The carriage dedicated to the Blackthorn Security Company bumped along the cobblestone road, the atmosphere inside the cabin somewhat solemn.
Ince Zangwill seemed to gaze coldly at everything inside the carriage through the perspective of 0-08.
He "knew" that the Antigonus Family notebook, wrapped in coarse cloth, was placed on the seat right next to Dunn Smith's hand.
It was coming.
He took a deep breath and reconstructed the script in his mind once again.
As expected, Dunn's gaze fell upon the cloth bundle, and his fingers moved slightly, as if he wanted to reach out and touch it.
However, at the very moment Dunn's hand was about to touch the bundle, a voice rang out, breaking the silence in the carriage and shattering Ince's fantasy.
"Captain, why are you being so careless today?"
It was Klein Moretti.
Ince's pupils suddenly constricted.
Klein looked serious, even speaking with a hint of reproach: "That notebook is a treasure to Secret Sorcery Club, and it's the very thing that killed Welch, Naya, and the others! How could you touch it directly and even think about reading its contents?"
Dunn's movements froze. He withdrew his hand somewhat awkwardly, a trace of confusion and lingering fear flashing through his gray eyes.
"I don't know either—" He rubbed his temples and leaned back against the seat with some shame, "Perhaps I was being forgetful again."
Ince stared fixedly at Klein through the perspective of 0-08.
This bastard!
How dare he! By what right! A newcomer who had only recently joined the Nighthawks dared to lecture his captain in such a tone?
What Ince found even more incomprehensible was Klein's next move.
He carefully picked up the cloth bundle as if he were touching something highly toxic.
Then, he took out a pre-prepared black metal box from his pocket, its inner walls lined with a thick layer of lead.
He placed the notebook, along with the wrapping cloth, steadily inside and then locked it with a "click."
After completing all this, Klein finally breathed a sigh of relief and handed the box to Leonard Mitchell beside him.
"Leonard, you keep it. You aren't forgetful—you should be able to suppress the weirdness of this thing. Remember, before handing it over to the Church to be sealed, no one is to open it again."
Leonard was stunned for a moment, but he still nodded solemnly and took the box.
Ince Zangwill felt his mind go blank.
The plan—once again—had been completely blocked.
He gave the notebook to Leonard to keep!
Leonard had an existence at or above the Demigod-level residing within him; Ince's minor arrangements were a joke in front of that being!
Why? Why was Klein so vigilant?
Yes, he had once been seduced by the notebook and knew its evil, so he was being extremely cautious. This reason—
This reason was so damn reasonable!
So reasonable that Ince couldn't find a single loophole to criticize!
It was like a precision murder where the killer used the most logical common sense to perfectly cover all tracks, leaving the victim to die clearly yet with no way to appeal.
On the floor, the tip of 0-08 danced joyfully, writing down a line of words.
"Oh, my poor Ince, his plan to contaminate the Nighthawk Captain Dunn Smith is destined to fail. Klein's reasoning is impeccable, isn't it?"
"Bang!"
With a loud crash, Ince's pale hand slammed violently onto the table, sending wood splinters flying.
Klein!
Fine, he would remember this name.
But this was no longer a coincidence; someone was definitely guiding him from behind the scenes!
Who is it? Who on earth is ruining my plans time and time again!
Ince's chest heaved violently, his eyes bloodshot.
He felt as though he wasn't fighting a mere Sequence 9, but was wrestling with a massive, invisible shadow.
And that shadow always seemed to be one step ahead, seeing through all his arrangements.