"OK." Klein bowed slightly and took off his not-so-tall hat and put it back on his head. At the same time, he was imagining more about the appearance of the sealing object "0-08".
Looks like an ordinary ballpoint pen?
No ink needed for writing?
Then what is its real function? Why is it so highly confidential and considered "extremely dangerous"?
Could it be a causal writing pen that determines who dies?
No, that would be too extreme. Inns. Zangwell doesn't need to flee...
Klein had just turned around and was about to leave when behind him, Dunn. Smith suddenly called out to him:
"Wait a moment, I forgot something."
"What?" Klein turned back, his eyes full of confusion.
Dunn. Smith put away his pocket watch and smiled:
"Wait, remember to ask the accountant Mrs. Olliana to advance your salary for four weeks, a total of 12 pounds. Then receive only half of your salary each week until it's repaid."
"That's too much. There's no need for this. It could be less."
Klein subconsciously said this.
He wasn't against the advance payment. After all, he didn't even have the fare for the public carriage to go back, but taking 12 pounds at once was still a bit frightening.
"No, it's necessary," Dunn. Smith shook his head and smiled, "Think about it, would you still want to stay in this apartment? The bathroom is shared with several households, not considering yourself, you also have to consider the ladies, and... "
Seeing Klein nod in agreement, he paused for a moment, smiled and looked at Klein's clothes for a few moments, meaningfully saying:
"And you also need a walking stick, and you have to buy formal clothes again."
Klein was stunned for a second, then suddenly realized that he was wearing a cheap outfit.
Normally, the hat should be made of silk, worth 5 to 6 sous, the bow tie 3 sous, the silver-plated walking stick 7 to 8 sous, the shirt 3 sous, the pants, coat and tailcoat 7 pounds or so, the leather boots 9 to 10 sous, and this set would cost more than 8 pounds and 7 sous in total. Of course, a decent gentleman would also need a watch chain, pocket watch and wallet.
The original owner and his brother Benson saved money carefully and saved up a sum of money. They went to a clothing store and asked, but they didn't dare to bargain and just left in shame. They got by with a set each at a cheap store near Iron Cross Street, for less than two pounds.
It was because of this that the original owner had an extremely deep impression of the prices of clothes.
"OK, OK." Klein replied with a slight stutter.
He was also a person who valued his face.
Dunn. Smith took out his pocket watch again and looked at it:
"Or you could go to Mrs. Olliana first? I don't know how long you will stay at Old Neil's, wait a little longer, Mrs. Olliana will be home soon."
"OK." Klein felt extremely poor and didn't object.
Dunn. Smith walked back to the table and pulled one of the hanging ropes:
"I'll take you there with Rosanne."
The rope moved, the gears turned, and Rosanne in the reception hall of "Black Thorn Security Company" heard the light ring from the hanging bell and hurriedly stood up, carefully going downstairs.
Not long after, she appeared in front of Klein.
Dunn. Smith smiled humorously:
"Did you not disturb your rest? Well, take Morretti to Mrs. Olliana."
Rosanne gave a subtle frown and replied, "OK, Captain."
"Is that it?" At this moment, Klein was surprised and blurted out.
Going to "Finance" to advance the salary doesn't require you, the captain, to write a note or anything?
"So?" Dunn. Smith asked in confusion.
"I mean, going to Mrs. Olliana to advance the salary, doesn't it require your signature?" Klein said in as plain words as possible.
"Oh, no, it doesn't, Rosanne can prove it," Dunn. Smith pointed at the brown-haired girl and replied.
Captain, our "financial management" here has almost no management... Klein suppressed the urge to tease and followed Rosan out of the room.
Just then, he heard Dunne shout again:
"Wait a moment, there's one more thing."
Can we finish the sentence at once? Klein replied with a smile on his face as he turned around:
"Go ahead."
Dunne pressed his temple:
"When you went to Old Neil's place, remember to collect ten 'Demon Hunter Bullets'."
"Me? Demon Hunter Bullets?" Klein asked in surprise.
"Dunne, your Colt revolver wasn't there, right? So you don't have to hand it in." Dunne said with one hand in his pocket. "With the 'Demon Hunter Bullets', if you really encounter some strange danger, you can protect yourself. Well, this can give you courage, at least."
No need to add the last half sentence... Klein, who was already worried about this matter, answered without hesitation:
"OK, I'll remember it!"
"This requires me to write a formal document. Wait a moment." Dunne Smith sat down, picked up the dark red absorbent pen, scribbled out a "note", signed his name, and stamped it.
"Thank you, Captain." Klein accepted it sincerely.
He slowly stepped back and turned around again.
"Wait."
Dunne shouted again. ... Captain, you look no more than thirty years old. How come you show signs of premature aging? Klein forced a smile and turned back to ask:
"Is there anything else?"
"I just forgot. You haven't practiced shooting, so the 'Hunter's Bullet' is of no use to you. Well, then, you should receive thirty normal bullets every day. Take advantage of your outings and go to the underground shooting range on Zorteland Street 3 to practice. Most of that area belongs to the police department, but there is a piece of land exclusively for us night guards. Oh, by the way, you also need to get a badge from Old Neil. Otherwise, you won't be able to enter the shooting range. " Dunn patted his forehead and took back the "paper note" from Klein. He quickly added other contents and affixed a seal.
"Good marksmen are trained with bullets. Don't underestimate them." Dunn handed the revised "paper note" to Klein again.
"I understand." Afraid of danger, Klein wished he could go right now.
He took a few steps outside, suddenly turning his body cautiously and considering before speaking:
"Captain, is there nothing else?"
"No." Dunn nodded affirmatively.
Klein let out a sigh of relief and walked all the way to the door. During the journey, he wished he could turn around again and ask, "Is there really nothing else?"
He suppressed this impulse and finally "successfully" left the "guard room".
"Captain has always been like this. He often forgets things." Rosan walked beside him, whispering to criticize, "My grandma has a better memory than him. Of course, he only forgets minor things. Well, minor things, Klein. From now on, I'll call you Klein, Mrs. Oliona is a kind person and very easy to get along with. Her father is a watchmaker with excellent skills..."
Listening to the chatter of the brunette girl, Klein stepped onto the stairs and returned to the upper floor. In the farthest office on the right, he met Mrs. Oliona.
This was a black-haired lady wearing a lace dress. She looked around thirty years old, with fashionable curly hair. Her bright green eyes were clear and smiling, delicate and elegant.
After hearing Rosan's account of Dunn Smith's arrangement, Oliona took out a note and wrote a pre-authorization slip:
"Sign it. Do you have a seal? If not, just make a fingerprint impression."
"Okay." Klein completed the procedure familiarly.
Oliona took out a copper key and opened the safe in the room, counting the gold coins while smiling:
"You're so lucky. There's enough cash today. By the way, Klein, you were invited by the captain because you were involved in an abnormal event and have special skills?"
"Yes, madam. Your intuition is very accurate." Klein didn't hesitate to praise.
Oliona took out four bills with a light gray base and dark black patterns, relocked the safe, and turned around, smiling:
"I'm the same way, too."
"Really?" Klein appropriately expressed surprise.
"You know the serial killer who shocked the entire Tinggen City sixteen years ago?" Oliona handed the four gold coins to Klein. "... Remember! That bloody butcher who killed five young girls, taking their hearts or stomachs? My mother used to scare my sister with this story when I was little." Klein thought for a moment.
He took the banknotes and found they were two 5-pound notes and two 1-pound notes, all with a grey background and black patterns, and complex designs and special watermarks for counterfeiting.
The former was slightly larger, with Henry Augustus I, the direct ancestor of King George III, the fifth king of the Kingdom of Rouen, in the center. He wore a white hat, had a round face, narrow eyes, and an extremely serious expression. But in Klein's eyes, there was an inexplicable closeness.
This was a 5-pound note!
It was equivalent to Benson's salary for nearly a month!
The central part of the 1-pound note was King William Augustus VI, the previous king, a "domineering figure", with thick beard and determined eyes. During his reign, the Kingdom of Rouen broke free from the old constraints and once again rose to the top among the nations.
These were "good kings"... Klein faintly smelled the pleasant smell of the banknote ink.
"Right, if the night watchmen hadn't arrived in time, I would have been the sixth victim." Mrs. Oliaan's tone still contained a hint of fear, even though this incident had been over for more than a decade.
"It sounds like that serial killer, no, butcher, was an extraordinary person?" Klein carefully folded the banknotes and put them in the inner pocket of his suit, then touched the area nearby several times to confirm.
"Yes." Mrs. Oliaan nodded firmly, "He had killed many people before. That time he was caught because he was preparing a demonic ritual."
"Of course, for different internal organs... Sorry, madam, for bringing up something unpleasant." Klein said sincerely.
Mrs. Oliaan smiled lightly: "I wasn't afraid anymore... At that time, I was studying accounting at a business school, and then I came here. Alright, don't hold me up any longer. You still have to go find Old Neil."
"Goodbye, madam." Klein removed his hat and bowed, leaving the office. Before descending the stairs, he couldn't help touching the inner pocket again to confirm that the 12-pound note was still there.
He turned at the crossroads, moved to the right, and soon saw a half-open iron door.
Bang, bang, bang.
There was an old voice inside the door:
"Come in."
Klein pushed open the iron door and found it was a narrow room, capable of accommodating only one table and two chairs.
On the opposite side of the room, there was a tightly locked iron door, and behind the table, an old man with gray hair and wearing a classical black robe was reading several yellowed pages under the light of the gas lamp.
He raised his head and looked at the door, saying:
"You are Klein. Moretti? Miss Rosanne just said you were very polite."
"Miss Rosanne is really a kind person. Good afternoon, Mr. Neil." Klein removed his hat and saluted.
"Sit down." Neil pointed at the intricately patterned silver-plated tin can on the table, "Would you like a cup of ground coffee?"
The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth were deep, and his dark red eyes were slightly hazy.
"You don't seem to have drunk anything?" Klein noticed that Neil's ceramic cup contained only water.
"Haha, this is my habit. I don't drink coffee after 3 p.m." Neil explained with a smile.
"Why?" Klein casually asked.
Neil smiled and looked into Klein's eyes, saying:
"I'm afraid I won't sleep well at night, and then I'll hear some strange whispers." ... Klein suddenly didn't know how to respond. Instead, he asked:
"Mr. Neil, which documents and classics should I read?"
As he spoke, he took out the "note" written by Dunn Smith.
"Related to history, complex, fragmented. To be honest, I have been trying to learn, but I can only grasp the initial level. The rest is too troublesome. Things like people's diaries at that time, popular books, epitaphs, and so on, and so forth. Neil complained, "For example, these ones I have here require more detailed historical records to infer the specific content."
"Why?" Klein was a little confused.
Neil pointed at the several yellowed pages in front of him and said:
"This is the diary of Rosel Gauthier before his death. He kept it secret by using strange symbols of his own invention to record."
Rosalind the Great? An elder from the time travel community? Klein was stunned for a moment, then focused on listening.
"Because many believe that he did not truly die but became a hidden deity. So there have been cultists who worship him and hold various rituals, trying to gain power. We occasionally encounter such things and obtain original or copied notes of these." Neil shook his head and said, "As of today, no one has been able to interpret the true meaning of those special symbols. So the 'Temple' allows us to keep the copies for research, hoping for unexpected surprises."
At this point, Neil smiled proudly:
"I have deciphered several of the symbols and confirmed that they are expressions of numbers. Look, what I discovered. This is actually a diary! Well, I hope to compare the historical events on different dates, especially those around the emperor, with the records in the diary for that day, to interpret more symbols."
"Genius thinking, right?" The old man with white hair and deep wrinkles looked at Klein with shining eyes.
Klein nodded in agreement:
"Yes."
"Haha, you can also take a look. Tomorrow we'll have to start helping you with this work." Mr. Neil pushed the several yellowed pages to Klein.
Klein straightened them out, but just glanced at them and was frozen in place!
Although the "symbols" were sketched and depicted rather poorly, with some minor distortions, he would definitely not mistake them... Because these were his most familiar characters:
Chinese!
And it was simplified Chinese!