Deweyville leaned forward slightly, wanting to listen more carefully to what Klein had to say at that moment, maybe there really could be something to help him.
Even so, the professional remained silent. It was a very serene silence, even extremely relaxing.
Deweyville felt better than he had ever felt before, his head no longer throbbed as much as before, without the same horrible disturbance that beat like a hammer in his head.
However, he tapped his shiny leather shoe on the floor rhythmically.
He sighed, trying to remember just as the specialist had told him to do.
Even before searching through all his old memories, Deweyville already had a rough idea of the answer.
He knew, but he just unconsciously denied it as if it were something unimportant.
— I... I saw something that impacted me a lot some time ago... I must say it was my fault, in a way. — He didn't specify exactly what it was, he just sighed deeply, leaning back on the couch again.
He was sinking into his own conscience like a confused man, a person uselessly torn between a tightrope of guilt and blind insensitivity.
It was so expected that Klein understood the situation since he saw the obvious movements that screamed anxiety and apprehension in the man.
A very sentimental man indeed, still thinking about others. Since he still donated money, there were a few possibilities for this and this was one.
In any case, he won't be able to hold on much longer like this. If he continues like this, he will most likely kill himself tomorrow night. — he analyzed without any pity, this was everyone's life after all.
Having such a great influence meant, without exception, having an uncountable pile of guilt for endless matters, be it deaths or crimes that they considered completely heinous.
Everyone swept it under the cloth, maintaining an impeccable appearance in the eyes of society.
Some were forced to be in the cycle, others were smiling happily, even some who blamed themselves and continued for some ostentatious and varied reason.
Even those who sold a worthy image, even the churches, even those who didn't say a single word, even those who didn't appear in public, even everyone who danced like puppets at the royal palace festivities, even those among the rebel commanders, even those in the tainted halls of mansions or who claimed to be untouched by evil, there were no innocents.
It was inevitable that such a thing would happen, there would always be some dirt beneath a statue of solid gold and seemingly translucent in its purity.
There were so many in this world who chose that same path that Klein would not be surprised if Deweyville was one of those people.
Deweyville blinked a few more times, gradually losing all concentration he had on anything other than that subject.
Suddenly, his eyes seemed a little cloudier, as if he was sinking into his own mind.
His voice was very heavy, full of barely concealed guilt:
— I was just strolling around Backlund, nothing major, like I always do…
He stopped, his pupils dilating in horror.
— I didn't think everything was going to be so bad… No, I knew, I was aware… — He began to scratch his own hand, in a desperate attempt to escape his situation, perhaps thinking that the light would be a relief.
He seemed increasingly frantic.
— That young woman died so young… It weighs on me, and I have no right to say anything else about that event, I don't have enough discernment… — His fingers turned white, blood running from his own grip. — Lead factories really do have many harmful actions on others, and yet I continued my business…
Deep down, he unconsciously wanted to defend himself like anyone else would, but the words stuck in his throat like heavy stones.
It was his fault, and he knew it perfectly well, but he lied so much that one day his conscience stopped caring, or at least that's what he thought.
That's remorse. — Klein recognized immediately.
To do as much as kill thousands indirectly, one needed an iron mind, so cold and indifferent to others that one only cared about oneself and nothing else, or at least a strong narcissism complex.
Sometimes, being born in such a milieu was enough, and even some were born wanting more, but it was obvious that Deweiville had a weak psyche.
From what Klein could tell, this man came from the lowest classes in the outskirts. His hands were calloused and full of old calluses, no matter how hard he tried to hide them.
His skin was almost tanned and burned on a small part of his neck, an attempt to hide the old sunburns with clothes.
Well, he regrets it because he comes from the outskirts. If he wanted to be like that, he could be sure he wouldn't break.
Uh... He's not self-centered, he doesn't want more money or influence, and he feels guilty, apparently for a long time...
Why sacrifice his mind knowing he'll lose, knowing he'll have no chance of overcoming his conscience? This man is not an idiot, he was about to give up everything...
Suddenly, Klein remembered that he was different.
This man kept eating himself up because he couldn't deal with the guilt and dragged it around like a huge snowball. He, however, wouldn't do that. He would find a different way to do everything.
Furthermore, since he arrived in that world, Klein had never been one to harbor guilt in his own heart.
It simply seemed like a waste of time to imagine another possibility when he had more to do.
He knew the answer to Deweyville's guilt
Well, that's because he's human.
So guilty, even though he knew exactly what the consequences of his actions would be. I must just say that he's a human. He wasn't foolish, but he acted as expected, thinking he could handle everything.
Klein's yellow eyes still seemed kind, hiding the mixture of a deep emptiness with a lot of contradiction in irony.
He felt guilty because he was human, but he continued to drag the situation out... How strange, they are so contradictory.
However, sometimes I have to remember that not everyone is involved in the madness of the Beyonder world, I have to remember that they have the right to feel different emotions without being judged too human.
Humans have contradictions as far as I know.
Wait, why am I thinking like this? — Klein found himself slipping into his thoughts.
I'm getting confused...
Now that I look back, I thought he was weird for being as normal as anyone else... Not exactly, it's like he doesn't care... No, that's not specifically it...
... What is this?
Not even Klein knew what he was feeling.
But that didn't matter now, it was a matter he could deal with later by talking to himself.
Now he had to deal with Deweyville and its disastrous mess of feelings.
The man's fingers were already digging into his own skin, his eyes burning not with hatred, but horror.
It wasn't fear of a monster or even death like others would normally feel, but terror of himself.
— I knew it... I... He killed them... — his eyes went blank in terror — He knew... He... I killed them...
Klein lightly tapped his fingers on the table twice as if he had done it unconsciously, drawing the man's attention.
— Mr. Deweyville, unfortunately there is no way to solve the deaths. — He paused, watching the man's breathing even out. — However, The Goddess's grace has no limit, so much so that she granted us her words.
— Remember Her words, 'The future is not a complete reflection of the past.'
Klein disagreed with those words for some reason, more than he should have.
Even now, the web of mysteries surrounding The Creator of the City of Silver was strange.
As far as he knew, The praised Almighty God had freed the Kingdom of Silver from the dominion of the Ancient Gods, freeing the humans.
Ironically, the fate of the world was the fall of that glorious reign in the Third Epoch, Epoch of Calamity for various unknown reasons until no one remembered it, sinking it into the river of history.
And before that, probably the fall of the rule of The Ancient Gods at the hands of The Creator. Many who had no known history or legends to remember them.
Who knows if it would not happen again?
Perhaps something like this had happened even in the Second Age, before The Ancient Gods.
It was hard to say whether The Almighty God of he City of Silver was really The Creator of All, perhaps it was like The Fallen Creator and the gods of secret organizations like the Silver Court and Blood of Redemption.
If that were not true, then there might be a lot of hidden history even before the Second Epoch until the First Epoch, the era of the creation of everything.
Even more Ancient Gods, fallen kingdoms, exterminated races, people erased from the world, and unknown calamities.
— Maybe there is a way to improve your mental condition. — Klein said, his tone always as calm as the sky.
— And what would that be? — Deweyville, who felt immediately interested, couldn't help but ask.
Klein's smile was perfectly genuine in the eyes of the famous entrepreneur, without a single error that could indicate any lie coming from him.
Both his tone and actions never made Deweyville the least bit suspicious of him. Even though they had spoken little, he was completely certain that he was a very experienced professional in psychology, even though he was young, and he could certainly help him more than anyone else.
Furthermore, from Klein's words, he was a believer of The Midnight Goddess like him.
At that moment, Klein's tone was solemn, but also extremely calm.
— You know, most of the time, poorer people don't have time to even think about themselves when they have to support themselves, and it gets worse when you have to support your family alone when you're young.
— The young woman you saw certainly had more siblings, a household that she had to help support every day, that's why she went to the factory. She probably knew the consequences, but she continued because she had no choice and still… — He paused for a moment, his expression giving the impression of memories.
— I heard from a friend of mine in Backlund that it's common for children from the outskirts to have to endure more than sixteen hours of hard work a day and be poorly paid. That girl probably held three or four jobs elsewhere and still didn't earn enough to pay for even five loaves of bread.
— She could probably also receive some help from the Goddess Church. — It would be hard to go there with so much to do, but she did it, all for the good of her home.
— Help that girl's family.
Notes:What do you mean by helping her family?
Deweyville scratched his hands lightly, his feet pattering on the large brown carpet.
Klein blinked once, looking at his own figure reflected in the coffee that seemed untouched on the table.
That was a very abnormal face, but strangely familiar.
It was his own face.
— Give them the chance to get out of the life she died for to try to take them.
He raised his light gaze that was covered by a dark haze in the yellow.
It was a better offer than others, at least for the psychology of Deweyville and Hayley's own family.
As much as Klein wanted to offer more, there was little he could do more when talking to Deweyville. A loud sigh sounded, very shaky.
Deweyville lowered his head, his somewhat deprecating gaze fixed on the cup.
— You... — he seemed confused, placing his hand on his head. — That's right. I should just try less to protect what she... The girl gave her life, and I just despaired like a fool.
The sounds of rhythmic footsteps grew louder.
In the end, Klein knew that the conversation would end like this, it was what he had planned after all.
Luckily, I had come up with all sorts of plans to make sure things didn't go wrong now. Even if I hadn't, Deweyville is a lot easier to deal with than I thought, too much so... Why does this seem a little strange?
Anyway, I can never rush into things with others! — he mentally scolded himself, registering the sound of Deweyville's meaningless mutterings.
The man seemed to be broken.
Deweyville forced himself to nod repeatedly without any will, his hands trembling a little.
The sound of his shoes hitting the floor was the only thing that filled the room.
Since he had nothing else to say, Klein stood up to give the man some space.
He left the room without looking back. As soon as Klein closed the door, he saw Leonard leaning in the corner, looking much more cheerful than usual.
— There was nothing there, not even a hint of anything. — The poet tilted his head, extremely convinced. — You discovered something, didn't you?
Klein just looked at him very calmly, without denying it.
— The case of the ghosts that tormented you is solved, and no, it may not be the same thing that is connected to the butler's suicide or the attempted murder in Deweyville.
He didn't explain everything at first, he would only say it when they got to the Cathedral.
Sometimes, the walls had ears.
At the moment they were dealing with so many things related to various suspicious matters, it was even possible that the floor could hear them.
Leonard understood what he meant just by looking at him, so he just nodded without any concern, even if he had.
He could even try to hide it, but it didn't escape Klein's eyes.
— By the way, did you study psychology together with your history degree? Why didn't you ever tell me that? — He changed the subject.
Who studied psychology? — Klein frowned slightly in confusion, only wondering where his dear poet had come up with that conclusion.
He never implied anything like that, and what Deweyville said was just an ingenious invention he had at the time to lie and solve the problem of Harley's ghost and also to help the girl's family.
He just elaborated the lie, but it was impossible for the other Nighthawks to think it was true, or at least that's what he thought.
— Huh? — Klein looked at him confused and couldn't even understand what the hell Leonard was thinking, so he didn't have much of an expression. In fact, he knew exactly what his poet friend was feeling.
He was just as confused as he was, but also very, to a worrying degree, curious.
— Didn't you tell Deweyville that you were a psychologist and even managed to solve many of his mental problems? — the dear poet reminded him as if it were the most obvious fact.
— I'll tell you that I thought it was a lie at first, but it seems that you really studied a lot... However, I'm confused, was it true or not?
He was really convinced of his guess and took it as if it could be true.
— That was a lie to deceive Deweyville. — Klein replied simply, not even bothering to say more.
— So it was a lie... — Leonard murmured dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as if he felt betrayed.
— Klein, remind me to never get on your bad side in any situation, especially those that involve making up a story. — he still had that amused smile on his face — Have I told you that you're a great liar?
Those words seemed to turn on a switch in Klein's memories.
It wasn't necessary, my brother reminded me of that on Earth...
He could remember that at least. The days when he would find an excuse or two to get out of an embarrassing situation, but his brother apparently loved to tease him and then laugh like a decrepit hundred-year-old man remembering the past.
This conversation also reminded him of him, who in addition to having a degree in Chemistry, History and Biological Sciences, also had a degree and a doctorate in Psychology.
A great psychologist, especially when he had to raise someone at a young age with so little experience.
A very memorable person, even if Klein didn't even remember his face.
He had a real name.
Klein mentally held back his sigh, continuing to walk without being able to stop a soft smile from appearing.
— So let's go back to deliver the report to the Captain, the others will look for more, standard code.— Leonard didn't even need to say much, because Klein would already understand with those words.
Even so, he still seemed to have a lot to talk about, maybe even for hours on end.
Unfortunately for them, it was raining a little, but nothing that would disturb them other than a few tiny particles that sparkled in their vision, falling over the city with no sun in sight in the gray.
The poet didn't seem the least bit bothered, and then he got straight to the point:
— What was wrong with Deweyville? I mean, he seemed stranger than usual, as if he was hiding something.
— He had remorse. — Klein said, and he couldn't be more right.
Leonard's face still seemed to be smiling, even with the slightest frown between his eyebrows.
He didn't understand his words, or at least he didn't seem to fully understand the entire situation.
Klein only blinked once, thinking for a moment, before turning his gaze, so indiscernible and at the same time full of serenity, to his dear friend.
— Deweyville had remorse, guilt for his own actions whose outcome he had known long before he did them. Deweyville lied, covered up and tried to cover up the guilt, but apparently it wasn't enough. He wanted to kill himself, for something he himself had caused with the lead factories and couldn't bear, like hundreds and thousands of others had.
— Isn't it ironic? Deweyville lied to himself, drowned in lies just to end up so miserable. But even so, I understand, he's human.
There was no real mockery in his tone, no accusation, just a real understanding that didn't even come close to being able to truly comprehend the feeling, not physically, not completely.
He couldn't really understand that feeling of overwhelming guilt in Deweyville, no matter how much he managed to know and dismantle all the man's thoughts and feelings.
Klein understood, but he couldn't feel exactly the same thing for someone and he didn't want to.
Maybe he had once, but not anymore, he couldn't even remember if he had ever felt it in either of his lives.
— I understand. — Leonard lowered his gaze slightly, with that smile more like a facade as well made as a sculpture made of marble.
He looked guilty.
However, Klein didn't bring up the subject.
It would be better if Leonard sorted it out on his own.
At least I know myself well, I don't have any general problems in finding out who I am...
I'm Klein, I'm Zhou Mingriu...
I don't think I'll get any worse than I did fighting Ray Bieber again...— Klein blinked once, choosing to focus on the fine drops of water coming from the clouds as his thoughts grew deeper.
He had no problem overthinking during the rain.
Leonard soon turned his head to him again, his eyes already a little thoughtful under a thick layer of frivolity.
He had certainly heard something, coming from a certain shadow superimposed on his body.
It seemed like he had come up with a hunch, one so big that he was even shocked to the point of forgetting his problems.
— Do you think there's something wrong with this whole story? Some evil entity? Some greater culprit? Connection to another case. — His low voice was abnormally lacking the confidence he always carried.
Klein looked at him with yellow eyes opaque by the heavy fog of the inexplicable, something so deep that it was almost meaningless, but full of serenity.
He knew that his dear poet was only trying to get information about the Deweyville case, but not anything about himself.
Maybe it's this old portable shadow's idea, he thinks I'm sure of something... Yeah, he's testing me.
Well, I only have suspicions about the connection between the Deweyville case and the person who instigated the Antigonus case... — he didn't change his expression, having a conclusion in his thoughts.
At the same moment, he cast his gaze not directly at Leonard, but at someone who was in the same place as him.
That same someone probably knew more than he let on.
— You already know the answer. — he replied and then didn't say another word.
It wasn't safe to answer anything else now, that alone was enough to give Leonard and his shadow a clue.
It could even be Klein's paranoia, but he wouldn't be the one to be careless.
Yeah, preparation never hurts in situations like this... Let Leonard look for information with the portable grandpa and finally become aware of something in these strange cases.
I just hope my dear wandering poet doesn't try to ask things so blatantly, otherwise, even if I throw myself into the Khoy River, I won't be able to get any targets off my back! — he sighed internally, his vision wandering around the surroundings.
They walked in silence, Leonard seemed to be thinking a little too much to say anything.
After a few streets they finally arrived, they saw the large cathedral with a pointed roof.
They entered the back in silence before descending into the vast underground, with only the inverted candles giving some light to the path filled with frames and fours of all kinds.
The moment Klein stepped on the last step, Leonard turned abruptly, seeming to want to say something, however he quickly closed his mouth as if someone had reprimanded him.
Klein didn't even stop walking, following the poet to the Captain's office.
Calmly entering, he could even see the same serene expression on Dunn Smith's face, who was drinking his coffee with triple sugar as always.
— Report, only part of the three, the case of the hauntings in the mansion. — Klein announced as soon as he saw his Captain sitting at his desk, full of various church documents.
Dunn nodded, as if telling him to continue his words.
Finally, Klein began to tell what had happened in detail:
— As you know, Deweyville is a well-known banker, especially in the industrial sector in Backlund, so he has factories, specifically lead factories. However, lead is toxic and deadly when a person is exposed to a certain amount every day.
— The people who worked in the factories were mostly from the outskirts, the poorest. They couldn't afford doctors or even leave that life, and so they died of poisoning from the same cause.
— The accumulation of resentment along with Deweyville's guilt accumulated in a specific ghost, Hayley was her name. Just like her, the other spirits were from the young women who worked in lead factories.
Dunn looked at him with great tiredness reflected in his pupils, worn out by the experience he had in life perhaps.
This was not a new situation, since the times of Roselle, The Age of Steam and Machinery in and even before, when slavery had not yet been abolished anywhere in the world.
Even before, many from the poorest areas had no choice but to die for a single piece of bread.
The Captain stared at his almost cold coffee for a second, before asking in his same serious tone:
— Anything else to add?
— Judging by the situation, Deweyville would probably take his own life tomorrow. He was having panic attacks and also didn't recognize himself at times. The guilt was eating away at him completely. — Klein explained his own full conclusion of what he had found of the situation, without adding anything else.
He said a few more things, everything he considered important.
Finally, Dunn turned to face Leonard, who promptly began speaking:
— About the second and third parts of the investigation, we haven't found anything useful about the butler's suicide or the attempted murder against Deweyville and the others are still investigating.
— We need further investigation, but there is no certainty that any of the last parts of the case are linked to a supernatural event, at least it seems that there is more chance that the suicide is linked to the Beyoder world than an attempted murder of a banker.
— And no one has gone to see the butler's house yet since Frye is guarding the Chanis gate and Old Neil is in the weapons warehouse.
Dunn nodded, seeming to have made a decision and then said:
— I'll take over from here.
— I'll go to the Deweyville mansion to investigate with Kenley and Sekka. Klein and Leonard can stay at the Chanis gate for a joint shift. Then we will resolve the matter regarding the butler's house.
He stood up ready to leave, and crossed the threshold.
Before anyone could say anything, he appeared at the threshold again, this time with Old Neil.
For some reason, Dunn Smith was looking too seriously at Neil and Leonard when he said in a slightly deeper voice:
— One more thing. If something happens, do not ask Klein's opinion about hunting anyone, be it a normal person, a thief, a prisoner, a wanted person, a victim, or even Beyoder, unless it is strictly necessary, a matter of life or death for all the Nighthawks.
— Please, I ask this of you for the physical and especially mental well-being of the wanted person.
Soon after he left as if he had given the most important news.
Seriously? Captain, do you have something against me? — He arched an eyebrow, trying to dig into his own memory of the day he had made a bad suggestion.
From what he knew, they had all been too good for others to consider it terrible, or worse, something that would go wrong.
It was never to harm the integrity of innocent people, only the wanted person if he was a terrible individual and it wouldn't be a loss.
He would just come up with a plan to indirectly push the person to the edge of madness so that he could capture him or get information from him while he was away, it didn't involve any fighting.
Of course, there might be conflict somewhere, but it wouldn't really be necessary if it was someone like Ray Bieber, unless it was complicated.
But Klein knew there were other ways out, like slowly pushing the person off a cliff in his own mind.
— Exactly, we don't want a repeat of that idea about Ray Bieber. — Leonard laughed a little, nervously. — I'm already considering putting that sign on the meeting room door.
It was an understatement to say that Klein didn't feel confused.
— That plan was good, I don't understand what your problem with it is. — he replied without much emotion, also unwilling to understand the situation.
His dear poet looked at him in a somewhat incredulous way, as if he really wondered if there was a chance he was a complete lunatic.
— Are you sure Benson didn't drop you head first on the floor when you were a child? — Leonard seemed quite serious in his doubt, even though he seemed to want to laugh.
He didn't even wait for the other party to answer, continuing his speech:
— Going to a psychologist would be a good option to alleviate the situation, I know a good one.
—Well, I was hoping you would see a health specialist, schizophrenia is something that can start in us at an early age. — Klein stared at him, his eyes half-dull with their typical calmness.
The wandering poet fell silent in an instant.
Why am I always the one labeled crazy? — Klein didn't even bother to say anything else, just leaving the room without paying attention to Leonard's choking.
He just continued on his way to Chanis Gate with the poet, hoping that he could finally get home after some time.
Klein couldn't help but think that he would have to divine whether there would still be rain afterwards, otherwise he would be accompanied by the sound of the melody of water falling from the dull gray skies like a song of the world itself as he returned home and might get a scolding from his brothers for standing in the rain.
Notes: