Part 1 The Joker Chapter 141 The Nightmare

　　Exhausted, Klein lifted the sealed wall of spirituality, letting the cool night air blow on his face with the smell of grass and trees, sobering him up a bit.

　　He rubbed the warm, classical seal “3-0782” in his palm and sighed inwardly with a heartfelt sigh:

　　”Who would have thought that a drop of God’s blood was fused in this badge …… It is estimated that the powerhouses of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun had searched for it, but failed to find it ……”

　　Moving his neck, Klein didn’t dare to try anything else and put the “Mutant Sun Emblem” on the inside of his thin trench coat.

　　Following the chain, he pulled out the silver pocket watch with the branch and vine pattern, snapped it open, and glanced at it, realizing that it was still over an hour before Fry the Body Collector came in for his shift.

　　”My eyelids need two matches to hold …… this is the aftermath of being dead!” Klein had no choice but to remove a small metal vial from a grid of small concealed pockets, remove the stopper, and bring it to the end of his nose.

　　The choking smell of peppermint and disinfectant mixed together quickly penetrated into his nose, stimulating him with goosebumps, lifting his spirit, and instantly forgetting his drowsiness.

　　This is the recipe he learned from the “corpse collector” Frye, called “Krager’s oil”, can help people fight the stench of decay and other bad odors, and at the same time refreshing effect.

　　For the next hour or so, Klein was tormented by the mosquitoes that bit him and drew blood from the woods.

　　Finally, he saw Fry, who had a high nose and thin lips, black hair and blue eyes, walk out of the town wearing a thin trench coat and carrying a cane.

　　Although the other party still looked as cold and gloomy as a living corpse, Klein was like seeing a savior, and while covering his mouth and yawning, fighting back tears, he greeted him and removed the seal “3-0782” from the inside of his clothing.

　　”What happened?” Frye inquired of his own accord as he looked at his teammate’s pale, ugly face.

　　Klein sighed:

　　”I just manned the Charnis Gate last night and didn’t sleep very well this morning, so I’m pretty sleepy right now.”

　　Without mentioning more about it, he digressed, “I’m rotating in four hours?”

　　”Seven hours, and the captain doesn’t need sleep in the middle of the night.” Fry took the “Mutated Sun Holy Emblem.”

　　Cultivation Makes You Happy …… Klein silently denigrated the captain, said goodbye to Fry, and walked toward the town.

　　On his way down the street near the inn, he casually took out his pocket watch again and checked the time:

　　”Huh, almost ten minutes earlier than the appointed time ……”

　　”What a warm person ……” Klein smiled, picked up speed, and made his way back to the inn, pushed open the half-covered door, and walked up to the second floor under the scrutinizing gaze of the proprietor, entering the room that belonged to him.

　　Locking the door and removing his jacket and shoes, he didn’t clean himself and fell right back onto the bed.

　　It was only a matter of ten seconds or so before his sniffles became heavy, then long and steady.

　　In his sleep, Klein returned to Earth, and in front of him was the game he hadn’t yet played through, with an ice-cold Coke and spicy chicken wings on his left, and bitter asparagus and pork slice soup and rice on his right.

　　He had never eaten bitter asparagus, but he really liked the soup made with it and sliced meat, the soup was refreshing and appetizing with a little bit of fat’s appealing aroma, it was perfect for soaking up the rice.

　　With a good dish of dipping sauce, he could eat a whole bowl of rice more than usual!

　　Just as Klein was about to enjoy his midnight snack and play the game again, the scene in his dream changed and reappeared as the interior of 2 Daffodil Street.

　　Klein was suddenly alert and awake to the fact that he was in the middle of a dream.

　　He saw himself seated at a seat on the side of the dining room table, a copy of the Tingen Daily News in his hand, and food such as tomato oxtail soup, pan-fried lamb chops, mashed potatoes, and oatmeal bread in front of him.

　　He subconsciously turned his head and looked to where the front door was located, when he jerked his head to see a figure standing outside the corresponding convex belly window in the living room, gazing silently inside the house!

　　Klein was startled, and then whirled to recognize it as Dunn with his ghostly gray eyes, half of his face pressed against the window as he wordlessly watched the person inside.

　　…… Captain, don’t scare people in their dreams, okay? Is this your way of playing the nightmare? Klein thought good-naturedly and amusedly as he took out his soup ladle, fished out a piece of beef, and put it in his mouth.

　　Well, it’s my handiwork! He gave a secret sigh of relief, realizing why he was suddenly awake in his dream and why the scenes of Earth had disappeared in an instant.

　　He was naturally alerted when someone invaded his dream world!

　　Just then, Dunn left the convex belly window position and pushed open the door of Moretti’s house directly, draped in a black trench coat, and walked quietly across to Klein.

　　He removed his hat, nodded gently, sat down, half-heartedly picked up his knife, fork and spoon, and ate the tomato oxtail soup, pan-fried lamb chops, mashed potatoes and oatmeal bread on the table with great speed.

　　Klein watched dumbfounded, confused as to what exactly the captain was trying to do.

　　Whew, Dunn exhaled contentedly and gave Klein a thumbs up before pulling out his pipe and matches and taking an intoxicating puff.

　　Exhaling the cloud of smoke, he stood up, grabbed his hat, gave an old-school but steady salute, and stepped away from Moretti’s house and out of this dreamland.

　　”……” Klein looked at the captain’s back for a long moment.

　　He looked down at the empty plate and subconsciously tried to recreate the food he had just eaten.

　　However, this time, no matter if it was the tomato oxtail soup, or the pan-fried lamb chops and mashed potatoes, none of them continued to appear in his dream.

　　”Being completely ‘devoured’? This is the power of ‘Nightmare’?” The corners of Klein’s mouth twitched as he helplessly thought, “So, the captain’s goal is to make it so that I can’t even eat my midnight snack in my dreams? That’s quite the nightmare …… This ‘nightmare’ plays out really creatively ……”

　　He let out a lost laugh, exited the dream, and went back to sleep again.

　　The next morning at 5:30 a.m., Crane, who had to get up early, drank his coffee, ate his toast and bacon, and hurriedly headed outside of town to replace Dunn.

　　At seven o’clock sharp, they departed for the return trip to downtown Tingen.

　　They arrived at 36 Zotland Street just before ten o’clock, and while a refreshed Dunn put the seal, “3-0782,” back behind the Charnes Gate, Frye sat down at a mechanical typewriter to write yesterday’s mission report and the corresponding consumption claims before the clerical staff was even in place.

　　Klein watched for a while, satisfied that all the materials he had used up were listed – and that included the portion he had used to repel mosquitoes and insects.

　　He did not go home at once, for an appointment had been made by writing a coded letter for Dr. Duster of the asylum to meet him at one o’clock in the afternoon, at a predetermined place.

　　”Then there’s the Tarot party at three o’clock …… Why do I have to live so tired as the BOSS of a hidden organization?” Klein muttered silently to himself and lay down in the night watchman’s lounge for two hours to catch up on his sleep.

　　For those knowledge and things he gained last night, he wasn’t worried about forgetting them, which could be recalled by divination, what he was afraid of was that he ignored their existence and lost even the idea of divining them, so he went over all the details again within his mind before going to sleep to deepen his impression.

　　This was also the reason why Klein insisted on writing summaries every week to sort out various situations.

　　After lunch, he took out his pocket watch, put on his hat, and left Blackthorn Security for the Shooting Club at 3 Zoltan Street.

　　Pushing open the door and entering the reception hall, Klein didn’t go directly to the range belonging to the night watchman, but took a seat in the lobby and waited patiently with his hands clasped around the black cane.

　　The place where he and Duster had agreed to meet was the “Zotland Street Shooting Club”!

　　And the way they agreed was to write a letter, when Klein needed to meet, he would write a letter to Dr. Duster Guderian as a family member of a patient, asking about a special disease called “split personality”, in the letter, Klein would mention the word “audience” in a variety of ways, so that with the hidden position of the ink spot to confirm his own identity, and the letter was not a subtle reference to the audience. In the letter, Klein will mention the word “audience” in various ways, so as to identify himself with ink dots in hidden places, and the point in time that he accidentally writes in the letter is the meeting point.

　　As for the place of meeting, it had been fixed in their first negotiation, and if Klein felt it was time for a different place, he would deliver it in the interview.

　　When Duster Guderian wanted to meet, but was not in a hurry, he could send a letter to the Hound Tavern, or to the shooting club, addressed to “Mr. Hornachs,” and wait for Crane to pick it up at the right time.

　　If he had an emergency, the letter had to go directly to the owner of the Hound Tavern, Wright, and had to mention “looking for mercenaries”, so that Wright, as a member of the peripheral members of the night watchman, would immediately send the letter to the Blackbriar Security Company.

　　After waiting for a while, two minutes short of one o’clock, Klein saw Duster, who had a rather elegant demeanor, walk into the lobby of the “shooting club”.

　　He wore a black silk bowler hat, a well-fitted tuxedo, a silver-encrusted cane in his hand, and a pair of gold-rimmed framed glasses on his face.

　　Duster looked around unobtrusively for half a second, saw Klein with a slight nod, and withdrew his gaze, walking toward the front desk to skillfully apply for a range and rent a gun.

　　–He’d already been here once.

　　”Small range #7, 3 Soule per hour, revolver rental cost, 1 Soule and 6 pence per hour with six rounds of ammunition ……” The woman in charge of the reception quickly got the thing done.

　　Once Duster had confirmed the time as one hour and paid the 10 Soule fee, he received his revolver with extra bullets and was led by the waiter into the appropriate range.

　　Klein waited another five minutes before getting up slowly, cane in hand, and going outside of the small range #7 and knocking on the door with a thud.

　　With a creak, the door cracked open a crack, and Dusty probed warily and glanced left and right before moving out of the way.

　　Klein immediately dodged inside and unlocked the door.

　　”Good afternoon, Mr. Duster.” He said as he took out a ten-soule bill and handed it to the other man, “We won’t be burdening the members of the periphery with the cost of the meeting.”

　　Because I can reimburse …… he added silently.

　　Without excusing himself, Duster accepted the cash, then asked in a hushed voice:

　　”Officer Moretti, what’s the matter you’re seeking to meet with me about this time?”