Chapter 325: The Equestrian Teacher’s Problem

Translator: Atlas Studios  Editor: Atlas Studios

When he returned to the living room, Klein picked up a letter opener and opened the envelope before taking out Isengard Stanton’s letter.

The famous detective wrote:

“Your idea has greatly helped us. Please allow me to thank you here first.

“After receiving your letter, we immediately organized some people to sweep through crucial areas. As expected, we found some clues, and quite a few stray animals that had frequently appeared and were remembered by the residents had disappeared.

“In the process, we also noticed an interesting thing. Four years ago, in the serial murder case, yes—the targets were single prostitutes with a child. Quite a few people living near the scene of the crime had mentioned that although the most suspicious teenager was eccentric and vicious, he was quite fond of animals, especially a large black dog.

“After the boy died in the gang firefight, the people who lived around him never saw the dog again.

“I’m curious. Who is its current owner? Was it the murderer of some unsolved serial murder case from even further back?

“The above facts have all been proven to be true at the scene of the 12th murder case, and it has played a key role in giving the police a preliminary idea of the suspect. If all goes well, and the culprit is arrested, we will be able to get the majority of the reward money.

“My friend, I clearly remember your contribution. I will not forget your share.”

…

Isengard Stanton seems to suspect that I knew the truth about the Devil, so he had deliberately hinted at something? Klein put down the letter and mumbled silently.

However, this letter also made him feel relieved.

The official Beyonders weren’t looking for the wrong person!

If the gigantic Devil dog didn’t get receive any additional help, then it was only a matter of time before it was caught and killed.

As for Isengard Stanton’s prediction that there was another master, Klein didn’t have enough evidence to confirm the matter, so it could only be said that there was a certain probability.

In short, my mission ends here. The job is now left to the Nighthawks, Mandated Punishers, and Machinery Hivemind squads. Klein pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, picked up a fountain pen, and replied Isengard Stanton with a letter filled with humility. He also ignored his subtle hints like a real, ordinary private detective.

After cutting another paper figurine and sending the letter, Klein strolled to the public carriage stop to wait. He thought in a relaxed manner, The next thing to do is wait for the money…

Leppard said he would be visiting the Roselle Memorial Exhibition for three days straight. I’ll have to wait until Saturday before visiting to find him and make the final payment. Hopefully, the patent for the bicycle will be filed by then. Sigh, the Backlund Patent Office seems to be known for its inefficiency.

Klein had already made plans for the day. Since there was no Beyonder gathering, resulting in him being unable to buy the appropriate items, he suddenly had a lot of free time. He didn’t need to busy himself for a short period of time.

In the morning, I’ll go to the Quelaag Club, practice my marksmanship, practice my Beyonder powers, have lunch there, and then find a better circus to observe the magician’s performance and see if I can get some inspiration. He took out his golden pocket watch and looked at it. He boarded the public carriage in a good mood.

…

Hillston Borough, Quelaag Club.

Since Klein came by at least twice a week, the attendants remembered him and didn’t require him to show his proof of membership or his Frost constellation badge.

It was Wednesday morning, and since most of the Quelaag Club’s members belonged to the middle-class, where they still had fixed and decent jobs, it was difficult for them to visit the club unless it was Sunday, tea time, or when they took time off from work.

The spacious and bright hall seemed abnormally empty. There were only a few people sitting in the corner where the coffee tables and sofas were.

Glancing around, Klein spotted an acquaintance and went up to greet him, “Talim, with such terrific weather today, you should be at the turf club.”

The acquaintance was Talim, the aristocratic equestrian teacher who had introduced him to the club at the request of Mrs. Mary Dumont. He had once brought Klein business—the protection of Daily Observer reporter Mike Joseph on his trip to the Golden Rose for investigations.

Talim looked up, touched his short brown curls, and smiled.

“Oh my, it’s the honorable great detective. What have you been up to? I haven’t seen you in a long time. ”

That’s because you haven’t been to the club for days… Klein smiled as he sat on the sofa next to Talim.

“I’ve been helping the police with the serial murder case. Although it might not necessarily yield any results, the reward is tempting enough. Besides, establishing good relations with the police is very important for us private investigators.”

What I just said was bragging. I’m just an unremarkable character who’d been summoned… he mocked himself inwardly.

Among the few members sitting in the same sofa area behind them, a man who appeared to be a stockbroker initiated a discussion on the latest Western Railway shares and East Balam Plantation shares.

Talim didn’t doubt Klein’s answer. He chuckled and said, “This is indeed something that will busy a great detective.”

After exchanging a few pleasantries, he gradually entered a pensive state.

Just as Klein was about to bid him farewell and leave for the underground shooting range, Talim suddenly looked at him and said, “Mr. Moriarty, may I ask you a question?

“Uh, you can charge me a consultation fee.”

“This one is free. Also, just call me Sherlock.” Klein laughed.

Talim nodded gently and said hesitantly, “I have a friend who has fallen in love with someone he shouldn’t have. How should he deal with such a situation?”

Although I had always believed that anyone who asks a question prefaced with “I have a friend” basically means “I myself,” Talim’s emotional colors implies that it’s not for himself. He’s in a dilemma, but I can’t see any traces of pain… After activating his Spirit Vision, Klein leaned back slightly, clasped his hands, and said, “I’m sorry, but I’m not a psychiatrist or any of the experts in the newspapers or magazines who are good at solving emotional problems.

“My only advice is not to break the law.

“Heh heh, that was a joke. First, we need to understand how this ‘shouldn’t have’ arose. Is there a feud between the family?”

Talim glanced at him and said in resignation, “No, this isn’t Romeo and Juliet!”

Upon hearing Talim’s reply, Klein seemed to hear an illusory murmur in his ears.

Author: Roselle Gustav… Author: Roselle Gustav… Author: Roselle Gustav…

Shaking his head, he apologized to Shakespeare and smiled.

“This piece of work by Emperor Roselle is just too classic. When it comes to love that shouldn’t be, I can’t help but think of it.

“Then why shouldn’t they be together?”

Talim fell silent for a few seconds before saying, “I have to keep it confidential. I’m sorry, just pretend I didn’t ask.”

Confidential? That must be someone with certain standing… In love with someone of the same sex? In love with someone who is related by blood? Klein held back his curiosity and said with his hands spread out, “Then I can only give you one more suggestion. Read best-sellers about passionate love like Stormwind Mountain Villa and Love and Jealousy.”

Talim quivered his lips a few times, sighed, and said, “Sigh, that can only be used as the last resort. In my opinion, the feelings present in those best-selling novels simply don’t seem to occur among normal people.”

“I think so too!” Klein echoed in full agreement.

After exchanging a smile with Talim, he got up and went to the underground shooting range to practice his shooting and Beyonder powers. When it was almost noon, he returned to the first floor and went straight to the buffet cafeteria.

He had noticed earlier that the cuisine that was in limited supply today was red wine fried foie gras, paired with sliced apples and bread soaked in butter.

After taking his food, Klein carried his tray to the table where Talim was sitting. At that moment, there was another acquaintance of his, who, by the same token, had recommended his membership. He was the surgeon, Aaron Ceres.

Before he could sit down after setting the tray down, Klein noticed a crutch leaning against the chair of the famous surgeon.

“Aaron, what’s wrong?” he asked with concern.

The tall and thin man wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and had a cold appearance. He lightly patted his right leg and said, “No, don’t mention it. It’s really bad luck! I fell down the stairs and suffered rather serious fractures, so I could only fix it with a plaster.”

“You really were unlucky.” Klein sighed in agreement, cut a piece of foie gras, dipped it in sauce, and put it in his mouth. The fragrance that was emitted the moment they melted in his mouth stimulated all of his taste buds.

“I’ve been out of luck for a long time.” Aaron nudged his spectacle frames and rubbed his temples in passing.

He then looked at Klein, then at Talim before asking hesitantly, “Mr. Moriarty, do you—do you…”

“What?” Klein looked up.

Aaron lowered his voice.

“You’re a famous detective. You should know a lot of people, right?”

“It’s quite alright,” Klein didn’t understand what Aaron was up to as he answered perfunctorily.

Aaron looked at Talim again and took a deep breath.

“Do you know anyone who’s like a village witch doctor? No, I mean, some of the more capable fortune-tellers or mysticism enthusiasts. I think… I feel that my recent string of bad luck is too abnormal…

“I know it’s likely to be a fake or a scam, but there’s no other way of shirking my bad luck. I’ve tried to go to church, praying, donating, attending Mass, but it didn’t work at all.”

Capable fortune-teller and mysticism enthusiast… You seem to be talking about me… Klein pondered and said, “Aaron, tell us in detail about what happened to you.”

By his side, Talim nodded as well.

“Don’t worry, I may be a believer of the Lord, but I don’t reject things regarding mysticism.”

Aaron sighed in distress.

“There are a lot of things. For example, making mistakes at the operating table. Encountering an accident on the steam locomotive. I found that my house had been burgled when I returned home. When I went to the hospital, I ended up falling down the stairs… Do you think someone has cursed me?”

Yes, I’ve heard Aaron mention something like this before… Klein frowned slightly.

As a former Nighthawk, it was easy for him to associate this description with a Sealed Artifact: Misfortune Cloth Puppet!

Could it be a similar item? He activated his Spirit Vision and asked seriously, “Aaron, think back carefully. Before those unfortunate events began happening, one after another, did you or your family—yes, your family—encounter any unfortunate events?”

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