Since he was sleeping in an unfamiliar place, Shade woke up early the next morning. He reached for the pocket watch on the bedside table and saw that it was half-past six. Curious, he thought of checking downstairs to see if any newspapers had been delivered, knowing that the people of Tobesque City generally had a habit of subscribing to them.
The former detective, judging by his middle-class lifestyle and his work, would surely have kept up with the news. Shade might even inherit the future newspaper deliveries.
Wearing his slippers, he walked down the stairs to the first-floor hallway, his curiosity piqued by the sealed-off first floor. He thought that someday he might take down a board or two and have a look inside.
He turned on the gas lamp in the hall, but unfortunately, there was no newspaper on the doormat, nor had one been pushed through the letterbox.
A little disappointed, Shade shook his head and thought about changing clothes to head out for breakfast. However, just as his slipper touched the first step, he heard the sound of a bell.
The apartment building had a pull-string bell outside the door. When pulled, the string activated a gear mechanism inside, which would ring the bell—an old-fashioned kind of doorbell.
"Is it the newspaper delivery?" he wondered. "No, why would the newspaper delivery person ring the bell? Could it be time to pay for another month's subscription?"
Shade's meager savings gave him a bit of anxiety as he did some quick math in his head, nervously turning toward the door. Whoever was outside was surely not someone he knew, and it was unlikely they were there to collect payment. It was probably someone looking for the previous tenant.
"Maybe it's a new client?"
In the worst-case scenario, it might be the landlord coming to collect rent.
There was no peephole on the door, so Shade approached and, using the language knowledge he'd acquired yesterday, asked, "Who is it?"
The answer came immediately. It was a familiar voice.
"Is this Hamilton Detective Agency? I'm Bill Schneider, remember? The psychologist from yesterday. We exchanged business cards in front of the newspaper office across from the Nightingale Club."
On this fog-covered morning, one of the few people Shade knew in this world had come to visit him.
Shade hadn't expected Schneider to be his visitor, and he hesitated, unsure if he should open the door. His brief hesitation, however, was enough for the psychologist to pick up on his caution.
"Mr. Hamilton, there's no need to worry. While it may seem odd for me to visit at this hour, I mean no harm. Time is short, though. Please, take a look at this first."
The man outside slid a piece of paper through the letterbox.
"Do you remember what I mentioned yesterday? Adult education, correspondence courses. Detective, you have a very special gift."
Shade bent down to pick up the paper, then adjusted the gas lamp in the hall to brighten the light. Under its glow, he saw that it was a brochure.
"Huh?"
He blinked in disbelief, wondering if he was still half-asleep.
The paper, about the size of an A4 sheet, was bordered with silver lines, giving it the appearance of a parchment scroll. It was a promotional flyer for a higher learning institution called "St. Byron Comprehensive Academy." Apart from the school's emblem—a book bound in chains—there weren't many illustrations. The printed text occupied most of the page.
St. Byron Comprehensive Academy was not recruiting ordinary students; they were offering correspondence courses for adults.
Besides that, the brochure listed the academy's eleven departments, the tuition fees, enrollment dates, academic terms, admission criteria, and restrictions, as well as the referral-based application process. At first glance, it seemed like a perfectly ordinary school.
"But why isn't there a school address?" Shade finally asked, surprised at himself for not first questioning whether the man outside had a mental illness, as he was delivering a school brochure to a stranger so early in the morning.
"Your observation is sharp."
The psychologist praised him from outside the door, then added, "Now, would you at least let me in to discuss this further? I might be able to answer some of your questions. Especially regarding... the other 'you' in your mind."
The voice in Shade's head did not make an appearance at the mention of it, but he found himself speechless. After a moment of hesitation, he opened the door.
Standing on the steps outside was the middle-aged doctor, holding a briefcase and wearing a brown overcoat with a small silk hat. His black boots were a little thick, likely to combat the morning cold. His neat mustache and blue eyes gave off a friendly impression.
"Don't forget your milk."
He pointed to the milk crate to the left of the door, his accent marking him as a likely native of Tobesque City.
"The milkman had just left when I arrived."
"Alright, come in."
Shade nodded hesitantly, taking a good look at the doctor while trying to put on a friendly expression. He grabbed the key from the shoe rack and unlocked the milk crate. Only after Shade had retrieved the milk did the psychologist follow him into the apartment.
The doctor also seemed curious about the sealed-off first floor, but he didn't comment. Instead, both men walked silently up to the second floor and into Apartment 1.
Asking the doctor to wait for a moment, Shade went to his bedroom to change his clothes. Afterward, he boiled some water to make tea for his guest. Though the kitchen had no food, at least there was some tea for hosting clients. Otherwise, Shade would have had to offer plain water.
Once everything was settled, the two of them sat down to talk.
The fabric-covered sofa set in the living room had an old-fashioned feel to it, and Shade couldn't help but wonder if it was an antique. Two long sofas and two short ones surrounded a wooden coffee table in the center, making the room perfect for discussing business with clients.
The doctor and Shade each sat on opposite long sofas.
"There's no need for further introductions. First, I need to earn your trust," said Dr. Schneider, the psychologist with the small mustache. He smiled and thanked Shade for the tea.
"I came here today primarily to talk about the flyer I gave you for the academy," he began. "First, let me describe the symptoms you're currently experiencing."
"Wait, symptoms? What does that have to do with the school?" Shade asked, though deep down, he already had his suspicions. He wasn't exactly a "local" here, and after experiencing those wild fantasies, he felt more adaptable to strange situations. The "St. Byron Comprehensive Academy" that Schneider mentioned seemed to be in the same category as something like Hogwarts.
"It has everything to do with it," Dr. Schneider replied. "Please, hear me out. Mr. Shade Hamilton, can you hear another voice in your head?"
Shade tried his best to keep his expression neutral, but he could see from Schneider's smile that his attempt had failed.
The doctor continued, "Is that voice saying strange things? Are some of its words helpful to you? It whispers in your ear unexpectedly, but it doesn't seem to have any malicious intent, does it?"
Realizing he couldn't hide the truth, Shade nodded.
"And this... symptom, I assume, appeared within 72 hours?" the doctor pressed.
"More accurately, 24 hours," Shade corrected him.
"Even better. That means we still have plenty of time. It looks like luck is on our side. The awakening time for such a talent is within 72 hours, which gives me more time to explain everything to you," Dr. Schneider smiled.
"These symptoms might resemble the onset of schizophrenia," he continued, "but, from my perspective, they're not."
He pointed to himself, his blue eyes focusing intently on Shade as he spoke slowly, "For a select group of people, the existence of 'another self' is both a wondrous and dangerous gift. No, I should say, it's an early sign of a talent. If properly guided, this talent will allow you to see the world as it truly is—a mysterious and perilous place. If not properly guided..."
"You'll return to being ordinary?" Shade interjected.
"No, something much worse," the doctor shook his head. "I won't lie to you; there's no need for that, at least not right now. Let me make this very clear. This is a sign of what we call the 'Ring Warlock' talent—a very rare gift. You can consider it a blessing or a curse from fate, whichever you prefer. As for what a 'Ring Warlock' is, think of it as a special kind of profession, one that allows you to harness... mystical powers. I hope you understand what I mean."
Dr. Schneider was closely watching Shade's reaction. This era was still largely ignorant of the supernatural, and most people who believed in the so-called "true gods" would outright reject concepts like witchcraft. But just as Schneider's investigation had revealed, Shade was different. A few days ago, he was a man believed to have mental issues, only to return to a state of normalcy due to his talent awakening. This made him more open-minded than the average citizen.
On the other hand, Shade's suspicions were now confirmed, but he hesitated before nodding. He wanted to feign surprise, as any normal person would, but instead, he found himself unusually calm. Almost too calm, in fact. He suspected it might be due to the overwhelming pressure he had felt the previous day.
"So, what you're saying is that the strange voice I've been hearing is actually... part of a larger system, a manifestation of some kind of power? Do many people experience this? Like how some can see farther, and others can hear more?" Shade asked.
"Exactly. 'I am you, and you are me.' That's how it is for every Ring Warlock. If you successfully become a Ring Warlock, that voice will stay with you for the rest of your life, guiding and helping you. That voice is another version of yourself, only with a different perspective. It will help you approach this chaotic and noisy world more truthfully, unveiling secrets and oddities. Knowledge, information, even words, can have dangerous power. Outside the safe, ordinary world of common people, we cannot directly approach forces that are powerful enough to distort our very souls."
Dr. Schneider paused for a moment, giving Shade time to process the information.
"But the awakening period for a Ring Warlock's talent is very brief. From the first instance of hearing that voice until it fades completely, it's usually within 72 hours. Not everyone with this talent can frequently hear the voice, nor do they realize it's not their own thoughts. Most simply chalk it up to hallucinations or hearing problems.
"That's why, Shade Hamilton, detective, it's incredibly difficult for the three great academies or the church to recruit and train new people. Which is why I said we're very fortunate."