The Lord Of Mysteries
Chapter 26: Training

Knock it! Knock it! Knock it! The sound of footsteps echoed through the dark and narrow corridor, which was previously silent.

Klein kept his back straight as he followed the priest's footsteps. He did not ask any questions or chat casually with her, remaining silent like a windless body of water.

After passing through the heavily guarded passage, the priest opened the secret door with a key and pointed down the stone staircase. "Turn left at the intersection to reach Chanis Gate."

"May the Goddess bless you." Klein pointed at the red moon mark on his chest.

Commoners practiced manners, whereas religious took part in blessing rituals.

"Praise Madam." The pastor returned with the same gesture.

Klein did not speak any further as he walked down the dark stone steps with the help of finely inlaid gas lamps on both sides of the wall.

In the middle of the road, he subconsciously turned around and saw the priest standing at the entrance. He was in the shadows and appeared like a motionless wax statue.

Klein threw away his face and continued walking downstairs. It didn't take long before he touched the ground covered in ice-cold stone slabs. This leads him to the intersection.

He did not turn his head to Chanis Gate because Dunn Smith, who had just finished his shift, was definitely not there.

He turned to the right and looked at the familiar path. Klein again climbed another ladder and appeared inside the Blackthorn Security Company.

Looking at the tightly shut or half-closed door, he was in no hurry to enter it. Instead, she went to the reception and saw a brunette girl focusing on the magazine with a sweet smile.

"Hi, Rozan." Klein came to his side and deliberately knocked on the table.

Knock it! Rozanne suddenly stood up and dropped the chair and said confusedly, "Hi, good weather today. Y-you, Klein, why are you here?"

He patted his chest and breathed a sigh of relief. She was like a young woman who was afraid that her father might catch her skiing.

"I have to find the Captain" Klein replied simply.

"…You scared me. I thought the Captain was out." Rozanne glared at Klein. "Do you not know how to knock!? Hmph, you should be grateful that I am a tolerant and kind woman. Well, I prefer the term woman ... Is there a reason why you are looking for Captain? He's in the room across from Mrs. Orianne."

Although he was feeling tense, Klein was so comforted by Rozanne that he smiled. He pondered for a moment before saying, "Secret."

"…" Rozanne's eyes widened and while she was shaken by her disbelief, Klein bowed slightly before saying goodbye.

He passed the receptionist partition and knocked on the first office door on the right.

"Lake in." Dunn Smith's deep, soft voice sounded.

Klein pushed the door and opened it before closing the door behind him. He took off his hat and bowed. "Good morning, Captain."

"Good Morning can I help you?" Dunn's black jacket and hat hung on the clothes rack beside her. He was wearing a white shirt and a black vest. Although her hairline was a bit high, her gray eyes were deep, and she looked much fresher.

"Someone followed me." Klein answered honestly without any decoration.

Dunn leaned back and clenched her hands together. His deep gray eyes silently looked at Klein's eyes. He did not follow up on the topic that followed and instead, asked, "You came from the cathedral?"

"Yes." Yeah." Klein answered.

Dunn nodded slowly. He did not comment on his strengths or weaknesses as he shifted the subject. "Maybe Welch's father doesn't believe the cause of death we reported and has hired a private detective from Wind City to investigate the matter."

The City of Midseashire is also known as the City of Wind. It was a region with a highly developed coal and steel industry. It was one of the top three cities of the Loen Kingdom.

Before waiting for Klein to give his opinion, Dunn continued, "Maybe it was also because of the notebook. Heh, we happened to be investigating where Welch received the Antigonus family notebook. Of course, we can't eliminate other people or organizations who might be looking for this notebook."

"What should I do?" Klein asked in a serious voice.

Without question, he hoped that was the first reason.

Dunn did not answer immediately. He lifted his coffee cup and took a sip, his eyes not showing a piece of ripple. "Go back like you came, and do whatever you want."

"Anything?" Klein came back with a question.

"Anything." Dunn nodded with certainty. "Of course, don't scare them or break the law."

"Good." Klein took a deep breath and said goodbye to her. He left the room and went back underground.

He turned left at the intersection, and bathed in the light from the gas lamps on both walls, he arrived soundlessly into an empty, dark, and cold passageway.

The sound of her footsteps resounded, making her sound even more alone and frightened.

Soon, Klein arrived at the stairs. He advanced and saw a shadow standing there—the middle-aged priest.

The two did not say a word when they met. The priest turned around in silence and gave way.

He continued silently before returning to the prayer hall. The circular holes behind the curved altar were still pure and bright, while the darkness and silence of the interior of the building remained. There were still men and women lined up outside the confessional room, but far fewer than before.

After waiting for a while, Klein slowly left the prayer hall with his staff and newspaper as if nothing had ever happened, successfully leaving Saint Selena Cathedral.

As he walked out, he saw the burning sun. He immediately regained the familiar feeling he observed. He felt like he was being preyed upon by an eagle.

Suddenly, a question came to his mind.

In that case, the chances of becoming a private detective were very small. Klein sighed and no longer acted as nervous as before. He took a leisurely stroll before walking around and behind Zouteland Road.

He stopped at an ancient-style building with mottled walls. The address on the door is '3.' His name is the Zouteland Shooting Club.

Parts of the police department's underground firing range were opened to the public as a way to secure additional funding.

Klein entered and the feeling of being watched disappeared instantly. He took this opportunity to hand over his Special Operations Department badge to the officer.

After a brief verification, he was taken underground to a small, restricted firing range.

"Target ten meters." Klein told the officer simply. Next, he retrieved the revolver from his scabbard and a brass bullet box from his pocket.

The sudden feeling of being targeted made his desire to protect himself prevail over his procrastination. Therefore, he couldn't wait to come to practice shooting.

Pa! After the officer left, he opened the cylinder and took out a silver demon hunting bullet. After which, he filled the cylinder with ordinary brass bullets.

This time, he also did not leave an empty place to prevent a misfiring, nor did he take off his formal attire and his hat that split in half. He planned to train with his usual style. After all, it was impossible for him to shout "wait a moment, let me turn into something more comfortable" after encountering an enemy or danger.

Click! Klein closed the cylinder and rolled it with his thumb.

Suddenly, he held a gun in both hands, raised it straight, and aimed at a target that was over ten meters away.

However, he was in no hurry to shoot. Instead, he recalled his experience in military training 1, how to form a line with iron-sights, and knowledge of recoil weapons.

Swish! Swish! While his clothes rippled, Klein repeated the aiming and holding position. He was as serious as a student taking a high school exam.

After repeating it a few times, he retreated to the wall and sat down on a long, padded bench. He put his gun to the side, started massaging his arms, and rested for quite a while.

He spent a few minutes recalling his training before he picked up the revolver with a wooden handle and a bronze cylinder. He got into a standard shooting position and pulled the trigger.

Bang out! His arms trembled as his body moved backwards from backwards. The bullet missed the target.

Bang out! Bang out! Bang out! Drawing from the experience he gained, he shot again and again until the six rounds were completed.

I started hitting the target. Klein stepped back and sat down again with a sigh.

Click! He swung the cylinder out and let the six shells fall to the ground. Then, without a change in expression, he inserted the remaining brass bullet.

After loosening his arms, Klein stood up again and returned to his shooting position.

Bang out! Bang out! Bang out! Shots rang out echoing as the target shook. Klein practiced and rested repeatedly. He spent all thirty rounds normally and the remaining five from before. He gradually reached the target and started aiming for the bull's eye.

He swung his aching shoulder and threw out the last five bullets. He lowered his head and stuffed the demon hunter's bullet with an elaborate pattern back into the gun, leaving an empty spot to prevent a misfiring.

After putting the revolver back into his scabbard, Klein patted the dust off his body and walked out of the firing range to return to the streets.

The feeling of being noticed appeared once again. Klein felt calmer than he had felt before as he slowly walked to Champagne Street. He spent four cents on the tracked train to return to Iron Cross Street before returning to his own apartment.

The feeling of being spied on disappeared without a trace. Klein took out his key and opened the door to see a short-haired man approaching his thirties and wearing a linen shirt sitting at the table.

His heart stiffened before immediately relaxing. Klein greeted with a smile, "Good morning—not—good afternoon, Benson."

This man was none other than Klein and Melissa's older brother, Benson Moretti. She was only twenty-five this year, but her thinning hairline and decrepit appearance made her look almost thirty years old.

She had black hair and brown eyes, somewhat similar to Klein, but she did not have the faint scientific aura that Klein possessed.

"Good day, Klein. How's interview?" Benson stood up while grinning.

His black coat and halved hat hung on the bulge of their bed.

"It's terrible" Klein replied flatly.

When he saw Benson stunned, Klein chuckled and added, "In fact, I didn't even participate in the interview. I found a job before the interview and his salary was three pounds a week …"

He repeated what he said to Melissa again.

Benson's expression calmed down as he shook his head while laughing. "It feels like watching a child grow up .. Well, this job is pretty good." He sighed and said, "It's really nice that the first thing I heard was good news after going to work. Let's celebrate tonight and buy some beef?"

Klein smiled. "Sure, but I'm sure Melissa will feel pinched. Let's buy the ingredients later in the afternoon? Let's bring at least three soli? Well, to be honest, one pound was exchanged for twenty soli, and one soli was exchanged for twelve pence. There are even denominations like halfpence and quarterpence. Such a coin system is contrary to logic. It's very troublesome.I think it's definitely one of the dumbest coin systems in the world."

When he said that, he saw Benson's expression change firmly. Feeling a little uncomfortable, he wondered if he had said something wrong.

Could it be that in the missing memory fragment of the original Klein, Benson was an extreme nationalist who showed no tolerance for anything negative? Benson took a few steps and denied it with a stern expression. "No, this is not one of them, but the most stupid coin system."

Not one of them! Klein was surprised, but he quickly regained his senses. He looked into his brother's eyes and laughed.

Indeed, Benson is great at mocking humor.

Benson lifted the corner of his lips and said seriously, "You must understand that in order to create a reasonable and simple coin system, one needs to know how to calculate and understand the decimal system. Unfortunately, there were too few talents among them that mattered. numbers."

This did not mean Zhou Mingrui was a soldier. Students in China are required to attend short military assignments during their school days for short periods.