After dinner, at the "Brave" bar, inside the billiard room.
Klein was wearing a simple black coat that blended in well with the atmosphere here, along with a dark flat cap. Carrying a glass of Southvale beer, he casually closed the door and walked over to face Caspass, who was bent over and tentatively lining up a shot.
Before he could force a smile and offer a greeting, Caspass had already stopped, straightened up, and glanced at him:
"Maric isn't here."
"There's no extra gathering of the kind you're looking for."
"I have nothing besides weapons."
The routine sure is familiar... Good thing my purpose is different today... Klein twitched his mouth and said:
"I'm here to buy weapons."
Maric isn't here again... Looks like this hideout was exposed and drew the attention of enemies, so they've simply relocated... That means I can't get in touch with Miss Bodyguard... And the helper I planned to use to bluff Miller Carter was Maric's living corpse — he'd keep secrets, follow orders, and wouldn't fear death. Well, the obedience depended on using spirituality to block the influence of the Azik copper whistle... As he spoke, a whole series of thoughts flashed through Klein's mind.
Caspass was slightly surprised. He propped his cue up suspiciously, rubbed his ruddy nose, and said:
"What kind of weapons do you want to buy? Did you run out of the previous bullets? You must be practicing a lot."
No, the bullets I use for practice are the extra ones I bought at the Cragg Club... Klein said with a smile:
"I want to buy explosives — the kind widely used in mines."
"What are you planning to do?" Caspass blurted out, his expression turning grave and serious. "I'm warning you — don't you dare try anything damnable! I won't allow my customers to provoke the Sivlas authorities! Of course, you're free to buy your weapons elsewhere."
To be able to work as a black-market weapons dealer and survive until now, he was by all accounts quite law-abiding — at the very least, he wouldn't sell to that sort of deranged person... Klein habitually evaluated from a Nighthawk's perspective, and said with a smile: "I think you've misunderstood. I'm not going to blow open any bank vaults, nor am I trying to make headlines. I'm just helping someone with a building demolition to facilitate subsequent renovations."
"Then why doesn't he hire a legitimate construction company?" Caspass hadn't let his guard down.
"Ha ha, it's a secret room. He doesn't want outsiders to know about it." Klein then asked, "Do you know any reliable demolition experts? I'm not very skilled at this sort of thing — I'm afraid I might bring the entire building down."
Seeing that the other party was still considering keeping the building intact, most of Caspass's suspicion dissipated.
Just as he was weighing his response, an ethereal, drifting voice suddenly echoed through the room:
"Not needed."
A familiar sensation washed over him. Klein quickly turned to look and found that Miss Bodyguard had, at some point, already taken a seat in the corner chair.
She was still wearing the same black Gothic court dress, along with a matching delicate soft bonnet. Her face was as pale as ever, and her light golden hair and exquisite features complemented each other's beauty.
"Good evening, my lady." Klein bowed slightly in greeting.
"Good evening, Miss Sharon." Caspass made the same gesture.
So her name was Sharon… Klein waited pensively for the other party to speak.
The bodyguard miss who had been called Sharon turned to look at Caspass and said:
"Malich won't be coming here anymore."
"If you need to find him, leave a message using the third method we agreed on."
"Understood, Miss Sharon." Caspass, this old man who had clearly weathered many storms, seemed to have an instinctive fear of the young bodyguard.
Hearing this, Klein interjected:
"If — I'm saying if — I wanted to find Malich for help, how would I get in touch with him?"
"Find Caspass." Sharon answered with extreme brevity.
"Fine." Klein spread his hands, gave a hum, and asked, "What did you mean just now when you said you didn't need a demolitions expert?"
Sharon's blue eyes showed not the slightest ripple:
"I am one."
You are? You're a demolitions expert? Wait — aren't you a Beyonder with special abilities, probably around Sequence 5? How are you also moonlighting as a demolitions expert… Klein was stunned for a moment, at a total loss for how to respond.
In the end, he chose to trust the young bodyguard, and said carefully:
"I went to visit…"
Before he finished, he glanced over at Caspass, indicating that the next topic was not suitable for this ordinary person.
In terms of the essence of his body, the black-market weapons dealer was indeed an ordinary person… Klein added silently to himself.
Sharon turned her head toward Caspass:
"Go prepare the explosives."
"Two pounds' worth."
"He's paying."
"Yes, Miss Sharon." Caspass swept a glance at Klein, then limped out of the billiard room without forgetting to close the door behind him.
Seeing the young bodyguard just watching him in silence, Klein felt as though a female ghost were staring at him. He hurried to organize his words:
"I tracked down Baron Pond's address and visited him in the middle of the night…"
After relaying Luford Pond's words exactly as they had been spoken, Klein began to show off his reasoning — the kind of reasoning that works backward from the result to reconstruct the process: