Before heading out, Klein took the time to meticulously clean his suit and top hat with a small brush and handkerchief, then changed into a fresh white shirt, donned its linen equivalent along with his only decent yet cheap jacket, and strode out onto the street.
Melissa's dress first, then Benson's suit, and only then could I consider my second set—money is never enough… Besides, I need to start accumulating glazed tableware for entertaining guests one piece at a time… And I have to save up for purchasing various occultism materials… Klein sat on the public carriage, mentally calculating the family's finances, shaking his head more and more as he went.
He estimated it would take at least a year before he, his brother, and his sister could live like what was considered the middle class.
Of course, that was without factoring in a promotion and raise.
The public carriage rolled through street after street and stopped across from the "Divination Club" on Howes Street.
Klein held down his black, non-silk half-top hat, half-jumped and half-walked off the carriage, and followed the familiar path into the club entrance on the second floor, where he spotted the lovely brown-haired woman, Angelica.
Her eye rims still bore traces of redness and swelling, but she looked remarkably relaxed overall.
Klein raised his hand and lightly tapped his brow twice, carefully scrutinizing what he saw. The deep grayish gloom in Angelica's emotional colors had dissipated considerably, replaced by a sunlit brightness.
After finishing his observation, Klein walked over, removed his hat, and smiled:
"Ms. Angelica, today really is a sunny day, isn't it?"
Angelica looked up, let out a brief gasp of surprise, and then broke into a smile:
"You're very much like Mr. Vensant's cat—you walk without making a sound. Oh, you can tell? Hehe, I forgot, you're a diviner who's skilled at reading faces…"
She paused, lightly biting her lip as she bowed:
"Thank you, thank you for the advice you gave me yesterday. I feel so much better. In this past year, I've never been this relaxed, happy, and content."
Listening to her sincere gratitude, Klein found himself infected by that joy and happiness, the corners of his mouth curving upward:
"It's my pleasure to have been of help to you."
As he spoke, he felt his own spirituality become noticeably lighter and more lively.
So this was the kind of "Diviner" the "potion" wanted—a diviner who could genuinely help those who came seeking answers? Klein pinched his brow as if lost in thought, giving two subtle taps.
He had to admit, through practice he had discovered that his current method of opening and closing "Spirit Vision" was still not discreet enough. The problem was, he hadn't yet been able to think of a better alternative in the short term, since he had only become a "Diviner" not long ago—his spirituality hadn't grown to its current limit, and his own control was similarly still developing. As such, it had to be a spot that could effectively stimulate spirituality to serve as the "switch," and there weren't many such locations. The brow was a relatively superior choice.
Once he had fully digested the "potion" and become a true "Diviner," he should be able to design a more covert "switch" gesture… Klein nodded imperceptibly and headed toward the meeting room, whose door was half open.
"Coffee or tea?" Angelica hastily asked.
"Ditsy coffee," Klein replied, adopting a mentality of trying a bit of everything.
At that moment, he noticed six or seven members inside the meeting room, but none of them was Heinsis Vensant, who had been a regular here before.
"Mr. Vensant hasn't come?" Klein stopped and asked casually.
Angélica blinked and said:
"Mr. Vensant doesn't come every day. He accepted an invitation to give lectures at a divination organization in Enmate Port. Do you need something from him?"
"No, I was just curious. After all, every time I came here before, I'd see him," Klein replied with a smile, shaking his head.
At the same time, he noticed a familiar face among the seven members:
Gracius — the man whose fortune he had once read!
Gracius was wearing a monocle and reading some documents on the table when he suddenly sensed someone watching him. He raised his head and looked toward the source of the gaze.
A look of unmistakable joy instantly appeared on his face. He braced both hands against the table, stood up, and a few quick strides brought him right in front of Klein:
"Good afternoon, Mr. Moretti! I've been wondering all day whether you'd come."
"Angélica told me — you're not a doctor, but a fortune-teller skilled in reading faces?"
Klein smiled and replied:
"That's not the only thing I'm good at, Mr. Gracius. It seems you've made a full recovery from your illness?"
He pinched his forehead and tapped the spot between his eyebrows twice, noting that Gracius's health aura had returned to normal.
"Yes, I truly regretted not heeding your advice at the time. Fortunately — fortunately, there's a very skilled pharmacist near where I live. He gave my wife a truly remarkable potion, and it kept me from dying," Gracius said with deep emotion.
As a prospective member of the Nighthawks, Klein's professional instincts kicked in:
"A very skilled pharmacist? A truly remarkable potion?"
Remarkable? How remarkable? Did it fall into the category of the arcane?
"He said it was a kind of folk remedy from the Loen area. In any case, it was tremendously helpful for my condition," Gracius replied, sensing nothing unusual.
A folk herbalist? Klein tapped his brow thoughtfully, as if deep in contemplation: