Under the scorching afternoon sun, Klein walked out of his house.
Since he had to walk all the way from Iron Cross Street to Welch's residence, he changed out of his formal suit, top hat and leather boots, and put on a linen shirt, an old brown coat, a round-brimmed felt hat of the same color and old leather shoes. This way, he wouldn't have to worry about the expensive suit getting stained with sweat.
He strolled along Narcissus Street towards Iron Cross Street. When passing by the corner square, he subconsciously glanced at it.
The tents were gone, and the circus that had performed there had already left.
Klein had imagined that the animal trainer who had done the divination for him was actually a hidden power, who had discovered his uniqueness and came to guide him. There would surely be more meetings and hints later on. However, nothing happened. She had left with the circus for the next stop.
There aren't so many tricks... Klein chuckled and shook his head, then turned towards Iron Cross Street.
Iron Cross Street wasn't just one street, but rather formed by the intersection of two roads, just as its name suggested.
With the crossroads as the center, it was divided into left street, right street, upper street and lower street. The apartment where Klein, Benson and Melissa had lived was on the lower street.
However, the residents living in the apartment and the surrounding area didn't consider it the lower street. They had created the term "middle street" to distinguish it from the area two hundred meters away where the poor lived in clusters.
There, a single bedroom might house six or even ten people.
Klein walked along the edge of the left street, his thoughts wandering. He recalled the Antigonus family's notebook, its disappearance, the attention it had drawn from the Night Watch, and the subsequent bloodshed.
His mood gradually became heavy, and his expression turned gloomy.
Just then, a familiar voice reached his ears:
"Little Klein."
Huh... Klein turned his head in confusion and found himself in front of "Slin's Bakery". Mrs. Slin, with her grayish-white hair, was waving and smiling at him.
"You don't look very... very happy?" Mrs. Slin asked gently.
Klein rubbed his face and said:
"A little."
"Even if you have a lot of troubles, tomorrow will still come." Mrs. Slin smiled and said, "Come, try my new sweet iced tea. I don't know if it suits the local taste."
"Local? Aren't you Mrs. Slin a local?" Klein shook his head with a smile.
Try it probably means it's free, right?
Mrs. Slin Slin raised the corner of her mouth and said:
"You guessed it. I'm actually from the south. I came to Tingen with my husband over forty years ago. Hehe, back then, Benson wasn't even born, and your father and mother weren't even acquainted yet."
"I've never quite gotten used to the food style in the north. I always miss the food from home, miss the pork sausages, miss the potato bread, miss the thin pancakes, miss the fried vegetables in lard, and miss the grilled meat with special sauce."
"Ah, and I miss the sweet iced tea..."
Klein smiled as he listened:
"Mrs. Slin, this is such a hungry topic... But I feel much better now, thank you."
"Good food always cures sadness." Mrs. Slin handed Klein a cup of brownish-red liquid. "This is the sweet iced tea I made based on my memories. Try it and see if it's good."
After thanking her, Klein took a sip and found that the drink had a taste similar to iced black tea on Earth, but it wasn't as stimulating. It had a stronger tea flavor and a more refreshing taste, immediately dispelling the heat brought by the scorching sun.
"Very good!" he exclaimed.
"Then I'm relieved." Mrs. Slin's eyes narrowed into a smile as she watched Klein finish the cup of sweet iced tea.
After chatting with Mrs. Slin for a while about moving to a new home, Klein returned to the most familiar street. In the afternoon, there were far fewer street vendors here. They would gather again around half past six. The few remaining ones looked listless and dispirited.
As soon as he turned into this area, Klein's mood suddenly became gloomy for no reason. He felt a kind of indescribable oppression, depression and darkness.
What's going on? He keenly noticed something was wrong with himself and immediately stopped to look around, but he didn't see anything strange.
After thinking for a moment, Klein raised his hand and tapped his forehead twice as if in deep thought.
The auras of the street vendors and a few passers-by immediately became visible to his eyes.
Before he could examine the healthy colors of their auras, he was drawn to the intense and dim shades that symbolized their emotions.
He couldn't tell the specific thoughts of the people being observed, but the impression of pessimism, numbness and depression was deeply engraved in his heart.
Looking around, he found that the area was filled with this gloomy tone, even the sunlight couldn't dispel it.
This was the oppression that had accumulated over countless days, months and years.
Seeing this, Klein immediately understood the reason.
Just as Old Neil said, with his Seer ability activated, he was prone to feeling uncomfortable in unfamiliar environments and could easily be influenced by others' emotions.
The same principle could also be applied to the "Inspiration" ability - this was a passive and unavoidable perception that came with being a "Seer" and didn't require additional learning. It allowed one to directly sense the existence of some abnormal situations.
And since perception always involved a certain degree of interaction, in the eyes of an "Occultist", the strength of a person's inspiration was so obvious, like a torch in the darkness. Therefore, people with high inspiration would naturally and easily be affected by abnormal and intense atmospheres, and could only control and adapt to it through repeated practice.
"It must have taken a long time to form such a depressing 'tone'..." Klein sighed and shook his head, feeling touched.
He tapped his forehead twice again and tried to restrain his spirituality.
With each step, he walked towards his apartment, sensing for any other possible abnormalities and subtle connections to find the Antigonus family's notes that were hidden by "himself".
The street was as dirty as usual, with dirty water and garbage. It wasn't until he reached the entrance of the apartment that it became clean.
Klein pushed open the half-closed door and walked around the first floor in the dark area where the sunlight couldn't reach.
He climbed the wooden stairs step by step, causing them to creak with each step.
The second floor was as dim as ever. Klein let his "Inspiration" run wild and stared directly into the darkness.
However, not only did he fail to find any clues about the notes, he didn't even see a single invisible spirit.
"If it were that easy to encounter, most ordinary people would have noticed the existence of the extraordinary..." Klein muttered to himself.
He now understood that most "spirits" didn't exist in the form of spirits, but as spirituality, and only "Occultists" could effectively communicate with them.
After walking around the third floor, Klein left the apartment and followed the path he remembered to walk to Welch's residence.
He walked for an hour but still didn't find anything along the way.
Standing outside the garden villa, Klein looked at the house through the locked iron gate and muttered to himself:
"Shouldn't I have to look for the Welch family? Captain and Ms. Daly must have conducted a thorough search..."
"And I don't have the key to this place. I can't just climb over the wall..."
"I'll try another route tomorrow..."
"I walked so much today, but there's no step count leaderboard..."
Amidst his teasing, Klein turned back towards the nearby neighborhood, planning to take a public carriage to the Blackthorn Security Company to pick up today's thirty bullets and make the most of his time to practice. The "Diviner" lacks quick and effective attack methods and can only rely on the revolver and cane to make up for it!
The area near Welch's residence is quite clean, with many bright and tidy shops along the streets.
Turning the corner, Klein was about to look for a public carriage stop when his eyes suddenly caught several signs on the second floor across the street:
"Harold Department Store."
"Veterans' Club."
"Divination Club." ...
Divination Club... Klein murmured the name to himself and suddenly thought of the matter of him "playing" the role of a diviner.
Well, go and take a look... look for some new ideas...
While his thoughts were in a jumble, Klein crossed the street, went to the opposite side, climbed up to the second floor, entered the hall, and stood in front of the pretty lady in charge of reception.
This lady had her brownish-yellow hair coiled up high. She sized Klein up and smiled, saying:
"Sir, do you want to have a divination or join our club?"
"What are the conditions for joining?" Klein asked casually.
The lady with the high-coiled brownish-yellow hair introduced it fluently:
"Fill out the detailed information, pay the annual membership fee. The first time is 5 pounds, and then 1 pound per year. Don't worry, we are not like those political or business clubs. You don't need to be recommended by a formal member to join."
"Members can use the club's meeting rooms and various divination rooms and divination tools for free, enjoy the coffee and tea provided by us for free, read the newspapers and magazines we subscribe to for free, and purchase lunch, dinner, alcoholic beverages, and some divination textbooks and materials at cost price."
"And, we will invite at least one famous diviner to give lectures and answer questions every month."
"The most important thing is that you can find a group of friends with the same hobby and exchange experiences with each other."
It sounds good, but... but I don't have money... Klein smiled self-mockingly and then asked:
"What if I want to have a divination?"