Above the gray fog, within a magnificent and solemn mysterious palace,
Klein, limited by his own abilities and hampered by the witch's self-referential divination effects, formulated all his questions into self-related phrases. He then conducted divinations on what he considered the most crucial questions: "
I, my family, and my colleagues have been subjected to mental manipulation and emotional guidance within a week."
"My cognition has been altered within a week, without my awareness of the influence." "
I have been affected by hallucinations and auditory hallucinations within a week."
"All of these influences were caused by the same person. "
To his astonishment and fear, the divination results for all the above questions showed affirmative answers!
The implications were almost self-evident.
On a whim, Klein conducted one last divination in the palace above the gray fog.
"The woman currently lodging in my house intends to obtain 'pleasure' from me."
— This was the inspiration Klein drew from the potion's name, "The Pleasure Witch."
If Alice is truly a powerful being who has entered the middle sequence, a "Pleasure Witch" of Sequence 6, judging from her apparent age...
well, whether she's really seventeen or seventeen years and several months old, she must know how to advance quickly.
This also means that she's acting, and needs "pleasure"!
The silver chain of the citrine pendulum was pulled and tugged by a mysterious force, swinging clockwise.
Klein opened his mouth speechlessly, feeling somewhat confused, unsure of how to react next.
Yes, pleasure...
Alice seems to be finding amusement in his reactions; every time she sees his awkward and immature performance, she shows a very pleased expression.
If this is her role-playing requirement, then it explains her usual behavior.
Damn it, pleasure can be acted out in this form? It sounds so inappropriate for children, but it's actually just pleasure-seeking?
Continuous thinking and divination left Klein feeling mentally empty and powerless, so he quickly meditated to calm his mind, simulating the feeling of falling back to reality.
The room's furnishings were exactly the same as before he ascended into the gray mist, unchanged in the slightest.
Yet, in this warm and tranquil bedroom, Klein stared at the slivers of sunlight filtering through the curtains onto the floor, feeling no warmth whatsoever.
In the room's temperature of around twenty degrees Celsius, he felt an inexplicable chill creeping through his body.
He had unknowingly, ridiculously, spent so many days in
this state! If it weren't for that mysterious transfer ritual, and if he hadn't been able to reach the space above the gray mist, would he still be in the dark, continuing to be oblivious to these anomalies around him?
And if only some time had passed, and he had truly become familiar with the witch, the occasional sense of disharmony he felt would be easier to ignore.
Then, he would simply believe he had truly fallen in love with the witch, thus dispelling all doubts, and even becoming willing to reveal his deepest secrets to her!
On the seventh day as an Extraordinary, Klein once again experienced the panic and unease of his initial traversal.
However, this time, he intentionally forced himself to regain his composure; his long-term meditation practice allowed him to complete the process quickly.
Once he regained his senses, the first thing Klein did was move the full-length mirror to a corner of the room, out of sight of the other furniture. Even so, he was still uneasy, feeling that a face might appear in the mirror at any moment.
Terrified by his own imagination, Klein found an old bed sheet he hadn't thrown away during the move and covered the full-length mirror, only then feeling slightly more at ease.
He then carefully drew the curtains to prevent reflections of the room from appearing in the glass, thus preventing the witch from seeing his side from that eerie and fantastical mirror world.
After doing all this, Klein took out his pocket watch and glanced at it, realizing it was only approaching four in the afternoon. He had two to three hours to devise a strategy to deal with the witch.
After calming down and thinking for a while, Klein realized that the inconsistencies he had made in his panicked conclusions could be roughly divided into two types:
unconditional trust and a certain degree of affection.
Admittedly, trust and goodwill could completely explain his, Benson's, and Melissa's attitudes towards the witch.
If the whole process were prolonged, say after a month of getting to know each other and communicating, a foundation of trust and goodwill would gradually develop, then there would be no reason to doubt it.
However, now, the process of developing trust and goodwill was clearly too fast, as if guided and catalyzed by some invisible force.
...Is it the actual manifestation of the witch's skill in seduction as written in the Night Watcher's file?
But what is her purpose in doing so?
Klein was deeply confused.
If Alice is really the "Pleasure Witch" written on the wanted poster, she should be focusing on evading the Night Watchers and other official forces, so why would she be openly going out for a stroll every day?
No, that's not right, he can't think like that.
How can he be sure that she's just strolling around the streets and not carrying out some secret plot?
He knows absolutely nothing about her movements during the day!
Klein pressed his temples in exasperation, feeling that the information he currently possessed was still far too limited.
Before determining the veracity of Alice's one-sided account, he could only conclude, from as objective a perspective as possible, that she had not yet shown any obvious malice towards him or his family.
The biggest problem now lay with the "contract" he had signed.
That is, if it truly had a problem.
Although Klein had verified the authenticity of the "contract," he no longer dared to trust his previous judgment, nor could he be certain that the situation wasn't caused by some magical "sealed artifact," so inevitably, he felt some unease.
Fortunately, if there was a problem, it would only affect him personally, at least not Benson and Melissa, who lived under the same roof.
He chuckled self-deprecatingly.
After a moment, Klein decided on his next strategy.
First, he should act as the "fortune teller" as much as possible to quickly digest the potion and increase his strength; in his spare time, he should search for information related to the wanted poster, namely the "Duce County serial disappearances" that had recently made the front page of the newspaper; on ordinary days, he should pretend not to have noticed anything unusual, probe the witch's words, and if possible, try to keep this dangerous variable away from his home.
Klein let out a long sigh of relief, only then realizing that his back was soaked with sweat.
He went into the washroom to quickly tidy himself up, changed into a clean shirt and coat, picked up his non-silk top hat to make sure nothing was missing, and then left home, taking a public carriage to the fortune-telling club.
"Playing the role" would help him speed up the digestion of the potion, so even though he didn't have much time left in the afternoon, Klein still chose to go to Halls Street to continue playing his role as a "fortune teller."
Fortunately, his diligence wasn't in vain.
Mr. Grassis, now free from the torment of liver disease, invited Klein to divine a certain investment plan.
This was no difficult task for him now, and he quickly received his 8p from the client.
However, when Klein left his usual citrine room, he learned from Miss Angelica at the front desk that he seemed to have missed another client who specifically requested a reading from him.
"I'm sorry, something came up today." Missing a potential client, Klein could only sigh regretfully. "If this gentleman still wishes for a reading next time, please tell him I usually come to the club every other day. As for the time, madam, you understand, it's in the afternoon."
"Yes, Mr. Moretti," Miss Angelica at the front desk readily agreed.
Before leaving, Klein, as usual, handed over his commission and gave the lady a small tip, pretending he received 1 sole.
Hmm, this was a necessary expense for cultivating relationships… he tried to console himself, trying to ease the sting of his heart.
Leaving the club, Klein returned to the street, pondering what he could do.
If he wanted to find information on the cases in Ducey County, submitting an application to the night watchman would be the simplest and most convenient; but the drawback was also obvious: he had no reason to do so.
Even using the excuse of writing a novel as a shield, repeatedly and deliberately mentioning it seemed too abrupt and easily aroused suspicion.
Before uncovering the witch's true intentions, Klein didn't want to complicate matters. Despite her seemingly easygoing nature, who knew what the consequences of angering her would be? He didn't dare gamble with his own and his family's lives.
Thinking this through, he realized he could actually go to the library.
Given the way things were managed in this era, libraries likely housed daily newspapers from various newspapers. He could simply select recent case reports published in the local Dixie County newspapers to begin reconstructing the witch's past—
provided those cases were indeed her doing.
Oh, and another thing, Old Neil would be taking him to the extraordinary materials market in the next couple of days. Perhaps he could buy some semi-finished products to craft spiritual amulets that could ward off enchantment or distinguish illusions.
This way, he could at least maintain a certain degree of self-control when facing the witch and wouldn't be overly influenced.
"I should also consider the amulets for Benson and Melissa… Hmm, that'll cost a lot of money…"
It seems I'll have to learn from Old Neil's style and find a way to get some materials through reimbursement…
Thinking this, Klein boarded the public carriage and gave his destination:
"Golden Phoenix District, in front of the Deville Library."
The staff member, who was about to tell him the distance and fare, withdrew his hand and kindly reminded him:
"Sir, are you going to the library? But it should be closed at this time."
Klein was taken aback, took out his pocket watch and glanced at the dial, which showed nearly six o'clock, before realizing that he had forgotten to consider the closing time of public facilities.
Concern makes one lose focus…
Klein shook his head, then gave the name of the street where his house was located, and then skillfully took out a coin worth 4 pence and handed it over.
When he returned home by carriage, Alice had not yet returned, and Benson seemed to be busy in the kitchen, so Klein looked at his sister who was doing her homework at the table.
When Melissa saw him looking over, she raised her little head and turned the pen in her hand, pointing towards the fabric sofa.
"Klein, there's a letter over there. See if it's for you."
"A letter?"
Klein walked over curiously, bending down to pick up the letter Melissa had mentioned from the low table in front of the sofa.
But the moment he touched its pitch-black envelope, Klein instinctively shivered, feeling an urge to throw it out the window.
A warning from his spirit?
"Yes, it's in the mailbox. I found it when I got home and brought it in for you." Melissa, completely oblivious to his subtle change in expression, casually said, "This shouldn't be from any of my friends. Benson said it wasn't his letter either."
"After all, we only moved a week ago, and I haven't even had time to report the new address to the company. Heh, you all know, the trade industry has been a bit tense lately."
Benson came out of the kitchen, wiping his freshly washed hands, scratching his head and smiling.
His hairline seemed to be receding at a visible rate.
During his siblings' back-and-forth conversation, Klein regained his composure and turned the letter over to the front of the wax seal. The wax seal's emblem was bright red, composed of intertwined, winding lines that inexplicably reminded him of countless coiled, forked snakes.
He held the envelope up to the living room light, examining both sides, but found no trace of ink.
In other words, the letter was neither signed nor addressed.
This letter might be addressed to Alice.
Klein had this feeling.
But the question was, who had delivered this letter to his house? Who knew Alice was hiding in the residence at No. 2 Narcissus Street?
...The witch's forces? That witch cult whose name he only knew by name?
Or some mysterious organization he didn't yet understand?
In any case, this letter, which reeked of eeriness and gave him a spiritual warning the moment he touched it, was definitely very problematic.
Klein took a deep breath, carefully put the letter away, and smiled at Melissa and Benson.
"This should be for me. Oh, right, I forgot to tell you, something came up at the company tonight, and they asked me to bring some documents over, so don't wait for me for dinner."
Melissa looked up and gave Klein, who had just returned from outside, a strange look.
"But aren't you off today?"
Girl, don't be so perceptive! He just wanted to get this "time bomb" to the night watchman as soon as possible!
Klein pretended to be nonchalant and calmly replied,
"It was an urgent notice, and I only remembered I left proof of some important document at home when I was called out."
After several explanations, he finally dispelled Melissa's doubts, and then Benson remarked:
"Looks like your generous salary comes with a lot of work, Klein. You even have to report to the company on your day off..."
For the sake of his life, there was no other way.
Klein forced a smile, rushed back upstairs, pretended to search for some so-called "important documents," and then hurriedly left. On the way, he even nervously looked around for a long time to make sure he didn't see the witch before boarding the public carriage with the strange letter in his pocket.
During the journey, Klein kept his mind focused, calmly finding reasons for his actions.
To the Night Watchers, he decided to only conceal Alice's existence, reporting the spiritual warning he received when he touched the letter and the strangeness of the envelope itself to the captain, then leaving the decision to him; as for Alice, he could claim that the letter itself was too strange, and he was worried it might cause danger, so he went out to report it to the police.
—Well, the Night Watchers team was already registered with the police station, so this wasn't exactly a lie.
Having secured his escape route, Klein felt slightly more relaxed. Suddenly, he realized he had momentarily forgotten his status as an extraordinary being, and hadn't even used divination to confirm the letter before rushing out of the house.
How rude of him… or rather, he subconsciously didn't want to linger at home, lest he run into Alice returning home that evening.
He wasn't mentally prepared to face her at all.
It's alright, it's not too late to confirm now.
Reassuring himself, Klein, taking advantage of the fact that the other passengers in the carriage weren't paying attention, took the letter from his coat pocket, untied the pendulum chain wrapped around his left sleeve, and was about to perform divination.
But when he saw the "letter" he had taken from his pocket, he froze on the spot.
What he was holding in his hand was no longer that eerie, nameless letter, but clearly a ubiquitous promotional poster!
It had blurry black and white photos printed on it, seemingly of a circus performance, with a few lines of text printed at the bottom in flashy, exaggerated font, indicating the start and time of the circus performance, as well as the ticket price.
Klein examined it closely and realized it was even an expired advertisement from last weekend!
—Why would this be?
He couldn't be mistaken; he definitely took that letter with him when he left. If something had indeed changed on his way out, replacing the letter with an expired poster on the street, then there was only one explanation.
He had encountered a supernatural event.
Some supernatural force, higher than his level, had taken the letter from him!
And the letter's whereabouts could only be—
…Oh no, Melissa and Benson, they're both home!
Klein suddenly realized his mistake, hurriedly stopped the carriage, and without even asking the toll collector for his fare back, he jumped out and ran back the way he came.
Fortunately, he realized his mistake in time; he hadn't been back in the carriage long enough to realize something was wrong, so after only a few minutes of running, Klein was back on the street in front of his house, panting heavily.
No, my physical fitness is really too poor. What if I can't even outrun someone in an accident...?
With this thought flashing through his mind, Klein barely managed to prop himself up and open the mailbox by the door.
A black letter sealed with bright red wax lay there quietly.