Returning to his chair, he heard the faraway cathedral's bells chime again. Klein went up front to the cupboard and took out his clothes.
A black vest with a matching suit, trousers that clung tightly to his legs, and a halved top hat that made him feel like he was watching an English drama set in the Victorian era.
He muttered softly with a wry smile, "I'm not going for an interview. All I'm doing is buying some ingredients to prepare for my luck enhancement ritual…"
The original Klein was so concerned about his impending interview that it became instinct, and when not focused enough, he habitually wore his only decent set of clothing.
After taking a breath, he took off his suit and vest, switching to a brownish-yellow coat, and also changed to a felt hat with a rounded edge of the same color.
With his outfit done, he walked to the side of the bed, lifted a square cushion, and reached into an inconspicuous hole beneath, rummaging around before finding an intermediate layer.
When he retracted his right hand, there was a roll of notes in his palm. Eight notes with faded dark green colors—these were all the savings Benson had at the moment—the living expenses for the next three days—two of them were five-soli notes, and the remaining were one-soli notes.
In the Loen Kingdom's currency system, soli was ranked second. It originated from ancient silver coins. One soli was equivalent to twelve copper pence. They had denominations of one and five soli.
At the top of the currency system was the gold pound. They were also paper-based but were guaranteed by gold and pegged directly. A gold pound was equivalent to twenty soli. They had denominations of one, five, and ten gold pounds.
Klein spread a note and caught a whiff of the faint, unique ink—this was the smell of money.
Perhaps a result of Klein's memory fragments or his constant desire for money, he felt like he had instantly fallen in love with these notes.
Behold, their designs are so beautiful. It makes the stern and old-fashioned George III and his two mustaches appear especially adorable.
Behold, the watermark that can be seen when the note is placed against sunlight is so alluring. The exquisite design for the anti-counterfeit label makes it completely different from those fake fancy schlocks!
Klein admired it for nearly a minute before pulling out two one-soli notes. He then rolled up the remaining notes and stuffed them back into the cushion's concealed layer.
After arranging and flattening the cloth around the hole, he folded the two notes he had taken out and placed them into the left pocket of his brownish-yellow jacket.
With all of this done, he placed a key into his right pocket, brought a dark brownish paper bag along with him, and walked toward the door.
His shuffling footsteps slowed down from a brisk pace until it eventually stopped.
Klein's suicide was fraught with peculiarities. Would he encounter any 'accidents' if he were to leave just like that?
After some thought, he returned to his desk, pulled open the drawer, and took out the shimmering brass revolver—this was the only defensive weapon with sufficient power he could think of.
Although he had never practiced shooting, just pulling such a weapon would definitely daunt anyone. He touched the revolver's cold metal before stuffing it into his pocket and pulled open the door before leaving.
The corridor during the day remained dim as limited sunlight shone in from the window situated at the end. Klein went down the stairs and left the apartment before taking in the brilliance and warmth of the sun.
Although it was almost July, it was still considered the middle of summer. However, Tingen was situated north of the Loen Kingdom, so it had unique climate characteristics.
The streets, however, were awash with filthy water and strewn junk. From Klein's memories, this was not a rare sight in low-income communities. After all, there were just too many people.
"Come and try our delicious roasted fish!"
"Hot and fresh oyster soup. Drink a bowl in the morning and feel invigorated all day!"
"Fresh fish from the port for just five pence apiece!"
"Muffins and eel soup make the perfect combination!"
"Conch! Conch! Conch!"
"Vegetables freshly plucked from the farms outside the city. Cheap and fresh!"
The mobile hawkers who sold vegetables, fruits, and hot food shouted along the streets as they beckoned the rushing pedestrians.
Some would stop and carefully choose before purchasing.
Klein took a whiff of the air that mixed both noxious and fragrant aromas. He pressed down on his hat while passing through the busy street.
He proceeded forward until he reached a point where the crowdedness around him was restored to normal.
There was a vagrant accordionist busking. The melody was sometimes pleasant, sometimes fervent.
Beside him were several children in ragged clothes with sallow complexions due to malnutrition. They listened to the music and moved to the beat, dancing self-made choreographies—their faces were filled with joy as though they were a prince or an angel.
Klein turned into another street before stopping at Smyrin Bakery.
The owner of the bakery was an old granny named Wendy Smyrin. Her hair was completely grayish-white, and she always wore a genial smile. From the beginning of Klein's memories, she had been here selling bread and pastries.
The Tingen biscuits and lemon cakes she bakes are very delicious...
"Mrs. Smyrin, eight pounds of rye bread."
"Oh. Dear Klein, where's Benson? Is he not back?" Wendy asked.
"In a few more days," Klein answered vaguely.
As Wendy took the rye bread, she sighed. "He sure is a hardworking lad. He will have a good wife."
"All is good now. You have already graduated as a history graduate of our Khoy University~ Oh, you will soon be able to earn money. You should not be staying in the apartment you are currently living in. At the very least, you should have a bathroom."
"Mrs. Smyrin, you seem energetic today." All Klen could do was respond with a dry smile.
If Klein were to successfully pass his interview and become a lecturer at Tingen University, his family would be pushed to a higher socioeconomic status.
In his fragmented memory, Klein had once fantasized about renting a detached house in the suburbs.
This was not a wishful dream. Even a lecturer on probation at Tingen University would have a weekly salary of two gold pounds, and after the probationary period, the salary would be raised to three gold pounds and ten soli.
One had to know that despite working for so many years, Klein's brother, Benson, only had a weekly salary of one pound and ten soli. Ordinary workers at a factory would at best get a little more than a pound. And rent for a bungalow was about nineteen soli to one pound and eighteen soli.
However, all of this was under the premise that he passed either the Tingen or Backlund University's interviews.
There were not many other opportunities—those without any connections were unable to get recommendations to become a public servant. And those who studied history were more limited in job opportunities—there was not much demand for private consultants from aristocrats, banks, or industrial magnates.
Taking into account that the knowledge he grasped was fragmented and incomplete, he felt awkward towards Mrs. Smyrin's expectations of him.
She packed the sixteen rye bread she had weighed into a brown paper bag that Klein had brought and stretched out her right hand, saying, "Nine pence."
Every rye bread weighed about half a pound, as differences were inevitable.
"Nine pence? Wasn't it eleven pence two days ago?" Klein asked. It cost 15 pence the month before the previous month.
"You have to thank the people who protested on the streets for the repeal of the Grain Act," Wendy said, shrugging.
Klein nodded in vague acknowledgment. His memories regarding this were incomplete, and all he remembered was that the core tenet of the Grain Act was to protect the prices of domestic agriculture products. Before the prices rose to a certain level, grain imports from Southern nations like Feynapotter, Masin, and Lenburg were stopped.
Why would people protest the act?
Without saying much, he carefully took out his notes and handed one of them over to Mrs. Smyrin.
He was given three copper pence in change. Stuffing them into his pocket, he took the paper bag containing the bread and headed for the 'Lettuce and Meat' market across the street.
There was a municipal square at the intersection of Iron Cross Street and Daffodil Street. Many tents were erected there, and clowns dressed in odd and funny attire were distributing fliers.
"There's a circus performance tomorrow night?" Klein glanced at the fliers in the hands of others.
However, how much is the entrance fee? With that thought, he went closer.
Just as he was about to ask a clown with a red and yellow painted face, a woman's voice sounded from beside him.
"Would you like to try a divination?"
Klein turned his head and saw a woman wearing a pointed hat and a long black dress standing in front of a short tent.
Her face was smeared with red and yellow paint, and her eyes were a profound grayish blue.
"No," Klein shook his head in response. He did not have the spare cash for divination.
"My tarot divination is very accurate." The added.
"Tarot…" Klein was dumbfounded.
This pronunciation was almost identical to the tarot cards on Earth. And tarot cards from Earth were a set of cards used for divination, with graphics that represented different omens.
Wait… He suddenly recalled the origins of tarot divination in this world.
It did not originate from the seven orthodox gods, nor was it an ancient legacy. Instead, it was created by the Intis Republic's Consul of that era, Roselle Gustav, from more than 170 years ago.
This Mr. Roselle invented the steam engine, improved the sailing boat, overthrew the Intis Kingdom's imperial rule, and was recognized by the God of Craftsmanship. He also became the first Consul of the Intis Republic.
Later, he invaded other nations and placed Lenburg and other nations under his protection. He made the Loen Kingdom, Feynapotter, Feysac Empire, and other powerful Northern Continent nations bow down to the Intis Republic. Following that, the Republic was then changed to an Empire, and he became the self-proclaimed 'Emperor Caesar.'
It was during Roselle's rule that the Church of Craftsmanship received its first public holy revelation since the Fifth Epoch. Ever since, the title of God of Craftsmanship was changed to God of Steam and Machinery.
Roselle also invented tarot divination. He also established the contemporary system of paper-based cards and their playstyles. There were many familiar styles that Klein was familiar with, such as Upgrade, Fighting the Landlord, Texas Poker, and Quint...
In addition, the marine fleets he sent out discovered a sea route that led to the Southern Continent through the stormy and turbulent seas—this also began the era of colonialism.
Unfortunately, he was betrayed in his old age. In the year 1198 of the Fifth Epoch, he was assassinated by the combined forces of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun, the former Intis royal family—the Sauron family—and other aristocrats. He eventually died in the White Maple Palace.
What… To recall such general knowledge made him face-palm. Could this senior also be a transmigrator?
With this in mind, Klein was intrigued to see what tarot cards looked like. Therefore, he nodded at the woman. "If the... well, price is reasonable, I'll give it a try."
The woman said it with a laugh. "Sir, you are the first one here today, so it's on the house."