Lord of the Mysteries (P1)

Chapter 117: Contact

Daxter Guderian, a doctor of the Greenhill Mental Asylum...

Klein silently repeated what the detective had said and started to think about the ways he could interact with this doctor whom he suspected to be a Spectator from the Psychology Alchemists.

He didn't want to take too much of a risk on this matter. He didn't want the Nighthawks to discover that he was problematic. He didn't want to lose the life he had now over a mere exchange of information and resources.

Furthermore, this person was most probably a Spectator. Anyone who hadn't undergone special training wouldn't be able to hide their motives and thoughts from a person like that.

I'll get a proxy, making me appear a little more mysterious? No, the more people involved, the easier it is for there to be problems... Yes... perhaps I can hide the truth within the truth. I'll let that doctor know of my thoughts and feelings through my expression and body language, but not the whole truth...

As Detective Henry described Daxter Guderian, Klein thought about what methods he could use to minimize risk without affecting the results he wanted.

Slowly, he found inspiration in a detective film he had once seen.

Well, I can try that, but I'll have to practice it repeatedly... Klein nodded inwardly before directing his full concentration on what Detective Henry had to say.

Cough... Henry cleared his throat and said, "We are still working on the request involving the red chimney. You should know that there are many buildings in Tingen that have similar characteristics. Of course, it would be much easier if you could provide us with more clues."

Klein laughed dryly.

"I wouldn't have had to make the request if I had more clues."

Honestly, this long investigation had depressed him, for the person behind the scenes had obviously noticed Klein's divinations and had more than enough time to find another hideout.

Thus, all he could do was hope that he could find relevant clues from the information of the tenants.

And that alone cost seven pounds... Just the thought of it made him feel the pinch... Klein grabbed his cane and left after Detective Henry finished his report.

...

At twenty minutes to nine on a Saturday morning, in an office of the Greenhill Mental Asylum.

Daxter Guderian, who was wearing gold-rimmed spectacles, removed his jacket and hat and hung them on the clothes rack.

He had just picked up his tin of coffee powder when he heard knocking on the door.

"Please come in," Daxter said casually.

The half-closed door opened, and a young man wearing a black windbreaker entered.

Daxter didn't recognize the person that walked in, so he asked, puzzled, "Good morning, you are?"

Klein closed the door, took off his hat, and pressed it against his chest before bowing.

"Good morning, Doctor Daxter, please forgive me for taking the liberty to visit without any warning. I am Probationary Inspector Klein Moretti of the Awwa Police Department. These are my identification documents and badge."

"Inspector?" Daxter muttered softly as he received Klein's identification documents and badge.

"Special Operations Department..." He looked up slowly, his eyes calm, as if he was scrutinizing something.

Short black hair, pupils slightly darker than brown, a scholarly aura, no ill intent at the moment...

Daxter returned the items and pointed to the chair on the other side of the table.