"Reintroducing myself. Evernight Goddess's Nighthawk, Dunn Smith."
Klein stayed quiet, letting the weight of the words settle.
'Nighthawk... Evernight Goddess... So that's what "The Hanged Man" meant about joining a church to become a Beyonder?'
"That dream," Klein suddenly said, tension rising. "Were you manipulating it?"
Dunn placed his top hat back on, the brim shadowing his eyes. "No. I merely entered and provided guidance." His tone was steady, almost gentle.
Klein frowned. 'If I'd dreamed of Earth instead... who knows what would've happened.'
But something didn't add up. He had been lucid—almost too lucid.
'He only saw what I allowed him to see? That's either the transmigration or the luck ritual... maybe both.'
"Mr. Smith," Klein said slowly, "do you believe I've really lost my memory?"
"I do." Dunn gave a simple nod. "But you still need confirmation from the expert. Certain matters demand verification."
'Fair enough.'
"And," Dunn added, voice dropping, "you are our last lead regarding the notebook."
"...What?" Klein's breath tightened.
"At the scene of the suicide, the notebook was gone. Welch and Naya are dead. That leaves you."
"I understand," Klein muttered.
'How did I forget about the notebook?'
"Come," Dunn said, already turning. "The expert is waiting at Welch's place."
"Alright," Klein sighed.
They walked the hallway until Dunn paused and looked back, gray eyes unreadable.
"And Mr. Moretti—if you feel tempted to try anything... remember. In the night, I am far stronger than you imagine."
The quiet threat slithered into Klein's spine like a cold wind.
'In the night...' Klein repeated inwardly.
Outside, they entered Dunn's waiting carriage, seating themselves opposite each other.
"At the end of the dream," Dunn said lightly, "when you ran… I'd have done the same. Flee to the Southern Continent, start over."
Klein stiffened. "Y-Yeah…"
Dunn had read him perfectly.
…
Hooves clacked against cobblestones, filling the silence.
"Mr. Smith, we've arrived," the driver called.
Dunn stepped down. "Before we go in—the expert is widely known as a spirit medium. But those truly close to her know she's a true Spirit Medium."
'A true Spirit Medium…'
They entered through bronze gates, crossed a garden, and stopped before a two-story bungalow.
Before Dunn could knock, a voice floated out, soft as drifting smoke. "Come in, gentlemen."
The living room was lit only by a candle with a blue flame, turning the room into a quiet ocean of shadows. A woman sat on the sofa, wrapped in a hooded black robe, her makeup shimmering faintly in the strange light.
"Good evening, madam," Klein said with a slight bow.
"Daly," Dunn introduced, "this is Klein Moretti. See if you can draw anything from him."
"Please, sit," Daly said, gesturing to the lone armchair.
Klein sat, nerves coiled tight. 'My future depends on this.'
Daly removed two glass vials from her belt. "Don't worry. What I'll use won't hurt. It only loosens your emotions… lets you indulge."
'That phrasing sounds so wrong.'
"Ignore her wording," Dunn said. "She prefers corpses over men anyway."
Daly clicked her tongue with a teasing glance. "You make me sound awful."
She uncorked the first vial, letting a few drops fall onto the flame. It deepened, its blue glow shimmering. "Amantha. Means tranquility in Hermes."
A cool, soothing aroma filled the room.
The second vial opened. "This one's the Eye of the Spirit."
Another drop. The flame jumped. A dizzy, intoxicating fragrance washed over Klein.
His vision blurred.
"This helps me commune with the spirit world," Daly whispered. "Also… it's pleasantly bewitching."
Everything began to sway. Colors sharpened unnaturally. Sounds folded over each other.
'Feels like the luck ritual… just without the headache.'
Daly's voice drifted through the haze. "The mind is an island. Memory is the surface. Beneath lies the ocean. Beyond that, the boundless sky of the spirit world.
"Even if the island is wiped clean… the sea remembers."
Her words wrapped around him like silk.
Klein trembled, letting confusion show. "No… I can't remember… it's all gone…"
Daly pressed deeper, but Klein's mind kept his true thoughts locked away, steady beneath a gray fog.
Finally, she sighed. "That's enough. You may leave."
The haze dissipated.
Klein blinked, straightening.
"So," he tried awkwardly, "did I pass?"
"Take it that way," Dunn said.
He turned to Daly. "Did you check Welch and Naya? Their bodies?"
"I did. They really killed themselves. Whatever caused it erased every trace."
She stood, suddenly tired. "I need rest."
The blue flame dimmed to red.
…
Outside, Dunn exhaled a faint mist.
"Congratulations. You can go home. And don't tell anyone what happened tonight."
"Of course." Klein hesitated. "Shouldn't we check for… lingering issues?"
"If Daly didn't mention any, you're fine." Dunn shrugged.
Klein still looked troubled.
"Relax," Dunn added. "Most people in your situation walk away perfectly normal. We're not your babysitters. But if you're still anxious, join us as civilian staff. We'll keep an eye on you.
"Or…" His tone shifted slightly.
"You could become a Beyonder."
…
When Klein returned home, he noticed a silhouette at his desk.
Melissa.
"Klein. Where were you?"
"Couldn't sleep, so I went for a run." He turned to show his sweat-dampened shirt.
Melissa sighed. "When I got back, you were fast asleep. I couldn't cook the mutton stew."
'I really forgot about that.'
"It's fine. You can make it tomorrow."
"You don't have to push yourself so hard," she murmured. "I'm sure you'll pass the Tingen University interview."
'Interview? I haven't even thought about that…'
"I get it," Klein said softly.
After goodnights, Klein sat at his desk.
Dunn had explained the conditions of joining civilian staff.
He would lose freedom. No leaving Tingen without permission.
But he'd be safe. And paid decently.
And as a transmigrator and The Fool… being close to the church was both dangerous and useful.
Either he'd get exposed, or he'd gain the perfect cover.
'Hmm… I've made my decision.'
…
At two, the next afternoon, Klein arrived at a pub—The Hound—after a carriage ride, dressed neatly.
The noise hit him immediately—heat, sweat, and ale. Two iron cages in the center hosted dogs facing off against hundreds of rats.
'Rat-baiting… people in this era need hobbies that don't involve rabies.'
He approached the counter. "Mr. Wright?"
"Yeah. What's it to you?" The bartender barely looked at him.
'Unnecessary attitude, sir.'
"I need mercenaries. A small team."
Mr. Wright leaned in, eyes sharp. "Who sent you?"
"Dunn Smith."
The bartender glanced around, then smirked. "Alright. Go to 36 Zouteland Street. You'll find the squad there."
Klein thanked him and left.
…
A brass sign read: Blackthorn Security Company.
'Subtle as a brick through glass.' Klein laughed.
He knocked.
Silence.
He tried again.
Still nothing.
'Spectacular first impression.'
He pushed the door open. Inside was a cozy living-room-disguised-as-office. A girl with chestnut hair sat behind a desk.
Klein tapped the desk lightly.
She jumped upright and snapped open a newspaper as if it were a shield. "The steam train to Constant City starts operating today!"
She peeked over it. "Uh!—Hello! I'm Rozanne. Who are you?"
"Hello. I'm Klein Moretti. Dunn Smith invited me."
"Oh! Follow me."
Down a hallway, Klein noticed the inspector from yesterday—Leonard Mitchell—through a cracked door. They nodded in greeting. Leonard added a cheeky smile.
'Definitely a poet… probably the annoying kind.'
Rozanne stopped. "Captain's up ahead."
"You're not coming?"
"No… I'm scared of him. Don't know why. He's kind though. Like a father."
Klein snorted. "Everyone's scared of fathers."
Rozanne laughed despite herself. "You're right!."
…
Klein walked on alone.
He passed a towering gate—Chanis Gate.
Then a normal door.
Duty Room.
Knock knock.
"Come in," Dunn said.
This office actually looked official.
"Take a seat," Dunn said. "Are you sure about joining?"
"Yes."
"Good." Dunn slid over a document. "Five-year term. Two pounds a week."
Klein glanced down. "Awwa County Police Department, Seventh Unit… But the sign outside says Blackthorn Security Company."
"We use covers," Dunn said. "We're the Seventh Unit. We handle paranormal incidents. Matters of the Evernight Church.
"And now you're part of us." He extended a hand.
Klein shook it. "Should I call you captain now?"
"Yes." Dunn smiled—briefly. Then the expression faded into shadow.
"But I need to warn you. Becoming a Beyonder comes with the risk of losing control."
The air turned heavy… cold… suffocating.
Dunn's gray eyes dimmed with memories he'd rather not recall.