Chapter 218 Night Talk

Chapter 218 Night Talk

Ruben shut the door behind him.

I called Zoey. She mentioned she hadn't seen a friend from Vesperia in ages. They'd met at a comic convention years ago, and she suddenly remembered her and wanted to catch up.

I cleaned up alone in my room and called Alan to let him know I was safe.

Then, I sat on the couch, poured myself a glass of water, and waited quietly.

I had a feeling he would come tonight with important news.

On the way back, I kept thinking about the scavenger. Why was he near the hotel? 

First, I ruled out any harmful intentions. After all, it was my first time in Vesperia, and I had no enemies here.

Secondly, I was likely beneficial to their side. Zoey and I wanted to preserve Byron's work and didn't want it to be cut.

So, there was only one possibility: the scavenger had some information for me.

I hadn't told Byron my address, so the scavenger must have been following us since we met Byron.

At this moment, I didn't need to do anything but wait.

A knock on the door came, each knock steady and heavy, unlike Zoey's hurried knocks.

I walked to the door but didn't open it. I asked in a deep voice, "Who is it?"

There was no response from the other side.

"Do you speak Phoenixian?"

"Yes."

The voice was hoarse and raspy, like a smoker's, or a growl from the depths of hell, restrained and ominous.

"Hello, Nancy."

He knew my name? Who was he?

"Hello, Mr. Lowe."

I sighed deeply and said slowly, "How does it feel to build up a young person's dream and then destroy it?"

I opened the door. Kurt, dressed casually, leaned against the wall, smiling meaningfully at me. He made a gesture inviting me, "A drink downstairs in the lobby?"

I agreed readily. My guess was correct.

At the lobby bar, the sound system played a mellow saxophone tune. The night of revelations felt eerie and strange.

Kurt ordered a whiskey, took a small sip, and frowned. He raised the glass, observing the surroundings through the amber liquid. The world seemed oddly peculiar.

"Seeing through the glass helps with storytelling. The same person can appear different from various perspectives. That's my creative secret," Kurt said, raising an eyebrow. "How did you know I was the scavenger?"

"Just now."

I took a sip of my ice water and mimicked his way of observing the surroundings through the glass. 

The soft lighting in the lobby, seen through the square glass, indeed had a unique charm, as Kurt mentioned. I hadn't noticed this before.

"Just now? In an instant?"

"Obviously not."

I put down my glass and gently tapped the wooden table, organizing my thoughts.

"You've been perfect from the start, but you made one mistake."

Kurt frowned and asked tentatively, "That strange dream?"

"Exactly."

"Before I came out, I met another employee from the comic novel department at the door. I don't understand Vesperian, but Zoey does. She invited him for a coffee and asked about Byron and his work. When we talked about Byron's creative inspiration, the employee praised Byron as a rare talent, creating excellent comic works in seclusion. When I mentioned Byron's strange dream, the employee was very surprised, clearly never having heard of it. So, the only person who knew about the dream was you."

Kurt chuckled.

"Such a secret inspiration, and I'm the head of the comic novel department. Byron telling me his inspiration as a gesture of goodwill isn't surprising, is it?"

I nodded.

"You're right. So, I didn't suspect you at first. Asking the comic department was more about understanding Byron and his relationship with Dean. I hadn't thought of you. What made me suspicious was what Byron said."

"When Byron talked about his creative process, he said most people knew about his strange dream. To build his image as a professional comic author, he emphasized that he had shared it openly."

"That could be because he later told his colleagues, and you happened to meet someone who didn't know."

Kurt raised his glass, slowly letting the whiskey flow into his mouth.

"Right. I wondered why such a kind, simple young man would lie about something trivial. It could only mean he was trying to dilute the dream's impact, claiming everyone knew about it to shift our focus to the scavenger, not the dream itself. This way, you could avoid suspicion and withdraw perfectly."

"Of course, this is a bit like shooting the arrow and then drawing the target. At the time, I didn't think of it this way. I was just curious why Byron wanted to divert attention and who he was covering for. Until tonight, when you disguised as the scavenger and watched me from the alley."

"I thought your eyes were strange. I initially felt a hint of killing intent, but later realized it wasn't."

I pointed to Kurt's glasses.

"You disguised yourself completely, but you overlooked one detail. People who usually wear glasses squint when they don't, to see more clearly. When you watched me from a distance, you couldn't see clearly, so you squinted."

Kurt was taken aback and instinctively touched his glasses.

"Even then, I hadn't guessed it was you. I just thought Byron didn't know my hotel address. Only someone from the Zaka building would know. Our whereabouts couldn't have been exposed so quickly. The scavenger saw us at noon, but we didn't see him again after lunch with Byron. The suburbs are about half an hour from downtown. How could the scavenger quickly reach downtown and precisely find my hotel? He's not a god, and no one would give him information. So, I made a bold guess: it had to be an insider, someone from the Zaka building."

"I thought, this person disguised as a scavenger must have a message for me. And I was sure he would come tonight."

Seeing Kurt's expression, I felt confident. I took a sip of water to clear my throat.

"Mr. Lowe, a person's tone and voice can change, but only when speaking their familiar language. When speaking an unfamiliar language, they reveal some flaws. You hid it well, but your Phoenixian accent gave you away."

"So, when I heard Phoenixian through the door, I knew it was you."