Knock!
Knock! Knock!
Poundings on the door roused Klein from his sleep. He peered out of the window to see the first glimmer of dawn.
"Who is it?" Look at the time!
"It's me. Dunn Smith," a man outside the door said.
Dunn Smith? Don't know him... Klein got off his bed and opened the door to see the gray-eyed police inspector whom he had met the day before standing in front of him.
Klein asked, "Is there something wrong?"
The policeman replied with a stern look, "We found a carriage driver that testified that you had gone to Mr. Welch's place on the 27th—the day when Mr. Welch and Ms. Naya died. Furthermore, Mr. Welch was the one who paid for your transportation fees."
Klein did not feel a tinge of fear or guilt that one would expect from having his lies exposed.
On the 27th of June, the former Klein had indeed gone to Mr. Welch's place. On the night that he returned, he died the exact same way as Welch and Naya did.
Klein gave a forced smile. "This is insufficient evidence and does not directly prove that I am associated with the deaths of Welch and Naya. Honestly speaking, I'm also very curious about the whole incident. I want to know what exactly happened to my two poor friends. But… I really can't remember. In fact, I have almost completely forgotten what I had done on the 27th. You may find it hard to believe, but I fully relied on the diaries I had written to roughly make a guess that I had gone to Welch's place on the 27th."
"You sure have great mental fortitude," Dunn Smith said. He showed not a trace of anger, nor was he smiling.
"You should be able to hear my sincerity," Klein said.
I'm telling the truth, of course, only part of it.
Dunn Smith did not give an immediate response and swept his glance across the room. "Mr. Welch lost a revolver. I guess… I should be able to find it here. Right? Mr. Klein?"
Indeed… Klein finally understood where the revolver had come from. He raised his hands halfway and retreated, leaving a path open, and signaled at the bunk bed.
"Behind the bedboard."
Dunn Smith did not immediately move forward. "Nothing to add on?"
"There is! Yesterday, when I woke up in the middle of the night, I realized I was lying on my desk with a revolver beside me. There was a bullet in the corner of the room. It was as if I had shot myself. But due to a lack of experience of never having used a gun, or maybe I was too scared at the final moment… Anyway, the bullet did not achieve the desired result; my head is still in its place.
Since then, I have lost some memories, including what I saw and did at Welch's place on the 27th. I'm not lying; I really can't remember."
For the sake of being eliminated as a suspect and getting rid of all these strange events surrounding him, Klein explained almost everything that had happened. Except for the transmigration and "gathering."
Dunn Smith listened quietly. "This corresponds with what I had surmised and with the hidden logic of similar incidents in the past. Of course, I have no idea how you managed to survive."
"I'm glad you believe in me. I don't know how I survived either." Klein heaved a small sigh of relief.
"But—" Dunn threw out a conjunction. "There is no use in me believing you. You are currently the prime suspect. You have to be confirmed by an 'expert' that you have indeed forgotten what you went through or that you indeed have nothing to do with the deaths of Mr. Welch and Miss Naya."
He cleared his throat, his expression becoming serious. "Mr. Klein, I seek your cooperation in coming with me to the police station for the investigation. This should take roughly two to three days if it is confirmed that there are no issues with you."
"The expert is here?" Klein asked blankly in return.
Didn't they say it would take another two days?
"She came earlier than expected." Dunn turned sideways, signaling for Klein to leave.
"Allow me to leave a note," Klein requested.
Klein returned to the desk. As he searched for paper, he began thinking about what was about to occur.
Honestly speaking, he did not wish to meet the 'expert.' After all, he had a secret.
In a place where there were seven major churches, under the premise that Emperor Roselle, who was suspected to be a transmigrator predecessor, was assassinated, a thing like 'transmigration' usually meant having to go to court and enter arbitration.
But, without weapons, combat skills, or superpowers, he was no match for a professional policeman.
"Ugh, I'll take one step at a time." Klein left a note, grabbed his keys, and followed Dunn out of the room.
Along the dark aisle, four policemen in black-and-white checkered uniforms split into pairs and guarded them on both sides.
Klein followed alongside Dunn as they went down the wooden stairs, which occasionally creaked.
Outside the apartment, there was a four-wheeled carriage. On the side of the carriage was the "two crossed swords and a crown" police emblem. Their surroundings were crowded and bustling as usual.
"Go on, up." Dunn signaled for Klein to go first.
Klein was just about to step forward when an oyster seller suddenly grabbed a customer and claimed that he was a thief. Both parties wrestled and triggered a response from the horses, causing great chaos.
An opportunity! There wasn't much time for Klein to think any further; he bent forward and dashed towards the crowd.
Either shoving or dodging, he escaped frantically towards the other end of the street.
Right now, for the sake of not "meeting" the expert, he could only proceed by going to the pier outside the city, taking a boat down the Tussock River, and escaping to the capital, Backlund. The population was higher there, making it easier to hide.
Of course, he could also get on a steam train, go eastward to the nearest Enmat Harbor, and take the sea route to Pritz, then towards Backlund.
Not long after, Klein arrived at a street and made a turn onto Iron Cross Street, where several carriages could be hired.
"To the pier outside the city." Klein reached out his hand and hopped onto one of the carriages.
He had thought through things clearly. Firstly, he had to mislead the police that were coming for him. Once the carriage was a suitable distance away from them, he would jump right off!
"Alrighty." The carriage driver tugged at the reins.
Clop! Clop! Clop… The carriage left Iron Cross Street.
Just as Klein was about to jump off the carriage, he noticed that it had turned onto another road, not leading out of the city.
"Where are you going?" Klein blurted in his momentary daze.
"To Welch's place," the carriage driver answered monotonously.
What!? Klein was at a loss for words. The carriage driver turned around—it was Dunn Smith.
"You!" Klein was flustered. Everything suddenly became a blur, as though the world spun around him and he instantly sat up.
Klein looked around, confused. He noticed the crimson moon outside the window and the room being covered in a crimson veil.
"It was a nightmare." Klein heaved a sigh.
After calming down, Klein looked at his pocket watch. It was only two in the morning.
He opened the door and walked along the dark corridor. Under the dim moonlight, he walked lightly towards the washroom.
Suddenly, he noticed a silhouette outside the window at the end of the corridor. That silhouette wore a black trench coat and was partly camouflaged in the darkness, bathing in the crimson moonlight.