"Klein?" Old Neil's puzzled voice pulled him back from his thoughts.
Klein blinked, then laughed awkwardly.
"Lost in thought?"
"Uh, perhaps. Guess I thought I'd be the special one to decipher it," Klein smiled.
For reasons known only to him, Old Neil broke into a hearty laugh. "Oh, did you? Youngsters always think they are special.
"I was the exact same way at your age—thought I was one of a kind."
Klein glanced at the pages he had just read before asking, "Mr. Neil, do we only have these few pages?"
Old Neil scoffed. "Were you expecting dozens?"
"M-Maybe?" Klein looked away, shyly.
"Truth is, extraordinary creatures are slowly disappearing from the Northern Continent—and with them, the ingredients for potions as well."
"Then maybe it's time we establish a Dragons and Giants Protection Association."
Old Neil blinked, then burst out laughing. "Why stop there? Let's call it... the Fantastic Beasts Protection Association!"
"Even better—Fantastic Organisms Protection Association!"
Their shared laughter washed away the awkwardness lingering between them.
"I don't meet many interesting young men like you these days," Old Neil said fondly. "Now, I have a few things for you."
'Just like the captain said,' Klein remembered.
Old Neil retrieved a tray, revealing a few small boxes and what appeared to be a holster.
"Ten demon-hunting bullets, an armpit holster, and other regulation items. I assume you already have a gun?"
"Yes, a revolver."
"Good. That's all for today. You're free to leave."
"Thank you, Mr. Neil," Klein said as he bowed slightly before turning to the exit.
'At least Mr. Neil isn't as forgetful as Dunn. I would have lost it if I saw him rubbing his temples—trying to remember something.'
Halfway down the corridor, Klein smacked his forehead. 'Damn it! I forgot to ask about the sequences and potions. Emperor Roselle's diary distracted me.
'Maybe Rozanne knows a thing or two.'
As he descended the stairwell, he eventually ran into the green-eyed, black-haired inspector—Leonard Mitchell—his white shirt untucked and sleeves slightly rolled.
"Afternoon," said the man with a polite smile. "Sequence 8—Midnight Poet."
"Good afternoon. Sequence 8, a poet, huh?"
"You left quite an impression the first time we met. Hmm, you have... a rather enchanting aura."
Leonard extended his hand, which Klein accepted with a careful handshake.
"See you tomorrow," Leonard winked.
"See you," Klein replied, secretly wiping his hand—the one he had used to shake—on his trousers.
'He feels and sounds so—uh! Forget it.'
As Leonard reached the stairwell, he paused and looked back. "Did you notice anything?"
....
"Indeed, nothing special about him."
....
In the reception area:
"Captain says you can start on Monday. He wants you to get your household affairs in order first," Rozanne said.
"Alright," Klein replied. "Rozanne, do you know what the starting Sequence of the church's complete pathway is?"
"You wish to become a Beyonder?" Rozanne exclaimed. "Oh my Goddess! Do you even know the dangers that accompany becoming one? Hasn't the captain told—"
"Rozanne, stop!" Klein interrupted.
"Sorry," she looked down, a faint blush on her cheeks. "I get agitated over things like this. I do respect anyone brave enough to become a Nighthawk—a Beyonder—but I could never muster the courage to actually become one."
"I understand," Klein smiled warmly. "I only want to know the basics."
"Alright. I've overheard conversations between the captain and Old Neil in the past. It's very impressive to become a Beyonder! Within Tingen—over hundreds of thousands of people—there are only thirty or so Beyonders. That's just my guess—
"—uh! I've gone off track, haven't I?"
"It's okay," Klein smiled reassuringly.
She continued, "The beginning of the church's complete pathway is Sequence 9—Sleepless!"
'Sleepless...' Klein repeated inwardly.
"A Sleepless only needs three or four hours of rest to remain active. I'm jealous—well, no, not really! Sleep is a sacred gift from the Goddess, after all." She smiled. "A Sleepless can also see through darkness. The deeper into the night, the stronger they become.
"After that comes the Midnight Poet, and a step higher is Nightmare."
'Nightmare?' Klein recalled how Dunn Smith had entered his dreams.
"Captain must be strong," Klein added.
"Indeed! He's one of the only two Sequence 7s in Tingen's Nighthawks! He should know what comes after Sequence 7 and the other incomplete paths."
After a little more small talk and a few laughs, Klein bid Rozanne farewell and left.
....
On his way home, Klein bought a cane—a gentleman's companion. Its polished wood gleamed faintly in the late afternoon sun, its weight comforting in his hand.
When he arrived home, Melissa stepped in just a few minutes later.
"Klein," Melissa spoke quietly. "I'll heat up last night's dinner. Benson should be back tomorrow."
Klein's hands were in his pockets, smiling confidently. "No need. Let's eat out tonight."
"What?" Melissa was surprised.
"To celebrate my new job!" he said, grin widening. "I got another offer. They even paid me four weeks in advance."
Klein opened a drawer and pulled out a neat stack of notes.
Her eyes widened. "Goddess above... Klein, what kind of job?"
"A security company specializing in collecting and preserving ancient relics."
"Well, that doesn't sound bad," Melissa spoke with a faint, approving smile.
"With this four-week advance payment, we'll be able to move," Klein declared.
"But Klein, we're fine here! Compared to others, we're actually doing well!"
'This isn't how this scene's supposed to go.'
"Melissa," Klein said, "think ahead—Benson's colleagues or mine will visit someday, or maybe our wives in the near future. Are we really going to host them here?
"It's about propriety! If I'm earning three pounds a week, I should live like someone earning three pounds a week. And...
"...don't worry. I'm not talking about a bungalow—just a terraced place," Klein added.
"Alright," Melissa sighed. "But we'll wait till Benson comes back."
"Of course," Klein chuckled.
"And we won't eat out tonight."
"Fine. How about I make some fresh soup with what's left over from last night? You can go buy some meat, butter, and malt beer."
Klein ran the math automatically, rounding it to two soli.
He took out the money and handed it to Melissa before adding, "Buy yourself a lemon cake from Mrs. Smyrin's."
Melissa couldn't help but blink a few times before smiling.
....
Amid the pale morning light, Klein stood facing a handsome, three-story stone building.
The original Klein's alma mater—Khoy University.
He gazed across a gently flowing river, sunlight glinting off the ripples, before whispering, "This... is youth," with a wry smile.
He found his way to a building and knocked on the door of a certain office.
Knock. Knock.
"Come in," said a voice from behind the door. "You're an hour early for the interview," the man said as he noted Klein's arrival.
"Mr. Stone, actually, I came to inform you that I'm withdrawing from the interview. I've already found employment."
Mr. Stone's expression softened to a smile. "I see. I'll let the faculty know. You're a courteous young man."
Klein intended to leave after a handshake, but a familiar voice stopped him.
"Klein, you've found a job?"
"Good afternoon, Mr. Azik." Klein bowed lightly.
The man was the original Klein's lecturer before he graduated—Mr. Azik. He had bronze skin, gentle features, and a weary expression—as though every glance carried echoes of distant lives. A faint black mole sat beneath his right ear.
"Yes," Klein said. "It's a private security company. We search for, well, antiques. As you know, I do enjoy exploring history."
Mr. Azik nodded with a smile before his expression darkened. "Klein... have you heard? Welch and Naya were murdered by burglars."
'They've covered it up already with a simple burglary?'
"I'm not sure of the details," Klein said. "The police questioned me a few days ago.
"Prior to the incident, I helped them look into a notebook belonging to the Antigonus family of the Fourth Epoch's Solomon Empire. It mentioned something about the Nation of Evernight in the Hornacis mountain range."
Mr. Stone had long since left the room to meet the faculty, so Klein felt free to divulge his information with a friend of his original counterpart.
"Antigonus," he whispered. "It rings a bell... but why can't I remember...?"
Mr. Azik frowned as if lost in thought. He eventually looked up and smiled. "Or maybe... I simply know words that share the same roots."
Klein leaned forward, slightly disappointed.
"Mentor, if you come across anything, could you please let me know? A letter would do. I'll be moving soon—I'll send you a letter when I do."
"Good," Mr. Azik smiled warmly. "All your hard work has finally paid off."
"True," Klein smiled faintly.
Before Klein could leave, Mr. Azik held him back. "Klein."
Klein turned.
"It is a fine thing to explore history. However, you could easily wander into... forbidden areas, hidden in the darkness.
"And once you do, misfortune isn't far. To simply put it—be careful."
Klein's expression was one of focus and worry. In the original Klein's memories that weren't fragmented, Mr. Azik had never shared such a profound warning.
Klein simply nodded. "I'll take that advice to heart, Mr. Azik."
Klein bowed, then made his exit.
....
The sun outside hung low behind him, painting the boulevard in muted gold.
Klein walked down the three-lined boulevard, the soft rustling of leaves accompanying his steps.
Suddenly—without warning—every hair on his body stood erect.
The world seemed to tighten around him. His pulse jumped.
'Someone's watching me.' The thought came sharp, instinctive, and absolute.
Back on Earth, Zhou Mingrui would sometimes get that feeling of being observed. But the sensation this time was crystal clear and cold—like a thread of ice tracing the back of his skull.