Phew, finally got through the ordeal with the seer... Klein exhaled a breath of foul air, turned around slowly, and strolled towards the apartment door while enjoying the tranquility of the night and the refreshing cool breeze. He took out his key, inserted it, and turned it gently, allowing the black with a tinge of red to expand with a creaking sound. Walking up the empty staircase and breathing in the cold air, Klein felt a strange sense of having gained a few extra hours of life compared to others, and his steps became lighter. Click, maintaining a similar mindset, he opened the door to his apartment. But before he could step in, he saw a figure sitting quietly in the darkness in front of the desk, with black hair bathed in red, brown eyes bright, and a delicate face. It was clearly Melissa Moretti! "Klein, where have you been?" Melissa's frown smoothed out as she asked in confusion. Before Klein could answer, she added, "I just got up to go to the bathroom and found you weren't at home." Klein, with rich experience in deceiving his parents, quickly thought of an excuse and replied with a nonchalant smile, "I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep, so I thought it would be a waste of time to just lie in bed. I went out for a few laps. Look, I'm all sweaty." He took off his coat, turned halfway around, and pointed at his back. Melissa stood up, glanced at him indifferently, and after a few seconds of consideration, said, "Klein, you don't have to put so much pressure on yourself. You'll definitely pass the interview at Tingen University. Even if you don't, well, I mean if, you'll find something better." I haven't even thought about the interview... Klein nodded and said, "I understand." He didn't mention that he had already received an offer because he hadn't made up his mind yet. Melissa gave him a deep look and suddenly turned around, jogging into the inner room and taking out a turtle-shaped object made of gears, rusty iron, springs, and clockwork. She wound up the spring quickly and placed the item on the desk. Click, click, click, tap, tap, tap, the "turtle" hopped and walked rhythmically, drawing everyone's attention to it. "When you feel troubled, watching it move like this makes you feel much better. I've been doing this a lot recently, and it's very effective! Klein, try it," Melissa invited with bright eyes. Klein didn't refuse his sister's kindness and leaned in to look at the "turtle". When it stopped, he smiled and said, "Simple and regular movements do bring relaxation." Before Melissa could say anything else, he pointed at the "turtle" and casually asked, "Did you make this yourself? When did you make it? I didn't know." "I used discarded materials from school and things I found on the road. I finished it just two days ago," Melissa replied with a normal expression, her lips curling slightly. "Very impressive," Klein sincerely praised. As a boy who was bad at mechanical work, he had struggled to assemble a four-wheel drive car when he was a child. Melissa raised her chin slightly, her eyes slightly curved, and replied in a flat tone, "It's nothing, it's nothing." "Excessive modesty is a bad trait," Klein chuckled and asked, "Is this a turtle?" The atmosphere in the room suddenly became tense. Melissa's voice sounded like a light red veil as she said, "It's a puppet." Puppet... ... Klein gave an embarrassed smile and forced an explanation: "It's a problem with the materials. They're still too crude." Then he changed the subject: "Why did you go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? There's a toilet in there. And aren't you good at sleeping through the night?" Melissa froze for a moment. After a few seconds, she opened her mouth to explain. Just then, a series of loud rumbling sounds came from her chest and abdomen. "I, I'm going back to sleep!" With a bang, she grabbed the turtle-shaped "doll" and ran back to the inner room, closing the door behind her. ... Last night's dinner was so good that I ate too much and now my stomach is not feeling well... Klein shook his head and smiled, walking slowly to the desk and sitting down silently on the chair. Under the crimson moon peeking out from behind the clouds, he quietly thought about Dunn Smith's invitation. The disadvantages of being a civilian staff member in the Night Watch team are very obvious: As a time traveler and the initiator of the mysterious gathering, "The Fool", I have many secrets. Staying under the watchful eyes of the Night Watch team, which is specifically responsible for handling supernatural events in the Church of the Night Goddess, is quite risky. If I join Dunn Smith and the others, my goal will definitely be to become a supernatural being to cover up the benefits I gained from the "gathering". But once I become a formal member, my freedom will surely be restricted. Just like civilian staff members have to report when leaving Tingen, I won't be able to go wherever I want or do whatever I want, and I will miss many opportunities. The Night Watch is a strict organization. Once there is a mission, I can only wait for the arrangement and accept the orders, and cannot refuse. There is a risk of losing control as a supernatural being. ... Listing the disadvantages one by one in his mind, Klein then considered the necessity and the benefits: From the "transference ritual" and other experiences, he knew he wouldn't be among the 80% of the lucky ones mentioned by Dunn. There would definitely be strange events befalling him in the future, full of danger. Only by becoming an extraordinary person or joining the Night Watch could he have the ability to resist. To become an extraordinary person, relying solely on the "gatherings" was impossible. The problem of potion recipes wasn't a big deal, but where to find the corresponding materials, how to obtain them, how to concoct them, as well as the common knowledge of daily practice for extraordinary people, he had serious obstacles. He couldn't ask "Justice" and "The Hanged Man" for everything and exchange everything with them. This would not only damage the image of "The Fool" and make them suspicious, but also there wasn't enough time to discuss such trivial matters. Similarly, he had nothing they were interested in to offer. Moreover, more material exchanges would leave traces of his real identity. At that time, "online disputes" would turn into "offline conflicts", which would be troublesome. Joining the Night Watch would definitely allow him to come into contact with the common knowledge of the mysterious world and related channels, accumulate sufficient corresponding connections, and use this as a fulcrum to leverage the "gatherings" and obtain the maximum benefits from "Justice" and "The Hanged Man". This, in turn, would improve his real status and gain more resources, forming a virtuous cycle. Of course, he could also go and join the "Psychological Alchemy Club" mentioned by Dunn, an organization suppressed and hunted down by various churches. However, becoming a member of them would also mean losing his freedom and constantly living in fear. More importantly, he had no idea where to find them. Even if he managed to extract the relevant information from "The Hanged Man", making contact with them rashly would be life-threatening. Becoming a civilian employee still left room for buffer and withdrawal. A hermit hides in the wild, a medium hermit hides in the city, and a great hermit hides in the court. The identity of a Night Watch member might be a better camouflage. In the future, when he becomes a high-ranking member of the Arbiters' Court, who would suspect that he is a heretic and the mastermind behind a secret organization? ... The dawn shone, the crimson faded, and looking at the golden horizon, Klein made up his mind. Today, he would go to find Dunn Smith and become a clerical staff member of the Night Watch! "Didn't sleep?" At this moment, Melissa got up again, pushed the door open, and was surprised to see her brother stretching lazily without any image. "Thinking about some things." Klein smiled, feeling relaxed. Melissa thought for a moment and said: "When I encounter troubles, I list the bad and good aspects one by one. After listing them, I compare them and can get a 'hint' of what to do." "Good habit. I do the same." Klein smiled in response. Melissa's expression relaxed, and she didn't say anything more. She took the yellowed large sheet of paper and her toiletries and headed to the public washroom. After having breakfast and Melissa left, Klein didn't rush out. He had a good mood and took a nap because he knew that almost all taverns were closed in the morning. At two o'clock in the afternoon, he used a small brush and handkerchief to smooth out the wrinkles and dirt on his top hat, restoring it to its neatness. Then, he dressed in formal attire and went out as if going for an interview. Bessick Street was a bit far, and Klein was afraid of missing the Night Watch's "working hours", so he didn't walk there but waited at the intersection of Iron Cross Street for the public carriage to arrive. In the Kingdom of Loen, public carriages were divided into two types: trackless and track-based. The former was pulled by two horses and could seat about twenty people including the top of the carriage. It had a rough route but no specific stops, operating flexibly and stopping whenever called, unless it was full. The latter was operated by the Track Carriage Company. They first laid down a device similar to railway tracks on the main streets. The horses walked on the inside, and the wheels turned on them, making it easy and effortless. Therefore, it could pull a larger double-decker carriage and carry more passengers. The only problem was that the route and stops were fixed, and many places couldn't be reached, making it rather inflexible. After about ten minutes, the sound of wheels hitting the tracks grew closer, and a double-decker carriage stopped at the Iron Cross Street stop. "To Bessick Street," Klein said to the driver. "You have to go to Champagne Street first, but from there, it only takes about ten minutes to walk to Bessick Street," the driver explained the route. "Then go to Champagne Street," Klein nodded in agreement. "It's over four kilometers. Four pence," a fair-faced young man beside the driver held out his hand. He was the staff member responsible for collecting the fare. "Okay." Klein took out four copper pence from his pocket and handed them over. He got on the carriage and found that there weren't many passengers. Even on the first floor, there were still several empty seats. "I only have three pence left. I'll have to walk back..." Klein pressed his hat and sat steadily. Most of the men and women on this floor were sitting in formal attire, while some were in work clothes or leisurely reading newspapers. However, almost no one was talking, and it was quite quiet. Klein closed his eyes to rest and didn't pay attention to the comings and goings of the passengers around him. Stop after stop, he finally heard the words "Champagne Street". He got off the carriage, asked around, and soon arrived at Bessick Street, where he saw the tavern with the brown and yellow hunting dog sign. Klein stretched out his right hand and pushed hard. The heavy door slowly opened, and the noisy sounds and the hot, restless waves rushed in. Although it was still afternoon, there were already many customers in the tavern. Some were temporary workers looking for opportunities and waiting to be hired, while others were idle and numbing themselves with alcohol. The tavern was rather dim, with two large iron cages in the center. The lower third of them was buried in the ground without any gaps. People held wooden cups and gathered around them, sometimes loudly discussing, sometimes cursing and laughing. Klein curiously glanced at them and found that there were two dogs inside. One was black and white, similar to a Husky on Earth, and the other was completely black with shiny fur and a strong and fierce appearance. "Want to place a bet?" "Dog has won eight consecutive games!" A short man wearing a brown soft cap came over and pointed at the black dog. Betting? Klein was stunned at first, then realized: "Dog fighting?" When he was at Hoy University, those noble students and rich kids would always ask him with contempt and curiosity if he liked to participate in boxing and gambling in pubs. Besides boxing and card games, did the gambling activities also include cruel and bloody ones like cockfighting and dog fighting? The short man sneered: "Sir, we are civilized people. We don't do such disgraceful things." He then muttered in a low voice: "And last year, laws were passed to ban these things..." "Then what are you betting on?" Klein asked out of curiosity. "Who's a better 'hunter'." The short man had just finished speaking when there was a commotion in the field. He turned his head and looked, then excitedly waved his hand: "This round has started. You can't bet now. Wait for the next round." Klein listened and stood on his tiptoes, raising his head and looking intently. He saw two strong men each dragging a sack to the side of the iron cage, opening the "door", and dumping the contents inside. They were gray, disgusting animals! Klein looked closely and found that they were rats, dozens or even hundreds of them! Because the bottom of the iron cage was deep in the ground with no gaps, the rats scurried around but couldn't escape. At this moment, as the cage door closed, the chains of the two dogs were untied. "Woof!" The black dog pounced and killed a rat with one bite. The black and white dog was stunned at first, then excitedly started playing with the rats. The people around either held their cups and watched intently or shouted loudly: "Kill it! Bite it!" "Doug, Doug!" ... What the hell, a dog catching mice... Klein woke up with a twitching mouth. The gambling event here was actually betting on which dog caught more mice... Maybe you could even bet on the exact number... No wonder there were always people buying live mice on Iron Cross Street... It's really unique... Klein shook his head, smiling, and moved away, weaving around the crowded drinkers at the edge and approaching the bar counter. "New face?" The bartender looked up at him while wiping a glass. "Rye beer is 1 penny a glass, Enmat beer is 2 pennies, South Wales beer is 4 pennies, or would you like a glass of pure malt Longzi?" "I'm looking for Mr. Light." Klein said straightforwardly. The bartender whistled and called out to someone beside him, "Old man, someone's looking for you." "Who is it..." A muffled voice emerged, and an old drunkard stood up behind the bar counter. He rubbed his eyes and looked at Klein, "Young man, you're looking for me?" "Mr. Light, I want to hire a mercenary squad for a job." Klein replied as instructed by Dunn. "Mercenary squad? Are you living in a fairy tale? They don't exist anymore!" The bartender interjected with a laugh. Light was silent for a few seconds before saying, "Who told you to come here?" "Dunn, Dunn Smith." Klein answered truthfully. Light chuckled, "I see. Actually... Mercenary squads still exist, just in a different form and under a name more fitting for the current society. You can find one on the second floor of 36 Zotland Street." "Thank you." Klein thanked him sincerely and turned to leave the bar. Just as he was about to exit, the drinkers who had been gathered suddenly fell silent, only a murmur could be heard: "Doug actually lost..." "Lost..." Klein shook his head with a smile and quickly left, asking for directions to nearby Zotland Street. "30, 32, 34... Here." He counted the house numbers and entered the staircase. Turning the corner and climbing the steps, he saw the vertical sign and the current name of the so-called mercenary squad: "Blackthorn Security Company."
