With a sudden chill running down his spine, Klein became thoughtful after hearing those words.
He and Old Neil had met one of the butlers of Deweyville once, but Klein wasn't sure if it was the same man.
That butler had committed suicide, and so had his entire family… — Klein couldn't help but remember the Antigonus family diary, but such a thing was impossible, Medici himself had escorted the Antigonus family notebook and the Spark of Cosmos to Backlund.
Even so, he couldn't rule out the possibility that it was something related to evil rituals for some occult entity.
— So should we go now? — Leonard asked with a somewhat confused look.
Everyone looked at Dunn, who didn't offer any answer.
In fact, his eyelids were already gently closed, as if he had fallen into a deep sleep at some point when no one was paying attention.
Seeing this, Klein could only sigh in his own heart.
— Yes, let's call Kenley... — he said, heading towards the door to let Dunn Smith rest at least a little.
They all walked to the gates of Chanis, passing through several corridors that made them feel very small.
— Hey, do you really think the captain is okay...? — Leonard seemed a little too thoughtful, his green eyes tender like those of a poet.
— To tell you the truth, I don't know... He was very tired. — Royalle muttered without paying much attention to the words.
They all felt the same way, Dunn Smith was extremely tired with everything that had been happening and he couldn't even rest when he got injured on the missions.
It was only when Medici arrived that he got some rest, since the demigod had to deal with most of the things related to documents and observation of the Antigonus case. However, Medici returned to Backlund and Dunn was extremely overwhelmed again.
— Really, if we think about it that way. Well, unfortunately he can't take a vacation. — Klein pointed this fact out, feeling that it was very unfair.
However, the duty of a Nighthawk was above that, and especially the captain of Tingen's squadron.
Sekka Tron didn't say a word, only sighing upon hearing about his captain's situation.
When Klein looked once more at the next wide corridor, he could see a huge gate with some symbols, as well as the sacred symbol of Midnight.
Kenley was sitting on a chair absentmindedly, in his hands was the latest edition of Emperor Roselle's book "The Raven".
And my compatriot's originality really went to waste. — Klein couldn't help but scoff, remembering the time when he was a child when he took this book hidden from his nanny's eyes, when he was still Zhou Mingrui.
Only his very observant brother found out about the book being stolen from the shelves and even encouraged him to read more since he enjoyed it, saying it was important for his mental health.
After that, some books appeared in Zhou Mingrui's room frequently.
From far away, Leonard called in a very clear tone:
— Kenley, ask Frye to replace you on shift! We have to go on a mission.
The confused Kenley raised his head, his eyebrow half raised in question as to what was happening to be so urgent.
Even so, he stood up almost immediately just to run over and ask:
— Hey, why are so many people here? Did something really bad happen somewhere in Tingen? Did someone die? Oh, don't tell me there's an occultist out there...
He looked pitiful, the thing he hated most about having to deal with were the murderous occultists that appeared in rare but terrible cases.
— That's exactly it, but a little worse. — Leonard gave a half-hearted smile.
All of Kenley's thoughts had probably fallen apart, his face becoming like one of regret.
— Okay, I'll go get him... — he muttered dejectedly, his mood seemed completely destroyed.
...
With only a few meters to go before reaching the door of the grandiose Deweyville mansion, Leonard nudged Klein with a lot of interest on his face.
— Klein, has anyone ever told you that you look like a black cat? — he suddenly asked.
Klein's expression almost fell at the same moment. What kind of strange and meaningless question was that?
Who looks like what? — he looked at Leonard with a very calm look, but deep down he was completely confused.
Royalle nodded. She seemed to agree as if it were the best argument she had ever heard.
— That's true, like my little cat, Candy, who keeps staring at the wall as if there was something terrifying from another world that no one else can see. — she said, amused by the situation.
Kenley seemed to look away from Klein, staring at him as if he were searching for the similarity hidden under his face.
After a few seconds, he seemed to have come to a conclusion:
— Doesn't it really look like that? There's also that thing that all cats have, a supernatural sense.
Klein looked at him very calmly, preparing to say something, but it was enough to make them shut up, perhaps for some reason that neither Leonard nor Kenley could explain.
— Hey, don't stare at me like that. You had that same look when you said those terrifying things about Ray Bieber. — Leonard immediately accused with a slightly strange look.
He looked away, preferring to stare at the beautiful door of the mansion.
At that moment, everyone seemed more professional, since they were about to knock on the door.
Toc.
Toc, toc.
Leonard knocked three times, not too softly or too hard, just with the necessary force.
After a few seconds, a butler with silvery blond hair opened the door very politely, so much so that he seemed to have trained his whole life for it.
— Good morning, we are the police officers who called to investigate the attempted murder, moral harassment and stalking of Mr. Deweyville. — Leonard spoke professionally, none of his frivolous personality showing.
Wow, who would have thought that this damn door could at least seem a little polite. — Klein satirized, his face very serious on the outside.
— Of course, we were waiting for you gentlemen. Please follow me. — he spoke formally, his tone very light and at the same time solemn.
He led them to the huge main room, where there was a huge white sofa with someone sitting on it, in addition to a gray piano resting on the left corner of the room, next to a beautiful window.
In that room, sitting on the sofa, was Deweyville, much more disturbed than usual.
He seemed completely shaken. There were strong dark circles under his eyes, clouded by strong fatigue.
Deweyville's mouth moved almost imperceptibly, he whispered something to himself like a madman.
He belatedly realized that there were guests in the room and raised his head, greeting them in a rhythmic tone:
— Good afternoon, dear police officers.
This man looks more like a robot than a human... — Klein narrowed his eyes indiscernibly, discreetly activating his spiritual vision with his fingers.
Deweyville's silhouette was entirely taken over by colors of blue and in huge, darker patches, almost covering his existence. He even seemed cold, and even crazier with those unreal tones that mixed so slowly that it was almost imperceptible.
He was a little worse than a lunatic in an asylum, but also very tired and delirious, even paranoid.
Klein gave a meaningful look to his companions and Leonard, together with Royalle, took a step forward.
— Mr. Deweyville, I need to confirm a few things at your residence before taking your statement. — Leonard began with a bit of his frivolity disguised in his serious tone.
Royalle saw that the persuasion seemed to have an effect on Deweyville, who nodded slightly.
— Could we inspect the room where your butler is, Mr. Cullen? We will also need to look for evidence of a break-in in your room, don't worry, we will let you know if anything happens. — She gave a serious expression — Please wait for us here.
In fact, it was not even necessary to ask to enter, since since Deweyville specifically required the police themselves to follow all standard procedure in the call they made, they themselves had been authorized beforehand.
Of course, there was a lot of bureaucracy to be followed with people like him, who were wealthy businessmen from Backlund.
Yes, it is a bit complicated to deal with people like that when you are just a Nighthawk. Fortunately, we have the support of the church and the law of the Order Hunters in many things, otherwise we might be lost... — Klein sighed in his heart, unable to help but feel sorry for the former Nighthawks, who lived in chaos without the organization of the official Beyonders.
It was simply a huge stroke of luck that the Order Hunters, those responsible for judging the law in the churches above all else and, most importantly, the military men who served specifically and only for the good of the Orthodox Churches, always ignoring any appeal from the King or any noble, existed in the world.
The Beyonders at least had their rights protected!
Deweyville glanced at them, not paying much attention. He nodded silently, and said in a hoarse tone:
— Take them to the rooms they must inspect.
The butler did not wait a moment longer before leading them through several elegant and extremely well-arranged corridors, with vases carved from expensive stones and other very beautiful paintings.
He did not say much, only indicating the respective rooms they would have to investigate.
— Gentlemen, we will be waiting for your answers. — the butler said before disappearing into the corridors.
When he was sure the man was already far away, Klein turned to the others.
— The state of Deweyville is very bad. His spirit is completely filled with sadness and very disturbed. — he said as he looked carefully inside the room where Cullen was.
It wasn't bad, very tidy in fact. There were a few shelves with books and a bed that wasn't even made.
Nothing seemed too unusual.
— The hypothesis of a lie can be ruled out. — Leonard said in his poetic tone.
Soon, everyone went to search the room for minimal evidence.
— Guys, are you sure it wasn't some kind of ritual? This is looking too perfect... Is the supposed ghost obsessed with tidiness? — Royalle murmured jokingly, her focus however never leaving the subject that should be discussed.
After all, a spirit can have OCD. — Klein scoffed in his own mind.
— No, it probably must have been something sinister related to the more spiritual side. I can't say, Klein and old Neil are the masters of these subjects. — Kenley replied, smiling.
Leonard nodded in turn as he rummaged through a closet from head to toe. When he was about to say something, he stopped with a complicated expression.
He moved something from inside the closet with a cautious air, even though he was unconcerned.
— I found a diary. — Leonard flipped through a few pages. — It's from a child. There must be something in it at least.
He opened the notebook without much attention, perhaps not expecting to find anything very useful, only at the end if they were lucky.
At the same time, Klein also began to snoop through the notebook.
"April 7th. Today is very boring. There's nothing to do."
"April 9th. My older brother, Adler, swallowed a coin! Seriously, what could he have in mind to do something like that? He must be stupid..."
"What kind of person just shoves a Soli down our throats? In addition to normal doctors for my brother, I think we'll also need those mental doctors my sister, Granya, mentioned."
"April 14th. I almost fell down the stairs. Luckily, Adler caught me. I take everything I said back, you are the best person in the whole world!"
"April 18th. My third baby tooth fell out! When I told Granya this, she said it was a bad sign that I was such a bad person that a The Goddess decided to punish me by rotting all my teeth so I could never eat again!"
"I cried myself to sleep. This is so unfair, but I will try hard to please The Goddess! I will become a faithful believer and never steal sweets from offerings again!"
"April 24th. I had to go to school, and gosh, I never thought I would be so interested in history class... At least now I know what I want to be when I grow up, I will definitely be a very professional teacher or a fashion designer, I always loved those intricate embroidery that looked like cool works of art in museums."
"April 28th. There was a fight at school. I heard that one student started hitting another because they said his handwriting was bad. I can only wonder if that was true or not."
Today's children are very violent... — Klein, who had only been in contact with strange children, couldn't help but think so.
He continued to read carefully.
"April 30th. I have a very strong suspicion that it is possible that Adler or Granya have hidden my artist's brushes! I swear, the day I find one of their favorite books lying around, I will take it and hide it somewhere they will never find it again!"
"Oh, I remember that Adler loves that book, Don Quinxote, which he loves. This revenge will be a success!"
"June 2nd. I am so happy! I heard that my parents are organizing a party tomorrow!"
"June 3rd. The party was very good, there was lots of ice cream and sweets, especially chocolate! I have never felt so happy eating, but at some point they took me out of there, otherwise I would have gotten sick from eating so much."
"There was a very strange uncle there, but he didn't say anything, so I ignored him... He even tried to talk to Adler, Granya and my cousins, however they got scared and ran inside the house and I went with them, also terrified."
"Honestly, I'm too lazy to write anymore, so maybe I won't write much. Besides, I think I could die of embarrassment if any of my brothers found out about this diary!"
"June 5th. Adler realized his book was missing, and his reaction couldn't have been better! He started crying and crying and Granya laughed at him until nightfall."
"He turned every corner of the house upside down, but he really must not have expected me to have stuck the book under one of the wooden beams of his bed! Granya must have found out, because I saw her sneaking under the bed and laughing right after."
After that, everything was pages full of normal things that a seven-year-old child would write until the day they all died.
— Nothing special, it doesn't even mention anything suspicious or anything else besides the strange man. — Leonard muttered, who was already expecting this result.
— Why would this man talk to two children and not even try to mess with the diary writer, who is a child too? — Klein noticed this at once.
Since they had no proof, they would only be left guessing.
_ That's really strange… — Royalle agreed with an arched eyebrow.
Leonard gave a somewhat frivolous smile, like all the others he gave.
— Could it be some kind of requirement for something? — he gave his guess confidently.
At that moment, Sekka Tron stepped forward as he looked around appraisingly.
— Then should we split up? It would be easier. — Sekka gave the idea very calmly, his face showing no emotion.
Everyone agreed with the idea. It would be easier to see so many places with the splitters to thoroughly inspect the rooms they were allowed to look at.
— Klein, why don't you go to the Deweyville room? You're an expert on ghosts. — Kenley thought quickly.
Neither he nor any other Nighthawk would be as good at ritual altars as Klein, so he was naturally the best choice.
Klein also thought so, and he didn't disagree, and left the room to investigate the other room. He looked around as he passed through the corridors again.
There was a cold wind coming from the open windows of the mansion, a petrifying and even comforting ice.
The lights danced in sync with the curtains, sometimes shadows tried to dominate, but with the light from the chandeliers this was not possible.
A silence took over the place, with only Klein's light footsteps, which did not make a single sound.
He finally stopped, looking at the white door adorned with rich and detailed decorations on the large frame.
This really looks like a scene from a horror book... — Klein swallowed any complaints he had and opened the door.
He was not wary of ghosts, but rather of the possibility of lunatic Beyonders who could appear at any moment.
It was the largest and most luxurious room Klein had ever seen with his own eyes in all his two lives. There was a huge bed that was impeccable, no matter from which angle it was viewed.
The cabinets were carved with precision, several details visible. Dressers and tables were made of dark wood, but very beautiful. There were many priceless decorations, however it was not exaggerated.
Uh... Someone has come in here... — Klein realized, his spiritual alarm blaring in his subconscious.
His eyes swept to the corner of the room, where he was heading as he scanned from afar.
The bone-chilling cold was even greater in this room, where the windows were wide open.
A few candles, left to burn on their own, were already nearing their end.
Whoss!
With the movement of the curtains, the shadows stirred, reaching their peak in the almost crackling silence of the room.
The flames finally lost their faint glow.
Klein shivered with a cold chill, casting his gaze towards the now-closed window.
There stood a translucent figure with black hair swaying unrealistically, silently watching.
Notes:Klein stepped back a little, seeing the translucent figure in the corner, who made no movement, just standing still.
The translucent being blinked once, its dark eyes so opaque that they were devoid of any apparent life before simply disappearing into the darkness.
Weeping noises echoed through the room, along with pained sobs that could even resonate in someone's soul, though it would be difficult for any normal person to hear.
It seemed like the tears would never cease, just like the howls.
In his own thoughts, Klein only quickly came to a conclusion after some thought.
It wasn't a human being, but rather a bundle of resentment all rolled into one!
One day, I will surely die of fright because of my spiritual perception... — he sighed, his tension easing considerably.
Wait, why is there such a strange "ghost" here?... What did he do to make people resent Deweyville so much?
Was he one of those filthy rich people who sold an image of being kind?
Regarding Cullen and his family's suicide, he still wasn't sure about anything, since it happened after Deweyville's reports of the noises he heard in his room and one of the children belonging to Cullen's family wrote in the diary that a strange person appeared at a party well before everything started, which means that there was already a mysterious suspect with no apparent links to the other events, so it could be that they were separate cases from the noises in Deweyville's room and his attempted murder.
Well, the ghost is not hostile, but he is full of resentment from head to toe... I will only be able to confirm everything if I have more evidence... However, it would be a huge coincidence if this ghost was not connected to the attempted murder in Deweyville...
When he remembered the term "coincidence", Klein's breathing stopped.
It was all a coincidence again, just like it always was!
Is this another plan by the person who instigated the Antigonus case?... Three cases that could have different origins connected to a single person in a short period of time... Maybe it's just my paranoia too.
With complicated thoughts, he approached a very tall dresser with some things neatly arranged on top.
As expected, there was nothing there other than a few books together with a beautiful antique pocket watch.
It's easier to keep doing it the old way... — Klein took out his pendulum from the inside pocket of his suit.
Placing the topaz pendulum on the table as he wrapped it around his wrist, he quickly formed a divination word:
— There's something strange in this room.
— There's something strange...
— There's something...
Repeating seven times to himself, he silently opened his eyes to see the result.
The pendulum didn't even move, remaining still without any change in its state in a chilling silence.
— There's nothing... — he murmured, a little suspicious that someone could have tampered with his divination.
At that moment, the fog completely covered Klein's vision.
It was a very young girl, who was holding some papers in her hand. In front of her was an older person, wearing white and black clothes.
— You have epilepsy. — the doctor informed, by his tone he was already used to this type of patient.
The next second, the girl had already fallen to the ground writhing, white foam coming out of her mouth.
...
When the young Eillen passed through the streets, she was stiff as stone. She looked ten instead of fifteen.
She sneezed a few times, but there was no improvement.
— Seriously, it won't stop... — she muttered, trying to cheer herself up a little.
She had been feeling sick for a few days, but she could never go to a doctor because of the lack of money.
Maybe if she did, it would cost her a month without food on the table.
— And the rent... — Eillen remembered. Her face became a little distorted.
She felt something cold running from her mouth, and when she touched it, she realized it was some kind of very foamy white liquid.
— This... — she didn't even have time to say anything else before collapsing, writhing in pain, no kind of feeling reflected on her face, her eyes already dark.
...
The other view was of a very modest house, probably one that could belong to the outskirts of somewhere in Loen.
There were extremely old things, some cabinets very worn by time and other furniture that even looked a little burned.
Sitting at a messy table was a young girl with black hair, Hayley, her slightly pale face smiling as she looked at the other children.
— I have to go! — She stood up hurriedly, a little too stiff, as if she was in pain.
She ran to the door, and when she was about to touch the doorknob, she coughed lightly.
Harley opened the door without looking back, walking through the deserted streets of the East Borough towards a very large lead factory that was constantly throwing smoke into the gray sky.
At the door, there was a young girl like her, equally pale to the bone. The bruises on her skin were visible even from afar. A black eye and her left arm marked red by a thin hand.
She was extremely thin, very unhealthy from all that.
Hayley turned around, perhaps thinking that she might end up the same way one day.
She had already thought about it and accepted it, she had no better choice than that.
Harley heard from a friend that there were many people who prostituted themselves in bars or brothels scattered around the outskirts of the city, however, most of them contracted fatal diseases because of this or were not paid, some were even killed and worse things that she didn't even want to think about.
She sighed deeply, deciding that this was the most merciful path to follow, not for her, but for her family.
Suddenly, the image broke into several pieces, reforming into a different one.
Hayley was walking down the street, her paleness so evident that it was possible to see it even from the other side of the street.
She had worked eleven hours straight, without any rest.
Harley coughed violently with each step she took, her throat and nostrils full of phlegm that would not come out for anything.
Her body began to shake uncontrollably, her tremors increasing with each passing second.
Suddenly, she saw a carriage with the Deweyville family emblem with a white dove with its wings spread pass gracefully.
White foam began to run from her mouth, her limbs already very weak.
Her eyes no longer had any trace of life.
There were hundreds of others, young women who first had mild symptoms before passing away, people who had nothing to survive on the outskirts, human beings who no longer had any path to follown.
In the end, every flame of life that would have been fervently extinguished.
Klein saw every scene unfold, every life disappearing, countless remnants of hope fading, he knew that there was a point connecting the people he saw.
They all had something in common: they worked in lead factories.
Lead factory... — Klein immediately remembered the private lessons he had received on Earth when he was young.
On Earth, many workers in Europe, especially in England at the time of the Victorian era, had the poorest who worked in white phosphorus factories, which were deadly.
People would fall ill suddenly, until they died quickly and were replaced by others who looked for some opportunity to avoid starving.
White phosphorus had deadly chemical mixtures in its composition, and Zhou Mingrui only knew about all the risks because of his older brother, who was a renowned scientist and explained everything to him in detail.
In this world, Klein heard from Mr. Azik in some conversations about this. The teacher warned him of the dangers of trying to work in lead factories, emphasizing that he should never try to do something like that.
He even explained everything so that it would be well engraved in his mind.
With so much information, Klein came to a conclusion, a realistic one for the world he lived in.
Since those young women could not and were not able to have other jobs, they went to the factories, where they could earn the minimum, which was already a lot for them.
They would die little by little, until they could no longer breathe.
Deweyville owned lead factories, and consequently was linked to the girls' deaths and the resentment of the spirits!
I just don't know where it started exactly, Harley perhaps?... Well, that brings me to another question, was the attempted murder of Deweyville revenge? — Klein thought in his own thoughts.
It was possible, who wouldn't want justice if thousands died at the expense of others?
I got an answer...
He had in mind that, if Benson hadn't been with them and had tried so hard, perhaps he and Melissa would have the same fate.
Thousands of others had gone that way, and thousands more would go that way.
As for that, there was nothing Klein could say to Deweyville.
— Now I can only check his spiritual condition. — he said to himself, just like he did in his dreams when he controlled two bodies at the same time.
He didn't wait another second inside that room, walking through the cold corridors to the living room, where Deweyville waited alone.
— Crazy people... — he said softly.
Deweyville was mumbling things like a madman, not even caring about Klein's presence, it was as if he didn't exist in his delirium, until he did.
— Dear police officer, what do you want? — he asked, somewhat disturbed. His eyes darkened in pure paranoia.
— Sir, I think your problem with crying noises in your room may be due to your mental state. — Klein sat in front of him, very calm.
Deweyville first frowned slightly, but he couldn't deny that it was very bad and then he sighed deeply.
— Are you a health specialist? Well, his appearance really pointed to that... — he said honestly what he thought. Klein was very thin and didn't seem very capable of taking down a single person without techniques or weapons.
Out of the corner of his eye, Klein could see Leonard walking from one hallway to the other as he listened to the conversation. He was swallowing his own laughter, but he was doing a terrible job.
My dear wandering poet, you'll see when you're in the same situation. — he complained in his heart.
— I'm an expert in psychology. — he said simply, as if he was used to it.
Deweyville was convinced, Klein's tone was not forced or too calm, it was simply natural.
— I'm not crazy.— he sounded desperate.
—I know. My partner said the murmurs started before everything about the murder or suicide. There's no need to say it. Just imagine for yourself what could have caused him so much disturbance before. — Klein said carefully.
His smile was very calm, even completely professional.