Lord of the Mysteries

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Da da da.

The footsteps echoed in the narrow, narrow corridor, and spread far and wide in the silence, no noise.

Klein's back was straight, and he didn't go slowly with the middle-aged pastor. He didn't ask questions, didn't chat, and was like a windless lake.

Passing through the guarded passage, the middle-aged priest opened a secret door with a key and pointed to the downward stone steps:

"The crossroads to the left is the Chanis Gate."

"May the goddess bless you." Klein clicked on his chest to outline the "shape" of the moon.

The secular use of secular etiquette, religion uses religious rituals.

"Like beautiful god." The middle-aged pastor returned with the same action.

Klein no longer speaks, follows the stone steps, and walks deep into the darkness with the help of elegant gas lamps embedded in the walls on both sides.

Halfway through, he subconsciously turned back and saw that the middle-aged pastor was still standing at the door, standing at the top of the ladder, standing in the shadow of the gas light, as if it were a wax figure that would not move.

Klein retracted his gaze and continued to move. Not long after, he touched the ground with icy slabs and went to the crossroads.

He didn't turn to the direction of "Chanis Gate" because Dunn Smith, who had just passed the round, would definitely not be there.

Following the familiar road on the right, Klein re-entered another step and appeared inside the "Black Thorough Security Company."

Seeing the door or closing or half-covering, he did not look recklessly, but entered the reception hall and saw a sweet-haired brown-haired girl who was concentrating on reading a magazine.

"Hey, Rosanne." Klein came to the side and deliberately tapped the table.

Dangdang!

Roshan ran up, knocked over the chair and said in a hurry:

"Hey, the weather is good today, you, you, Klein, how come you?"

She stroked her chest with her hand and gasped for two breaths, like a little girl who was afraid of being caught by her father.

"I have something to find the captain." Klein replied briefly.

"... scared me, I thought the captain came out." Roshan glanced at Klein. "I don't know how to knock! Oh, you should be glad that I am a generous, kind lady, hey, me. I like the word girl... What do you want to find the captain? He is in the room opposite Mrs. Oliana."

Even though the spirit was quite tight, Klein was amused by Roshan and smiled.

"secret."

"..." Rosanne's eyes were round and unbelievable. At the same time, Klein was slightly embarrassed and quickly quit.

He re-opened the door of the first office of his right hand through the partition door of the reception room.

"Please come in." Dunn Smith's low and gentle voice.

Klein pushed the door in, and the backhand closed, taking off the hat and saluting:

"Good morning, Mr. Captain."

"Good morning, is there anything?" Dunn's black trench coat and hat are hanging on the side of the coat rack. The exposed body is only wearing a white shirt and black vest, even if the hairline is high, gray eyes. Deep and refreshing, it seems a lot refreshing.

"Someone is following me." Klein replied truthfully, without making any extra modifications.

Dunn leaned back, his hands clasped, and the dark ash was quietly looking at Klein's eyes.

Instead of following the topic, he asked:

"You came from the church?"

"Yes." Klein definitely answered.

Dunn nodded slightly, did not say good or bad, turned back to the topic:

"It may be that Welch's father did not believe in the cause of the death of our report. From the Windy City, a private detective was invited to investigate."

The city of Conston in Kamihain is also known as the Windy City. It is an extremely developed area of ​​the coal and steel industry and ranks among the top three in all cities of the Kingdom of Lun.

Not waiting for Klein to express his opinion, Dunn continued:

"It may also come from the source of that note, oh, we are getting the Antigonus family notes from where Chavech got. Of course, it is impossible to exclude other individuals or organizations that are pursuing this note."

"What should I do?" Klein asked quietly.

There is no doubt that he hopes to be the first reason.

Dunn did not answer immediately, took a cup of coffee and took a sip, and the ashes did not see a trace of martyrdom:

"Go back according to the previous road and do whatever you want."

"Any?" Klein asked.

"Any." Dunn must nod. "Of course, don't scare away each other, don't break the law."

"Okay." Klein took a breath and turned to leave the room and return to the basement.

He turned left at the crossroads, bathed in the light of the gas lamps on both sides, and walked quietly in the empty, dark, cold passage.

The echoes are superimposed, and the more lonely, the more fear.

Soon, Klein approached the ladder and stepped up, seeing the middle-aged pastor standing in the shadow and standing at the door.

When the two met, they did not speak. The middle-aged pastor turned silent and let the road open.

All the way silently, Klein returned to the Great Prayer Hall. After the arched platform, the light and purity of the round holes remained the same. The darkness and tranquility in the room remained the same. The Mr. and the ladies who lined up in the outdoor queue were still a little less.

Waiting for a while, Kline took a cane and a newspaper, as if nothing had happened, and slowly left the big prayer hall and left the church of St. Serena.

As soon as he went out and saw the raging sun, he suddenly had a familiar feeling of being watched, only to feel like a prey that was stared by the eagle.

Between Horan, a doubt emerged in his mind:

Why didn't you follow me to the church before the "Peeper"? Although that way, I can still use his dark environment and the help of the pastor to pass him a short "disappearance", but is it difficult to pretend to pray and follow the monitoring? Nothing to do bad things, is there any problem with going straight?

Unless he has a black history, fears the church, fears the bishop, knows that the other person may have extraordinary ability...

In this way, the possibility of private detectives is very low and low...

call! Klein breathed a sigh of relief, no longer as tight as before, taking a leisurely walk and winding to the back of Zouteland Street.

He parked in front of an old-fashioned, mottled building with a house number "3" and the name "Zotelan Shooting Club".

The underground shooting range of the police department is open to the "public" to earn extra funding.

When Klein just entered, the feeling of being peeped disappeared immediately. He seized the opportunity and gave the badge of the "Special Operations Department" to the waiter in charge of reception.

A little verification, he was introduced underground and came to a closed small shooting range.

"10m target." Klein simply said to the waiter, took the revolver from the arm of the armpit, and took out the box of brass-colored bullets from the pocket.

Suddenly being stared at, let his desire for self-protection overcome the procrastination, so he can't wait to practice the gun.

Snapped!

After the waiter left, he took out the runner and quit the silver hunting demon bullets, then picked up the normal bullets of brass color and stuffed them into the nest.

This time, he did not leave the vacancy to prevent accidental shots, did not take off his formal jacket, took off the half-high hat, and practiced in the most common dress. After all, it is impossible to shout after encountering enemies and encountering danger. "Please stop, let me change the light clothes first."

Hey!

Klein closed the runner and slid it with his thumb.

Suddenly, he held the gun in both hands and jerked up straight, aiming at the target 10 meters away.

But he did not rush to shoot, but seriously recalled the military training off-target experience and common sense such as three points and one line, shooting and recoil.

Oh! Oh!

In the sound of the clothes, Klein practiced aiming over and over again, practicing holding the position, seriously like a child in the college entrance examination.

After repeated many times, he retreated to the wall, sat down on the soft bench, put the left wheel aside, massaged his arm and rested for a while.

After spending a few minutes thinking about it, Klein picked up the pistol of the wooden grip and the copper runner again, came to the shooting position, made a standard posture, and pulled the trigger.

boom!

His arm trembled and his body leaned back slightly, and the bullet deviated from the target.

boom! boom! boom!

After taking the experience, he shot with one shot and one shot, and felt the feeling in practice until all six bullets were shot.

I started to get on the target... Klein stepped back and sat down, taking a breath.

Snapped! He took out the wheel and let the six shells fall to the ground, and then continued to insert the remaining brass color bullets into one piece.

The activity relaxed the lower arm, and Klein stood up again and summed it back to the shooting position.

boom! boom! boom!

The guns reverberated and the target swayed. Klein practiced again and again, rested again and again, and collected all the 30 normal bullets and the remaining five rounds, and gradually stabilized the target and began to pursue the number of rings.

With his sore arm, he pours out the last five shells, lowers his head, and inserts the silver hunting demon bullets with complex patterns one by one, and reserves a false hit.

After the left wheel was placed under the gun bag, Klein patted the smoke and dust on his body, and with a relaxed effort, he walked out of the special shooting range and returned to the street.

The feeling of being looked at once again appeared. Klein's mood was calmer than before. He walked slowly to Champagne Street and spent 4 pence on the rail public carriage back to Iron Cross Street and entered the apartment where he lived.

The sneak peek was silent, and he took out the key, opened the door, and saw a man close to thirty, wearing a linen shirt and keeping his short hair sitting at the desk.

With a tight heart and a moment of relaxation, Klein smiled and said:

"Good morning, no, good afternoon, Benson."

This man is exactly the brother of him and Melissa, Benson Moretti, only 25 years old this year, because the hairline retreats, looks old, looks almost 30.

His black hair is brown, and he is a bit like Klein, but there is no such faint book.

"Good afternoon, Klein, how about the interview?" Benson stood up and smiled at the corner of his mouth.

His black jacket and half-height hat were hung from the bulge of the bed.

"Very bad." Klein replied without expression.

Seeing Benson stunned, Kline smiled and added:

"In fact, I didn't attend the interview at all. I found a job in advance, with a weekly salary of 3 pounds..."

He repeated the words he had previously said to Melissa.

Benson calmed down and shook his head and smiled:

"There is a feeling of seeing a child grow up... well, this job is not bad."

He sighed:

"It’s good to hear such a good news when you come back. We have to celebrate tonight, buy some beef?"

Klein laughed:

"Okay, but I think Melissa will be distressed. In the afternoon, we will go shopping together. Take at least 3 Sule?? To be honest, 1 pound for 20 Sule, 1 Sule for 12 pence, and half. Penny, a quarter of a penny, such a currency is simply counterintuitive, very troublesome, I think it must be one of the most stupid currency in the world."

After that, he saw that Benson’s expression became serious, and he was a little embarrassed, wondering if he had made a mistake.

Isn’t Benson a pure and extreme kingdom supporter in the memory fragments that the original Lord lacks, and can’t let others negate it?

Benson took a few steps and retorted with a serious look:

"No, no one."

No one... Klein groaned, and quickly reacted and smiled at his brother.

Sure enough, Banson is good at ridiculous humor.

Banson’s mouth was upturned and added a serious:

"You should understand that to develop a reasonable and simple currency system requires a premise, that is, know how to count, master the decimal, but unfortunately, in those big people, such talent is too rare."