Phew, I finally got past the psychic level.

Klein exhaled, turned around slowly, and walked towards the door of the apartment while enjoying the tranquility of the night and the refreshing breeze.

He took out the key, inserted it, and twisted it gently, causing the black mixed with crimson to expand with a creaking sound.

Walking on the empty stairs and breathing the cold air, Klein inexplicably had the strange feeling of having a few more hours of life than others, so much so that his steps became lighter.

Click. With a similar mentality, he opened the door of his house. But before he stepped in, he saw a figure sitting quietly in the darkness in front of the desk. She had black hair bathed in red, bright brown eyes, and a pretty face. It was none other than Melissa Moretti!

“Klein, where have you been?” Melissa asked in confusion, her brows relaxed.

Without waiting for Klein to answer, she added, as if to make the cause and effect and logical relationship of the matter clear and obvious: "I just got up and went to the bathroom, and found that you were not at home."

Klein had a lot of experience in deceiving parents. He thought quickly and replied with a wry smile:

"After I woke up once, I couldn't fall asleep. I thought it would be better to exercise instead of wasting time, so I went out for a few laps. Look, I'm covered in sweat."

He took off his coat, half turned around and pointed to his back.

Melissa stood up, glanced at it indifferently, and thought for a few seconds before saying:

"Klein, you don't have to. You don't have to feel too stressed. You will definitely be able to pass the interview at Tingen University. Even if you fail, well, I mean if, you can find someone better."

I haven’t even thought about the interview. Klein nodded:

"I see."

He didn't say he had received an "offr" because he hadn't yet decided whether to go.

Melissa looked at him deeply, then suddenly turned around, trotted into the inner room, and took out a turtle-shaped object made of gears, rusty iron, springs, and clockwork.

Melissa quickly wound up the spring and placed the item on the desk.

Click-click, tap-da, the "turtle" jumped and walked rhythmically, which made people involuntarily shift their attention to it.

"When you feel upset, watching it move like this will make you feel better. I've been doing this a lot recently and it's very effective! Klein, give it a try." Melissa invited with bright eyes.

Klein did not reject his sister's kindness. He looked closely at the "turtle" and waited until it stopped before he smiled:

“Simplicity and routine really bring relaxation.”

Without waiting for Melissa to say anything, he pointed at the "turtle" and asked casually:

"You did it yourself? When did you do it? How come I don't know?"

"I made it using materials the school didn't want and things I picked up on the street. I just finished it two days ago." Melissa's expression remained normal, with the corners of her mouth curled up a little.

“That’s amazing.” Klein praised sincerely.

As a boy with poor mechanical skills, he had a lot of trouble building a four-wheel drive car when he was a child.

Melissa raised her chin slightly, her eyes slightly curved, and answered calmly:

"It's okay, it's okay."

"Excessive modesty is a bad trait." Klein chuckled. "Is this a turtle?"

The atmosphere in the room suddenly became solemn, and Melissa's voice sounded faintly like a crimson veil:

"It's a puppet."

Dolls

Klein smiled awkwardly and explained forcefully:

"The problem is the materials are still too crude."

Then he changed the subject:

"Why would you go to the bathroom in the middle of the night when there's a toilet in there? And aren't you good at sleeping through the night?"

Melissa was stunned for a moment, and after a few seconds, she opened her mouth to explain.

At this moment, a violent digestive sound gurgling came from her chest and abdomen.

"I, I'm going to go to sleep for a while!"

Bang! She grabbed the turtle-shaped "doll" and trotted back to the inner room, closing the door.

Yesterday’s dinner was too good. I ate too much. My stomach is not used to it. Klein shook his head and laughed. He slowly walked to the desk and sat silently on the chair. As the crimson moon emerged from behind the dark clouds, he quietly thought about Dunn Smith’s invitation.

Being a civilian in the Nightwatch team has obvious disadvantages:

As a time traveler and the initiator of the mysterious gathering, “The Fool” has many secrets of his own. He has long been wandering under the nose of the team of the Church of the Goddess of Night that specializes in handling supernatural events, which poses a great risk.

As long as they joined Dunn Smith and the others, their goal would definitely be to become a Beyonder, in order to cover up the benefits they gained from the “Gathering”. As a formal member, their freedom would definitely be restricted, just like civil servants had to report when they left Tingen. They couldn’t go wherever they wanted or do whatever they wanted, and would miss a lot of opportunities.

The Nighthawks are a strict organization. Once there is a mission, they can only wait for arrangements and accept orders. They cannot refuse.

There is a risk that the Beyonder will lose control;

After listing the disadvantages in his mind, Klein turned to consider the necessity and the benefits:

Judging from the encounters during the "Fortune-Transfer Ritual" and other events, he would not be the 80% lucky person that Dunn mentioned. There would inevitably be strange events happening to him in the future, which would be full of dangers. Only by becoming a Beyonder or joining the Night Watch would he be able to fight back.

If you want to become a Beyonder, you can't just rely on "gathering". The potion formula is not a big problem, but where to find the corresponding materials, how to obtain them, how to mix them, and the common sense of daily practice of Beyonders are all serious obstacles. It is impossible to ask "Justice" and "The Hanged Man" for everything and trade everything with them. This will not only damage the image of "The Fool" and make them suspicious, but also there is not enough time to discuss such trivial issues. Similarly, I can't bring them anything that they are interested in.

In addition, more material exchanges will leave traces of real identities, and when that happens, it will be very troublesome if "online disputes" turn into "offline conflicts";

By joining the "Nightwatchers", one will inevitably be able to access the common sense and relevant channels of the mysterious world, and accumulate enough corresponding connections. Only with this as a fulcrum can one leverage the "Gathering" and gain the greatest benefits from "Justice" and "The Hanged Man", which in turn improves the state of reality and gains more resources, forming a virtuous circle.

Of course, you can also go and join the "Psychological Alchemy Society" mentioned by Dunn, an organization suppressed and besieged by major churches. However, if you become a member of them, you will also lose your freedom and even live in fear all the time. The more important problem is that you don't know where to find them. Even if you get the corresponding information from the "Hanged Man", it will be life-threatening if you contact them rashly.

Becoming a civilian also provides a buffer and an opportunity to exit;

Small seclusion is hiding in the wild, medium seclusion is hiding in the city, great seclusion is hiding in the court, and the identity of a night watchman may be a better protective color;

In the future, when you become a senior official of the arbitration tribunal, who would have thought that you are a heretic and the mastermind behind a secret organization?

The morning light shone, the crimson faded, and looking at the golden sky, Klein made up his mind.

Seek out Dunn Smith today and become a Nightwatchman!

"You didn't sleep?" At this time, Melissa got up again, pushed the door open, and was surprised to see her brother stretching in an ungraceful manner.

"Think about something." Klein smiled, feeling relaxed.

Melissa hesitated for a moment and said:

"When I encounter a problem, I will list the good and bad aspects one by one. After listing them, I will compare them and get the 'hint' of what I should do."

"Good habit. I do the same." Klein replied with a smile.

Melissa looked relaxed. Without saying anything more, she took the large yellowed piece of paper and toiletries and went to the public bathroom.

After breakfast, when his sister left, Klein did not rush out. Instead, he took a nap in a good mood because, according to his understanding, almost all taverns were closed in the morning.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, he used a small brush and handkerchief to smooth out the wrinkles and remove the dirt on his hat, making it neat again, and then went out in a formal suit, as if he was going to an interview.

Beswick Street was a bit far away, and Klein was afraid of missing the night watchman's "working hours", so he did not walk there, but waited for the public carriage to arrive at the intersection of Iron Cross Street.

In the Kingdom of Loen, there are two types of public carriages: trackless and tracked. The former is pulled by two horses and can seat about twenty people including the roof of the carriage. It has only a general route and no specific stops. It operates flexibly and stops at will unless it is full.

The latter was operated by a railway carriage company, which first laid a device similar to rails on the main streets. Horses walked on the inside and the wheels turned on top, which was easy and labor-saving, so it could pull larger double-decker carriages and carry nearly fifty passengers. The only problem was that the route and stations were fixed, so it could not go to many places and was rather rigid.

About ten minutes later, the sound of wheels hitting the tracks came closer and closer, and a double-decker carriage stopped in front of the Iron Cross Street station.

"Go to Beswick Street," Klein said to the driver.

"You have to go to Champagne Street, but once you're there, it only takes about ten minutes to walk to Beswick Street," the driver explained the route.

“Then let’s go to Champagne Street.” Klein nodded in agreement.

"Over 4 kilometers, 4 pence." A fair-faced young man next to the driver spread out his hands.

He is the staff member responsible for collecting money.

"Okay." Klein took out four copper pennies from his pocket and handed them to the other party.

He stepped onto the carriage and found that there were not many passengers, and there were still several empty seats even on the first floor.

“I only have pennies on me. I have to walk back.” Klein pressed his hat and sat down steadily.

Most of the men and women on this floor were sitting in formal attire, but some were wearing work clothes and reading newspapers leisurely. However, almost no one talked and it was quite quiet.

Klein closed his eyes to gather his strength, not paying attention to the comings and goings of the passengers around him.

Stop after stop, he finally heard the words "Champagne Street".

After getting off the carriage, he asked along the way and soon arrived at Beswick Street, where he saw a pub with a brown and yellow hound logo painted on it.

Klein stretched out his right hand and pushed hard. The heavy door slowly opened, and noisy sounds and impetuous heat waves rushed in.

Although it was still afternoon, there were already quite a few customers in the pub. Some of them were temporary workers, looking for opportunities here and waiting to be hired, while others had nothing to do and numbed themselves with alcohol.

The tavern was quite dim, with two large iron cages standing in the middle. The lower third of the cages was buried deep in the ground, leaving no space. People gathered around them with wooden wine glasses in their hands, sometimes discussing loudly, sometimes cursing and laughing.

Klein took a curious look and found two dogs locked inside. One was black and white, similar to the Huskies on Earth, and the other was completely black, with shiny fur, strong and fierce.

"Want to place a bet? Doug has won eight games in a row!" A short man wearing a brown soft hat came over and pointed at the black dog.

Betting? Klein was stunned for a moment, then realized:

"Dog fighting?"

At Khoy University, the noble students and children of wealthy families would always ask themselves with contempt and curiosity whether the rude workers and unemployed hooligans liked to participate in boxing and gambling in the tavern? In addition to boxing and cards, did gambling also include cruel and bloody events such as cockfighting and dogfighting?

The short man sneered:

"Sir, we are civilized people and will not do such an unseemly thing."

At this point, he muttered, "And last year a law was enacted to ban these things."

"So what are you betting on?" Klein was curious.

"Let's see who is the better 'hunter'." As soon as the short man finished speaking, there was a commotion in the field.

He turned his head and took a look, then waved his hand excitedly:

"This game has started, you can't place bets anymore, wait for the next one."

Hearing this, Klein stood on tiptoe, raised his head, and looked far away. He saw two strong men each dragging a sack. They came to the iron cage, opened the "prison door", and dumped the contents inside.

They were grey, disgusting animals!

Klein carefully identified them and found that they were actually rats, dozens or even hundreds of them!

Because the iron cage was deep underground with no space, the mice ran around but couldn't escape.

At this time, as the cage door closed, the chains of the two dogs were untied.

"Woof!" The black dog pounced over and bit a mouse to death with one bite.

The black and white dog looked confused at first, then excitedly started playing with the mice.

The people around were either holding up their glasses, staring intently, or shouting:

"Bite it to death! Kill it!"

"Doug Doug!"

Klein came to his senses, and the corners of his mouth twitched.

The gambling project here is to bet on which dog catches more mice

Maybe you can also bet on a few specific ones

No wonder there are people buying live rats on Iron Cross Street.

It's really unique.

Klein shook his head and stepped back with a smile. He walked around the edge of the bar and came to the front of the bar.

"New face?" The bartender looked up at him as he wiped the glass. "Rye beer is 1p a glass, Enmat beer is 2p, Southwell beer is 4p, or would you like a glass of single malt brewed by Longch?"

"I'm looking for Mr. Wright." Klein said bluntly.

The bartender whistled and called to the side:

"Old man, someone is looking for you."

"Um, who is it?" A vague voice came out, and a drunk old man stood up behind the bar.

He rubbed his eyes and looked at Klein:

"Young man, you're looking for me?"

"Mr. Wright, I want to hire a team of mercenaries to carry out the mission." Klein replied according to Dunn's instructions.

"Mercenary team? Do you live in adventure stories? There is no such thing anymore!" the bartender interrupted and laughed.

Wright was silent for a few seconds and said:

"Who told you to look for it here?"

“Dunn, Dunn Smith.” Klein answered truthfully.

Wright immediately laughed:

"I see. In fact, the mercenary team still exists. It just changed its form and changed its name to one that is more in line with today's society. You can find one on the second floor of No. 6 Zouteland Street."

“Thank you.” Klein thanked him sincerely and turned to squeeze out of the bar.

Before he left, the drinkers gathered around him suddenly fell silent, leaving only a murmur:

"Doug lost"

"Lose"

Klein shook his head in amusement, left quickly, and asked for directions to nearby Zouteland Street.

"0, 2, 4 here." He counted the house numbers and walked into the stairs.

Turning the corner and going up the stairs, he saw the vertical sign and the current name of the so-called mercenary team:

"Blackthorn Security Company."