"Hey sis, could we not bring up the most inconvenient things..." Klein silently complained, feeling his headache start to throb again.
The original owner of this body had forgotten quite a bit of knowledge, and with the interview coming up the day after tomorrow, there was no way he could cram everything in time.
Moreover, being embroiled in such bizarre and terrifying events, who could possibly focus on "studying"?
After brushing off his sister with a few vague responses, Klein pretended to read, while Melissa pulled up a chair, sitting beside him, doing her homework by the light of the gas lamp.
The atmosphere was peaceful and cozy. Around eleven o'clock, the siblings bade each other goodnight and went to bed.
...
Knock! Knock knock!
A series of knocks jolted Klein from his dream.
He glanced at the morning light outside the window, groggily turning over and sitting up:
"Who is it?"
What time is it? Why didn't Melissa wake me up?
"It's me, Dunn Smith." A steady male voice answered from outside.
Dunn Smith? I don't know anyone by that name... Klein shook his head, got out of bed, and walked towards the door.
He opened the door to see the police officer with gray eyes from yesterday.
"Is something wrong?" Klein asked warily.
The gray-eyed officer replied with a serious expression:
"We found a coachman who confirmed that on the 27th, the day Mr. Welch and Miss Naya died, you visited Mr. Welch's residence, and it was Mr. Welch who paid for your fare."
Klein was taken aback but showed no signs of fear or guilt from having a lie exposed.
Because he wasn't lying, he just felt that Officer Dunn Smith's evidence was within his expectations.
On June 27th, the original owner indeed went to Welch's place, and that very night, he committed suicide, just like Welch and Naya!
Klein opened his mouth, a wry smile forming as he said:
"This isn't strong enough evidence to directly connect me to Welch and Naya's deaths. Honestly, I also want to know what happened, to understand my poor friends' fates, but I truly can't remember. I've almost completely forgotten what I did on the 27th. Believe it or not, I rely on my notes to guess that I might have gone to Welch's place that day."
"Not bad psychological composure." Officer Dunn Smith nodded without showing anger or a smile.
"You should sense my sincerity." Klein looked straight into his eyes.
I'm telling the truth, just not all of it!
Dunn Smith didn't respond immediately. He scanned the room before speaking slowly:
"Mr. Welch lost a revolver. I believe I can find it here, right, Mr. Klein?"
As expected... Klein finally understood the origin of the revolver, his mind racing, quickly making a decision.
He half-raised his hands, stepped back, making way, then pointed to the bunk bed with his chin:
"On the back of the bottom bed's board."
He didn't specify the bottom one, because no normal person would hide something on the underside of the top bunk's board where it would be easily seen.
Officer Dunn didn't step forward, instead curling his lips slightly:
"Anything to add?"
"Yes!" Klein replied without hesitation.
"The night before last, I woke up in the middle of the night to find myself at my desk with the revolver beside me and bullets on the floor. It looked like a failed suicide attempt—maybe because I had no experience or got scared at the last moment. Anyway, the bullet didn't work as expected, my head is intact, and I'm alive."
"And since then, I've forgotten some memories, including what I did at Welch's place on the 27th. I'm not lying. I really can't remember."
To clear his name and solve the bizarre events haunting him, Klein almost told everything, except for the transmigration and the "gathering."
Also, he carefully phrased his words to withstand scrutiny, like not saying the bullet missed his head but that it didn't work as expected, leaving his head intact.
To others, these sounded the same, but they were fundamentally different.
Officer Dunn listened quietly, then said slowly:
"This fits my projections and the hidden logic of similar past incidents. Of course, I don't know how you survived."
"I'm glad you believe me. I also don't know how I survived." Klein breathed a little easier.
"But." Dunn threw out a conjunction, "My belief is useless. You're still highly suspicious. You need to be verified by an 'expert' to confirm you truly forgot the encounter or that you didn't directly cause Mr. Welch and Miss Naya's deaths."
He coughed, his expression turning solemn:
"Mr. Klein, please cooperate and come to the station with us. This will take about two to three days if you're indeed innocent."
"The expert arrived?" Klein asked in a daze.
Weren't they supposed to come in two days?
"She arrived earlier than we expected." Dunn stepped aside, signaling Klein to leave.
"I'll leave a note." Klein requested.
Benson was still on a business trip, and Melissa had gone to school. He could only leave a note explaining he was involved in Welch's case, telling them not to worry.
Dunn nodded indifferently:
"Go ahead."
Klein returned to his desk, pulling out paper to write while contemplating the next steps.
Honestly, he was very reluctant to meet that expert, especially since he was harboring an even bigger secret himself.
In a place with the Seven Major Churches, under the premise that the "predecessor" Emperor Roselle was assassinated, a "transmigration" incident would likely land him in the Inquisition and court!
However, without weapons, combat skills, or extraordinary abilities, he was no match for a professional officer, especially since several of Dunn's subordinates were standing in the dimly lit corridor outside.
If they drew their guns and fired simultaneously, he'd be done for!
"Sigh, one step at a time," Klein left a note, took his keys, and followed Dunn out of the room.
In the dim corridor, four black-and-white uniformed policemen stood on either side, highly vigilant.
Clack, clack, clack. Klein walked alongside Dunn, stepping down the wooden staircase one step at a time, occasionally hearing creaking sounds.
Outside the apartment, a four-wheeled, single-horse carriage was parked. Its body was emblazoned with the police emblem of "crossed swords surrounding a crown." The surroundings were bustling and noisy, just like every other morning.
"Get in," Dunn gestured for Klein to board first.
Just as Klein was about to step forward, a street vendor selling oysters grabbed a customer, accusing him of being a thief.
A scuffle ensued, startling the horse, and the area became chaotic.
An opportunity!
Without thinking, Klein bent low and dashed into the crowd.
Pushing and dodging, he frantically fled toward the other end of the street.
Given the current situation, to avoid meeting the expert, he had no choice but to head to the city's outer dock, take a boat down the Tussock River, and escape to the capital, Backlund, where the large population would provide cover.
Alternatively, he could hop on a steam train and head east to the nearest Enmat Harbor, then travel by sea to Pritz before heading to Backlund.
Before long, Klein reached the street corner and turned into Iron Cross Street, where several hireable carriages were parked.
"To the outer dock," Klein propped himself up and jumped into one.
He had it all figured out: he would mislead the pursuing officers and then jump off once the carriage had traveled some distance!
"Alright," the driver pulled the reins.
Clip-clop, clip-clop, the carriage left Iron Cross Street.
Just as Klein was about to jump off, he suddenly realized the carriage had turned onto a different road, not leading out of the city!
"Where are you going?" Klein blurted out in surprise.
"To Welch's residence..." the driver's voice was monotonous.
What? Klein was shocked. The driver turned around, revealing deep, cold gray eyes—it was Officer Dunn Smith!
"You!" Klein was terrified, feeling dizzy and disoriented, suddenly sitting up.
Sitting up? Klein looked around in confusion, seeing the full red moon outside the window, with the room bathed in "gauze-like" light.
He reached up to touch his forehead, finding it wet and cold with sweat, his back feeling the same.
"It was just a nightmare..." Klein exhaled slowly, "Thank goodness..."
He found it odd that he was so lucid and calm in the dream.
After calming down a bit, Klein checked his pocket watch, finding it was just past two in the morning. He quietly got out of bed, intending to go to the communal washroom to wash his face and relieve his pressing bladder.
Opening the door, he entered the dim hallway, carefully walking towards the communal washroom by the faint, indistinct moonlight.
Suddenly, he saw a figure standing by the window at the end of the corridor.
The figure wore a black coat, longer than a robe but shorter than formal attire.
The figure was half-immersed in darkness, bathed in the cold crimson moonlight.
The figure slowly turned around, revealing deep, gray, cold eyes.
Dunn Smith!