While muttering to himself, Azik instinctively glanced at Quentin Cohen, as if seeking a hint or inspiration.
Cohen, with his sunken eyes and deep blue irises, shook his head without hesitation:
"I have no impression at all."
"...Well, maybe it's just a similar root." Azik lowered his left hand and laughed self-deprecatingly.
Klein was somewhat disappointed with the result, but still couldn't help adding:
"Tutor, Mr. Azik, as you know, I'm very interested in exploring and restoring the history of the Fourth Epoch. If you remember anything or get additional information, could you write to me?"
"No problem." Because of the day's events, the silver-haired senior associate professor Cohen was quite satisfied with Klein.
Azik also nodded and said:
"Is your address still the same as before?"
"For now, but I'll be moving soon. I'll write to you then." Klein replied with respect.
Senior Associate Professor Cohen shook his black cane and said:
"Indeed, you should move to a better environment."
At this point, Klein glanced at the newspaper in Azik's hand and said thoughtfully:
"Tutor, Mr. Azik, what does the newspaper say about Welch and Naya? I only know a little from the police in charge of the investigation."
Azik was about to answer when Senior Associate Professor Cohen, whose wrinkles were still few, suddenly took out a pocket watch along the gold chain on his black tailcoat.
Clack!
He opened it to check the time, then tapped his cane forward:
"The meeting is about to start, Azik, we can't delay. Give the newspaper to Moretti."
"Alright." Azik handed the newspaper he had finished reading to Klein. "We need to go upstairs. Remember to write to us. Cohen's and my address hasn't changed—still the History Department office at Hoy University, haha."
He turned with a laugh and left the room together with Cohen.
Klein took off his hat to bow, watched the two gentlemen leave, then said goodbye to the office's owner, Haven Stone, and walked slowly along the corridor out of the gray three-story building.
In the sunlight, he raised his cane, unfolded the newspaper, and saw the header:
"Tingen Morning Post".
Tingen has so many newspapers and magazines... Morning Post, Evening Post, The Honest Man, Backlund Daily, Tasok Times, Family Magazine, Story Review... Klein casually recalled and a dozen names came to mind, of course some of them weren't local but from the distribution based on steam trains.
Nowadays, with increasingly developed industrial papermaking and printing, the price of a newspaper has dropped to one penny, covering a wider and wider population.
Klein didn't look at the other content carefully; he quickly found the "Home Invasion Robbery and Murder" report in the "News section":
"... According to the police department, the scene at Mr. Welch's house was horrific, and all the gold, jewelry, cash, and everything valuable and easy to carry were stolen, not even the copper pennies were left behind. There is reason to believe that this is a group of cruel and vicious criminals who would not hesitate to kill innocent people who saw their faces, such as Mr. Welch and Ms. Naya."
"This is an outrage against the laws of the kingdom! This is a provocation to public safety! No one wants to encounter something like this! Of course, a good news is that the police department has identified the murderer and arrested the principal culprit. We will give a follow-up report as soon as possible."
"Reporter: John Browning."
It's been handled and covered up... Klein nodded imperceptibly as he walked along the tree-lined path.
He casually flipped through the newspaper, reading other news and serialized stories as he walked.
Suddenly, the hair on his back stood up, as if needles were pricking there.
Someone is watching me? Observing me? Stalking me?
Thoughts welled up one by one, and Klein vaguely understood.
Back on Earth, he had also felt an invisible gaze before, and had eventually found the source of the look, but never had he reacted so clearly and with such a definite "conclusion"!
The same thing in the original owner's memory fragments was exactly like this!
Was it the transmigration, or that strange "luck-enhancing ritual" that made my "sixth sense" stronger?
Klein suppressed the urge to find the watcher, and mimicking the novels, movies, and TV shows he had read, he slowly stopped, put away the newspaper, and looked toward the Hoy River.
Then, he turned his head little by little as if admiring the scenery, and then turned naturally to take in the surroundings.
Apart from trees, lawns, and students passing in the distance, there was no one there.
But Klein was certain that someone was still watching him!
This...
Klein's heart raced, and blood surged with each violent throb.
He opened the newspaper and half-covered his face, afraid someone might notice his expression.
At the same time, he gripped his cane tighter, ready to draw his gun.
One step, two steps, three steps, Klein walked slowly as before.
The feeling of being watched and observed remained, but no danger suddenly erupted.
With his body slightly stiff, he finished walking the tree-lined path and reached the waiting point for public carriages. Luckily, one was just arriving.
"Iron... Zote... no, Champagne Street." Klein rejected his own ideas in succession.
He initially planned to go straight home, but was afraid to lead the unknown watcher, whose intentions were unclear, to his apartment. Then he thought of going to Zouteland Street to seek help from the "Nighthawks" or his colleagues, but he worried that he might be alarming the enemy and exposing himself, so he ended up picking a random location.
"Sixpence." the conductor answered familiarly.
Klein hadn't brought any gold pounds when he left today; he had left them in his usual hiding place and only taken two s0ul notes. Since he had spent the same amount when he came, he had exactly one s0ul and sixpence left, so he took out all the coins and gave them to the conductor.
After getting on the carriage and finding a seat, as the door closed, Klein felt that the uneasy feeling of being watched finally disappeared!
He exhaled slowly, feeling his hands and feet trembling slightly.