Klein felt the warmth and strength emanating from the other person's hand, and the turbulent emotions in his heart remained unsettled for a long time.
He felt like he had found his tribe, and he was full of energy.
The two sat down again, and the atmosphere became more harmonious and intimate than before.
They even made a pact to do something together tomorrow.
After discussing the agreed time, Klein suddenly remembered something, a question he had wanted to ask before but had never had the chance.
"By the way," he looked at Nairn and asked, "that novel in today's paper called * Oliver Twist *, and that cartoonist who draws * The Mechanism Worker *, whose pen name is ' Pen Name' —are they also—?"
He had suspected it for a long time.
The profound realistic critique of " Oliver Twist," along with its precise depiction of the suffering of the lower classes, perfectly matched the ideals of the " Remaining Embers " organization that he had just heard about.
As for the comic called " The Mechanism Worker," although he had only seen a few panels previewed in the newspaper, its eerie, distorted style, full of industrial horror, immediately reminded him of a master on Earth known for his horror comics.
Klein couldn't think of anyone else who could pull off such a feat besides Nairn, who was also from Earth.
"Oh? You saw it?" Nairn raised an eyebrow, not surprised at all.
"Yes, it's very well written." Klein exclaimed sincerely, "especially ' Oliver Twist,' which exposes the dark side of Backlund in a bloody way."
"Of course, look who wrote it." Nairn admitted it without any modesty, with a hint of pride on his face.
Klein's lips started twitching again.
This guy is really a multi-talented individual.
He's a master at manipulating people's hearts, a master at scheming and plotting, and now he's even a master at writing novels and drawing comics.
Does this mean no one else is allowed to live?
"Then... what does that pen name mean?" Klein couldn't contain his curiosity and pressed for an answer.
He always felt that the name was a bit strange, like a combination of two names.
Upon hearing this question, Nairn's face broke into a mischievous grin, as if he had pulled off a prank.
"Junji Ito, Motoki Kato."
"Huh?" Klein didn't react for a moment.
"Yeah, right," Nairn said matter-of-factly, shrugging his shoulders.
"I will use tragedy to kill everyone in this world!"
Klein: "————"
He stared blankly at Nairn, feeling all the lofty ideals he had just built up about him shatter into pieces in that instant.
What revolutionary leader, what pioneer of the times, what profound soul—
To hell with them all!
This guy is not a genius at all.
He's a complete and utter fun-seeker who thrives on chaos!
He wrote " Oliver Twist " perhaps not really to awaken the public, but because he found the act of "revealing darkness " itself quite amusing. He drew " The Mechanism Worker " perhaps not to criticize the alienation of people by the industrial age, but because he found the act of "scaring people with horror stories" quite amusing.
He founded the " Remaining Embers " organization, possibly because—
Klein dared not think any further.
Looking at Nairn's smiling face, he suddenly felt as if he had boarded a pirate ship.
A pirate ship steered by the ultimate fun-seeker, with its goal of reaching the stars (or the vast Abyss ).
The conversation has basically come to an end here.
Everything that needed to be discussed has been discussed, and everything that needed to be explained has been explained.
Nairn stood up and stretched.
"Alright, it's getting late, you should head back." He pointed to the doorway. "You have to go to work tomorrow, Mr. Nighthawks."
Klein also stood up and nodded.
There was so much information tonight; he really needs time to process it all.
He walked to the doorway and placed his hand on the door handle.
But just as he was about to pull the door open and leave, he stopped.
He turned around and looked at Nairn, who was standing in the center of the living room.
He had one more question, the most crucial and core question, which he didn't ask.
"Wait!" Klein called out to him.
Nairn stopped and looked at him with some confusion.
Klein's gaze turned incredibly serious, even sharp, at that moment. He stared intently into Nairn's eyes and asked clearly, word by word, "What—what is your purpose?"
Klein didn't speak immediately; he just stared into Nairn's eyes, those eyes that always held a smile and were hard to read.
Tonight, he talked about the Earth, ideals, and the future. He felt closer to Nairn than ever before, and because of this, the ultimate question in his heart became clearer than ever before.
"Saving Old Neil, establishing the Foundation, forming the Remaining Embers, guiding Audrey, and all that you did at the Tarot Club —you toyed with me, you helped me—"
"Everything you do is like playing a very, very big game of chess. What exactly are you trying to do?"
This was the biggest question in his mind.
If Nairn is truly just a pure fun-seeker, then everything he has done is far too grand and far-reaching.
That doesn't make sense.
He must have his own ultimate goal.
The air in the living room seemed to freeze for a moment.
The flames in the fireplace were still flickering, making a soft crackling sound.
The gaslight from outside shone obliquely through the side window, striking Nairn directly and abruptly severing his silhouette.
Half of him, bathed in the warm, dim light, still had that relaxed, smiling look on his face, with that familiar, nonchalant curve at the corner of his mouth.
The other half, however, sank into the deep, impenetrable shadows beyond the reach of the fireplace light. Only his straight nose and defined jawline reflected a cold, sharp light.
Light and shadow intersected on his face, forming a straight line.
At this moment, he seemed to be a boundary marker, separating the superficial world from the core reality.
He didn't say anything.
The night fog outside the window and the faint tea smoke rising from the fireplace inside the room intertwined silently, making his silhouette appear somewhat ethereal, unlike a real person.
All the previous banter, ingenious arrangements, and seemingly casual gifts and guidance settled down at this moment, transforming into an immeasurable weight in his silent figure.
The habitual curve at the corner of his mouth, seen through the interplay of light and shadow, no longer appeared as mere amusement or mockery.
It's more like a person, after knowing too many heavy costs, choosing to wear a light mask for themselves.
But in that shadow, his eyes shone with an astonishing light.
Through this moment, I gaze at Klein from afar, and at an incredibly vast and distant future that Klein may not yet be able to fully comprehend.
The light cast his long, slanted shadow onto the bookshelf behind him.
The shadow was stretched and magnified, resembling a pair of black wings about to unfold, blotting out the sky, or a giant beast that had been lurking in the darkness for thousands of years.
The edge of the shadow just happened to cover the invisible blueprint on the desk about " The Past," " Remaining Embers, " and " Rebirth," which the two had just discussed.
The outermost edge of the shadow trembled slightly in the air, as if an invisible, surging torrent was surging beneath it.
silence.
The silence lasted only two or three seconds, yet it felt as long as countless days and nights.
Nairn did not respond to Klein's question with any words.
He simply stood there, in this interplay of light and shadow, answering with his entire being.
Finally, he nodded very slightly.
As if by signal, the magic of light and shadow vanished instantly, and he returned to being the ordinary young man with clear features and a slight smile.
"Take care on the road, Klein."
Nairn's voice remained calm and normal.