A true spiritualist... Klein silently repeated the description and, without saying another word, followed Dunn Smith as he stepped down from the carriage.
Welch's residence in Tingen was a standalone house with a garden. Outside the wrought iron gate was a road wide enough for four carriages to travel side by side. Along both sides of the road, every fifty meters, stood a lamppost. They were different from the ones Klein had seen in his past life; these were gas lamps, with poles about the height of an adult man, convenient for lighting.
The black metal clung tightly to the glass, forming a grid, and casting classical "artworks" like lanterns. Coldness and warmth danced together, shadow and light coexisted.
Stepping along the road bathed in dim yellow light, Klein and Dunn Smith passed through the half-open iron gate and entered Welch's rented home.
Directly facing the gate was a path paved with cement, wide enough for two carriages, leading straight to the two-story house.
To its left was a garden, to its right a lawn. A faint fragrance mixed with a fresh scent, refreshing the mind and heart.
As soon as he stepped inside, Klein suddenly felt his hair stand on end, and he looked around left and right.
He felt that in the garden, in the shadows of the lawn, on the top floor of the house, behind the swing, in every dim corner, there were pairs of eyes watching him!
Obviously, the place was empty and desolate, but Klein felt as if he were on a bustling street.
This eerie contrast, this strange sensation, caused his body to tense up, and a chill ran up from his tailbone.
"Something's wrong!" he couldn't help but warn Dunn.
Dunn walked beside him with an unchanged expression and replied calmly:
"Don't worry about it."
Seeing that the Nighthawk had said so, Klein, suppressing the chilling sensation of being followed, watched, and observed without being able to find the target, step by step approached the front door of the standalone house.
"If I stay here too long, I'll become neurotic..." As Dunn knocked on the door, Klein quickly looked back again; the flowers swayed in the wind, but there was no one.
"Come in, gentlemen." A somewhat ethereal voice came from inside the house.
Dunn turned the handle, pushed the door open, and said to the woman sitting on the sofa:
"Daly, any results?"
The chandelier in the living room was not lit. Leather sofas—one main and two side ones—surrounded the marble coffee table.
On the coffee table, a candle was burning, but its flame was a vivid blue, casting a flickering eerie hue over the semi-open living room, dining room, and kitchen.
In the center of the long sofa sat a lady. She wore a black hooded robe, blue eyeshadow and blush, and on her exposed wrist was a silver chain with a white crystal pendant.
At first sight of her, Klein had an inexplicable feeling: she was dressed like a true spiritualist...
Was she roleplaying herself?
The spiritually beautiful "spiritualist" Daly swept her shimmering green eyes over Klein and looked at Dunn Smith:
"The original spirits are all gone, including those of Welch and Naya. The little ones here now know nothing."
Spirits? Spiritualist... Those unseen observers were spirits? And there were that many? Klein took off his hat, placed it on his chest, and bowed slightly:
"Good evening, madam."
Dunn Smith sighed and said:
"This is really tricky..."
"Daly, this is Klein Moretti. Try to see if you can find anything from him."
The "spiritualist" Daly's gaze immediately turned to Klein. She pointed to the single-seater sofa on the side:
"Please, have a seat."
"Thank you." Klein nodded, walked over a few steps, and obediently sat down, his heart unconsciously tightening.
Life or death, whether he would get through safely or his secrets would be exposed—it all depended on what happened next!
And the most frustrating thing was that he lacked anything to rely on; he could only hope for something special...
This really was a very unpleasant feeling... Klein thought bitterly.
As Dunn sat on the double sofa opposite him, the "spiritualist" Daly took out two thumb-sized glass bottles from a hidden pocket at her waist.
She smiled with her green eyes and said to Klein:
"I need a little assistance. After all, you're not an enemy, so I can't be too direct or rough with you; that would make you uncomfortable, cause pain, and even leave serious aftereffects. I'll give you some scents, enough gentleness and lubrication, to let you gradually open up and truly immerse yourself in that feeling."
"That doesn't sound right..." Klein clicked his tongue in surprise, a look of astonishment in his eyes.
Dunn across from him laughed and said:
"Don't be surprised. Unlike those fellows from the Church of the Storm Lord, here a lady can also verbally tease a man. You should understand that; your mother was a devout follower of the Goddess, and you and your brother attended the Church's Sunday school."
"I understand, I just didn't expect it to be so, so..." Klein gestured, unable to find the right adjective, almost blurting out the translation of "old driver."
Dunn's lips curled up as he said:
"Don't worry, Daly rarely does this. She's just trying to calm you down and relax you this way. She prefers corpses to men."
"You make me sound like a pervert." The "spiritualist" Daly interjected with a smile.
She opened one of the small bottles and sprinkled a few drops into the vivid blue candle flame:
"This is a hydrosol made from night-scented herb, dormancy, and chamomile, distilled and extracted. I call it 'Amanda,' which means 'peace' in Hermes. It smells very nice."
As she spoke, the candle flame flickered a few times, and the drops of hydrosol quickly evaporated, spreading throughout the room.
A subtle, enchanting fragrance entered Klein's nose. His emotions were no longer tense; his heart quickly calmed, as if he were looking down at the darkness in the dead of night.
"This bottle is called 'Spirit Eye.' It's made from the bark and leaves of the dragon pattern tree and poplar, dried in the sun for seven days, boiled three times, and then soaked in Langji wine. Of course, it involves a few incantations..." As the "spiritualist" Daly described, the amber liquid dripped onto the vivid blue candle flame.
Klein smelled the wine, an ethereal and elusive wine fragrance. He saw the candle flame flicker wildly, saw Daly's blue eyeshadow and blush shimmer with a strange luster, and even began to see double.
"It's a good aid for spiritualism and a fascinating es..."
As Daly narrated softly, Klein felt her voice coming from all directions.
Looking around in confusion, Klein found that everything was swaying and blurring, as if shrouded in layers of thick fog, and even his own body began to sway, blur, float, and lose its weight.