"He saw the requirements on those notes, yet couldn't complete a single one!
A simple 'turn around', is it that hard?"
The man's snickering gradually lowered, turning into a faint "hissing" sound.
It sounded exactly like some reptile crawling forward over the snow.
The blizzard outside the window showed no signs of waning; the fine, dense snowflakes obscured all sight outside.
Klein stared at the handwriting on the notes.
"Perhaps it wasn't that he couldn't do it,"
He said.
"Perhaps Geralt Sif was scared silly, which is why he didn't follow the note's instructions."
"Or perhaps, he simply couldn't imagine that completing the note's requirements was the only way to survive."
The man in the dark muttered softly, "Still because he's stupid."
Klein pinched his ears hard to force himself to sober up a bit.
Looking at the wall clock in the police office, the time pointed to 1:13 AM.
Dawn was only a few hours away, but Klein clearly had no intention of going off duty.
He used the fountain pen in his hand to circle the three requirements.
The paint on the sides of the pen where his fingers usually rested had worn off, revealing the shiny brass body beneath.
Under the dim yellow light, it reflected a pale yellow halo.
"So, what about the killer themselves?"
Speaking of this, the man dropped his frivolous demeanor.
"The intensity of the [Tainted Blood] on the notes is very low. There are two possibilities.
First possibility:
The person using the [Tainted Blood]—the killer—has very weak abilities, insufficient to unleash the true power of the [Tainted Blood].
Second possibility:
This bit of [Tainted Blood] likely doesn't come from a true Great One. Therefore, it inherently lacks the formidable power of a true Great One."
Klein didn't speak, as his understanding of anomalous events was limited, so he could only listen to the man's reasoning.
"The killer might be a low-level kin of some Great One,
who has only conducted simple prayers,
has not sacrificed their life,
and has never been stained by the blood of a Great One."
He licked his long, slender tongue, which was completely different from a normal human's.
"In our circles, we collectively refer to these people as [Virgins]."
What a sick sense of humor.
Klein already despised that legendary circle, and the man's words only deepened his disgust.
"Are there any other possibilities?"
The man in the dark pondered for a moment before continuing:
"Or perhaps by pure coincidence, some lucky bastard obtained a little [Tainted Blood] and happened to know how to use it.
Such a person could use a certain secret ritual—which we simply call a [Rite]—
to imbue the power of the [Tainted Blood] into an object, thereby creating these notes."
The man stroked his stubble-covered chin.
"Or maybe it's some Undead who practices Deep Sorcery, and cast a Deep curse on a mortal.
I've seen people cursed to death by Deep Sorcery before,
Hmm... it's exactly this kind of absurd death.
No omens, no violent conflict.
As long as certain conditions are met,
Snap.
The person is dead."
"In short, it's definitely not some highly dangerous figure."
"If it's none of these... then I really can't guess."
Klein was very dissatisfied with his final conclusion.
"That's not right."
He pointed at the notes on the desk.
"No matter what the killer is, supernatural power appeared on Walker Street and killed someone. This is different from what we agreed upon."
The man in the dark tried to argue:
"Klein, you know this is out of our control.
More and more new immigrants are coming, and supernatural beings will also increase.
This is an objective fact.
Supernaturals are uncontrollable, and even mega-corporations cannot predict their appearance with 100% accuracy...
Whether it's the Byrgenwerth Group, the Astarte Esoteric Order, or even the Choir that proclaims itself the true god.
No person or organization can know when or where those inhuman monsters will appear!
We can only step in and stop them in time when they cause trouble."
He emphasized his tone and repeated the phrase.
"Stop them in time."
"Do you understand?"
Klein's face was harder than the black bread served at the Lower District miners' cafeteria night shifts.
He tapped the desk again.
Thump. Thump.
The sound was much louder than before.
"I helped you get the encryption key to Yharnam City's citizen database.
You help me keep supernaturals out of Walker Street, or dispose of the criminals.
This is what we agreed upon."
Mimicking the man's previous manner, he emphasized the words "agreed upon".
Some words in this sentence seemed to hit the man's weak spot.
The face hidden in the darkness instantly looked uncomfortable.
"Klein, you don't need to repeat this every time, I remember."
It was unclear whether he was explaining or making excuses.
"My job is different from yours; it's inherently troublesome.
To find a supernatural being who looks almost indistinguishable from a normal person among hundreds of thousands of ordinary people...
You're a police officer; you know how hard that is."
He complained.
"Besides, society today is different from before.
Ever since the Empire opened up to immigration, masses of foreigners have flooded into Yharnam City, the closest city to customs.
You know better than anyone how much the population has exploded."
He heavily emphasized the word "immigration".
"Let me tell you a secret, Klein, my dear inspector."
"A secret known to very few, spreading only within the smallest of circles."
The blizzard outside grew fiercer, isolating the man's lowered voice entirely within the police office. Not a single syllable leaked out.
"I only overheard this by chance...
You know, my kind is spread throughout the sewers of Yharnam City, always seeing and hearing all sorts of strange events."
"Some peculiar immigrants have appeared. They possess indescribable abilities and secret rites that have never existed on this land."
"They are powerful, and aimless."
"Local supernaturals have already clashed with them. My kin witnessed those conflicts and confirmed certain things."
He quietly spat out the name.
"Outer Gods."
"Some Outer Gods have also slipped in alongside those immigrants."
Klein's eyes widened, and he finally turned around.
Through the darkness, he stared at the man's vertical pupils.
"Does the Choir know about this?"
The man let out another snicker.
"Those executioners can't even finish dealing with the Virgins of their own faith. Where would they find the time to pick a fight with Outer Gods?"
Klein didn't know what to say.
Tainted blood, kin, Outer Gods, supernaturals... These were domains a mundane police officer like him was never meant to touch.
It was only due to an accidental event a year ago that he stepped into the flip side of Yharnam City and came into contact with these bizarre things.
His understanding of them was limited.
Aside from occasionally stumbling upon supernatural corpses forgotten by the Choir, his exposure to "unnatural phenomena" was exceedingly restricted.
Most of the taboo knowledge he now possessed came from the mouth of the man before him.
The man clutched his head, feigning a headache.
"These past few days, Yharnam City's dark side has turned into a total mess.
Brother, you have no idea how I've survived these days..."