Inside the only private room of Old Will Restaurant, 6:30 PM.
All members of Blackthorn Security Company, except for the "Corpse Collector" Frye who needed to guard the Chanis Gate, the remaining seven Beyonders and five clerical staff had all arrived.
One of the dinner's protagonists, Klein Moretti, had visited a retired knight in the afternoon and underwent strict combat training.
At this time, his face was full of fatigue, his eyes scattered as he looked at the long table covered with white tablecloth, his hands massaging his leg muscles, occasionally grimacing and gasping from slight movements that stimulated his body's injuries.
The other protagonist, Angel Granger, had shed her usual shirt, trousers, and windbreaker, changing into a summer dress. Somewhat unaccustomed to this attire, she was trying hard to curl her body into the back of her chair, making herself less conspicuous.
Miss Rozanne leaned beside her, whispering something. Due to the height difference, Angel could only bend down and tilt her head, listening to the other's whispers with a smile on her face.
Dunn Smith, captain of Tingen City's Nighthawks, had locked himself in his office all day, contemplating how to become a true "Nightmare." Now he seemed to have gained something, his eyes sharp, sweeping over each team member at the table.
The "Midnight Poet" Seeka Teon, with white hair and black pupils, who liked to write novels in his spare time, was conversing in low voices with Lolotta Ladin, another female Nighthawk, their gazes occasionally sweeping over Angel and Klein; Leonard Mitchell, a poet with a somewhat unrestrained temperament, was sipping pre-dinner wine bit by bit, squinting his eyes, not knowing what he was thinking; Korney White, who was somewhat short in stature but had solid and well-proportioned muscles, had just finished guarding the Chanis Gate yesterday and had worked overtime patrolling several cemeteries in the North District during the day. Even though he was a "Sleepless One," he now looked tired and yawned from time to time.
Mrs. Orianna, who usually seemed to have endless tasks every day, was arguing in low voices with Old Neil in his black robe about something, perhaps about reimbursement issues for extra expenses; Bright, with his thick beard, was reading today's headline news from the "Tingen Daily": Former Tingen Mayor Dennis resigned due to the deterioration of recent security conditions in Tingen City. Beside him, Caesar Francis smiled mysteriously as he commented on the authenticity of the news, believing that Mayor Dennis was forced to resign due to the arrest of a certain Tingen upper-class socialite, which implicated multiple major cases.
As the restaurant waiters brought plates of steaming food to the dining table, cut and served them to each guest, the "Blackthorn Security Company Newcomer Welcome Party" finally began.
Captain Dunn first stood up holding his wine glass, the champagne in the glass showing a beautiful amber color, with strings of bubbles hanging on the glass wall as it swayed.
"Let us all raise our glasses together to welcome the newly joined members, Miss Angel Granger and Mr. Klein Moretti!"
"Cheers!"
Everyone raised their glasses and stood up, bending to bring their glasses to the center of the table, clinking glasses together, then drinking all the champagne in one gulp.
With alcohol in their stomachs, the atmosphere at the dining table became lively. Except for Klein, who had undergone brutal training and looked troubled as he stared at the food in front of him, everyone else had already selected their favorite dishes and began eating heartily.
"I heard you killed another Sequence 6 in Enmat Port?"
Leonard quickly eliminated the steak and mashed potato salad in front of him, took a sip of champagne, and moved closer to Angel to ask.
He seemed to have premeditated this, having occupied the seat next to Angel early.
"Your information is really well-informed... But I didn't kill him. That Mr. C ultimately escaped, and the wanted notice should have reached Tingen, right?"
Angel swallowed the bacon in her mouth and helplessly emphasized, cursing in her heart that "Rose Bishop" who had already fled to who knows where.
"That doesn't matter either. In battle, severely injuring an opponent and making them withdraw from combat is actually equivalent to killing them."
Since there were restaurant waiters present, they didn't mention Beyonder abilities or mysticism terminology, only vaguely exchanging information.
After all, their public identity was a security company, so discussing fighting and killing during dinner was actually normal.
Rozanne was initially very interested in their conversation, pricking up her ears to listen to a few sentences, but soon lost interest in the boring combat experience and turned to look at Klein on the other side. The latter's steak remained untouched, and he was holding a beef pudding he had requested from a waiter, eating it in small bites, as if his taste and appetite had not yet recovered from the afternoon's excessive exercise.
"What's wrong, Klein? Are you also learning from me to diet and lose weight?"
"Believe me, Miss Rozanne, I very much want to eliminate the steak in front of me, but my stomach has some different ideas..."
Klein dipped his pudding spoon in a bit of the steak sauce and tentatively tasted it, but soon gave up on this heavy oil and salt main dish, continuing to slowly eliminate the beef pudding in front of him like an ant moving house.
"After intense exercise, you need more food intake to replenish lost salt and energy. You're just not used to this training intensity yet. Once you recover, you'll eat this steak like you've been hungry for three days and ask the waiter for another serving."
Even though there were two ladies between them, Leonard still used his frivolous tone to educate the Nighthawk newcomer. Due to his loud voice, he attracted the attention of other team members who were chatting.
"Oh, it must be Sir Gawain. I've always said that he might secretly have some agreement with the 'Punishers,' using extreme training methods to discourage Nighthawk newcomers."
Old Neil commented on Klein's combat instructor while scooping a spoonful of egg custard into his mouth, enjoying the delicious food, especially when there was a companion at the dining table with no appetite to contrast with himself, making the food often more tempting.
Seeing Klein's bitter expression, Seeka Teon pushed the ice cream in front of her over: "You can try sweet food, cold sweet food, maybe it will help you regain your appetite."
"Thank you, I'll try it."
Klein took the blueberry-flavored ice cream and scooped a spoonful into his mouth, his expression changing repeatedly.
"It seems the effect is indeed good. Hmm, maybe I can write this idea into a novel..." Watching Klein rapidly wielding his spoon and quickly eliminating the blueberry ice cream, Seeka pondered thoughtfully.
"Writer Miss, you say this every time, but when can we see your masterpiece in magazines?"
"Tomorrow, tomorrow!"
Amid everyone's teasing, Klein, who had gradually increased his eating speed, had eliminated the pudding and steak in front of him. He seemed to be contemplating whether to have another serving, his gaze moving back and forth between the empty plate and the waiter in the corner. Finally, he put down his knife and fork, picked up his wine glass, and drained the remaining half glass of flat champagne in one gulp.
"See, I told you so."
Leonard whispered to Angel.
Klein Moretti, aching all over, refused his brother Benson's help, gritting his teeth and trembling as he walked up the stairs step by step to his bedroom.
As soon as the door closed, he could no longer maintain his nonchalant expression.
"Pain, too painful!"
It was just like the day after his university classmates dragged him mountain climbing in his previous life, when going downstairs required holding onto the wall and moving down step by step...
Ungracefully collapsing onto the bed, he massaged his legs that seemed no longer to belong to him, recalling the miserable experiences of "muscle soreness" from before.
Why not just sleep like this... After all, I already showered in the afternoon, so I'll skip tonight...
A demon seemed to be tempting him in his mind: Lie down, you're already tired, leave everything for tomorrow.
No, there are still things to do today, I can't sleep yet!
Klein forced himself to stand up from the bed, trembling as he walked to his desk and found the notebook from yesterday with various analyses written in it.
"Did she refuse Monday afternoon's invitation because she had to attend the fixed-time 'Tarot Club,' or because she really had other scheduled matters?"
Adding another piece of information to the page analyzing the connection between Angel and the "Empress," Klein frowned in thought.
Stroking the topaz pendant tied to his left wrist, he finally made up his mind.
Originally, "Seer" Klein had been avoiding directly using divination to verify his speculation, partly because of insufficient information that might lead to divination failure, and partly because he couldn't determine his attitude after successful divination, how to face Angel's attitude.
So he had been unwilling to use divination to explore the truth that was so close at hand.
But thinking of Angel, who had been wandering downstairs at the company today, her eyes revealing fear and vulnerability, Klein felt his heart tighten inexplicably.
No matter what method, he wanted to understand this colleague, this companion better.
"Clatter—"
The silver chain fell, and Klein, already well-practiced, let the topaz fall to less than one centimeter from the desk surface, the crystal tip pointing directly at "Angel Granger" on the notebook.
"Is Angel Granger the 'Empress' Miss of the Tarot Club?"
He half-closed his eyes, outlined a light sphere, entered a meditative state, and silently recited this divination content seven times.
Then he opened his eyes somewhat hesitantly and looked at the swaying crystal pendant.
Small clockwise rotation... then counterclockwise...
Looking at the constantly swaying pendant that expressed two opposite answers, Klein sighed with both regret and relief.
"The divination failed. Is it because of insufficient information... No, this is the same as when facing the tuxedo clown from the Secret Order. My divination was interfered with?"
Is it the characteristic of the "Assassin" sequence?
I remember Old Neil also encountered the same situation when divining that assassin fugitive... It seems I still need to continue collecting information, or...
He looked at the back of his right hand, where four black dots were hidden beneath the skin, only visible when performing certain rituals.
"Yes, I should have done this long ago. Having come this far, what is there to hesitate about?"
After making up his mind, Klein snapped the notebook shut and walked counterclockwise four steps in his bedroom with his aching legs.
Moments later, in the gray fog space, within the magnificent temple, the shadowy figure of the "Fool" appeared at the head position of the bronze long table.
"Angel Granger is Miss 'Empress.'"
Looking at the high-backed chair in the first position on the left, Klein closed his eyes, leaned against the chair back, silently recited the divination content, and entered a dream through meditation.
In the gray, illusory world, the "Empress" Miss wearing a hood, with a strand of light golden hair hanging by her cheek, stopped meditating, blew out the candle on the table, and carried plates of cold food out of the basement, dumping them into the trash can.
This was exactly the day when the three members completed the "ritual magic" and prayed to the Fool.
The last thing the "Empress" held in her hands was a plate of Feynapotter noodles. She seemed to hesitate about whether to throw away the food. After a moment of deliberation, desire overcame reason as she took a fork from the kitchen, sat at the dining table, and enjoyed the food that should have been sacrificed to the "Fool."
Under the hood that was lifted for convenient eating was exactly the face Klein had been thinking about day and night.