Tap, tap, tap.
The footsteps echoed through the dim, narrow corridor, spreading far and wide in the silence, with no other sounds.
Klein kept his back straight, following the middle-aged priest at an unhurried pace, neither asking questions nor engaging in small talk, as calm as a windless lake.
After passing through a tightly guarded passage, the priest unlocked a secret door with a key and pointed to the stone staircase leading down, saying:
"To the left at the crossroads is Chanis Gate."
"May the Goddess protect you." Klein made four taps on his chest, outlining the "shape" of the crimson moon.
Worldly matters follow worldly customs; religious matters follow religious rituals.
"Praise the Goddess." The priest responded with the same gesture.
Klein said no more, walking down the stone staircase, aided by the elegant gas lamps embedded in the walls on both sides, step by step into the depths of the darkness.
Halfway down, he subconsciously looked back and saw the middle-aged priest still standing at the door, at the top of the stairs, in the shadow of the gas lamp, like a motionless wax statue.
Klein withdrew his gaze, continued descending, and soon set foot on the cold flagstone floor, reaching the crossroads.
He didn't turn toward Chanis Gate, because Dunn Smith, who had just finished his shift, definitely wouldn't be there.
Following the familiar path to the right, Klein mounted another staircase and emerged inside the "Blackthorn Security Company."
Seeing that the doors were either closed or ajar, he didn't search recklessly but entered the reception area, where a sweet-looking brown-haired girl was intently reading a magazine.
"Hi, Rozanne." Klein came to the side and deliberately tapped the table.
Bang!
Rozanne stood up with a start, knocking over her chair, and said flustered:
"Hi, nice weather today, you, you, Klein, why are you here?"
She pressed a hand to her chest, catching her breath like a little girl afraid of being caught slacking by her father.
"I need to see the captain," Klein answered shortly.
"...You scared me, I thought it was the captain coming out." Rozanne glared at Klein. "You didn't even knock! Hmph, you should be glad I'm a generous, kind lady—well, I prefer the word 'girl'... Why do you need the captain? He's in the room across from Mrs. Orianna's."
Even though he was quite tense, Klein couldn't help but smile at Rozanne's antics. He hesitated for a moment and said:
"Secret."
"..." Rozanne's eyes went wide in disbelief, but Klein gave a slight bow and quickly took his leave.
He went back through the partition door of the reception area and knocked on the first office door on the right.
"Come in," came Dunn Smith's low, gentle voice.
Klein pushed open the door, entered, closed it behind him, and removed his hat to bow:
"Good morning, Captain."
"Good morning. What's the matter?" Dunn's black trench coat and hat were hanging on the coat rack nearby, leaving him in a white shirt and black vest. Despite his receding hairline and deep gray eyes, he looked quite neat.
"Someone is following me," Klein replied honestly, without any extra embellishment.
Dunn leaned back in his chair, folded his hands, and his deep gray eyes calmly met Klein's.
Instead of following up on the subject of being followed, he asked:
"Did you come from the church?"
"Yes," Klein confirmed.
Dunn gave a slight nod, neither approving nor disapproving, and returned to the main topic:
"It could be that Welch's father didn't believe the cause of death we reported and hired a private investigator from Wind City to look into it."
Conston City in the Interlake County, also known as Wind City, was an area with a highly developed coal-steel industry, ranking in the top three among all cities in the Kingdom of Loen.
Before Klein could offer his opinion, Dunn continued:
"Or it could stem from the source of that notebook. Hah, we're investigating where Welch got the Antigonus family notebook, but of course, we can't rule out other individuals or organizations seeking this notebook."
"What should I do?" Klein asked in a low voice.
Needless to say, he hoped it was the first reason.
Dunn didn't answer immediately. He took a sip of coffee, his gray eyes showing not a single ripple, and said:
"Go back the way you came, and then do whatever you want."
"Whatever?" Klein echoed.
"Whatever," Dunn affirmed with a nod. "Of course, don't scare him off, and don't break the law."
"Okay." Klein breathed in, took his leave, turned, and left the room, returning to the basement level.
He turned left at the crossroads, bathed in the intermittent light of gas lamps, walking quietly through the empty, dim, and cold corridor.
The echoes of his steps stacked, accentuating loneliness and fear.
Soon, Klein approached the staircase, climbed up step by step, and saw the middle-aged priest standing in the shadows by the door.
The two met eyes, but neither spoke. The priest silently turned and made way.
Walking forward without a sound, Klein returned to the grand prayer hall. The pure light from the array of circular holes behind the arched altar remained unchanged, the dim tranquility of the room unchanged, and the ladies and gentlemen queuing for confession were still the same, only much fewer.
After waiting a while, Klein took his cane and newspaper, slowly left the grand prayer hall and Saint Selena Church as if nothing had happened.
As soon as he stepped out and saw the blazing sun, he again felt the familiar sensation of being watched, as if he were prey being eyed by a hawk.
Suddenly, a doubt surfaced in his mind:
Why didn't the "Watcher" follow me into the church earlier? Although even if he did, I could still use the dim environment and the priest's help to briefly evade his sight, but would it have been difficult for him to pretend to pray and keep watch? Since he wasn't doing anything wrong, what was stopping him from entering openly?
Unless... he has a dark past, fears the church, fears the bishop, and knows that they might have extraordinary abilities...