The Lord Of Mysteries
Chapter 16: Rat Bait With Dogs

Phew, I finally made it through the rounds with the media …

Klein let out a foul breath. He slowly turned around and enjoyed the cool breeze and the calmness of the night while walking closer and closer to the door of the apartment building.

He took out his key, inserted the correct one and turned it gently, letting the red mixed darkness expand with the creaking sound of the door opening.

Walking on the stairs with no one in sight and breathing in the cold air, Klein had an inexplicable and overwhelming feeling. It felt like he had a few more hours than the others. This caused him to speed up his pace.

In the same state of mind, he opened the door of his room and even before he stepped in, he saw a silhouette sitting quietly in front of his desk. It had reddish black hair, bright brown eyes, and a gentle beautiful face. No doubt, she is Melissa Moretti!

"Klin, where are you going?" Melissa asked curiously while loosening her eyebrows.

Without waiting for Klein's reply, he added, "Just now, I woke up to go to the bathroom and realized that you weren't home." It was as if he wanted to know everything clearly, from the cause and effect of this matter to the underlying logic.

With the incredible experience of lying to his parents, Klein's brain spun before he smiled bitterly and calmly replied, "i can't sleep anymore after I wake up. Rather than waste time, I decided to train my body. . So I went out to run a few rounds. Look at my sweat!"

He took off his jacket and half turned his body, pointing to his back.

Melissa stood up, glanced half-heartedly and deliberated for a while before saying, "Honestly, Klein, you don't need to stress yourself out. I'm sure you can pass the interview to Tingen University. Even if you can't, uh—I mean if—you can still find better."

I hadn't even thought about the interview yet. Klein nodded his head and said, "I understand."

He did not mention the "offers" he got because he had not yet decided whether he wanted to join them or not.

Staring at Klein intensely, Melissa suddenly turned around and ran to the inside of the house. He pulled out an object that resembled a turtle. It consisted of items such as gears, rusted iron, torsion springs, and ordinary springs.

After tightening the torsion spring quickly, Melissa placed the thing on the table.

Ka's! Ka's! Ka's!

You idiot! You idiot! You idiot!

The "tortoise" moved and jumped with a rhythm that could catch anyone's attention.

"Every time I get upset, I feel much better looking at this turtle move. I have been doing this very often recently and it is very effective! Klein, try!" inviting Melissa as her eyes shine.

Klein did not reject his sister's good intentions. He approached the "tortoise" and waited for her to stop before laughing. He said, "Simplicity and regularity can indeed help with relaxation."

Without waiting for Melissa to answer, Klein pointed to the "tortoise" and casually asked, "Did you make it yourself? When did you make it? Why didn't I realize it?"

"i used unwanted materials from the school and items taken from the streets to make this. It was only finished two days ago," Melissa said in a casual tone, the side of her lips raised a few more degrees.

"That's impressive," Klein praised sincerely.

As a boy with poor skills in machine assembly, he had great difficulty even assembling a four-wheeled toy car as a child.

With her chin slightly raised and her eyes slightly bent, Melissa calmly replied, "It's okay."

"Being too humble is a bad trait" Klein smiled slightly and continued, "It's a turtle, right?"

Instantly, the atmosphere in the room changed drastically, leaving a serious atmosphere for a while. Then, Melissa faintly replied in an enigmatic-looking voice like a dark red veil, "That's a doll."

Puppets…

Klein smiled awkwardly, and tried to explain forcefully, "The problem lies in the material, they are too simple."

After which, he tried to change the subject and said, "Why did you go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? Is there no toilet here? Don't you always sleep until dawn?"

Melissa was surprised for a moment.

Only after a few seconds, before he opened his mouth, prepared to explain.

At that moment, an intense digestive sound rang out from his thoracoabdominal 1 area.

"I'm going to sleep again!"

Bang out! He grabbed his "doll" turtle, ran to the inside of the house, and closed the door of his room.

Dinner yesterday was too good, he ate too much and now his stomach has trouble digesting it. Klein shook his head with a smile, slowly walking towards his desk. He sat silently, silently pondering over Dunn Smith's invitation as a red red moon emerged from behind the dark clouds.

Being a member of Nighthawk's civilian staff had an obvious disadvantage.

With me as transmigration, "The Fool"—the initiator of the mysterious Meeting—and many secrets I have, he said, it would be risky to be under the noses of the Church of the Goddess Overnight team that specializes in dealing with matters concerning Beyonders .

As long as I join Dunn Smith and his team, I will definitely aim to become a Beyonder.I can then cover up the benefits gained from the Gathering.

However, becoming an official member would require many restrictions on my freedom, such as how a civilian staff should report his departure from Tingen. I can no longer go wherever I want or do whatever I want. I will miss many opportunities.

Nighthawks are a tight organization. After the mission is given, I can only wait for the arrangements and receive the order. There is no room for rejection.

Beyonders have a risk of losing control.

…

After all the losses were mentioned one by one, Klein turned to consider the needs and advantages:

Judging from the situation of the luck-enhancing ritual, I am not one of the eighty percent of lucky people. In the future, there must be some strange events happening to me, increasing the danger I am facing.

Only by becoming one of the Beyonders or by joining the Nighthawks can I be equipped with the ability to fight back.

The desire to become a Beyonder cannot just depend on the Gathering. The formula of the potion is not a big deal, but where can I find the appropriate ingredients? How do I get it and tamp it?

Not forgetting the many daily exercises, I was faced with a serious obstacle! It is impossible for me to consult Justice and The Hanged Man on every issue and exchange every object with them. This would not only damage the image of The Fool and arouse their suspicions, but there would also be inadequate time to communicate about such trivial matters.

Similarly, I cannot produce anything that can interest them.

Moreover, more materials would more often leave behind a trace of my true identity. Then, the "online dispute" will be effectively converted into an "offline conflict", which brings about major problems.

By joining the Nighthawks, there will definitely be contact with general knowledge of the mystery world and relevant channels. It can simply accumulate into appropriate social circles and can be used as a lever. Only then can I start the Gathering and in turn get the greatest benefit from Justice and The Hanged Man. In reality, the gains can be feedback into reality, allowing me to get more resources and form a good cycle.

Of course, I could also go to organizations that were oppressed by various Churches like the Psychological Alchemist that Dunn mentioned and join them.

But I will also lose my freedom, and constantly be in fear and anxiety. But more importantly, I don't know where to look. Even if I managed to obtain the appropriate information from The Hanged Man, such rash contact with them could endanger my life.

Being a civilian staff leaves opportunities to buffer and get out.

The inferior hermit hides in the wild; superior, the crowd. Perhaps identity as a Nighthawk could be a better cover.

In the future, when I become one of the highest authorities of the court, who would imagine that I was a heretic, the head of a secret organization working behind the scenes?

…

When the first rays of the morning sun shone, the deep red color disappeared. Gazing at the golden light on the horizon of the sky, Klein made up his mind.

He'll find Dunn Smith today and be part of Nighthawk's civilian staff!

At this moment, Melissa, who was getting out of bed again, had pushed open the door of the room. She was surprised to see her brother stretching his body in such an unattractive way. "You're not sleeping?"

"I'm thinking about a few things." Klein smiled, feeling relaxed.

Melissa thought for a moment and said, "Every time I encounter a problem, I will list the pros and cons one by one and compare them. After that, I'll be able to get a clue as to what I should do next."

"That's a good habit. I did too," Klein smiled and replied.

Melissa's face was relaxed, and she didn't add more. Holding a yellowish sheet of paper and his toiletries, he headed to the bathroom.

In no hurry to leave after she finished breakfast and the departure of her sister, Klein took a good nap. Based on what he knew, almost all pubs were closed in the morning.

At two in the afternoon, he tidied up the folds of his silk hat and handkerchief with a small brush. He also removes dirt to rebuild neatness.

Afterwards, she wore a formal dress suit, like she was about to go for an interview.

Besik's path was a bit far, and Klein was afraid he would miss Nighthawk's "working hours. Therefore, he did not walk there, but waited for a common horse carriage on Iron Cross Street.

The first consists of a carriage pulled by two horses and can accommodate about 20 people while taking into account the top of the carriage. There are only general routes, without special stations. It has a flexible operation and can be called anywhere except full.

It is operated by Orbital Carriage Company. First, service devices such as rails are laid out on the main road. The horses will move in deep lanes while the wheels run on rails, making them easier and more power efficient. It can pull a larger two-story train that accommodates nearly fifty passengers.

However, the only problem was that the routes and stations were fixed, making many places inaccessible.

After ten minutes, the sound of a wheel hitting the rails approached from a distance. A horse-drawn carriage stopped in front of the station on Iron Cross Street.

"To Besik Street" Klein told the driver of the train.

“Must move on Champagne Street but once there, it takes about ten minutes walk to Besik Street,” explained the train driver to Klein regarding his route.

"Let's go to Champagne Street then." Klein nodded in agreement.

"More than four kilometers, four pence" said a young man with a pure white face as he extended his hand.

He was a worker responsible for the collection of money.

"okay." Klein took out four copper coins from his pocket and handed them to the other party.

He walked into the carriage and found that there were not many passengers. Even on the first floor, there were some empty seats.

"I only have three cents now, so I can only walk when I come back .." Klein pressed down on his hat and sat down firmly.

On this floor, men and women were mostly dressed neatly even though there were some who wore their work clothes, reading the newspaper casually. Hardly anyone spoke, and it was quiet enough.

Klein closed his eyes and replenished his strength, unaware of the coming and going of the passengers around him.

Station after station passed until he finally heard a few words "Champagne Road".

After getting off the horse-drawn carriage, he asked along the way and soon arrived at Besik Street, where he saw a pub with a brownish-yellow dog logo.

Klein stretched out his right hand and gave a strong push. The heavy door slowly opened, flooding it with a rowdy sound wave and a hurried heat wave.

Although it was still late afternoon, there were already many customers in the pub. Some are temporary workers, looking for opportunities here, waiting to be hired. Others just laze around, making themselves numb with alcohol.

The pub is dim. In the middle, there were two large iron cages with the bottom third sinking deep into the ground without any gaps.

People held wooden wine glasses and surrounded them, sometimes discussing loudly while laughing, sometimes cursing loudly.

Giving a curious look, Klein found two dogs locked up inside. One of them is black and white, similar to the huskies found on Earth. The other was entirely black, with shiny fur, making him look healthy and fierce.

"Do you want to bet? Doug has won eight games in a row!" said a small man wearing a brown beret, as he approached Klein and pointed at the black dog.

Bet on? Startled at first, Klein regained his senses.

"Dog fight?"

When he was at Khoy University, those noble and wealthy students would always ask him in a contemptuous and curious tone, she said, whether the rude and unemployed workers like to participate in boxing and gambling in the pub.

Besides being able to gamble boxing and card games, doesn't it also include vile and bloody activities such as cockfighting, dogfighting, and others?

The short man smirked. "Master, we're civilized people. We don't engage in such uninteresting activities."

After saying that, he whispered, "In addition, laws were introduced to ban these things last year …"

"Then what are you betting on?" klein asked curiously.

"Better hunter." Just as the short man finished his sentence, a frenzy sounded.

He turned his head, waved his hand vigorously, and said, "You can't place a bet for this round because it's already started, wait for the next one."

After hearing that, Klein moved his toes, raised his head, and looked as far as he could.

He saw two strong men each dragging a sack, coming to the side of the iron cage and opening the "prison door." They threw the sack into the cage.

There are gray and disgusting beasts!

Klein tried to identify them carefully before realizing that they were rats. Hundred rats!

Because the iron cage was deep underground with no gaps, the mice moved in all directions but could not find a way out.

Just then, just as the door of the cage was closed, the chains of the two dogs came loose.

"Feed!" The black dog pounced forward and killed a mouse in one bite.

The black-and-white dog was dazed at first before it started to play excitedly with the rats.

The surrounding people raised their wine cups and intensified their gazes or shouted loudly, "Gigit! Kill it!"

"Doug, Doug!"

Motherf**king rat-baiting with dogs 2. Klein regained consciousness and the corner of his mouth twitched incessantly.

The purpose of this bet is to determine which dog can catch more rats…

Perhaps, one can even bet on a certain number of rats caught…

It's only fair to have people buying live mice on Iron Cross Street…

So unique…

Klein shook his head, laughed as he retreated, and spun along the edge of the alcohol customer, and reached the front of the bar.

"New here?" said the bartender while glancing at Klein while wiping the cup. He continued, "One cup of rye beer is a penny. Enmat beer, it costs two pence. Four pence for a Southville beer, or do you want a cup of pure malt made by Lanti?"

"i came here for Mr. Wright," Klein said directly and frankly.

The bartender whistled and yelled to the side, "Old Sister, someone is looking for you."

"Oh, who ..." A faint voice rang out, and a drunk old man stood up from behind the bar.

He rubbed his eyes, turned his gaze to Klein and asked, "Son, are you looking for me?"

"Mr Wright, I want to hire a small mercenary force for a mission" Klein replied, according to Dunn's instructions.

"Little mercenary squad? Do you live in an adventure story? It hasn't been around for a long time!" the bartender interrupted and smiled.

Wright was silent for a few seconds before saying, "Who told you to look for him here?"

"Dunn. Dunn Smith," Klein answered truthfully.

Instantly, Wright laughed out loud and replied, "That's it. Actually, a small mercenary army still exists. Just in another form, with a more contemporary name, you can find it on the second floor of No Zouteland Street. 36 ."

"Thank you," thanked Klein sincerely before he turned around and walked out of the pub.

Before he exited the pub, the alcoholic patrons surrounding him suddenly calmed down, as they muttered, "Doug is completely defeated …"

"Beating…"

Klein smiled and shook his head. Then he left quickly and found his way to the nearby Zoeterland Road after wondering.

"30, 32, 34. Here," he counted the house numbers and walked up the stairs.

Turning around the corner and slowly climbing the stairs, he saw a vertical mark with the current name of the so-called small mercenary army.

"Blackthorn Security Company."

Notes, this is not the author's invention, but a legal blood sport known as rat bait in the Victorian era.