KB1 - Chapter III - The Ghost

Chapter III - The Ghost – Book 1: Heir of the kingdom

"If the news is indeed genuine -" A gray-hair, middle-aged nobleman whose right hand was trembling slightly, pressed his left chest and bowed deeply.

"- Please let me personally go and properly attend this matter for you."

"There hasn’t been final confirmation yet, but the lamp in the Sunset temple did light. It seems, the distance is very close."

Next to the fiery hearth, a vigorous figure lowered the right hand on his chin and gravely said.

"I've already dispatched Joel. Compared to Ada, he is more suitable for stealth missions. You know how vital this news is – And the foremost, Elisa, she even sealed off the inner altar in the name of the oracle. So even though it’s still ambiguous, we cannot disregard the danger of this news being exposed. Only until the moment we have the final confirmation, I will send you there in secret.”

“Indeed, indeed, "The gray-hair middle-aged nobleman was unobtrusively excited," By that time, upon my loyalty I vow to devote all my strength to you."

"Alas," said the vigorous figure with a sigh. "I don’t know why. When I first heard the news I was more excited than you."

"But now, I can stay this calm."

-------------------

Rick didn’t know how he managed to walk back to Brotherhood’s headquarter.

The chill feeling behind his neck was still there all the time.

When he saw the headquarter of the Black Street Brotherhood, saw the two members playing some kind of game at the door, saw the partially darken and brighten shadows outside of the main house; in the big room, saw behind the iron table - carefully checking the accounts big boss Maurice, saw leaning against the hallway’s pillars with scandalous eyes Veronica (tonight the proposal to increase budget of prostitution department by Veronica was rejected) he was so relieved that even the one who had always not been on good term with him, the assassin Lucas, looked amiable under the candlelight on the table.

Unconsciously, the chill behind his neck also disappeared, as if there had never been one.

Even Rick himself wondered if his nerves were getting too tense.

As he talked to big boss Maurice, who managed the human-trafficking, that he was suspicious of someone stalking him, Lucas laughed and spat out a mouthful of malt liquor on the table, Veronica yawned, held her incomparably enormous pair of breasts tighter, and looked at him with even more scandalous eyes.

Big boss Maurice, staring at the cold sweats on Rick’s forehead, also had a weird expression on his face. The boss patted Rick's shoulder, told him that he shouldn’t get himself too tired in near future, just saw fewer dramas played by the Dark Night temple, and waited for doctor Freak to come back from his business trip to prescribe an antianxiety medicine for him.

I’m being haunted!

Rick knew that even with the existence of his mystical power, it was difficult for others to believe in (let not mention that the distance from The Ruin to Black Street was one kilometer full) the existence of an invisible, purposeless and motionless assassin - But Rick subconsciously believed that man's existence was real!

However, when he returned to his room, lied down, and carefully recalled various details of the encounter that night, he could not help but doubt that he was really too nervous.

Rick calmed his mind and tried to use the mystical power again. But everything was fine, his neck on the velvet pillow felt really comfortable.

Well perhaps I was overly concerned.

But in the next moment, that soul-stirring chill struck again!

Fuck me!

There’s no way I can sleep now!

Rick suddenly jumped up from his of bed.

He pulled out a chest from deep under his bed, drew out a gen-six Siegel Magicen Gun which is so heavy it needs both hands to pull the trigger, slowly stepped out to the corridor and listened around carefully.


The corridor was full of burning Inextinguishable lamps filled with Eternal oil, very brightly lit, but still, there was no sight of any suspicious person. In the distance, a Brotherhood’s watchman who was on duty came back from the toilet, seemingly scratching an itch by pulling his black and red leather crotch armor while walking over beside Rick.

From the room at the end of the corridor, typically they could hear the echoes of Lucas and Veronica’s lecherous and wild moans.

"These fucking shameless bitches, that slut better uses too much force and breaks it.”

Rick cursed loudly.

The watchman, who just walked over with a sympathetic look on his face, nodded to Rick. Their eyes met like they were longtime soulmates.

Then Rick saw him painfully scratching the crotch's armor, while the other looked at him struggling to hold a big gun against the wall.

They both awkwardly turned their head, one went back to his post, the other went back to his room.

Rick touched the back of his own neck.

Fuck it, this damn mystical power must have failed me.

Besides, if this opponent dared to touch the Brotherhood’s headquarter, which filled with skilled fighters like clouds in the sky, but still hasn’t been found by a single person, then that means this Magicen Gun of me wouldn’t have any damn use. Even big boss Maurice's mystical power was useless.

Just sleep, sleep.
-------------------

Thales's back injury may look bad but it didn’t seem to be that serious. Already on the third day, he could stand up and walk.

Alas, I may really have gifted talents of a main character. Standing in the line, Thales sighed as he looked around the shabby houses and collapsed walls, received from the thug Pearson a slide of black bread and some wild vegetables, then gnawed on them.

Unfortunately, I was born in such a place.

"You are next to the sharpen branch, you must be the one who have secretly cut my hand!"

"It wasn’t me! My hand was also cut last night!"

"All the people from our house got their hands cut! It must be the Eighth House! They envy us for yesterday harvest!"

"It was them! The people from our 14th House were also cut at night! They did not want us to go to the streets and get near “the sheep"!"

Thales yawned and lazily listened to some beggars from several houses grew from quarrels to fighting, and the beggars next to them even booed until some thugs came to stop them. He sighed, swallowed the last portion of his almost edible breakfast and clapped his hands to call the other beggars from the sixth house.

Time to work.

It was the same Tuesday as ever, but the begging business of the sixth house was relatively smooth as they went straight near the West Gate’s local guard post for better business. The recent week seemed to have a celebration of the Sunset Goddess, but Thales also heard that there was a descended oracle and the Sunset temple had sealed off its inner altar, causing many believers to enter the city from the West Gate this week, they boarded the city wall and prayed toward the setting sun to make up for the regret of not doing it directly instead to the mortal representative of Sunset Goddess.

Right before the guards changed from glaring to stepping in to stop them, Thales, with the help of Ryan and Carina, successfully snatched a black-wood statue which carved the Highmoon goddess from an obese fruit and vegetable street vendor. The street vendor paid too much attention to the wallet in his pocket, so when Ryan and Carina were bargaining with him for vaulted grass, Thales put his hand over behind his pocket.

A statue of Highmoon goddess’s market price should be at least fifty copper coins. Of course, this stolen good cannot see the light and could only be sold in the Brotherhood’s trading channel. The Brotherhood veterans who know they were just beggar children and petty thieves would forcefully cut the price (or robbed them if the item was valuable enough), so it wasn’t bad if they can exchange it for five copper coins.

After all, even mosquito meat is still meat.

When Thales and everyone went back to The Ruin, Rick, who visited as usual, had not been kind or hospitable like always, but instead only gave them a few orders before hurriedly disappeared again from their sight.

"Mr. Rick got into trouble?" Asked Carina, who was biting her fingers with a gurgling stomach. They went very far away so it was already too late when they came back. But fortunately Thales had a good relationship with the thug Pearson, who served them food, and often bribed him with little presents so the later promised to give them their meals.

"It may be Clyde, that bastard knows his best how to cause troubles," Kelly said, his stomach was also gurgling.

When he heard the name, Ned shuddered along with Ryan.

"Boys and girls, no meal for you tonight." When the six children went into the empty dining-courtyard, waving at them from faraway was Pearson, who was responsible for bringing the meals.
"Don’t look at me like that, I can’t do anything about it," Pearson heartlessly shrugged in the face of the angry and somewhat protesting kids. "Rick’s order, people need to rest earlier tonight, that’s right, finish your work then rest."

In the end, Thales manage to persuaded him at the expense of the Highmoon statue and received from Pearson exactly four and a half slides of black breads and a half-bowl of black spinach that he had prepared for his two hounds.

"Recently both Rick and Clyde somehow got their nerves hit," Pearson told Thales before he left while the other five kids were eating. "Clyde's temper is getting worse lately. He cursed something like "fucking die baldy" all day long - well usually he was like this anyway. But Rick became very weird, especially from the last two days, and the people in the headquarter said - “

Speaking of this, Pearson looked around and whispered in Thales's ear: "He is haunted by a ghost."

Thales looked as Pearson walked away, gnawed on the usual almost edible black bread, which actually became particularly delicious thanked to his hunger, and silently pondered.

What happened to Rick that he would encounter a ghost?

But the thing that made Clyde's temper worsen and worsen, Thales swallowed a mouthful of bread, it seemed like I have to lay low for a while now.
------------------

Rick became nervous again.

Two days earlier, he always thought that his mystical power had failed him.

Up until this morning, when he prepared for the next batch of supplies for the beggars and opened his record books, it really confirmed that his ability was not wrong.

Rick is a very ambitious person. And he believed that to achieve his ambitions, one must start from small matters such as some careful daily habits. For example, never write the itinerary and planning on paper; for example, with the drawers, crates and important documents, he will pin some logs of hair on unnoticeable places in case of them getting stolen and peeped; for example, never hide money in one place, etc. He had always been proud of his own carefulness, and thought that due to being cautious he would one day receive rewards from it.

For example, right now.

Rick opened the record of beggars.

On the record, each pages had the hairs in their original positions.

This should have been a good thing, meaning no one turned the pages.

But Rick was the son of a scribe.

His father taught him that if one had the mind for it, any good thief and ranger could easily avoid this "pinning hairs" trick and open the desired documents without a single soul knowing.

So Rick got a more cautious approach from his father.

In the case of pages with hairs pinned on them, to read the document without a single soul knowing, of course the key is to ensure that when flipping pages the hairs are still in their original position.

The quickest way is to use your hand to press on the hair in its original position, and then when you turn the page, also use that hand to press the hair in the next page, holding both the upper and lower paper sheets at the same time.

How to crack this method?

Naturally, for the aristocrats the fastest and easiest way is to use their seal directly.

But Rick had from his father a special light-weight gel made of dolphin-derived oil, the kind of gel only poor people living on the river banks could use. This gel’s specialty (weakness?) is that its gluing force isn’t very strong. However as long as the book is not too heavy, even when the book is closed, the gel alone will not be enough to glue the hair on the page. For the page and the hair to be bound, the two sides of the glued places must be tightened with external force for a short time.

When Rick opened the record, he found the hairs were still in their positions, except for one thing.

These hairs were glued on the pages.

Someone had read my beggars record, pressing these hairs while flipping the pages.

Rick’s mind felt a chill.

Moreover, this is absolutely a skilled opponent. He could hold and keep four logs of hair on different pages in their original inconspicuous positions without leaving any traces.

Fortunately, thanks to what my father has taught me, I can discover this.

Four days ago, after seeing the begging scene performed by Thales, I went through the record to search for where that boy’s house was, and everything was normal.

But until now, between the last four days, someone came to my room and looked at the record of beggars?

Rick scalp felt a bit cold, he suddenly realized that this record wasn’t the most important thing.

So he unlocked the drawer’s hidden case, pulled out the human-trafficking transaction record and his secret account at the Royal Bank.

This record and his saving money were all safe, there was no sign of pages being flipped because the hairs on them fell naturally.

Rick was relieved.

Fortunately the hidden case have not been –

But if he was such a skilled opponent, how could he miss it?

Shivering, Rick took out of the entire hidden case, disassembled its cover, and reached his hand to touch the supposed pinned hair that was on the case.

Then he froze and collapsed on the chair.

That log of hair, which used the light-weight gel that was unique to Rick’s family, glued firmly to the gap within the hidden case.

When Rick walked into the canteen looking like a soulless man without his mind, he turned a blind eye to the flirtatious couple Lucas and Veronica. But Lucas, who had never been on good terms with him, called him out with a schadenfreude.

"Mr. Accountant, I have heard that recently you encountered a ghost?"

Rick ignored him and continued to sit down with a blank face. He picked up an inkpot on the table and somehow used it as sauce to pour on his steak.

"Do not mind him," Veronica smiled and sat in Lucas's arms, amorously glanced at the assassin and fed a glass of red wine into his mouth. "Will you still come to my room tonight?"

"Of - of course, of course," Lucas replied hurriedly before he swallowed the wine. "I just learned today that our boss pulled out all the guard posts a week ago, so tonight we might as well - hey hey - get a bit wild."

"Alas, you're so naughty -"


"Ding-dong!" Rick's inkpot fell to the table, the ink spread over the table’s surface, flowing to the other side where the man and woman in front of him were.

He palely raised his head, only to look at the displeased Lucas and Veronica.

"A week ago, a week ago, there were no guard posts in the main house?"

"Nonsense," Lucas brushed out the ink that was smeared on his body then threw a piece of bread onto the Rick’s face, "Recently with our big operation against the Blood Bottle gang, the boss said as we need to keep it a secret, the fewer people the better. The posts are all evacuated to outside the main house, even getting in for the toilets is forbidden - but you don’t need to worry, don’t you have a shadowy ghost protecting you?"

"Then, in the corridor," Rick did not realize that his voice was trembling with fear at that moment. "There are also no guard posts in the corridor?"

Lucas with Veronica had already stopped giving him any attention as they passionately kissed each other as if no one was there.

Rick took a deep breath.

The day before yesterday, he was inexplicably followed in The Ruin. The watchman who shouldn’t have existed in the corridor of the headquarter that night; the record of beggars which was carefully read through in his room.

Very well then, everything has to be connected.

Now, Nell Rick, he said to himself nervously:

You are being watched.

The opponent must be powerful, powerful enough to come and go through layers and layers of guard posts to reach the Black Street headquarter; and powerful enough to not being discovered by a terrifying assassin like Lucas. Even a strong and experienced warrior with mystical power like big boss Maurice knew nothing of it.

Only due to luck and my father's blessing I could found him.

He may be right behind me.

I must help myself!

I want to find his purpose!

Rick's brain ran wildly.

In the past two days, the other party should have turned my room upside down, but he only read the record of beggars carefully.

More important accounts and books were discarded like tattered shoes.

The other party has to look for something in the beggars’ record! Yes, I was watched while at the neighborhood of The Ruin, where exactly the beggars' houses are!

He is looking for a beggar!

However, Rick had a headache while thinking, I have more than a hundred beggars in my hand, and next month Berth will send in again another group of children of unknown or unfamiliar origins (important and valuable children, such as the descendants of the nobles, or children from wealthy families, are soon murdered or ransomed), who is the beggar he wants to find again?

If he had such brilliant skill, such terrible strength, why not make a request to the Brotherhood directly? We will give that beggar to you.

I would rather cooperate with that man in every single one of his demands; even if I have to pull out each beggar from a total number of over one hundreds, strip them clean to search, or even cut them all open, than throbbing in fear day by day because of a "ghost" hovering behind me!

Wait, it seems like I have thought of the key factor.

Why he didn’t make a request to the Brotherhood?

Of course, that means this matter cannot be known by anyone, even if it is the Brotherhood of Black Street!

The Brotherhood’s rival? No, if Blood Bottle gang has such strength, the Brotherhood of the Black Street has long been destroyed over and over again for a dozen times.

That’s right, he used neither the formal channels, nor felt disdain to deal with the Black Street Brotherhood of the Undercity District directly!

Such a terrifying character, of course his social status will not be that low to contact the criminal scums originated from the slums himself.

Then why is he interested in these long-forgotten orphans?

Looking for missing children? Why not just go and report directly to the City Watch? And with a person who has this level of social status and influence, the City Watch will not dare to neglect, then the Brotherhood can only bow its head.

Wait a moment! Rick’s brain flicked a light, it seems that he have caught on to something.

Powerful, come and go without a trace, act secretly, interested in a child's origin, social status is far higher than the Brotherhood of Black Street.

Power is built by using piles of money and resources; acting in secret is because the publicity of this matter will be detrimental to him; not dealing with the Brotherhood directly because he himself is too high on the social scale; and interested in the children whom the Brotherhood collected from all possible channels and various different sources...

His strength may be above the Absolute Boundary, behind him was power and wealth, but avoiding anything from the Brotherhood to the City Watch to secretly search for an important child – a child?

Rick fiercely patted his thigh. Inside his brain there seems to be a string that instantly got through!

I am involved in a bloodline inheritance affair of some great noble house!

Fuck me!

Rick aggressively stared at his opposition, Lucas and Veronica, who had already begun to move their hands around on each other’s bodies.

But his thoughts had long left this pair of dogs in heat.

Perhaps even the entire population of 15 million people in Stella kingdom did not know that, one day, a secret capable enough to shake the Kingdom’s higher ups, to tremble the Eastern and Western continents’ affairs, has been so close to such a humble and petty gangster boss.

End of chapter III – Next chapter: Accidents always come suddenly