After a full half hour of undisturbed silence, Klein opened his eyes and slowly stood up.
He picked up his cane, donned his hat, left the church, and took a hansom cab back to Minsk Street through the darkness of the night.
By this time, the vigilance and inspections in the surrounding area had inevitably slackened, becoming shadows under the light of the gas lamps.
Soon after midnight, Klein pulled out his keys and opened his door. He first entered the empty guest rooms to look for the Book of Secrets.
Without much effort, he directly saw the ancient book bound in thick parchment inside the wardrobe on the first floor.
The hardcover of the book was a deep black, with two lines of Hermes written on it in a scarlet hue:
“Book of Secrets.”
“Kalaman.”
Huff… Klein let out a breath. Instead of flipping through it immediately, he quickly constructed a Spirit Wall in the room and performed a ritual of summoning and answering his own summon. Then, together with the container, he tossed items such as Azik’s copper whistle, the Universal Key, the All-Black Eye, Beyonder bullets, the bottle of biological toxin, the Werewolf Beyonder characteristic, and the Book of Secrets onto the gray fog. He planned to wait for the commotion to subside before deciding which items to take out and carry with him.
Having done all this, he didn’t even bother to study the specifics of the Werewolf Beyonder characteristic and the bottle of biological toxin. He simply washed up and lay down on the bed.
One reason was that studying items and flipping through books took too much time and could easily cause trouble for his physical body in the real world on such an unquiet night. The second was that Klein had deeply recognized a current weakness of his—the speed at which his own spirituality grew couldn’t keep up with his increasing number of Beyonder powers and mystical items.
Having fought just once so intensely, he now had depleted spirituality, a headache, and was drowsy.
Mm, the greatest burden on his spirituality was the “Paper Figurine Substitution,” followed by making “Holy Water of the Sun” with the brooch, though he hadn’t used it tonight, and then “Summon Holy Light” and “Flame Jumping”… Klein yawned and used meditation to shake off the state of being so exhausted that he was highly strung and couldn’t fall asleep.
In less than ten seconds, he had fallen into a dream, with various fragmented scenes alternating before his eyes.
…………
In the empty lot surrounded by abandoned warehouses, the “Mechanical Heart” came and went, came and went. The person in charge of this incident had already gone from a squad captain to a Deacon-level powerhouse.
Ikanser Bernard’s brown hair was always messy, stubbornly sticking out in every direction. Even wearing a hat couldn’t hide it.
So much so that many members of the “Mechanical Heart” joked privately that this Deacon probably used bombs to cut his hair.
At this moment, Ikanser, whose face had sharp and distinct lines, was holding an ancient silver mirror.
On each side of the mirror was an eye-like ornament. They were based on black gemstones, looking deep and captivating.
Ikanser looked around and said, “Although those rats in the sewers are experts at interfering with divination and spirit channeling and have effectively handled the scene, this is the mysterious supernatural world. No method can guarantee a hundred percent success.”
As he spoke, he looked at the silver mirror in his hand and stroked its surface three times with his right palm.
Pausing for two seconds, Ikanser took a deep breath and said in a deep voice, “Respected Arrodes, my question is: who were the participants of the events that just took place here?”
The surrounding darkness suddenly became hazy, and ripples of watery light spread across the surface of the silver mirror.
Soon, an image appeared within the silver mirror:
In the rising flames, there was a figure floating in midair. He wore a black double-breasted long coat and a half-height silk top hat. His form was twisted and indistinct, his face blurred beyond recognition and smeared with greasepaint.
At his feet, tongues of fire surged upwards, engulfing him.
With a flash of water light, the image changed, revealing a middle-aged man in a dark red cloak. His arm was burning with brilliant flames, yet his head was hidden in the darkness.
Scenes shifted one after another. Ikanser and the others also saw a woman with an elaborate black court dress and disheveled pale golden hair. However, her face was completely transparent, as if it didn’t exist.
Beside this lady were two men whose bodies were covered in black fur, their backs being pulled by various bizarre arms.
Finally, the changes ended, freezing on a scene where beams of flames roared into the sky, “fireworks” bloomed brilliantly, and light shone in all directions.
In this dreamlike scene, the man in the black double-breasted long coat appeared again.
His body twisted and stretched horizontally. Facing forward, he pressed the hand holding his top hat to his chest and gave a slight bow.
His face wasn’t only extremely blurred as if by interference, but it also faintly showed the color of greasepaint.
Ikanser was about to ask his team for their opinions when several lines of ancient Fesac words suddenly appeared on the silver mirror:
“According to the Principle of Equality, it is my turn to ask a question.”
“If you answer incorrectly, or lie, you will suffer punishment.”
The word “punishment” was as red as blood, as if it were still dripping liquid!
The expression on Ikanser’s face twisted for a moment before becoming extremely serious.
Then, light rippled on the silver mirror, and a line of new words appeared.