"Petition?"
Klein shuddered and, following the method of his previous spying on the "Hanged Man," let his spirituality spread and touch the dark red ball.
Before his eyes, a blurry and distorted image emerged, where he could vaguely see a youth with brownish-yellow hair kneeling on both knees, facing a pure crystal ball.
The black tight-fitting clothes the youth wore were completely different from the fashion trends of the Loen Kingdom, and also quite distinct from the traditional costumes of foreign countries like the Feysac Empire and the Intis Republic that Klein had seen in magazines.
The surroundings were dim, with old tables and chairs, occasionally illuminated by sudden flashes, but Klein couldn't hear any thunder or the sound of raindrops.
In the image, the youth clasped his hands together against his forehead, leaning forward, and was constantly petitioning something, his thick voice buzzing around Klein's ears.
Klein listened intently, but discovered an embarrassing fact:
He couldn't understand what the other was saying; it was a language he had never encountered before!
...As the Mysterious Ruler above the Gray Mist, I don't even understand "foreign languages"... Klein laughed self-deprecatingly, and with reluctance, he listened more carefully, even more attentively than when he took the English listening exam.
As he listened, he gradually noticed a problem:
Although the other's language didn't belong to any he had learned, it was very close to ancient Feysac, with similar signs!
"Father... mother... these two words should mean this, right? They are very similar to ancient Feysac, but with some differences..." Klein furrowed his brow, deep in thought, "Ancient Feysac is the common language of humans in the Fourth Epoch, the source of all contemporary languages, and it itself has been gradually changing... I can't be sure at all now..."
He listened again and again, ruling out contemporary languages like Loen, Feysac, and Intis based on grammatical structure.
"Is it a variant of ancient Feysac from a long history? Like the writing in that Antigonus family notebook?" Klein tapped the edge of the bronze table, nodding imperceptibly, "There's another possibility: ancient Feysac didn't appear out of nothing; it evolved from Giant language... The Feysac Empire in the north has always claimed its citizens have Giant blood... This might be the Giant language from ancient times..."
At this point, with insufficient knowledge, Klein had to stop, withdraw his spirituality, and no longer watch or listen.
He had no plans to immediately pull the petitioning youth into the Gray Mist; he wanted to first understand what the other was saying.
Of course, before that, he would observe often and conduct basic "assessments."
Hu... Klein exhaled, leaning back in the magnificent temple of gray mist.
He enveloped himself with spirituality, simulating the feeling of falling.
....
After "reviewing" Roselle's diary, Klein changed into formal attire and headed out to the Divination Club.
Despite his doubled salary, he still chose to take the public carriage, but he splurged a bit by supporting Mrs. Wendy's business, spending 1.5 pence on a cup of sweet iced tea to dispel the afternoon heat.
Arriving at Howls Street, Klein threw the paper cup into the trash can and walked up to the second floor.
Before entering, he pinched the bridge of his nose and activated his spiritual vision.
As soon as he stepped into the reception hall, Klein immediately felt a faint sadness pervading the room.
The beautiful receptionist, Angelica, was sitting there, her gaze unfocused, her eyes slightly red.
"Sorrow will pass." Klein approached Angelica and spoke gently and steadily.
Angelica looked up abruptly, murmuring somewhat dazedly:
"Mr. Moretti..."
Soon, she came to her senses and asked in surprise:
"You, you know about Mr. Vansente?"
"Ah, yes, I forgot you are an excellent fortune teller."
Klein cooperatively sighed:
"I can only divine vague circumstances... What exactly happened to Mr. Vansente?"
"The boss told us that Mr. Vansente had a sudden heart disease while sleeping and passed away peacefully," Angelica said, her voice growing tearful. "He was a kind, polite, true gentleman, a spiritual mentor to many members, and he was still so young..."
"I'm sorry to make you more sad." Klein didn't offer much comfort and slowly walked toward the meeting room.
Angelica took a handkerchief, wiped her eyes and nose, and then looked at Klein's back, raising her voice:
"Mr. Moretti, what would you like to drink?"
"Black tea." Compared to coffee, Klein preferred this, although he didn't think it was particularly good.
Relatively speaking, he preferred ginger beer and sweet iced tea, but as a gentleman, he shouldn't act like a child in formal occasions...
Because it was Monday, there were only five or six members in the meeting room. In Klein's spiritual vision, their emotional colors were all different; some were truly sad, some were slightly dim, and some were almost unaffected.
"Very normal... normal reactions." Klein nodded imperceptibly, took his cane, and casually found a seat.