The boy swept a quick glance at Klein, hesitated for a second, and decided not to call for help — the man ahead looked pretty weak, asking him for help would only get him hurt.
So he bolted straight past Klein. The thugs, however, turned a hostile glare on Klein. "What are you gawking at? Piss off!"
And then, without ceremony, one shoved him.
"..."
Local gangs have zero manners.
Even a man of clay has three points of fire in him, let alone the great Fool.
Klein immediately flicked his cane and knocked the reaching hand aside. Before the thug could work up a proper rage, he had his police badge out: "Police. Who are you, and why are you chasing that boy? Is this string of murders connected to you?"
They froze.
The one who'd gone to shove Klein looked furious but caught himself — and then saw Klein produce a revolver and point it at him.
"Misunderstanding!"
The lead man immediately threw his hands up. "The kid stole something from us. We were just catching a thief."
"Funny how it looked more like you were going to kill him."
"Nothing like that — killing people is illegal. Anyway, forget it, not worth your time, officer."
He waved the others along and they cleared out fast.
Klein watched their backs disappear, then turned around — and there was the boy, in his worn-out newsboy cap, standing at the mouth of the alley watching him.
When he met Klein's gaze, the boy took his cap off and gave a bow: "Thank you, officer."
Then he turned and ran.
Klein put away the revolver, feeling quietly pleased: "That was… at least a good thing to do."
......
Meanwhile, at Caesar's restaurant.
Vincent had barely returned to reality before the Invisible Servant popped out of the spirit world with a letter for Bernadette. She opened it, glanced at it, and stood up. "Let's go see Stephen."
"Wait — usually he's the one who comes to see you."
"He says he found something. Wants me to come look."
"Where?"
"Derlyn's Law Offices."
"???"
Bernadette was already heading for the door. "The newly renovated bar."
Right. In the original novel, Medici had possessed the unfortunate Raft Pound, and under his "ancestor's" direction, Raft had done things he'd never have done in canon — renting the Derlyn Law Offices building and turning it into a bar. When they'd tried hypnosis and channelling on him, neither had revealed what exactly the "ancestor" was after. Stephen arranging to meet there could be pure coincidence, or it could mean he'd actually found something.
Bernadette didn't jump through the spirit world; she flagged down a horse cab instead. Vincent guessed she probably wanted to talk on the way there.
Sure enough, the moment the cab started moving she asked inwardly: "You seemed quite interested in the 'Angel of Time' from the God-Forsaken Land?"
"Not that interested, really," Vincent said casually. "Just a bit curious — if the 'Angel of Time' Little Sun described is the Amon you mentioned in those files before, why doesn't He match the description at all? That kind of entity doesn't look like someone who could properly steward a city and be loved and remembered by its people."
Bernadette said coolly: "And for that, you're willing to trade formulas and materials with 'Sun'?"
"Well, yeah." Vincent thought it over and added: "According to your earlier speculation, Mr. Fool is very likely the true god of the Clairvoyant pathway. Amon is an angel of the adjacent Marauder pathway… and Mr. Fool just happened to recruit the City of Silver's Sun, who comes from a place that worships Amon, into the Tarot Club. Doesn't that suggest… a certain plan might be in motion?"
Of course — Vincent was fully making this up for Klein's benefit.
Bernadette was silent for a few seconds and didn't press further. Instead she said: "Amon is extremely dangerous. Not only because of the Marauder pathway's terrifying power and scope, but because His avatars are spread across the entire world. You never know when a random pedestrian on the street, or a bug on a page, might actually be Him."
"Zaratul once told Father frankly: even at Sequence 2, he was unwilling to face even a demigod-level Amon avatar. Whether you can win or lose is secondary — the real problem is the moment you spot one Amon, there could be countless more surrounding you."
"So I'd strongly recommend you set aside any curiosity about Him. You really don't want to attract His attention."
"My curiosity stays strictly within the Tarot Club," Vincent said. "The moment we leave that space, I'll pretend I've never heard of him."
"Good."
The cab clattered along, left the North District, entered Cherwood District, rolled on a while more, and stopped in front of the newly renovated bar.
Last time they'd visited, it had been crawling with construction workers, evidence of work-in-progress everywhere. Now it was completely transformed — even just from the doorway you could see tasteful, unusual décor inside.
They'd barely reached the entrance when a tall girl in a maid's uniform came to meet them, smiling lightly: "Welcome, sir. We haven't officially opened yet, but you're welcome to come in and experience the atmosphere."
Bernadette gave a small nod and stepped inside. One sweep of the room: not many customers. A few tall, fair-featured girls in maid uniforms glided through the bar. The customers barely seemed interested in their drinks.
"Heh."
Bernadette let out a cold, quiet laugh inside.
"What… what's up?"
"Maid bars. Father 'invented' this too."
No wonder Raft Pound was so "creative." Turns out Emperor Roselle invented the whole concept.
A quick scan found Stephen — slouched by a window table, wine glass in hand, eyeing the maids with lazy appreciation.
Bernadette walked straight over and sat down across from him.
Stephen's brow furrowed. "Oi! Someone's sitting here, mate."
"It's me, Stephen."
He did a double-take, then immediately swapped to a theatrical grin: "Oh, my lady — I've been absolutely dying to see you."
"Tell me what you found."
"Right."
Stephen's expression became serious. "I've realised the bar's owner — Raft Pound — seems to have some kind of connection to the evil spirit in my family's ancestral tomb. And the reason he opened this bar was on the spirit's instructions."
"Already knew that," Bernadette said flatly.
"Ah — really?" Stephen paused, then figured it out: "Oh, of course — you'd been watching this place the whole time and investigated the moment someone rented it, right?"
"Have you found out why he opened this bar? A Fourth Epoch evil spirit pushing a down-and-out Tudor descendant to open a bar — I can't see the logic."
Stephen thought it over. "It seems to be… to wait for someone."
"???"
"It involves some kind of prophecy or divination, I think. Using this bar, he can wait for someone who's very important to him."
"Who?"
He shrugged. "That I don't know. Give me a little more time."
Vincent immediately turned it over in his mind: Who did Medici want to wait for in the original story?
Looking at the outcome: Ince Zangwill released Him, and Medici gradually took over Ince's body, recovering His strength piece by piece.
But what did opening a bar have to do with Ince Zangwill?
Hmm — wait. Medici is a Hunter-pathway angel. What divination or prophecy ability does He have?
He was still dredging through his memories of the original when the bar's bell chimed over the entrance and a man walked in — white shirt, black waistcoat, black trousers, slightly too-long hair that gave him a carelessly roguish look. But his face was strikingly handsome.
Leonard.
Compared to the original story, Leonard wasn't assigned to the Red Gloves — he'd been transferred to Backlund's Nighthawk team instead.
Meanwhile, Stephen seemed to sense something. He turned his head to look over. A seemingly involuntary hand drifted to cover his right eye. A hint of something — amusement? — crossed his expression.
To be continued…
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