165 Epitaph (2/2)
In the afternoon, Klein took a form signed by the Captain to the armory.
He opened the half-closed door and saw Bredt with a thick, black beard behind the table.
Klein froze visibly before handing the form over.
”Fifty rounds of ordinary bullets.”
During his request, he glanced at the tin can on the table. He felt as though he could smell the fragrance of the hand-ground coffee and hear the cheeky words in his ears, ”But why must you wait till you have spare cash? You can apply to Dunn and get him to approve of the expenses!”
…
Bredt noticed Klein's expression and sighed.
”I can understand what you're feeling right now. I, myself, cannot believe that Old Neil would leave us like that. Sometimes, I even feel as though this is a dream conjured by the Captain.”
”Perhaps this is the destiny of many Nighthawks,” Klein replied with a bitter smile.
After this incident, he felt much more disappointment and hatred toward the upper echelons of the Church for keeping the ”acting method” a secret.
”Let's hope that there will be fewer such tragedies, may the Goddess bless us.” Bredt drew a crimson moon in front of his chest. He took the application form and walked into the armory.
…
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The smell of gunpowder filled the air. Klein vented his frustrations onto the target he was shooting at, until he finished shooting the bullets that he had requested. He then collected himself and took a public carriage to Gawain's house.
He completed sets upon sets of exercises, as if he was torturing himself, until Gawain told him to stop.
”Combat practice isn't there for you to harm yourself.” Gawain looked at Klein with his turbid green eyes.
”I'm sorry, Teacher. I'm a little down today.” Klein exhaled and attempted to explain.
”What happened?” Gawain asked without a ripple of emotion.
Klein thought for a moment, then gave a simple reply, ”A friend of mine passed away suddenly.”
Gawain was silent for a few seconds. He stroked his blond mustache and said with a fleeting voice, ”I once lost 325 friends in the span of five minutes, amongst them were 10 that I could trust with my life.”
Klein sighed in realization. ”That is the cruelty of war.”
Gawain shot a glance at him and let out a self-deprecating laugh.
”The cruelest thing of all is the fact that I can never exact revenge for them. I can never fulfill their dreams, and the answer eludes me forever.
”As for you, you still have such a chance. Even though I don't exactly know what happened, I know that you're still young. You still have many opportunities.”
Klein was silent for a moment. He took in a breath and collected himself.
”Thank you, Teacher.”
Gawain nodded and said without any expression, ”Take a ten-minute break, then do ten more sets of the exercises you were doing just now.”
”…” Klein was momentarily unsure what expression he should show.
…
Friday morning, in the recreation room of the Nighthawks.
Klein, Seeka Tron, and Frye were seated around the round table, but they weren't playing cards. One of them was flipping through newspapers, the other was looking out the oriel windows in a daze, and the last was holding onto a pen, wanting to write something but failing to do so.
The room was quiet. No one spoke, and no one joked around. The atmosphere was heavy.
Phew… Klein exhaled. He lowered his newspaper and planned to focus on reading the materials he had found.
At that moment, Dunn Smith knocked and entered the room. He looked around before saying, ”Klein, come out for a moment.”
What happened? Klein, who had a premonition of what was happening, stood up and made his way out of the recreation room.
Dunn stood at the entrance of the stairway leading to the basement. He turned and looked at Klein.
”The person that the Holy Cathedral sent is here.”
The person examining me is here? Klein's nerves tensed.