Chapter 109: Temporarily Not Reporting
2025-01-19
Angel didn't arrive at the Black Thorn Security Company on Zotland Street until nearly noon the next day.
This was Dunn Smith's arrangement—the negative effects of the "Magic Pocket Watch" lasted a full twelve hours. The previous evening when she'd used it to save Klein and drive away the "Witch" Tris, the time had been approximately nine o'clock. The adverse effects would persist until after nine this morning.
Fortunately, "Assassins" possessed dark vision, so the inability to tolerate light didn't affect her nighttime activities.
After greeting Roxanne, Angel approached the door of Dunn's office.
Before she could knock, the Captain's voice came from within: "Come in."
Angel silently pushed open the door and stepped inside, casually closing it behind her.
The office was unlit with curtains drawn, plunging the room into pitch darkness once the door closed. Only thin strips of sunlight leaked around the curtain edges, casting faint patterns on the wall by the window.
Through her dark vision, Angel could see Dunn seated behind his desk—one hand supporting his chin, the other resting on the desktop, his deep-set eyes fixed intently on her.
This... couldn't be the Captain's attempt at acting the "Nightmare," could it? Rather peculiar indeed.
Angel silently critiqued the scene while finding a chair to sit down.
"Click, click."
Seeing Angel seated, Dunn withdrew a lighter from his pocket and pressed it several times.
A weak flame flickered to life in his hand.
His gaze crossed over the flame, looking at Angel with expectant eyes.
She stared back with a puzzled expression.
"Captain, is something wrong?"
Dunn appeared even more surprised than she was, remaining silent for a long moment before releasing the lighter and extinguishing the flame.
"Are you no longer afraid of flames?"
"Captain, the negative effects of the 'Magic Pocket Watch' only last twelve hours. And I don't think 'Nightmare' should behave like this..."
"Ah yes, I remember now—the photophobia should have ended two hours ago."
Dunn embarrassedly pocketed the lighter, stood up, and pulled open the curtains, allowing sunlight to flood the office.
"Ahem—let's discuss business." He settled back into his chair, assuming his usual comfortable office posture. "After Klein's divination failed last night, I sent Leonard to the police headquarters overnight to issue wanted notices. This morning we received intelligence that one of the women in the wanted notice—Tris—took the earliest steam train to Backlund, leaving Tingen City."
"Did you catch her?"
Angel asked urgently, but immediately caught the trace of regret crossing Dunn's face.
"Unfortunately not. Although Backlund authorities questioned passengers from the same train and someone confirmed seeing this beautiful woman, she was likely alert—or it was simply her usual caution—and disembarked midway."
"Worth noting is that her companion, the 'Pleasure Witch,' didn't board the steam train with her."
"You mean she's very likely still in Tingen?"
Dunn nodded. "Correct. When I reported this incident affecting all of Tingen to the Holy Temple last night, they sent the latest intelligence about the 'Witch Sect.' This Sequence 6 'Pleasure Witch' is very likely a replacement member sent to oversee Tingen City after Lady Sharon's departure."
"But there's no need for excessive worry. We destroyed their evil ritual and saved dozens of citizens' lives. Her existence has been exposed—she'll be wanted by all orthodox churches. As long as she acts again, attempting similar schemes, she'll be reported by the masses, noticed by police, and captured or eliminated by official Beyonders."
Another wanted notice...
Over the past month, Angel had learned of more than a handful of Beyonders placed on wanted lists. So far, except for the "Assassin" she'd accidentally encountered and killed in the dock area, none of the other wanted individuals had been apprehended—not even useful leads had been found.
Of course, if a Sequence 6 Beyonder was determined to escape, the chances of capture by official Beyonders were minimal. Angel was mentally prepared for this reality.
"Additionally, regarding your private... acquisition of that mystical item belonging to the Mechanical Heart..."
Seeing her remain silent, Dunn shifted to address another matter.
Here it comes...
Angel crossed her legs, adjusting her position while concealing her left hand at her side, away from Dunn's sight.
She quietly pressed the crown of the "Magic Pocket Watch"—just a little pressure would activate this mystical item, granting her the extraordinary ability of "Flame Jump."
This wasn't due to distrust of her captain. Yesterday, after the battle ended and they began inspecting the house containing the curse altar, Dunn had asked her to remain alone in the living room as lookout while all other Nighthawks entered the dining room where the altar was located.
She understood clearly that this was Dunn deliberately providing her space to "escape" if necessary—which at least demonstrated that Dunn wouldn't take drastic measures demanding she return the mystical item, or simply notify the Holy Temple to arrest her as a disciplinary violator.
Leonard likely understood and tacitly approved of this behavior as well. Klein... he'd just been injured and lost blood, was in poor condition, with no energy to consider these complications.
"According to relevant agreements between Nighthawks, Mechanical Heart, and Mandated Punishers, this extraordinary item stolen by Tomatz from the Mechanical Heart should be transferred to them along with him after his capture or elimination."
Dunn seemed oblivious to Angel's subtle movements, his expression serious as he spoke deliberately.
"Given that the 'Mechanical Heart' traitor Tomatz remains at large, until we catch or kill him, this pocket watch will be temporarily kept by you."
What? Angel was stunned.
Dunn's deliberately grave expression instantly transformed into a smile tinged with cunning.
"You should thank Leonard, thank Klein. They've been advocating for you since last night, and Klein came to see me early this morning."
He spoke with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, but then, feeling this was a serious topic, suppressed his amusement.
"In any case, I'll delay reporting this matter to the Holy Temple. Just to be safe, I'll first test the attitude above through my own channels. This should at least prevent the worst-case scenario."
The worst-case scenario—referring to the Tingen City Nighthawks team conspiring to conceal mystical items...
Angel suddenly felt deeply moved. Dunn making this decision would certainly bear enormous pressure. He could have feigned ignorance or reported truthfully, awaiting his superiors' decision. But now he was deliberately concealing it—if Angel ultimately "fell into the net," he would share responsibility.
"Moreover, the Church primarily focuses on mystical items with obvious side effects that easily cause casualties, cataloging and managing them as sealed artifacts..."
Dunn's tone shifted, and his smile became more pronounced.
"That pocket watch—it's called the 'Magic Pocket Watch,' correct? Its negative effects... shouldn't easily cause casualties or major supernatural incidents."
He seemed to recall Angel's condition after suffering the negative effects last night, finally unable to suppress his laughter, turning his head in a futile attempt to hide it.
Captain, please return my gratitude...
Angel felt her face burning with embarrassment.
Chapter 110: Banquet Preparations
2025-01-19
July 28th, Saturday.
Klein Moretti carefully groomed his black hair before the half-length mirror in the washroom.
He was already dressed in his newly purchased, freshly laundered black formal suit—shiny double-breasted buttons, a collar that could stand upright, and padded shoulders that made him appear taller.
Having combed his black hair into place, he retrieved his half-height silk top hat from the coat rack, dusted off imaginary specks, and positioned it properly.
He fastened the double-breasted buttons of his formal suit one by one, finally adjusting his bow tie, allowing only the collar of his white shirt beneath to show.
"Hmm, not bad. Black truly is a color that never goes out of style."
He flashed a smile at his reflection, checking left and right. After confirming everything was properly arranged, Klein left the washroom satisfied and descended to the first floor.
His brother, Benson Moretti, stood stiffly in the center of the living room, wearing a tailcoat, black vest, white shirt, and black bow tie with pressed trousers.
Seeing Klein descend, he approached with a helpless expression.
"Melissa insisted I dress like this. I..."
"Benson, this outfit suits you perfectly. Do you remember Selena's banquet two weeks ago? How naturally you mingled with those gentlemen and ladies?"
Benson touched his forehead—his hairline more advanced than his peers', causing his hand to meet empty air.
"Perhaps, but isn't this banquet only for your colleagues and teachers?"
He asked, puzzled.
"But you must grow accustomed to it, Benson. This concerns Klein's important matters, and... perhaps you'll encounter such situations in the future as well..."
Their sister Melissa Moretti's voice drifted from the staircase.
The two turned to see Melissa, also changed, descending from upstairs into the living room.
She wore a cream-colored long dress with lace decorations at the collar and bodice arranged in ruffled patterns. Apart from the currently fashionable leg-of-mutton sleeves, there were no other elaborate designs—suitable for daily wear.
Walking forward with light steps, Melissa sniffed and looked at Klein in surprise: "You actually applied cologne?"
"Really? I don't detect anything."
Benson also approached curiously, inhaled, and frowned.
"It's... a light fragrance," Klein explained, feeling his face flush slightly. He reached to loosen his bow tie but reconsidered—the carefully tied bow tie shouldn't be disturbed. His hand wavered twice before dropping to his side.
"Hmm, but you do look quite handsome—better than Benson."
"Facts prove that clothes make the man."
Benson teased from the sideline.
Then he frowned again, his gaze sweeping over Melissa, Klein, and himself in turn.
"Won't this seem overly formal?"
"It's merely a small banquet celebrating our move—could even be called a family dinner."
He muttered while his hands smoothed minor wrinkles from his tailcoat.
"Didn't I tell you yesterday?" Melissa kept signaling Benson with her eyes. "Klein invited colleagues—female colleagues."
She emphasized the final words.
"Ah—oh, I see!"
Benson appeared puzzled at first, then enlightened, deliberately drawing out his response.
"Ahem—"
Klein coughed, interrupting his siblings' teasing. Following the watch chain, he withdrew his pocket watch from his formal suit, opened the cover with a "snap," and glanced at it.
"The hired carriage I arranged should arrive shortly. Let's wait at the door."
Seeing the hands pointing to 6 PM, he addressed the pair.
The three siblings checked each other over, confirmed their attire was acceptable, then left 2 Narcissus Street and waited at the door briefly before boarding the hired carriage that arrived to collect them.
"Silver Crown Restaurant" was also located on Narcissus Street, at the opposite end from the Moretti house—not far at all. Benson had suggested the three could walk, but Melissa argued that attending a banquet in formal wear on foot would not only cause perspiration and dishevel their clothing, but also appear undignified. She insisted they take a carriage.
"Melissa, you weren't like this before..."
Though Klein had also decided on a carriage, seeing his sister—who had been so careful about household expenses just weeks ago—now unconcerned with such "small expenses" moved him considerably.
"This is for you."
Melissa fixed him with a look of disappointment, glaring pointedly.
"Perhaps Melissa is adapting to 'middle-class' life in advance. You know, they're all very—"
Benson teased from the side.
"Respectable!"
Klein and Melissa answered in unison. The three looked at each other and laughed, rediscovering the familiar feeling of mutual self-mockery and teasing.
Silver Crown Restaurant was a well-known establishment near Narcissus Street and Iron Cross Street. It offered moderate prices and featured local Ruen, Intis, Feysac, and other regional specialties. Although some felt their specialty dishes weren't authentic—all somehow tasting like local Ruen cuisine—most patrons cared more about the restaurant's class and service quality than flavor.
The hired carriage stopped smoothly before the two-story street-facing establishment. It was dinner rush hour, with many people coming and going at the restaurant entrance—quite lively indeed.
"We reserved a private room, correct?"
Melissa asked Klein with some concern.
He nodded: "No problem—reserved long ago."
He walked toward the restaurant's main entrance first. Two waiters stationed on either side of the door respectfully opened it for him.
"We have a reservation—Room 7, Klein Moretti."
The front desk checked their reservation book and quickly confirmed the Klein family's identity, leading them to Room 7 on the second floor.
The central chandelier illuminated the private room brightly. One person was already seated at the round table, absorbed in reading a book.
Hearing the door open and the sound of the three Moretti siblings entering, the middle-aged man looked up. His brown eyes calmly observed Klein, revealing a weariness that seemed inconsistent with his age.
"I didn't expect you to arrive so early, Mr. Azik. Thank you for honoring us with your presence at our modest banquet."
Klein removed his hat and bowed to the middle-aged man.
"This is Mr. Azik Eggers, a history faculty member at Hoy University. He has provided tremendous assistance with my studies and work."
"This is my brother, Benson Moretti, and my sister, Melissa."
He introduced both parties.
The bronze-skinned Hoy University history faculty member Azik Eggers, his top hat covering short black hair, returned a smile. His gaze swept over the three siblings but ultimately settled on Klein.
"You appear more like a gentleman than before. It seems that 'security company' position suits you well."
"Perhaps it's the effect of these new clothes."
Klein responded to Azik using Benson's earlier words.
"No, I can see that you've become more... hmm..." He glanced at Benson and Melissa behind Klein, "more skilled in that particular aspect."
Klein was startled, realizing Azik was referring to his complete digestion of the "Diviner" potion.
Mr. Azik can even perceive this?
Although Azik had previously acknowledged possessing certain special abilities, and Klein had once divined above the gray fog, confirming that Azik was an extremely powerful Beyonder, such capability still exceeded his imagination.
Klein, who was trying to formulate an excuse to inquire further, noticed Melissa beside him continuously signaling with her eyes, and realized he'd been standing at the door somewhat impolitely.
He quickly invited everyone to sit down, but strangely observed both Benson and Melissa taking seats on the opposite side, leaving the chairs on either side of him vacant.
"You two are..."
"This is Room 7. Mr. Moretti has arrived."
The waiter's voice from outside interrupted Klein's question.
Chapter 111: The Moretti Family Banquet
2025-01-19
"Thank you, I can manage on my own."
Hearing the familiar, cool voice from outside, Klein couldn't concern himself with Melissa's enigmatic smile and quickly straightened his double-breasted formal suit, checking his cuffs and bow tie.
Knock knock—
Light rapping sounds arose. Klein called out loudly: "Please come in."
The waiter in the private room opened the door, and Angel Granger entered slowly.
She wore a light white dress with minimal lace decorations at the collar and shoulders—no other overwhelming designs—harmoniously complementing her light golden hair bound behind her head with a headband.
Due to her height, Angel wore only flat shoes, but her uncommon stature for a woman still made Klein feel somewhat diminished. He sighed quietly and stood to greet her, performing a gentleman's bow.
"Thank you for attending the banquet. This is my honor."
Angel returned a smile, inclining her head slightly in greeting. She also appeared somewhat restrained, her movements slightly stiff.
"My apologies—the company had some last-minute matters. I'm running a bit late."
Klein noticed perspiration on her forehead—she'd obviously hurried here. Then his gaze dropped, discovering she wore the maple leaf-shaped amulet he'd given her around her neck, displayed prominently outside her dress, its silver surface reflecting the hanging lamp's light.
His somewhat dejected mood suddenly improved.
"This is my colleague at Black Thorn Security Company, Angel Granger. She has provided tremendous assistance with my work—I'm not exaggerating when I say she has saved me several times."
He knew his brother and sister wouldn't understand this as literally "saving his life multiple times."
Mr. Azik, seated at the round table, had flickering eyes. His gaze hadn't left Angel since her entrance. Had he discovered something?
Klein pondered secretly while continuing to introduce the others to Angel one by one.
After everyone arrived, a nearby waiter notified the kitchen, and the pre-ordered dishes were quickly brought to the table.
This meal's theme was Intis style but incorporated local Ruen characteristics, eliminating those traditional but tedious serving procedures. Roasted foie gras, red wine braised chicken, pan-seared cod, and cream soup were served in succession, portioned by waiters and delivered to each person.
Mr. Azik first raised his red wine and stood: "Let us toast together, congratulating Mr. Klein Moretti's family on their new home. This represents an important step in his life—hopefully just the first of many."
"Although there are more Morettis present than all other guests combined."
He joked.
Everyone raised their glasses, clinking them together at the table's center. Except for Melissa, who was underage and received only sweet iced tea, the others' glasses contained dark red wine that sparkled attractively under the lights.
After sipping the somewhat tart wine, Klein settled back down, regarding the feast before him with considerable appetite.
Yet he still controlled his hunger, maintaining elegant posture while slowly savoring the fragrant foie gras and golden pan-seared cod.
"Klein, is Miss Granger from the same company as you? Does she also perform your type of work?"
Azik inquired. He'd eaten only a small portion of braised chicken before setting down his utensils, his curious gaze directed toward the pair.
My type of work? Work involving finding, collecting, and protecting antiquities?
Klein didn't immediately comprehend, about to respond when he realized Azik knew his identity as a Beyonder—his inquiry probably carried deeper meaning.
He glanced at Melissa and Benson seated beside Azik, noticing they'd also paused their eating and looked over curiously.
"Hmm... that's correct. We joined the security company at nearly the same time. The company cooperates with police. Miss Granger handles some, er, fieldwork, while I primarily deal with finding clues and completing logistical tasks."
He could only explain vaguely.
Azik seemed to understand, nodding with some surprise evident in his brown eyes.
"Klein, this is inappropriate. A gentleman should undertake more challenging work. How can you remain in the office while allowing a lady to handle external duties?"
Benson spoke seriously, with Melissa nodding agreement beside him.
I want to help too, but some matters truly can't be helped...
Klein opened his mouth but didn't know how to refute. He recalled a few days ago during the operation tracking the curse altar—when the invisible "Witch" Tris had stabbed him in the chest and he'd lain helplessly on the ground awaiting death—he couldn't help but glance at Angel beside him.
"Professional people handle professional tasks. Klein is a distinguished graduate from Hoy University's history department. He possesses considerable expertise in locating antiquities—an area where I can't provide much assistance."
Angel elegantly dabbed her mouth with a napkin, smiling as she explained for Klein.
"Moreover, his work ability has been recognized by all company members. Just this week he became an official member with doubled weekly wages."
Wait, I haven't told them yet...
Klein had been somewhat embarrassed by Angel's generous praise, but suddenly remembered he hadn't informed his family about the increased wages—too late to stop her now.
Sure enough, Melissa immediately fixed him with a suspicious look.
But she recognized this wasn't the appropriate occasion for such inquiries, so her gaze lingered briefly before returning to Angel.
"Brother has been diligent and studious since childhood. After graduating from Hoy University, he originally planned to apply for a lecturer position at Tingen University's history department. Of course, his current position suits him well too."
"I can attest to this. His mentor, Mr. Cohen, is a senior associate professor in Hoy University's history department who was extremely satisfied with his academic performance. After graduation, he provided recommendation letters for both Tingen University and Backlund University."
Azik also spoke with a smile, then lifted his wine glass for a sip.
"I've witnessed firsthand his knowledge and work ethic."
Angel agreed, the corners of her pursed lips still revealing traces of a smile.
What's wrong with all of you? Not just Benson and Melissa, but why is Mr. Azik also praising me? Aren't recommendation letters standard for every graduate...
Klein felt his face heating up. He lowered his head, forcefully scooped up a spoonful of stewed potatoes, and placed it in his mouth.
As plates continued being served and cleared, the banquet neared its conclusion. Waiters brought portions of ice cream drizzled with strawberry sauce, and conversation at the table became increasingly animated.
Mr. Azik described his summer vacation plans—he intended to holiday in the northern Feysac Empire, where the Antares Mountains remained snow-covered year-round, providing excellent summer refuge.
He considered skiing and seal fishing suitable vacation activities, rather than Dixie Bay typically chosen by other lecturers, because his naturally bronze complexion would become even darker on summer beaches.
Benson and Melissa alternately shared embarrassing stories from Klein's youth, yet somehow managed to frame these incidents as positive character traits—bravery, trustworthiness—nearly making Klein question his own memories and wonder if they were discussing some neighbor's child with the same name.
Angel had eaten very little throughout the evening, not even touching the ice cream before her. She smiled while listening to the "embarrassing stories," occasionally contributing comments, appearing restrained and polite.
"Angel, the dessert ice cream here is a specialty. Would you care to try some?"
While Benson and Azik discussed his company's internal assessment of the "Corn Law," Klein leaned over and asked quietly.
"I apologize—I don't particularly care for sweets. Some hot soup would be preferable."
She politely declined Klein's kind offer.
Hmm, I recall you finishing all the blueberry ice cream at last week's Nighthawk gathering. I specifically ordered dessert ice cream this time...
Klein felt somewhat puzzled, again questioning his memory.
"Ahem, Miss Granger, my cream mushroom soup is untouched and still warm."
Melissa brought over her own soup, placing it before Angel while glancing at Klein with dissatisfaction, then claimed the strawberry ice cream.
"I'll take this then."
"Thank you..."
Angel quietly thanked Melissa, leaving Klein bewildered on the sidelines.