Sunday in Beckland, just after six o'clock in the afternoon.

A young man in a tuxedo formal and a half-height silk top hat walked out of the Beckland steam train station with a large suitcase.

This is Klein, who has just arrived in Beckland, the land of hope.

The sky was overcast and the smog was heavy.

The cold air frantically attacked the unprotected pedestrians as if by magic.

Folded the map in his hand, held it in his left hand with the newspaper, lifted the suitcase with his right hand, and walked towards the entrance of the subway.

As he approached the entrance, which looked like the door of a department store, Klein noticed two street lamps on either side of the door.

One of them is the same as the street lamp on the street just walked, with a black metal grid, a thin layer of dusty glass, and an orange light that shines through, conveying a meager warmth to homeless travelers.

The other one has a peculiar shape, not at all like a street lamp, but very much like the kind of art statue that is deliberately placed outside the landmark building in order to show a sense of luxury.

Where the gas lamp was supposed to have was a strange oil lamp with a golden body, a long spout on one side, a delicate handle on the other, and a pagoda-shaped lid on its bulging belly.

It was like a serious street lamp, emitting a soft glow that only illuminated a short area.

The shape of this street lamp is quite chic, but it is a little small and does not look very coordinated. Well...... It's made of brass, and it's not afraid of being stolen, and Beckland is really a big city.

Klein thought to himself, but he didn't particularly care, and passed through the gate without stopping, and walked towards the ticket office with the sparse flow of people.

Take the metro to the Joewood district, get out of the subway, and take a taxi to Minsk street 17, where there is a house to rent.

After knocking on the door, he entered the living room of Mrs. Summer's house, and the warm air made Klein feel good.

He was politely brought to the sofa by Mrs. Summer, and the maid served him tea in due course.

In a cozy atmosphere, Klein looked around the living room.

He saw the bogu shelf in front of the wall where the oil paintings hung in the living room, and in the staggered latticework, there were decorations such as red wine, statues, and plates painted with bright colors and intricate patterns.

Suddenly, in a cubicle, he saw a small, delicate oil lamp of a quaint golden yellow.

Is this an antique?

How do I feel so familiar.

Ah, there was an identical gas lamp in the shape of an oil lamp at the subway entrance near the Beckland steam train station.

Is it popular to use oil lamps for decoration in Bakeland?

Crane had a vague sense that something was unusual, but he couldn't have done a divination in front of Mrs. Summer.

Why don't you borrow a bathroom from Mrs. Summer?

Klein chatted with Mrs. Summer's as he finalized the lease for the 15th next door.

Declining Mr. Summer's invitation to dinner, Klein walked out of Summer's house.

On the pretext that he would have to go out to run errands later, he asked Mrs. Summer's maid to come back later to deliver the bedding, and he was always a little worried about the strangeness he felt at Summer's house, and planned to secretly do a divination in the house he had just rented.

A man came next door with a suitcase, and Crane was about to take out the key and open the door.

Suddenly, he felt something at his feet, and when he looked down, he saw an old golden oil lamp lying quietly on the ground.

"Huh", Klein jumped out all of a sudden, the cold hair stood on end, and cold sweat broke out all at once.

What is this?

It's been following me?

Klein's mind was racing, and his spiritual instincts had told him that the oil lamp on the ground was the same as Mrs. Summer's house and at the subway gate.

He stared straight at the oil lamp on the ground, his muscles tensed, his mind highly focused, ready to deal with the unexpected.

Yet the oil lamp lay silently on the ground, no evil power pervaded, no terrible curse, and nothing changed around it.

Except that it was not contaminated with dust, it was no different from the most ordinary oil lamp, as if someone else had discarded it here.

Crane stared at the oil lamp on the floor as he carefully examined his mental, spiritual, mental, and physical state, and found that there was nothing abnormal at all.

What's going on, how did it keep up with me? I haven't done anything special, I haven't been to a special place.

Why is it following me? Was it just because I was unlucky and happened to be chosen by it?

At the thought of the coincidence, Klein could not help but fear the quill that had arranged the fate of him and his companions, and he remembered the captain, and he remembered everything about Tingen.

He couldn't help but shake his head slightly, as if to shake the sadness out of his mind, but an exaggerated smile tugged at his face.

He forced his train of thought to come back to the present.

What should I do with this obviously abnormal, but pretending to be a normal oil lamp with extraordinary power on the ground?

Let someone slide? Just let it follow?

No, no, no, it's too dangerous, if it suddenly erupts into something harmful, I may die cleanly, if it takes a long time for the ability to take effect, then I may die silently, unclear.

Rent a different place? Move to another region and avoid it?

No, it's not a waste of the rental money I just paid, not to mention whether it will follow strangely, even if it gives up on me because of the distance, what about the people around me, it entangles me, I can still try my best to find a way to solve it, if it directly harms the ordinary people in this area, what will they do?

When you encounter a problem, try your best to solve it, and you can't run away from it.

Or should I send it to church? Introduce more powerful forces to solve it.

However, I am now not only a wild extraordinary, but also a dead person who must never appear in front of the night watchman, and my identity is not visible, and if I go directly to the church, I am afraid that I will never return.

Secretly delivered to the door of the church? No, if any church does not have a similar means of divination, I will also be exposed, found, and investigated.

After all, ordinary people would not pick up an oil lamp without any strange manifestations and secretly send it to the church.

Of course, being entangled in a weird oil lamp is enough for ordinary people to run to church in fear for help, but it's still that problem, and I can't stand up to investigation.

Crane observed, pondered, and finally decided to pick it up and bring it back to his room.

The oil lamp was cold to the hand, with a brass texture, and it was covered with mysterious and complex patterns, and when he looked closely, he suddenly felt a sense of dizziness and chaos, and Crane hurriedly looked away.

Close the door, too late to tidy up and clean, and put this oil lamp on the coffee table in the living room.

He took four steps backwards, recited a mantra, and he intended to go above the gray mist to divinate the oil lamp.

Because he didn't have the Holy Night powder and the ceremonial silver dagger, he couldn't make a spiritual wall, but in a solitary room, there was no requirement to use a spiritual wall to isolate him.

The reason why he didn't bring the oil lamp to the gray mist before divination was because he was worried about the unpredictable danger of wrapping this unknown origin in a spirit.

He believed that above the gray mist, the image that appeared on the appliance was enough to divinate its origin.

After all, the object was in front of him, and he had just touched it.