Part 2 The Faceless Man Chapter 91 – Feathers

　　White feathers?

　　Klein looked at the corpse-less tomb and a word came to him in a flash:

　　”Angel!”

　　The canon of the Seven Churches was filled with legends of angels and saints, and one of the characteristics of the former was a pair, two, three, or even six pairs of white, pure feathers on their backs.

　　In an instant, however, Klein remembered a past event:

　　Mr. Aztec had once described his dreams to him, describing dreams that seemed like life after life after life.

　　One of the scenes was in the darkness of a mausoleum, surrounded by many open old coffins, in which there were bodies with white feathers on their backs!

　　Is this a special manifestation of the “Grim Reaper” pathway, or is it a bizarre phenomenon created by the Spirit Order? Klein did not say anything, collected all kinds of emotions, calmly looking at the bottom of the grave stained with yellowish oil white feathers.

　　He initially judged that the old man could not be an angel, because the death of a horrible extraordinary person of sequence 2 or even sequence 1 would certainly have a strong impact on the surrounding area, for example, the “ashes of the saints” behind the door of Tingen City Charnis would extend a nearly invisible black cold thin line, so as to seal the surrounding people and things.

　　Of course, it is also possible that he is not really dead …… like Mr. Aztec? Klein bent his back and picked up three white feathers with his black-gloved right palm.

　　–He intended to go above the gray mist for a divination when he got home.

　　By this time, Kopsti slowed down and rolled to Klein’s side, looking down the grave path with hidden fear:

　　”Where’s the body?”

　　Crane gave him a sideways glance and spoke in a low voice:

　　”Perhaps, he went away by himself.”

　　”Gone off by himself ……,” repeated Kopsti in horror, thoroughly realizing what a terrible thing it was for the dead to awaken.

　　His legs trembled, and he said as if to himself:

　　”But, but, I didn’t use the resurrection ritual on him, on him.”

　　Klein turned his body and watched him for a few seconds saying:

　　”Death is not the end.”

　　”Death is not the end …… Death is not the end ……” Kopsti asked offhandedly, horrified by the idea he believed in, “He, he will come back?”

　　Well, the probability is that the messenger summoned by that copper whistle corresponds to that old gentleman, which means that giving the note to the messenger is the same as sending a letter to that old gentleman, to a man who has been dead for almost half a year …… Heh, I wonder where he’s gone now, and what state he’s in… …In response to Kopsti’s question, Klein made a lighthearted mention:

　　”Don’t blow that copper whistle again.”

　　”You mean the copper whistle will draw him back?” Kopsti asked back in horror.

　　Without waiting for Crane’s answer, he pleaded with himself:

　　”Will you, will you help me to throw this copper whistle into the Tassock River?”

　　”If not, then, then I will go myself.”

　　Weren’t you interested in the philosophy of death versus correspondence before? Krynn ventriloquized and reached for the copper whistle that belonged to Kopsti.

　　He was going to try sending a letter to the dead, if the conditions were right, and see what happened.

　　Of course, all of this assumed that he was sure there wasn’t too much danger.

　　After instructing Kopsti to refill the grave, Klein exchanged a few moments of “Spirit Dance” and the corresponding knowledge of the occult with him, enriching his own insights, and asked Kopsti to bury the old man in accordance with the other side of the will, so that the body lying face down.

　　Under certain special circumstances, it would be more effective and easier to use the “Spirit Dance” to replace some of the tedious arrangements of ceremonial magic …… Seeing that his purpose had been accomplished, Klein warned Kopsti again, telling him not to play with the so-called resurrection rituals any more.

　　Then, he left this street from the garden and circled to a far place to take a carriage to the Eastern District.

　　After changing into his previous clothing, he returned to Minsk Street, entered his bedroom, and, after a series of operations, brought the three white feathers and Koopsti’s brass whistle above the gray mist.

　　Sitting down to the high-backed chair belonging to the Fool, Klein materialized a pen and paper and scribbled down a long thought out divination statement:

　　”Where it comes from.”

　　Immediately afterward, he took hold of the three white feathers and leaned back against the back of the chair.

　　In the midst of his silent recitation, Klein enters a dream world, surrounded by a misty, gray, and dense landscape.

　　There was a thick, lightless darkness in such a world, and suddenly, the darkness was tinted with a scarlet hue, and a pale, bony hand poked out of the tawny dirt.

　　A figure slowly climbed up, he didn’t lift the stone slab and stir the soil, but just penetrated outward.

　　Under the scarlet moonlight, the clothes on this figure’s back were tattered and torn, and a white feather grew out.

　　The silhouette with mottled white hair turned its head slightly sideways, revealing the obvious red spots on its face, as well as wooden, dull, emotionless eyes.

　　It took a step and struggled to penetrate the fence, traveling deeper and deeper into the blackness until it disappeared.

　　The dream shattered with it, and Klein awoke.

　　A white feather really grew behind the corpse …… Its state is very much like Ms. Sharon ah, but, again, there is a clear difference, giving people a very heavy and substantial not illusory feeling …… It seems to be able to transform between the human body and the spiritual body in a half natural and incomplete way? A messenger between the real world and the spiritual underworld? Klein reached out and tapped the edge of the long table, contemplating for a while.

　　Immediately afterward, he divined whether there was any danger in using that copper whistle of Kopsti’s to send a letter now, and received an affirmative answer, and the spirit pendulum turned wide and fast.

　　”It’s a pity, can’t use the copper whistle directly on the gray fog, the messenger can’t get in at all, otherwise there is no danger ……” Klein muttered to himself before falling into the gray fog and returning to the real world.

　　……

　　In the early morning hours, within the relatively fresh woods of Queens.

　　The round-faced, thirty-something year old pharmacist appeared in a secluded corner and included the secretly planted herbs in the leather pouch he carried with him.

　　After completing today’s task, he straightened his back and moved his body, murmuring silently to himself with great satisfaction:

　　”Sure enough, the physical quality has been improved, no longer like before, only the resistance to toxins is stronger.”

　　”But …… why is my Sequence 8 ‘Beast Tamer’? What does that have to do with ‘Pharmacist’?”

　　”Well, a medicine man domesticates and uses plants and some part of an animal that has lost its life, and a beast tamer domesticates and uses living animals, including transcendental creatures?”

　　”So my Sequence 7 will be able to domesticate and use humans?”

　　”The old man didn’t even tell me the name of Sequence 7 or give me the formula, I’ll have to try and contact him when I stabilize.”

　　The pharmacist punched and kicked, adapting to his stronger body, and didn’t stop moving until he was exhausted.

　　Huffing …… in his breath, he began to think about a serious question:

　　That is, how should the tamer play?

　　”What should a tamer …… do? Find animals to tame?” In the midst of the pharmacist’s muttering, he suddenly sensed something and looked at the artificial lake location.

　　There was a large golden-haired dog running happily there.

　　Seemingly sensing his line of sight, the big golden-haired dog haughtily turned its head sideways and looked over.

　　The line of sight collided in mid-air, and the big golden-haired dog froze for a moment, then turned around smartly and ran out of sight in a puff of smoke.

　　……

　　Inside the luxurious villa of Earl Hall’s family.

　　Susie returned to the piano room, squatting beside Audrey’s feet, spitting out her tongue and gasping for air.

　　Waiting until the blonde girl finished playing a song, it said afterward:

　　”Audrey, I met a scary guy.”

　　”He had terrible eyes!”

　　”Were they? What did he want to do to you?” Audrey asked, curious and concerned.

　　Susie thought seriously and said, “I don’t know, anyway, he’s dangerous, that’s my intuition.”

　　”What does he look like?” Audrey considered whether or not to have the guards and attendants of the house warn the man.

　　”Didn’t get a good look, I feel, feel like he’s my natural enemy!” Susie replied in a serious voice.

　　Your natural enemy? A dog nemesis? Audrey gave a reserved smile:

　　”Susie, you shouldn’t go to that forest lately.”

　　”Woof, Audrey, you weren’t in a good mood just now? I could hear it in the sound of your piano.” Susie asked in turn.

　　Audrey nodded gently:

　　”Well …… I just got word from Graylingt that Forsyth and Hugh told me that tonight’s party is canceled. I had planned to trade you for extraordinary materials.”

　　And try to get in touch with the Psycho-Alchemy Society …… she added mentally.

　　”Why?” Susie asked suspiciously.

　　Audrey answered thoughtfully:

　　”It’s rumored to be an effect of that serial murder case.”

　　……

　　Saturday morning, the air in Bakerland was as bad as usual.

　　Klein was trying to make a pasta dish he loved as a child, for which he had purchased high quality flour, added water and sugar, and made a thin pot of “glue”.

　　Then he poured oil into a pot and moistened the surface.

　　When it was hot, he scooped up some of the batter with a ladle and poured it over the edge of the pot, spreading it very thinly.

　　The sound of zigzagging was heard as he spread several pancakes, the smell of flour gradually spreading out.

　　When he was almost done, he removed the soft, crusty pancakes, placed them in the pan, and added water to make a batter with the remaining ingredients.

　　When he returned to the dining room with the pancakes and the “batter”, Klein couldn’t wait to pull a piece off and stuff it into his mouth.

　　The pancake only rich wheat flavor and stimulate the appetite of the sweet flavor, simple, simple, but very delicious.

　　It was the flavor of memory …… Klein ate it quickly, taking a sip of the batter every now and then.

　　Just as he had eaten almost as much as he wanted and began to slow down, the doorbell was suddenly pulled and the sound of jingling echoed.

　　A new commission? Klein removed his napkin, wiped his hands, and got up to walk towards the door.

　　Before he even gripped the handle, an image of the visitor naturally surfaced within his mind.

　　It was a middle-aged or elderly gentleman with gray sideburns, a thin face, and a distinguished air.

　　It was Eisinger Stanton, the private detective who could get an invitation from the police!

　　What did he come to see me for? Klein asked with a smile as he opened the door suspiciously:

　　”Good morning, Mr. Stanton, what can I do for you?”

　　Eisinger took off his half-height silk bowler hat and smiled:

　　”Good morning Mr. Moriarty, I’d like to ask you for your cooperation, I think you’re an excellent detective, and earlier on purely on your own you checked out the East Byron Dockyard and the Dockworkers Union.”

　　”Cooperation?” Klein did not hide his own consternation.

　　Eisinger nodded his black cane and replied in a hushed voice:

　　”Find out who is responsible for the recent serial killings.”

　　”The police have offered a reward, two thousand pounds.”