Lord of Mysteries: Starting As A Reader

Fraud? Miss Hazel, why would you ask me about that? Do I look like a con artist? Sure, I adopted the surname "Moriarty," but isn't that supposed to signify "high intelligence" crime? Well... I guess fraud can count as a high-intelligence crime too.

Klein chuckled inwardly at his own self-deprecating humor. After regaining composure, he surmised Hazel's question might be related to her need to "play" her role. It made sense—she was a wealthy young lady who likely had little exposure to the intricacies of fraud.

But is she a Swindler, the Sequence 8 of the Marauder pathway? Where did she even acquire her formula? And more importantly, does she know where I might find any mystical items capable of stealing supernatural abilities?

His thoughts raced as he carefully framed his response. "Miss Macht," he said with a smile, "what sort of fraud are you curious about?"

Hazel, her large, bright eyes shining with curiosity, tilted her head. "Sherlock, you can call me Hazel. And I didn't realize fraud came in so many types. Are there different kinds?"

"Alright, Hazel," Klein replied, capitalizing on the opening. "Then you'll need to call me Sherlock. And yes, fraud has many kinds—different strategies depending on whether the target is a commoner, a middle-class professional, a wealthy merchant, or even nobility."

"Wow, it's that complex?" Hazel's brows furrowed briefly in concentration. "Can you give me some examples?"

Before Klein could answer, Hazel opened her wallet and pulled out five crisp 10 pounds notes, handing them to him. "Here's your fee," she added with a sly grin.

Klein marveled at her generosity—50 pounds wasn't as grand as Justice Audrey's lavish offers, but it was still substantial. However, he shook his head with a polite smile. "Hazel, those examples aren't worth 50 pounds. Besides, there's something I'd like to ask you in return. How about we call it even?"

Hazel hesitated for a moment, her keen eyes scanning him. Then, she asked, "What do you want to know?"

"Do you know of any mystical items capable of stealing supernatural abilities?" Klein asked, his voice steady and deliberate.

Given his tenuous status as an unofficially recognized investigator with ties to law enforcement, Klein felt relatively safe revealing this level of interest in the Marauder pathway. After all, someone like Hazel likely had better connections to such items.

Her gaze sharpened as she studied him closely. Though she refrained from exposing his knowledge of the Marauder pathway, her response carried a hint of calm defiance. "I used to have one," she admitted. "But it was confiscated by the Storm Church. It's now a Sealed Artifact, classified as 2-78."

Confiscated? Why didn't the Earth Mother Church intervene? Klein was taken aback. He'd heard whispers in the Tarot Club about incidents involving a "Marauder" near the headquarters of The Daily Observer. Yet, he hadn't pieced together that Hazel might have been involved.

Hazel noted his reaction but chose not to elaborate on her past. Instead, she pushed the 50 pounds back toward him, her voice steady as she said, "Since I couldn't help you, take the money. Also, I'd like to hire you for another task—escort me while I observe a fraud in action."

This time, Klein accepted the money, slipping the bills into his wallet. Clearing his throat, he began recounting cases of fraud, drawing on his knowledge from his past life: law and crime programs, news stories, and online anecdotes.

He described scams ranging from small-scale swindles to intricate cons involving fake investment schemes. One case he highlighted was Lanrous' infamous fraud in Tingen—using false information to establish a steel company and swindling 10,000 pounds. Naturally, he omitted the supernatural elements.

Hazel was enthralled. Her privileged upbringing had shielded her from such treachery, and Klein's stories painted an eye-opening picture of human ingenuity and deceit. She couldn't help but admire his depth of knowledge.

"Detective Sherlock, you really are worth every penny," she said, clearly impressed.

Klein smiled modestly, then added, "If you want to witness a fraud in person, it may take a few days. I need to identify a suitable target first."

Perhaps when Hazel observes the fraud, I can expose the perpetrator immediately after. That'd be a win-win.

Hazel nodded. "Alright, I'll wait for your message. You can find me at Harvest Church around this time every day."

With their conversation concluded, Klein bid her farewell. He strolled across the dim prayer hall to where Emlyn White was meticulously polishing a lampstand.

Klein turned his head slightly and, mindful of not disturbing the serenity of the prayer hall, deliberately lowered his voice and chuckled softly. "Does your clan happen to have a Duke by the name of Rhine Carendia?"

Emlyn paused, visibly surprised. He lifted his head and countered, "How do you know about him? That Highness perished in the mid-Fourth Epoch…"

"Could you tell me more about him?" Klein asked as he retrieved a small, palm-sized box from his pocket. Inside was an exquisitely crafted doll.

Ever since reading Roselle's diary entry regarding "Liu Bo," Klein had been planning to extract information from Emlyn. However, the timing hadn't felt right, and he lacked the right "incentive" to loosen the vampire's tongue—until now.

The doll, which Klein had procured through Taliem's connections at a considerable cost, was the perfect bait.

"That… that's a masterpiece by Selena! How did you manage to get this?" Emlyn's ruby-red eyes lit up as he stared at the doll, his restraint visibly weakening.

With a knowing smile, Klein calmly closed the lid of the box, ensuring it was just out of reach.

Realizing the unspoken negotiation, Emlyn quickly composed himself. After a moment of thought, he said, "That Duke's story isn't exactly a secret. I suppose I can share it with you—on one condition: you must swear not to spread it further."

"Agreed," Klein replied, solemnly swearing by the god of steam and machinery, a choice calculated to align with his current "faith."

Reassured, Emlyn began recounting, "Duke Rhine Carendia was somewhat estranged from our clan but reportedly enjoyed the favor of the Ancestor. He often received divine oracles, which, naturally, made Her Majesty the Queen and several Dukes envious.

"He referred to himself as the 'Silver-Eyed Observer' and was known for mentoring young talents. However, during the Four Emperors' War, he didn't support the Night Emperor. Instead, he grew close to Solomon's 'Black Emperor.'

"Before his demise, he left behind a mysticism book titled Feast of Blood. It's stored in our clan's treasury to this day.

"The first half of the book is written in a comprehensible manner, but the second half employs an unusual and unfamiliar script. No one has been able to decipher it."

Feast of Blood? So Liu Bo really wrote this… Was the first half borrowed by the Tower, and if so, did they collaborate with a vampire? And if the second half is in a strange script…

"Could it be in Rosellean script?" Klein ventured tentatively.

Emlyn gave him a look that clearly conveyed disbelief. "Impossible. Roselle lived a little over a century ago. That Highness passed away in the mid-Fourth Epoch… How could he have used Rosellean script?"

So it's not… What did Liu Bo use then? English? Japanese? Or something even more obscure?

Suppressing his curiosity for now, Klein fulfilled his end of the bargain and handed the box to Emlyn.

The vampire's crimson eyes gleamed even brighter as he clutched the doll, radiating childlike delight.

Watching Emlyn's unguarded reaction, Klein chuckled softly and casually remarked, "Running low on funds?"

The moment the words left his mouth, Klein realized how much they resembled an introduction to multi-level marketing.

Emlyn froze momentarily, then scoffed, "Do not insult the dignity of the noble blood race with such trivial concerns!"

Klein couldn't help but chuckle again. His gaze shifted toward the towering figure of Father Utravsky, and he said seemingly offhandedly, "From what I know, finely crafted dolls don't come cheap—especially life-sized ones."

"..." Emlyn opened his mouth, ready to argue, but ultimately said nothing.

After a brief silence, he cleared his throat and said, feigning nonchalance, "Just tell me what you want. I am not a fan of guessing games."

Klein didn't meet his gaze, instead listing the materials he needed, such as the pituitary gland from the brain of a Thousand-Faced Hunter.

He deliberately exaggerated the quantities of auxiliary materials required, accounting for potential losses.

Emlyn immediately felt he was being ensnared by a linguistic trap but controlled his irritation. "Such rare materials would cost at least 100 pounds for the main item and 10 pounds for auxiliary components. While I don't recognize some of these items, I know they're neither common nor inexpensive. Otherwise, you wouldn't have come to me."

Smart guy, Klein thought with a smile. "Deal."

At that moment, Emlyn suspected he had undervalued his services.

Klein was about to inquire further about Feast of Blood's second half and any information on the Carendia Viscount when a layered, ethereal prayer resounded faintly in his ears.

Judging by the tone, it was from the Tower.

(End of Chapter)