In fact, I didn't know whether the notebook was destroyed or hidden... However, I can speculate. If it were to be destroyed, it could have been done on the spot, there would be no need for me to take it away and then proceed... Upon hearing Leonard's question, Klein instantly activated his "keyboard detective" mode and pondered:
"Perhaps the unknown entity we, Welch, and Naya encountered both enjoyed the 'sacrifice' of life and hoped for similar occurrences in the future. Therefore, in the event that the 'suicide incident' would undoubtedly be discovered, letting me take the notebook and hide it, preparing for the second 'sacrifice,' was merely a setback. However, something went wrong in the process, and I ultimately did not succeed in suicide."
This was Klein's reasonable conjecture based on the materials, novels, movies, and TV shows he had seen in his previous life involving evil sacrifices. As for what went wrong in the process, he was well aware that it was due to the presence of himself as the "variable" from the crossover.
"A good explanation indeed, but I believe there might be another possibility," Leonard Mitchell elaborated, his eyes fixed on Klein's, with a slight smile. "If the suicides of Welch and Naya were sacrifices that allowed the unknown entity a chance to descend, then the notebook may have carried or incubated evil. Letting you take it away and hide it could have been a precautionary measure to prevent its 'birth' or empowerment before we could discover it and destroy it directly."
What did he mean? Was he doubting me? Doubting that the original host's body harbored or incubated evil? No, what he harbored or incubated was the crossover... "Incubated" was an acceptable term... Klein paused for a moment, inwardly scoffing while carefully choosing his words:
"I won't justify myself, as I genuinely forgot that memory. However, both Captain and Miss Dailis confirmed that I had no other issues. Your joke isn't funny."
"I'm just exploring one possibility. It doesn't rule out the possibility that the unknown entity suffered a setback upon its descent, resulting in your failed suicide. We must believe that the goddess always watches over us," Leonard redirected the conversation with a smile. "What did you discover this afternoon?"
After the conversation just now and the events before, Klein became deeply guarded against Leonard. However, he calmly replied on the surface:
"Nothing much. I need to change my route tomorrow afternoon."
He gestured towards the partition:
"I need to collect bullets from the armory."
The Shooting Club would be open until nine in the evening, as many members had to finish work first.
"May the goddess watch over you," Leonard smiled, drawing a circle symbolizing the Crimson Moon in front of his chest.
As Klein walked past the partition, listening to the sound of his footsteps descending the stairs, the smile gradually faded from Leonard's face, replaced by a look of doubt.
"What did he say?" he muttered softly, sounding somewhat discontented.
...
Descending the stairs, Klein turned down the corridor illuminated by gas lamps and headed towards the arsenal, materials, and library.
The iron door was open, and the brown-haired girl, Roselle, was standing in front of the long table, conversing with a middle-aged man with thick black beard and a half-high top hat.
"Good afternoon, no, evening. It always feels like midnight here. Klein, according to Old Neil's description, you've become an extraordinary person? What's this about being an 'augur'?" Roselle turned her head quickly, her speech rapid.
She didn't hide her curiosity and concern.
Klein smiled and nodded:
"Good afternoon, Miss Roselle. Although it always feels like nighttime here, it's peaceful. Your description just now wasn't quite accurate. The name of the Sequence potion I've taken is 'Augur.'"
"You still chose to become an extraordinary person..." Roselle sighed, falling into silence for a moment.
Klein glanced at the middle-aged man beside him and politely inquired, "Who is this?"
Is he another member of the Night Watch or one of the two administrative staff members I haven't met yet? Roselle pursed her lips and replied, "Brett, our colleague. He wants to switch shifts with me to free up the night after tomorrow. He's taking his wife to the North District Grand Theater to see 'The Arrogant,' celebrating their fifteenth wedding anniversary. He's such a romantic gentleman."
Brett smiled and extended his hand. "With Miss Roselle around, there's no need to repeat everything. Hello, Klein. I didn't expect you to become an extraordinary so quickly, while I, well, may never have the courage."
"Perhaps ignorance is bliss," Klein self-deprecatingly remarked, shaking hands with him.
"That's not necessarily a bad thing," Brett shook his head and laughed. "A former extraordinary once told me before he died, never to delve into strange and dangerous things. The less you know, the longer you live."
At this point, Roselle interjected, "Klein, don't worry too much. I heard from Old Neil that your 'Augur' belongs to the auxiliary category, relatively safer. As long as you don't attempt to communicate with the unknown entities, why are you dressed like this? It's not gentlemanly at all! What are you doing here?"
"Collecting today's thirty rounds of ammunition," Klein replied without addressing Roselle's previous question. He believed the girl would soon forget about it.
"Alright," Roselle pointed to the table. "Brett, it's all yours. You should know where the keys and bullets are. Oh, Neil is so stingy; he didn't even leave any ground coffee for me. He promised to let me drink my fill today..."
Rambling on, Klein received the bullets. The two left the underground together, parting ways on Zottland Street: one took a public horse-drawn carriage home, and the other entered the Shooting Club.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Gripping the gun, raising his arm, firing, ejecting the cylinder, removing the spent casings, reloading the bullets... Klein repeated this process over and over, familiarizing himself with and memorizing the sensation of shooting. Of course, he took several breaks in between for reflection and adjustments.
After finishing his practice, Klein used the facilities to perform various exercises similar to push-ups, striving to strengthen his body and improve his physique.
When everything was done, he took a tramcar without rails back home and realized it was nearly seven o'clock, the sky already dark.
Just as Klein was about to go to the market or the street to buy ingredients for dinner, he noticed the front door was open, and Melissa was coming back with a bag of stationery books. In addition to that, she was carrying quite a few groceries.
"...I figured both you and Benson would come back late today, so I took 1 sol from where you guys hide money when I left for school in the morning," Melissa explained earnestly when she saw her brother's puzzled look.
"You took the money, why didn't you take the public horse-drawn carriage to school?" reminded Klein, recalling the morning.
Furrowing her brows slightly, Melissa replied, "Why would I take the public horse-drawn carriage? It costs 4 pence to go to school, so that's 8 pence round trip. Including you and Benson, we would spend 24 pence a day on the tramcar, a full 2 sols. In a week, well, excluding Sunday, that's 12 sols, almost equivalent to our rent!"
Stop, stop, stop, don't show off your math skills... Klein chuckled and pressed down on her hand.
Melissa paused for a moment and then added, "Walking to school is fine. The teacher says everyone needs to exercise regularly, and I can also pick up some damaged parts along the way."
Klein chuckled lightly and said, "Then let's do the math again. The public carriage costs 12 sols, and the rent is 12 sols and 3 pence. That's a total of 1 pound, 4 sols, and 3 pence. With Benson's salary, we can easily afford it, and there's still plenty left. Oh, and he received his salary from last week... And I can still get 1 pound and 10 sols each week. Even if we eat meat every day and include expenses for gas, coal, wood, and seasonings, as long as we're frugal with lunch, there will still be surplus, and we could even subscribe to the morning paper for just 1 penny."
"Two months from now, once I've repaid the advance on my salary, I can save up money for Benson, for you, and even buy some new clothes."
"But, but, we have to consider accidents," Melissa insisted, sticking to her unchanged viewpoint.
Klein looked at her with a smile and said, "Then we can eat a little less meat. Don't you think spending fifty, no, a hundred minutes on the road every day is a waste of time? You could use that time to read more, think about problems, and improve your grades."
"In this way, Melissa, you'll graduate with excellent grades, find a well-paying job, and what will you have to worry about then?"
"...,"
Drawing on his experience debating on forums and with people, Klein finally convinced Melissa and persuaded her to take the public carriage to school.
Phew, managed to pull it off. No, how can I call it 'pulling it off'? It's called persuading with reason... Klein mused silently, taking the groceries Melissa bought and sighed, "Remember to buy beef, lamb, or chicken tomorrow... Eating well is crucial for a healthy body and a sharp mind to tackle difficult studies."
Just talking about it makes me want to drool...
Melissa pursed her lips and remained silent for a few seconds before saying, "Okay."
...
The next morning, overseeing Melissa as she boarded the public carriage, Klein and Benson parted ways at the street corner, each arriving at the company.
As Klein stepped into the gate, he saw Mr. Neil chatting with Roselle at the reception desk. The former was still dressed in his classical black robe, paying no heed to the gazes of others, while the latter had changed into a light yellow lightweight skirt.
"Good morning, Mr. Neil, Miss Roselle," Klein tipped his hat and greeted.
Mr. Neil narrowed his eyes slightly and glanced at him, "Good morning. You didn't hear anything you shouldn't have last night, did you?"
"No, I slept well," Klein replied, feeling somewhat puzzled by the question.
He could only attribute it to his lack of heightened inspiration...
"Haha, don't worry about it. It's not that easy to hear," Mr. Neil pointed to the partition, "Go to the arsenal; we'll continue our 'Occultism' class this morning."
Klein nodded and followed Mr. Neil downstairs, entering the underground and arriving at the arsenal, where he replaced Brett, who had been on night duty.
"What are we learning today?" Klein asked curiously.
Mr. Neil hmm-ed for a moment and said, "Complex, fundamental knowledge. But before that, let me teach you an interesting technique."
He pointed to the silver chain wrapped around his wrist, with a pure white crystal dangling from its end.