"I want to ask, are you willing to be our informant?"
Informant? Dunn, who had barely connected to the darkness around him, was suddenly startled, and his dark red eyes under the black-rimmed glasses were a little confused.
"Deacon Ikanser, I'm sorry, I am a believer of the goddess."
"No, you misunderstood, it's not important." Ikanser, who didn't expect to be rejected for this reason, scratched the messy brown hair on his head, looking a little embarrassed, "We are not forcing you to convert."
Immediately, as if he remembered something, he quickly added:
"Well...you don't have to worry about us being imprisoned underground if you refuse."
"Of course, if you really don't want to be an informant, although we won't actually do anything, we will still require you to come to the church to register once a week to determine your status. This is your responsibility to the residents of Backlund.
"
Ikanser's slightly hoarse voice was particularly noticeable in the quiet hospital corridor, while Dunn, with his head slightly lowered and his lips pursed, took advantage of the proposal, and no one spoke for a while.
"I..." After disguising himself, the bookish Dunn showed a hint of confusion just right. His hands under the cuffs of his maroon coat kept opening and clenching fists, and he sighed: "I am willing to become the heart of the machine.
Informant, but I'd like to request some additional powers."
Out of practical considerations, accepting the invitation from the Church of Steam can not only make up for Dunn's isolation and helplessness when encountering extraordinary events in Backlund, but also help him get rid of his dependence on the "Fool" and his angels to a certain extent.
Maybe you can get your revenge on your own.
This is not because Dunn does not trust His Highness Edmund who awakened him from death. He is just a Sequence Seven self and is not qualified to fight against an angel. However, he is still instinctively afraid that he will really become a monster unconsciously.
, to harm everything he once protected.
If you accept the invitation of the Church of Steam, if the worst case scenario really happens, at least, at least in the end, someone will be able to send you away as a human being with dignity.
What's more, I don't know how to face my church companions, how to face Dai Li... After joining Steam, even if I encounter extraordinary events, I may not have to meet them... Cloaked in a young appearance
The corner of Dunn's mouth slightly raised, and he extended his right hand to Deacon Ikanser opposite.
"Thank you for joining me. I will prepare your identity certificate in the file." Ikanser put down the record book in his hand and showed his attention. He also extended his right hand and cast an encouraging look at Dunn.
But unexpectedly, this deacon who had seen many things was stunned.
From his perspective, the plainness in the eyes of the young Mr. Evans has long since dissipated, replaced by the depth of time. His smiling face is tired, revealing an indescribable sadness.
"Mr. Evans..." Ikonse held his right hand in a daze and did not let go for a long time.
"What's wrong?" Dunn asked with concern, his black-rimmed glasses flashed with light, and he calmly took out his hand, "Is there anything else I need to explain?"
As the opponent's right hand was withdrawn, Ikanser came back to his senses, only to find that Louis Evans on the opposite side still had a bookish look and a dull look in his eyes, as if everything just now was an illusion.
"No, it's nothing, I was a little distracted..."
............
Backlund Bridge District, Rose Street.
This is a relatively safe area in the Backlund Bridge area, not far from the apartment Klein rented, only one block away.
At this time, the dawn sun suppressed the red moon, and the orange-red dawn penetrated the light yellow smoke, hitting the lampposts, eaves, treetops and other high places, pulling off long and thin shadows one after another.
Klein, who was wearing a double-breasted coat and a half-high silk top hat, was holding a copy of the "Tasok River News" he had just bought from the newsboy. He was standing under the stop sign of the public carriage.
Like an ordinary gentleman who can be seen everywhere, waiting for the bus.
It's six o'clock now, half an hour away from the earliest public bus, but there are already many office workers going to Jorwood District waiting under various stop signs with breakfast.
Five minutes later, from the alley between two townhouses on Rose Street, a big boy holding on to the collar of a shabby gray coat and wearing a round felt hat was breathing in the air-conditioning, his hands close to his body.
The worn-out satchel, red with cold, shivered as it squeezed into the crowd waiting for the public carriage.
Taking advantage of his height, he shuttled between gentlemen and workers one after another, and finally found a suitable position.
But before he could speak, the gentleman who was reading the newspaper next to him suddenly jumped up, holding the newspaper and cane tightly in his left hand, and thrust his right hand into his side pocket, and shouted impatiently:
"There's a thief, there's a thief here, my wallet is missing!"
After shouting, he turned around a few times recklessly, and then his ice-blue eyes locked on the big boy who was squeezing out of the crowd, and he couldn't help but grit his teeth:
"Don't run away, kid, give me my wallet back!"
The gentleman yelled and rushed into the surrounding crowd. He rushed out of the crowd amidst the shouts and curses, and ran away beyond the thief who had already run away.
However, all this did not cause any commotion to the surrounding crowd. Only a few unlucky ones who were hit secretly cursed a few times, and then followed the others to rejoin the process of silently waiting for the bus.
In the East District and Backlund Bridge District, where public security is poor, such things happen countless times every day. Even the police will not care about such trivial matters. As for the people at the scene of the incident, they will only think that this person is a bad person.
An out-and-out fool, a waste who can't even do the most basic thing of keeping a good wallet.
Gradually, the shouts of the gentleman whose wallet was stolen became farther and farther away. The members of the Zigman Party who were originally hiding in the crowd waiting for the bus no longer paid attention, and poured all their energy back into the ordinary building opposite.
On the house.
...
"Mr. Moriarty, you can change your approach next time instead of shouting "Catch the thief" without consulting me at all." He had not eaten for two meals and had just gone through a long-distance run. His face was a little weak and he was panting.
Ian was holding on to his bent knees, with warm sweat dripping down his delicate cheeks, looking a little pitiful.
Beside him, Klein, who was rearranging his clothes, glanced at the sound, and with his spiritual vision, he found that the other party's body was indeed very weak, and he sounded a little ashamed:
"This is an emergency situation. There may be monitors near Qiangwei Long Street."
Ian, who was bent over and gasping for breath, took a moment to calm down, then licked his chapped lips, and turned his rare bright red eyes to look at his companion who was much older than him strangely.
"Isn't it normal to have surveillance people around Detective Zerrell's residence?"
"Since you want to steal something from the Zigman Party, you must be prepared to be monitored or even attacked by the other party."
"Isn't this common sense among bounty hunters?"
Common sense... Klein, who was poked by the other party's question, still kept smiling, his facial muscles a little stiff.
He looked at the big boy in front of him, recalled the general traffic situation nearby, and took the initiative to raise his cane and point to his side.
"How about we go eat first?"
"Wait, where is Mr. Zerrell?" Ian, who instinctively wanted to follow, suddenly stopped and frowned slightly.
"Let's talk later during dinner." Klein, who was wearing formal attire, took a few steps forward, but didn't hear the footsteps behind him. He immediately turned around and found Ian looking at him with a wary face, his right hand already
He reached into the shabby cloth bag that he never left.
"Where is Mr. Zerrell?" Ian, who frowned, spread his legs, and was ready to escape at any time, said in a serious tone, "Mr. Moriarty, where is Detective Zerrell?"
Sigh... Klein, who originally thought he could fool him, had a cold expression. With the mature temperament created through magical items, his shoulders were slightly shrugged and his voice was low, as if he was telling a story that had nothing to do with him.
"He is already dead. When we were snatching the document, we encountered a powerful enemy. Detective Zerrell was killed."
Before he finished speaking, Klein saw Ian's body suddenly rise up, and he was about to run away.
He had to take a few steps forward quickly, using the "Joker's" powerful athletic ability and intuition to avoid the trajectory of the revolver in the opponent's bag. Before he could launch, he tapped the opponent's wrist with one hand and held Yi with the other.
En's neck tightly controlled this agitated boy.
"What I said is true. Detective Zerrell was killed by the woman recruited by the Zigman Party that day. You should know the existence of Extraordinaries. She is a powerful Extraordinary!"
Imitating the plot he had seen in the TV series before, Klein got as close to the character of the bounty hunter as possible and growled lowly at Ian.
Slowly, perhaps because there was really no way to escape, or perhaps after careful consideration, Ian, who was struggling violently, gradually stopped, leaning against Klein's chest behind him, panting, and there was a hint of sobbing in his breathing.
.
Klein, who had a high degree of trust in his own inspiration, let go of the boy in his hands, took two steps back, and observed the other person's expression.
He found that the big boy seemed to be really shocked by the sudden news, but his face was not sad, but a sense of loss after his hope was shattered.
Thinking about it, Zerrell might not treat him as a human being just by using his relationship, so how could he be sad... He was using his spiritual vision to confirm the surrounding environment over and over again, confirming the restraint of Ian's specific emotions.
Ryan remained silent, choosing to let the other party adjust his emotions alone.
"I'm sorry, I got a little excited when I heard the news." Ian, who had regained his composure, wiped his face, his bright red eyes lowered, as if his whole body was covered with a gray filter.
This is not exciting... Klein, who didn't know the details, didn't answer casually. He put on a more relaxed smile, raised his cane like before, and spoke in a mellow voice.
"How about we go eat now? I'm a little hungry."
When the two were chasing each other just now, because they didn't communicate with each other in advance, they ran to the Backlund Boarding Bridge in one breath, which was only ten minutes away from the Jorwood District where security was relatively good.
"Okay." Ian, realizing that he had lost his composure, replied softly, lowering the round felt hat on his head with his right hand, half of his face buried in the shadows.
It wasn't until the two of them walked out for a long time that he returned to normal and apologized to Klein in a dull voice that sounded like his nose was blocked: