Klein's hair stood on end as five white-knuckle fingers gripped his wrist in a cold and painful manner. He subconsciously pulled his hand back, frantically trying to retreat.

Feeling heavy, Klein pulled his forearm with all his strength.

thump!

The pale, naked body was pulled askew and fell from the long table to the ground.

However, the cold, pale fingers still tightly gripped Klein's wrist.

Klein lost his ability to think for a moment, and his mind was filled with thoughts of drawing his gun.

However, because he couldn't retract his dominant hand, he threw away the black cane and tried several times but failed to successfully take out the revolver from the gun pouch under his armpit.

At this moment, the corpse's eyelids suddenly lifted up, revealing a pair of unfocused blue eyes.

He moved his mouth and murmured:

"Honakis Honakis Honakis"

After three sounds, Klein, who was in a panic, felt the fingers holding his wrist begin to loosen, and then they fell down weakly.

The clown in tuxedo closed his eyes again, as if nothing had happened just now.

If it weren't for the pale corpse lying on the stone floor, Klein might have thought he was experiencing an illusion.

He staggered back a few steps, feeling that many parts of his body were trembling from excessive shock and fear.

Klein panted heavily and slowly regained his ability to think. He looked at the corpse on the ground with caution and fear.

He took off his revolver and cautiously stepped out of the room. After making sure that the body was no longer moving, he glanced at his wrist holding the gun.

There were five deep, dark red fingerprints, silently telling what had happened before.

Klein calmed down a lot, and kept repeating a curse word in his mind:

Damn it, I’m scared to death!

After breathing for about ten seconds, he began to picture objects in his mind to quickly calm himself down.

Thinking carefully, Klein "replayed" what happened just now frame by frame.

Although he still didn't understand the reason why the Tuxedo Clown "transformed into a corpse", he keenly grasped the key point, which was the "Honakis" that the other party kept muttering!

"Honakis again." Klein frowned. "The Antigonus family's notes record the Kingdom of Night in the Honakis Mountains. When I heard sounds that I shouldn't have heard during meditation and spiritual vision, I also heard the term 'Honakis'. And now this dead man has emphasized the word 'Honakis' in my ears again in a strange way. Could it be that the answers to many questions are in the Honakis Mountains? Maybe, there are huge dangers there. For example, a certain evil god is sealed in the mountains and is seeking to escape through similar 'enticements'."

As his thoughts raced, Klein entered the room cautiously and touched the body a few times to confirm that the person was dead.

He thought that he must not let the "corpse collector" Frye see the mess he had made here, so he plucked up his courage and carried the body back to the long table by hand and shoulder.

Throughout the entire process, not only was Klein on edge, fearing that the slightest movement could strain his nerves at any time, but he also felt extremely nauseous from the cold contact between the corpse and his own skin.

After completing this task with difficulty, he remembered why he approached the corpse before, so he once again focused his gaze on the wrist of the Tuxedo Clown, looking at the strange mark.

The brand fell off at some point and condensed into a blood ball with a hint of blue.

The blood cell was only the size of a thumb, floating quietly in the air in a posture that violated the laws of physics.

"What is this?" Klein whispered, not daring to touch it rashly again.

He had never thought of keeping this strange blood ball for himself. Firstly, he had no idea whether it was good or bad. Secondly, he believed that Frye, who had carefully examined the corpse, would have discovered the brand on the wrist long ago and might even know what the strange blood ball was.

Even if Frye doesn't know, handing it over to the captain and letting the entire Nighthawks team explore and study it is obviously much better than me trying randomly, Klein thought.

Being in an organization, individuals must know how to make the most of the organization's power.

Klein waited tensely for a few minutes before he saw Frye, a man with black hair, blue eyes, and thin lips, return to the room.

His eyes were instantly attracted by the strange blood ball, and he asked the same question that Klein had asked himself before:

"What's this?"

“I don’t know.” Klein shook his head honestly and described what happened without hiding anything.

"The brand falls off and turns into blood cells." Frye nodded as if thinking, "The bodies of Beyonders always undergo some strange changes."

He raised his head, looked at Klein and said:

"Go and ask the captain to come over and tell him what the corpse is whispering about."

“Okay.” Klein had wanted to leave this place a long time ago.

"You don't have to come with the captain." Frye added, "I don't think you will like what you see next."

As he spoke, he picked up the silver-white scalpel next to him.

Klein nodded with lingering fear:

"That's exactly what I was hoping for."

He took his cane, put on his hat, turned to Chanis Gate, and saw Captain Dunn, who was no longer depressed, in the guard room.

Dunn listened to his narration calmly and nodded slightly.

"I will report this matter to the Holy Temple and let them handle it. Maybe they will send someone to the main peak of the Honachis Mountains to take a look."

Klein hummed. Seeing that only the captain and the Sleepless Kornley were in the guard room, he casually asked:

"Have Mr. Al and the others gone to rest?"

Dunn nodded and said:

"Al and Borgia are at the Church of Santa Selina, and Lorota should be looking for a cafe."

"Café? Ms. Lorota's injury should not have healed yet, right?" Klein asked in surprise.

Dunn rubbed his eyebrows and smiled.

"Lorota has three hobbies: coffee, desserts and maids. She said these three things are necessary to speed up recovery."

“Maid?” Klein asked blankly.

Does Ms. Lorota have some kind of fetish?

Dunn shook his head helplessly:

"She likes maids. Yes, that's right. And she likes maids with big breasts."

"She's such a strange person." Klein didn't know what expression to use to deal with it.

Dunn didn't delay any longer and walked out of the guardhouse. Klein looked at his back and waited quietly for him to turn around.

At the same time, he saw from the corner of his eye that the "Insomniac" Cohen took out his pocket watch and turned it on.

Three, two, one. As soon as Klein finished counting silently, Dunn stopped, half turned around and said:

"I forgot one more thing, Klein. You've been through a lot today. You'll definitely feel tired after relaxing. You don't need to stay here this afternoon. Go back and have a good rest. Tomorrow, submit the application and list the losses in detail."

"Well, don't worry about killing the Beyonder. If you kill him, you will save more people."

“Actually, I’m much better now.” Klein exhaled silently.

Dunn nodded slightly, and just as he was about to turn around, he suddenly tapped his forehead and said:

"Also, I have given the portrait of the Extraordinary Person to Leonard, asking him and the police department to be responsible for the follow-up investigation. I believe that the Extraordinary Person will definitely ride in a carriage in Tingen City, enjoy food, and definitely have a place to live."

"Everywhere you go, you will leave traces. What Emperor Roselle said is indeed very reasonable."

“Yes.” Klein replied woodenly.

After the captain left, he also left the duty room and walked slowly to the second floor.

On the way, he suddenly thought of something, and inexplicably felt a little more fearful:

"Tuxedo Clown claims that the Secret Order has mastered the sequence path corresponding to the 'Fortune Teller'. Even if this is an exaggeration, they don't actually have the high-sequence formula, but they certainly have enough low-sequence formulas."

"That is to say, they have quite a few fortune tellers."

"Will the divination reveal that I was the one who killed the Tuxedo Clown, and will I be able to take revenge in secret?"

"If you can't deal with the Nighthawks, you can't deal with me, a 'Fortune Teller' who has no direct means of defeating the enemy."

Klein stopped on the stairs and thought about this question seriously. He soon realized that he was worrying for nothing.

"First, the Conclave has no idea who the Nighthawks are."

"Second, even if they know one or two, it definitely does not include civilian staff like me."

"Third, in this case, unless you are a 'prophet', it is impossible to predict who the murderer is."

He breathed a sigh of relief, left Blackthorn Security Company, and took a public carriage back to Daffodil Street.

Although he had eaten nothing at noon, he still lacked an appetite.

Klein entered the bedroom, took off his torn suit and half-high silk hat, then lay down on the bed and tried to take a nap.

His mind was still active, and he couldn't seem to relax, but what repeated in his mind was no longer the scene of shooting Tuxedo Clown, but the scene of himself moving the corpse, and the creepy touch.

He felt less uncomfortable than his first murder, but more nauseous, with lumps forming in his stomach just thinking about it.

"Perhaps this is Frye's purpose. He hopes that I can overcome the psychological shadow by looking at the corpse. However, the previous psychological shadow is gone, and a new psychological shadow has appeared." Klein laughed at himself, and his spirit relaxed.

He fell asleep without knowing when, and when he woke up, his stomach was rumbling.

"I think I can eat a whole cow!" Klein whispered, and saw the sun setting outside the window and the sky burning.

After changing into some old but comfortable home clothes, he quickly walked to the first floor, and before he had time to think about what to make for dinner, he heard the door open.

Melissa thought with the corners of his mouth slightly raised.

Since she started taking the stagecoach, my sister no longer comes home so late.

The key turned, the door opened, and Melissa walked in with a bag of books and stationery.

She looked towards the kitchen door and said:

"Klein, there's a letter for you. It's from your mentor."

A letter from my mentor? Oh, I wrote to him and asked him about the history of the main peak of Honachis. Klein was stunned for a moment, then he remembered.

ps: Second update, please vote for recommendation