Halls Street, Divination Club.
Klein pressed down on his top hat and walked down the stairs towards the door.
He was no longer in his usual formal attire, but a white shirt with a light vest, over which he wore a thin black trench coat that reached his knees, which gave him a more agile appearance.
This outfit, suitable for combat, cost him only 1 pound, including the manual labor for sewing small inside pockets, and compared to a tailcoat, it was so cheap it would make one cry.
After feeling the revolver in the holster under his armpit and the metal bottles in the inner pockets, Klein took out the portrait and entered the Divination Club.
Sure enough, he saw the beautiful receptionist, Angelica.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Moretti. I thought you would come in a few days,” Angelica said, initially startled, then broke into a bright smile.
Klein took off his hat and sighed lightly.
“Good afternoon, Miss Angelica. I had a dream at noon, dreaming of Mr. Hynas Vansent and some things related to him. You know, as a diviner, I can never ignore any dream; it might be a revelation from the gods.”
Intrigued by his mystifying remarks, Angelica nodded thoughtfully and asked curiously:
“What did you dream about?”
“I dreamed that Hynas Vansent was arguing with this person,” Klein said, handing over a folded piece of paper.
While Angelica was unfolding the portrait, he rubbed his brow and observed the color of her emotions.
“This person…” Angelica looked at the almost photographic portrait, lost in thought.
In Klein’s eyes, her emotional aura was a “thinking blue,” a normal reaction.
“This person…” Angelica murmured again and slowly raised her head. “I have seen him.”
Klein’s spirits lifted, and he immediately asked:
“When?”
“I can’t recall the exact date. It should have been about a month ago. I saw him seeing Mr. Vansent to the door, whispering something. Because of his thick, messy eyebrows and Mr. Vansent’s rare smile, I was very impressed,” Angelica described as she recalled. “Yes, he had gray‑blue eyes, and his hair, like most men his age, was sparse.”
“After that, or before, have you seen him again?” Klein asked gently.
Angelica shook her head.
“No, definitely not. I don’t even know his name. Honestly, if it weren’t for you, I would suspect the person holding this portrait is a policeman investigating Mr. Vansent’s death. Ha, you have received some revelation; I wouldn’t be surprised. You are a true diviner.”
“Sorry, I am a policeman…” Klein quipped silently, then sighed.
“A true diviner understands their own insignificance and the greatness of fate. We can only see a blurry corner, only receive inspirations, not answers. We must constantly reflect, maintain reverence, interpret cautiously, and never see ourselves as wise men who have grasped fate.”
After summarizing his recent introspection, Klein suddenly noticed that his Spirit Vision had become clearer, and he could even distinguish some details of the color of Angelica’s aura.
For an instant, it was like a nearsighted person putting on the right glasses.
“This… Could it be that my ‘Diviner’ potion has begun to show signs of digestion?” Klein froze, momentarily unable to believe it.
“I never expected that a diviner like you could maintain such fear of fate. It is truly admirable,” Angelica said sincerely.
She had seen too many people in the club who, after learning a few divination methods, claimed they could see the truth and change fate.
Klein averted his gaze and chuckled lightly.
“The more you know, the more you realize your insignificance.”
As he spoke, he examined his own state and past experiences and roughly grasped the essence of the “Acting Method” — “act in accordance with the name of the potion, understand the hidden rules, and strictly abide by them.”
Only by doing so could he adjust the state of his body, heart, and spirit, get closer to the residual consciousness in the potion, and gradually digest it.
Recognition from others of the “Diviner” identity was only a superficial factor. The reason it made his spirituality feel lighter was that this feedback reinforced his confirmation of certain divination behaviors, and these behaviors together formed the “Diviner’s Code” that allowed the potion to be digested.
“Helping others interpret revelations, guiding them in the right direction, but always maintaining reverence for fate, not becoming arrogant, not being self‑conceited, not blindly trusting one’s own interpretations… This is the law I have concluded, and it is the essence of ‘Acting’ going forward. If it continues to work, then in less than half a year, or maybe two to three months, or even two to three weeks, I can completely digest the potion.”
“…The signs just now were very obvious. No wonder that mysterious Mr.
Thinking about this, Klein could not help but thank that tailcoat clown again. He had taught him with his life!
Without him, he might have taken several months in the Divination Club, going through a series of good or bad cases, to summarize the “Diviner’s Code” and start strict “Acting.”
“Mr. Moretti, sometimes I even feel you are a philosopher,” Angelica sighed upon hearing his answer.
“In my circle, ‘philosopher’ is a swear word,” Klein said, in a better mood.
With that, he bowed, put on his hat, said goodbye, and left.
Although Angelica did not know the name and identity of the man in the portrait, Klein was not at all disappointed. This gain was enough for him to proceed with his next plan.
........
36 Zouteland Street, inside the Blackthorn Security Company.