Chapter 13: The Hound Pub
As Klein climbed the stairs to his apartment, the first rays of sunlight were breaking over the horizon. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. The events of the night played on repeat in his head, interwoven with fragments of knowledge from the novel and his own anxieties about his situation.
He checked if and if his sister was awake or not. When he finds his sister is in her sleep then he collapses onto his bed, exhaustion finally catching up with him. But even as his eyes closed, his mind continued to race. The decision before him loomed large – a choice between stepping further into this dangerous, mystical world or trying to cling to the relative safety of ignorance.
As sleep finally claimed him, one thought echoed in his mind: In this world of Beyonders and hidden dangers, could he afford to remain on the sidelines? Or was the path forward the only real choice?
Klein awoke several hours later, his mind still buzzing with questions. He knew he needed more information before making a decision that could irrevocably change his life. With renewed determination, he set out for the Tingen City public library, after living and making a note to his sister that he is going to the library for some extra study.
The musty scent of aged paper and leather bindings filled Klein's nostrils as he hunched over yet another time. His eyes, weary from hours of reading, scanned the yellowed pages for any morsel of information about the supernatural world he now found himself in.
So far, his search had yielded limited results. The library's collection on mystical subjects was sparse, consisting mostly of creation myths and legends that seemed more fairy tale than fact. Yet, Klein pressed on, driven by an insatiable curiosity and the pressing need to understand his new reality.
As he flipped through a particularly ancient volume, a name caught his eye: Roselle Gustav. Klein leaned in closer, his interest piqued. The book described Roselle as a legendary figure – an emperor who had single-handedly industrialised the world.
"The Transmigrator Emperor," Klein murmured, his mind racing. Could this Roselle have been in a similar situation? Had he also found himself thrust into this world of Beyonders and secret organisations?
As he read on, Klein felt a strange stirring in his mind. The mention of Emperor Roselle triggered something – he remembered what he had read in the novel, that this was a senior who had come about 200 years ago, and in the comments, he had seen something like a joke that this senior had left nothing for his junior. And then, with startling clarity, he remembered: the original Klein had chosen the Seer pathway after reading the emperor's notes.
Klein sat back, his head spinning with the implications. He had been grappling with the decision to join the Nighthawks, weighing the pros and cons carefully. But now, this new piece of information added another layer to his deliberations.
Should he follow in the footsteps of the original Klein? Was the Seer pathway truly the best choice, or had circumstances changed enough to warrant a different decision? And what of the Nighthawks – how did they fit into this cosmic puzzle?
As the library's clock chimed, signalling the approach of evening, Klein gathered his notes and stood. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and questions as he made his way out of the building and onto the bustling streets of Tingen.
The cool evening air did little to clear his head as he walked, barely noticing the familiar sights and sounds of the city. He was too preoccupied with the weight of his choices, the echoes of a life he both was and wasn't living.
"I need more information," Klein muttered to himself, his pace quickening. "I need to understand what I'm truly getting into."
With that thought firmly in mind, he turned his steps towards the Hound Pub. It was time to take the next step in his journey, to dive deeper into the world of Beyonders and perhaps, find some answers along the way.
The Hound Pub loomed before Klein, its weathered sign creaking gently in the evening breeze. As he pushed open the heavy wooden door, a cacophony of voices and the sharp smell of alcohol assaulted his senses. The pub was bustling, filled with a motley crew of labourers, clerks, and what Klein suspected were members of Tingen's less savoury elements.
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He made his way to the bar, ordered a beer, and found a spot where he could observe the room. It wasn't long before he noticed a commotion near the back of the pub. A crowd had gathered around a circular pit, their faces alight with excitement and greed.
Curiosity piqued, Klein edged closer. As he neared, he saw what had drawn the crowd's attention: a group of small, fierce-looking dogs were being released into the pit. Moments later, a sack was upended, and dozens of rats tumbled out, squeaking in terror.
"Place your bets, gents!" a gruff voice called out. "Which hound will bag the most rats? Don't be shy now!"
Klein watched, a mix of fascination and revulsion churning in his gut. Part of him – the part that still clung to the morals and sensibilities of his old world – was appalled by the casual cruelty of the spectacle. Yet another part, the one growing more attuned to this new world, recognized the economic and social factors at play. Rat-catching wasn't just a sport here; it was pest control, a way for working dogs to prove their worth.
As the dogs tore into the rats with savage efficiency, Klein's mind drifted. The scene before him triggered a memory, not of this world, but of his own. He recalled a similar bloodsport from his area – the rooster fights.
In his mind's eye, he saw a different arena. Instead of dogs and rats, two magnificent roosters faced each other, their feathers gleaming, their powerful legs tensed for combat. These weren't ordinary farm birds; they were warriors, bred and trained for this very purpose. Some of them looked almost comically muscular, like feathered bodybuilders.
Klein remembered the monthly event, how it would draw crowds from all over. People would spend weeks, sometimes months, preparing their prized roosters for battle. They'd feed them special diets, train them rigorously, even perform strange rituals believed to imbue the birds with strength and luck.
The parallel between the two blood sports struck Klein. Both were brutal spectacles that spoke to a fundamental aspect of human nature – the thrill of competition, the allure of chance, the complex relationship between humans and the animals they both revered and exploited.
As he returned his attention to the rat-baiting, Klein pondered the similarities and differences between his old world and this new one. The forms might change, he realised, but certain aspects of society remained constant across realities.
The surrounding people either raised their wine cups and intensified their gaze or shouted loudly, "Bite it! Kill it!"
"Doug, Doug!"
Motherf**king rat-baiting with dogs... Klein regained his senses and the corner of his mouth twitched unceasingly.
The objective of the gamble is to determine which dog can catch more rats...
Perhaps, one can even bet on the specific number of rats caught...
No wonder there were people purchasing live rats at Iron Cross Street...
That's really unique...
Klein shook his head, laughing as he backtracked, and circled along the edge of the alcoholic customers, and reached the front of the bar.
"New here?" said the bartender as he spared Klein a glance while wiping the cups. He continued, "One cup of rye beer is a penny. Enmat beer costs two pence. Four pence for Southville beer, or do you want a cup of purely brewed malt Lanti?"
"I came here for Mr. Wright," said Klein directly and bluntly.
The bartender whistled and shouted to the side, "Old Man, someone is looking for you."
"Oh, who..." A vague voice sounded, and an intoxicated old man stood up from behind the bar.
He rubbed his eyes, shifted his gaze to Klein and asked, "Lad, were you looking for me?"
"Mr. Wright, I would like to hire a small mercenary squad for a mission," replied Klein, according to what Dunn had instructed.
"A small mercenary squad? Are you living in an adventure story? This hasn't been around for a long time!" the bartender interrupted and smiled.
Wright went silent for a few seconds before saying, "Who told you to look for it here?"
"Dunn. Dunn Smith," replied Klein in all honesty.
Instantly, Wright broke out in a chuckle and replied, "I see. Actually, the small mercenary squad still exists. It's just in another form, with a more contemporary name. You can find it on the second floor of No. 36 Zoutelande Street."
"Thank you," thanked Klein sincerely before he turned and squeezed out of the pub.
Before he left the pub, the alcoholic customers who surrounded him suddenly quieted down, as they murmured, "Doug was actually defeated..."
"Defeated..."
Klein smiled and shook his head. Then he left quickly and found his way to the nearby Zoeterland Street after asking around.
"30, 32, 34... Here," he counted the house numbers and walked into the stairwell.
Going around the corner and slowly climbing up the stairs, he saw the vertical sign with the current name of the so-called small mercenary squad.
"Blackthorn Security Company."
Klein paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as he stood before the door. This was it - the next step in his journey into the world of Beyonders. With a mixture of anticipation and nervousness, he reached for the doorknob, ready to step into whatever awaited him on the other side.
As he prepared to enter, Klein took a moment to assess his status:
```
Name: Klein Moretti
Age: 22
Sequence: Fool's Path (Sequence 9)
Spiritual Power: 96% [Recovering]
Attributes:
Strength: 6
Agility: 6
Constitution: 7
Intelligence: 10 (+2)
Spirituality: 8 (+3)
Luck: ?
Mental Skills:
- Acting (Level 5)
- Authority (Level 2)
- Beyonder Knowledge (Level 3) [Improved]
- Cultural Adaptation (Level 2) [Improved]
- Deception (Level 3)
- Dream Manipulation (Level 1)
- Genre Savviness (Level 2)
- Historical Analysis (Level 3) [Improved]
- Investigation (Level 2)
- Negotiation (Level 2)
- Novel Memory Recall (Level 4)
- Occult Knowledge (Level 3)
- Quick Thinking (Level 3)
- Self-Awareness (Level 3)
- Spirit Sense (Level 1)
- Stress Management (Level 3)
- Tarot Knowledge (Level 1)
- World Awareness (Level 4)
Physical Skills:
- Beyonder Abilities (Level 2)
- Culinary Improvisation (Level 2)
- Fog Manipulation (Level 3)
- Gathering Management (Level 1)
- History (Advanced) [Improved]
- Mystical Identity (Level 1)
- Precognition (Level 1)
- Talisman Making (Novice)
Condition: Alert, Determined
[Skill Improved: Beyonder Knowledge (Level 3)]
[Skill Improved: Cultural Adaptation (Level 2)]
[Skill Improved: Historical Analysis (Level 3)]
[Skill Improved: History (Ad
vanced)]
```
With this assessment of his growth and abilities, Klein steeled himself for whatever challenges lay ahead in the Blackthorn Security Company.