Chapter 321: A Living Person Appears
Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
In the exhibition hall where Roselle's diary was kept, the two Machinery Hivemind members suddenly heard a clatter.
At the same time, they turned their heads to look at the Sealed Artifact made out of blocks above the glass display case.
Inside the scaled down model of the museum's first floor, there was a gray dot that was constantly flashing.
"There's a lifeless object in the nearest washroom." One of the team members made a definite judgment.
The other team member relaxed a little, frowned, and said in a guessing tone, "A dead leaf blown in by the wind?"
"It's possible." The team member who spoke first nodded. "Let's wait till the security guards pass by, we'll get them to check and confirm the situation. Captain told us to stay here and not to leave no matter what happens, especially not alone."
In the event of an urgent emergency, they could evacuate with Roselle's notebook.
"Alright." His companion had no objection to his suggestion.
…
In the office area on the second floor of the museum, Klein was like a floating ghost, passing through one wall after another and flying directly above the restored study.
However, he didn't fly too fast. Instead, he continued to sense the fire spark below and kept track of the distance.
When the straight-line distance reached almost thirty meters, he lifted his illusory and translucent right hand and soundlessly snapped his fingers.
In the washroom on the first floor, the box of matches exploded with a soft bang.
Then, a scarlet flame leaped up and ignited a paper towel, a potted plant, and the wooden door.
The flames didn't spread yet, but it was shocking enough.
The nearby security personnel who heard the noise immediately rushed over. In the exhibition hall that was monitoring the entire situation on the first floor, the two Machinery Hivemind members also saw the flames in the model at the same time and subconsciously wanted to rush over there. This was not only an attempt to extinguish the fire, but they were also prepared to capture the troublemaker.
But the moment they took two steps, they stopped, having remembered their Captain's orders:
Don't leave this exhibition hall, don't leave Roselle's notebook, regardless of the situation!
They looked at each other, then they looked warily at the two entrances to the hall before quietly taking out their own Beyonder weapons.
As Beyonders of the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery, they were never lacking in equipment.
…
At this moment, Max Livermore was patrolling the various exhibition halls on the first floor with a lantern in hand. He had also noticed the commotion and, without thinking, rushed towards the direction of the exhibition hall where Roselle's notebook was located.
The priority to ensure the safety of the items was higher than capturing the intruder!
Moreover, Max believed that no matter what the other party's intentions were, as long as they entered the first floor of the museum and entered any of the halls, they would be under the effect of the Sealed Artifact, and it wouldn't be easy to leave that easily!
If there was no external help, the infiltrator would be trapped inside!
Even if the intruder had a helper, it would still take them quite a bit of time to get rid of the effects.
"Once you enter, you will be like prey that has fallen into a trap!" Max Livermore ran at top speed. After passing through many exhibition halls, he finally saw the silhouettes of his two companions.
At that moment, Klein, who was on the second floor of the museum, had already passed through the doors and walls according to the layout in his memory. He had arrived right above the restored study.
He was in no hurry to carry out any follow-up actions. Instead, he first looked down.
As the stone floor was relatively thick, Klein was unable to vaguely confirm if there were any auras or emotions beneath him. He could only spread his arms wide, fall forward, and silently lie on the ground.
His illusory and transparent figure quickly faded into the ground.
…
On the crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling on the first floor, a faintly discernible human face suddenly appeared.
The strange face overlooked the exhibition hall, its eyes constantly moving, taking in the scenery of every corner in the area.
There are no Beyonders or security personnel… Mumbling to himself, Klein penetrated the ceiling and descended in front of Roselle's glass-covered desk.
He glanced at it, and without hesitation, he reached out with both hands to grab the bookmark in the manuscript of creativity and the bookmark which looked like child's graffiti.
He was trying to prevent a powerful Beyonder, who could reconstruct the scene through magical means, from knowing that he knew which bookmark was abnormal. This was to prevent the investigator from suspecting Miss Justice who had only touched one bookmark.
Augmented by Azik's copper whistle, he passed through the glass case and steadily held the two bookmarks, then he wrapped them within his spirit body.
After finishing this step, Klein's heart calmed down, no longer having any obvious nervousness or tension.
He stretched out his hands again, reaching out for the other bookmarks.
"Waaa! Waaa! Waaa!"
The loud and shrill cry of a baby suddenly reverberated within the exhibition hall.
It was so illusory, as though it came from far, far away.
Klein's body stiffened, freezing all of a sudden like a lake encountering extreme coldness.
In his spirit body state, he appeared to have been frozen!
"Waaa! Waaa! Waaa!"
Along with the cries of the baby were fine black rifts that surrounded Klein like a discontinuous iron fence.
In the blink of an eye, one of the black rifts cracked open, revealing an eyeball filled with blood strands. In the center of the eyeball was a deep pupil, and in it, countless tiny white worms were crawling and squirming.
One, two, three… Black rifts opened successively, and one by one, the bizarre eyeballs were exposed in midair. They stared at Klein in a cold and merciless manner.
As they appeared, everything around them froze in place. Even the illusory spirits were unable to penetrate through them.
It even became hard for Klein to sense the existence of the spirit world. He found it difficult to see the translucent figures that were located infinitely high. He found it hard to see the different colors, the lustrous splendors which contained various types of knowledge.
"Why did you only take the bookmarks?" A soft but unemotional female voice entered Klein's ear.
He froze on the spot and saw a tall bookcase, divided into two levels. The top level almost reached the ceiling, with a staircase and a passage surrounding countless books.
At the top of the stairs sat a figure shrouded by the darkness.
The figure's feet, which wore black leather boots, hung from the wooden stairs as they were suspended in midair.
I actually didn't sense her existence at all… Is she some powerhouse from the Machinery Hivemind? No, she might be a High-Sequence Beyonder! Klein didn't answer; instead, he narrowed his eyes.
"Why did you only take the bookmarks? Where did you learn to only take the bookmarks?"
The figure asked once more. The gentleness had a hint of sternness, and the bloodshot eyeballs surrounding him rapidly widened, as though they wanted to occupy the entire space.
Before she could finish her sentence, Klein revealed a wide smile on his face.
His illusory, nearly translucent figure instantly disappeared, leaving his whereabouts unknown!
Even Azik's copper whistle and the two bookmarks which were wrapped in his spirit body had vanished!
…
Above the gray fog, within the majestic ancient palace.
Klein's figure suddenly appeared at the top of the long, mottled table.
He leaned back into his chair and said with a chuckle, "Fortunately, I was prepared."
The state of his spirit body wasn't part of his Beyonder powers. It didn't originate from the transformation between his physical body and spirit body. This was the result of him summoning himself and responding to his ritual.
And the power of this ritual came from the mysterious space above the gray fog. It stemmed from its special nature!
Hence, as long as Klein succeeded, he wouldn't even need to try to escape. By just ending the summoning directly, he would be able to return to the gray fog and, from here, instantly return to his physical body in the real world!
As the space above the gray fog could block the power of deities like the Eternal Blazing Sun and the True Creator, Klein believed that, without the interference of deities, the summoning wouldn't be interrupted!
As long as the enemy didn't kill his spirit body or instantly knock him unconscious, Klein had the confidence to escape!
This was also the reason why he didn't want to become a spirit body and still make a "long trek" over to the museum. The more time spent, added even more variables.
…
As the faint and dark crimson moonlight shone in from the window, the woman sitting at the top of the stairs between the bookshelves looked at the desk in silence. She looked at the spot where Klein had been. The surrounding cries of the baby and the eyeballs had disappeared one after another.
After an unknown period of time, the top of the stairs suddenly became empty, as if no one had ever been there before.
In the exhibition hall which housed Roselle's diary, Max Livermore said to his two team members, "Watch this place well. I'll go find the infiltrator.
"He must still be trapped somewhere on the first floor by the power of the Sealed Artifact!"
As he spoke, he looked at the Sealed Artifact, the "model" of the first floor of the museum in a bid to find the red dot which represented the infiltrator and lock onto that person's location.
However, no matter how he looked and counted, something didn't seem right.
The number of people hadn't increased!
"This…" Max Livermore froze where he was.
…
18 King's Avenue, in a certain wealthy merchant's storage room.
Klein's eyes lit up again, and the corners of his mouth curled up.
He left the bookmarks and Azik's copper whistle above the gray fog, and he didn't waste time returning to his body.
After extinguishing the candles and ending the ritual, Klein cleaned up the scene. He used a specially concocted medication to neutralize the smell of the Holy Night Powder and the essential oils from the ritual.
After doing all of this, he dispelled the wall of spirituality, allowing the wind to blow away the remaining traces.
Next, he took out his Master Key, planning to go through buildings before taking a rental carriage a distance away.
Using his cane to determine his direction to prevent himself from getting lost and heading back to the Royal Museum or to a particular cathedral, Klein headed off at a brisk pace, opening the walls and doors that stood in his way with the Master Key.
After walking in a straight line for a while, he suddenly felt like he was unable to determine his position.
Hmm… Two more buildings and I'll be out. If I'm no longer on King's Avenue, I'll get a rental carriage, or I'll make another divination? I'll immediately study the Card of Blasphemy once I'm home! Klein quickly made up his mind. He placed the brass key which was simply shaped against the wall and gently twisted it.
As the formless ripples spread out, he arrived at a neighboring building of the terraces.
At this moment, his nose twitched as he smelled a strong stench of blood.
The strong smell of blood! Klein frowned. He looked up and saw a lady laid out in the living room ahead of him.
The woman's expression was filled with pain. There was a large wound at her abdomen, and her internal organs seemed to have disappeared.
At the same time, Klein heard grunting noises.
Chapter 322: The Thrilling Night
Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
The twelfth case!
That Devil serial murderer!
The moment he saw the corpse and heard the sound, Klein's hair stood on end. He knew that he had encountered a bad situation.
Within his line of sight, the living room's decorations were mostly brilliant yellow and bright. There was nothing unusual about the coffee table and sofa. Only the carpet was stained bright red with blood as it slowly soaked through.
On the side of the wound on the female corpse's abdomen, which was completely empty, sat a large sized black dog. Its mouth was half open, revealing many sharp white teeth that sent shivers. On each tooth, there were dark red marks like iron rust. This seemed to be the result of its prolonged consumption of flesh without frequent brushing.
At this moment, the large black dog's teeth were still wrapped around blood-red small intestines, as well as bits and pieces of raw meat.
Its head turned over, and its eyes which resembled magma reflected Klein, who was dressed as a worker, and his disguised face.
"Grunt!" The large black dog let out a roar which sounded like it was showing dominance.
It really is an animal! It's a Sequence 6 Devil, a Devil which is about to advance! And none of the preparations that I made today were for it… These few thoughts instantly flashed through Klein's mind.
Suddenly, the black dog's body expanded rapidly, turning into a two-to three-meter tall monster. On its back, a pair of giant bat wings slowly spread open, and beside its ears, goat horns covered in mysterious patterns grew out.
Red and blue flames leaped from of its luxuriant fur as the strong smell of sulfur followed.
Almost at the same time, Klein stomped on the ground. Instead of retreating, he advanced, swinging his cane as he shot out at the gigantic Devil dog like a cannonball.
Schwing!
The black Devil dog quickly pounced forward. Its sharp claws created afterimages as it swiped at Klein's body.
Without a sound, its claws had penetrated the figure, as if they were piercing through the air!
Klein's figure became faint as it quickly turned transparent.
It was just an illusion!
It was an illusion created by Klein!
At this moment, he had already rolled on the ground and closed in towards the oriel window. Then, with his left hand pressing down, his entire body flew into the air, directly smashing through the glass.
After identifying the enemy, he made up his mind to escape!
Upon seeing this, the eyes of the huge Devil dog immediately lit up like magma, as if there was a raging fire inside.
It opened its mouth, which emitted a putrid smell, and said a word filled with foulness, a word that came from the Devil language, "Die!"
Oof!
Klein's body suddenly stopped, his heart felt as if it was being tightly clenched by an invisible hand.
The figure that was frozen in midair instantly became thin and dim, turning into a crudely cut paper figurine.
And this paper figurine was covered with red rust!
Smash! Clang! Two sounds of indistinguishable order sounded. Klein's figure appeared again, smashing through the oriel window and pouncing towards the stone paved street. The Paper Figurine Substitute slowly floated down as it ignited and emitted the smell of sulfur.
The Devil dog let out a low growl and pounced again, jumping onto the windowsill.
A crimson-blue fireball flew out from its mouth, blasting in the direction of its enemy's escape route.
The moment Klein landed on the ground, he immediately followed up with another roll. The crimson-blue fireball smashed to his side, but it didn't explode immediately, as if it was being affected by an invisible force as though it was being detained.
Boom!
Only after Klein had scrambled a distance away did the fireball expand and explode, shattering the surrounding stone pavements.
Seeing that the Devil dog was about to pursue him, Klein opened his mouth, having prepared for this.
He shouted at the top of his lungs, "Murder! Save me! Murder! Save me!"
His voice seemed to be augmented with special effects. It echoed far and wide through the silent night, waking the residents of the entire street and sending them into the ears of the patrollers who were two streets away.
The giant Devil dog paused in its pouncing posture. After thinking for a second, it retreated back into the room and began to clean up the scene.
Klein's sprinting figure also disappeared under the shouts of "murder" and "save me."
Inside a nearby fireplace that had long since been extinguished, the remnant charcoal suddenly reignited, and an exaggerated flame rose up.
Klein seemed to be performing a magic trick as he appeared out of the flames. With a light leap, he held his cane and jumped out.
Then, he used the Master Key to open the door, tear through walls, and quickly escaped in another direction.
Phew, at a time like this, a scream without Beyonder powers is much more useful than simulating gunshots… Klein sighed as he took out a bottle of Amantha extract and dripped a few drops on himself.
As the original race of the Devil was of the dog species, he had to be wary of its scent-tracking abilities being one of its special powers!
In this way, Klein continued on until he reached another cross-junction. Only then did he stop and look around.
Seeing that it was relatively quiet and unaffected, he hurried to the side of the street and hired a rental carriage.
It was only after the carriage had traveled a certain distance in the night when Klein finally heave a breath of relief. He knew that the Devil wouldn't catch up to him.
This Master Key is really strange… I actually got lost and found myself at the scene of the murder. I have to be a lot more careful when using it in the future… That really was a Devil transformed from an animal… Where did its potions and formulas come from? Does it have a human companion? How did it pick its target for the serial murder?
Hmm, what's gratifying is that after confirming this point, it will be much more difficult for it to commit crimes again, and the probability of getting caught will also greatly increase…
All sorts of thoughts and questions appeared in Klein's mind as the carriage sped along the wide, deserted road which was lined with gas street lamps.
Suddenly, Klein's heart skipped a beat, and an image naturally appeared in his mind.
Pea vines drooped down from the sky and interweaved to form a dense forest. However, the carriage driver didn't seem to notice and continued to drive the carriage across the green vegetation.
No good!
Without hesitation, Klein lunged for the window, about to jump into the street.
Bang! The carriage shook, and he was flung backward.
At the same time, those pea vines really drooped down!
Klein frowned as he attempted to use Flame Controlling to ignite the carriage, but no sound came from his fingers.
At this moment, the surroundings had become abnormally quiet. Even the sounds of the horses' hooves trampling and the rapid rumbling of the wheels over the green vegetation had disappeared.
Klein tried his best to calm himself down as he looked out the window and saw that the carriage had been driven into the air, following the road of pea vines.
No, this isn't Backlund… He narrowed his eyes.
At this moment, the carriage stopped. Outside the window, the pea vines had formed a hammock in the air.
A pair of feet in black leather boots drooped down, and a gentle but emotionless voice entered Klein's ears.
"What were you doing?"
It's that woman inside the museum… She's suspected to be a High-Sequence Beyonder… She doesn't seem to recognize me. After all, I had disguised myself with Azik's copper whistle… She must have heard the cry for help and came over to check… Klein's thoughts were abnormally active at that moment.
He deliberately gulped and said, "I'm a private detective. Many friends and I are investigating the recent serial murders.
"I have a mystical item called the 'Master Key.' It can open doors and let me pass through walls, but it will cause the holder to get lost.
"It was during this process that I ran into the scene of the crime. Because I wasn't the murderer's opponent, I could only shout for help while running."
Everything I said was the truth… Klein silently added in his heart.
After he finished speaking, there was temporarily no response from the outside. However, he felt that a gaze had penetrated the carriage, passed through the obstructions, and was directly inspecting the items on his body.
Fortunately, I left Azik's copper whistle and the bookmarks above the gray fog just in case… At that moment, Klein was very glad.
Caution and carefulness were indeed useful!
After the indescribable and torturous silence, the gentle but emotionless female voice finally sounded again.
"That key has a certain curse. It must not be used unless absolutely necessary."
As soon as she finished her sentence, the surroundings changed completely. Everything—the pea vines, the road through the forest, the road to the sky—had all disappeared. The carriage continued on the streets, driving between the elegant iron-black gas street lamps.
Klein remained on tenterhooks until the carriage arrived near East Borough, where he paid the fare of 8 soli.
Under normal circumstances, a rental carriage wouldn't enter any of East Borough streets because it was likely to be robbed.
In one of the rooms on Black Palm Street, Klein changed his clothes and went straight to sleep. He didn't attempt to return to Minsk Street before midnight. The twelfth murder had just occurred, and it would only serve to make Backlund's situation tenser.
He didn't immediately go above the gray fog to study the secret of the "bookmark." He acted just as he had described himself to the mysterious woman. He was a Low-Sequence Beyonder, a private investigator with some Beyonder powers.
Tonight sure was filled with surprises. It was rather thrilling. All I did was steal something… Yes, most of the problems can be blamed on the Master Key… Klein made a self-deprecating comment and quickly fell asleep.
The next morning, he breathed in the choking smog as he slowly strolled home and picked up the newspapers and letters from his mailbox.
After opening the door, he casually flipped opened the newspaper to take a look and found that the headline was as he had expected: "The twelfth case!"
"The Devil has appeared again. The police have declared that they have locked onto the murderer!"
…
As for the theft of the objects in the Royal Museum, it was only mentioned in an inconspicuous location. In fact, the article didn't even mention what the stolen object was.
The unstamped letter that came with the newspaper was a water bill that Klein had to pay for himself. He glanced at it and casually threw it on the coffee table. He then returned to the second floor to heat up water for a bath.
He waited until the water vapor filled the bathroom before he seized the opportunity to take four steps counterclockwise to enter the space above the gray fog.
Inside the immutable ancient palace, Klein sat down and picked up the bookmark that depicted the figure of Emperor Roselle.
It really wasn't easy getting you! He gently caressed the surface of the cardboard and silently sighed.
Chapter 323: The Opening Incantation
Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
The bookmark was, on the surface, nothing special. Roselle's portraits had been placed everywhere around the exhibition hall, and the image depicted was from the period when he was middle-aged.
Klein kept flipping the bookmark repeatedly, in scrutiny, and found a tiny puncture, thereby confirming that this was the bookmark which Miss Justice had verified.
He tried to spread his spirituality, and he slowly injected it inside. However, just like with ordinary objects, his spirituality only flowed and failed to permeate it, nor did it cause any abnormal changes.
That's right, Roselle had the intention of finding someone who was fated, so he wouldn't specifically restrict it to Beyonders… Klein thought for a moment, then said softly in Feysac, "Pirate King!"
The bookmark still didn't respond.
He tried the words in ancient Feysac, Intis, Loen, and other languages again, but the result was the same.
As for Jotun, Elvish, Dragonese, and other languages from the mysticism domain, Klein could only try them out of hope since they was overly restrictive and unlikely to be the language used.
Without a doubt, he failed.
Immediately following that, Klein used Feysac again as he translated, "One Piece!"
The bookmark lay quietly on his palm, showing no sign of abnormality.
Klein tried the steps he did from before, using different languages again, but he was constantly met with failure.
It seems that my initial guess was wrong. The young Roselle might've used the meme of Pirate King to make a joke, but he might not necessarily do that when he was older. People will ultimately grow old and change. Klein reflected over his mistake as he tapped the edge of the long, mottled table with his finger, trying hard to infer from the bits of information that the diary had provided to unlock the bookmark.
After a while, he took out a pen and paper, and he wrote down his thought process so as to avoid any confusion or contradictions.
While doing this, Roselle was definitely maniacal and in despair. It also clearly showcases his warped humor. "The fated ones will receive it" is proof considering how it doesn't suit the world's lingo at present.
Therefore, I can be certain that he really wanted someone to discover the uniqueness of the Cards of Blasphemy by chance.
In that case, the unlocking method can't be too unimaginable, or something that will often appear in daily life.
What Roselle required was a coincidence. For example, when someone holds the worthless bookmark and randomly says a specific word, then, congratulations, you have obtained a fortuitous opportunity! Yes, this is very in line with his warped humor.
Going by this logical train of thought, different Cards of Blasphemy should have different unlocking incantations. Using a single term to unlock all the Cards of Blasphemy clearly isn't congruent with Roselle's style.
What is the incantation for unlocking this card? Well, the first things that can be ruled out are the words that are commonly used, words that are said all the time.
Also, when creating the Cards of Blasphemy, Roselle's state was in despair, maniacal, unwilling to part with it, reminiscent, struggling, and angry. I can try to immerse myself in that state of mind and imagine myself to be Roselle at that point in time. I can imagine what kind of incantation I would have used.
Klein stopped writing and began acting as Roselle in a bid to find some inspiration.
He first tried out vulgarities in different languages, including ancient Feysac, as well as terms pertaining to hope, but unfortunately, was rewarded with failure.
Immediately after, he tried to figure out what would be the last thing a desperate powerhouse would be reluctant to part.
His wife, Matilda? Such a licentious guy shouldn't have such deep feelings for his first wife.
His children? The eldest daughter, Bernadette; the eldest son, Ciel; and the second son, Bornova…
According to the diary, the person he can't get over the most was his daughter, Bernadette, who might become an important figure in the mysterious world.
Klein paused, took a breath, and prepared to try again.
"Bernadette," he said in the Intis language.
The bookmark didn't respond.
Klein switched to the languages of Loen, Highlander, and Feysac, but still failed to achieve the desired results.
He sighed and said with a deep voice which corresponded to ancient Feysac, "Bernadette."
This name echoed in the empty and quiet gray fog like it was nothing special. Just as Klein was about to search for new inspiration, he suddenly felt the bookmark in his hand sink!
It immediately turned into an invisible whirlpool which wildly absorbed Klein's mental energies.
For an ordinary person, this was a huge burden, but for a Sequence 7 Magician, it wasn't especially draining. Klein easily survived this hurdle and couldn't conceal his joy as he looked at the object in his palm.
A bright light emitted, bit by bit, from the bookmark, and the image of Emperor Roselle on the outside was being replaced by an entirely new image.
He was sitting on an ancient stone throne as he wore a black crown embedded with various precious stones on his head. He wore pitch-black armor, and a cape of the same color was draped over his body. He held a scepter, and he looked forward with cold, aloof eyes.
On the upper-left corner of the bookmark, there was a line of text condensed from the bright radiance of stars.
"Sequence 0: Dark Emperor!"
Sequence 0! Indeed, the secrets of the gods are hidden within! The Dark Emperor is actually Sequence 0… Klein thought with a smile, half sighing and half surprised.
Soon after, the bookmark became three-dimensional, like a miniature book.
The book moved without the wind, revealing a Roselle in a white hood. Beside it was a corresponding description in ancient Feysac.
"Sequence 9, Lawyer.
"Good at discovering and using loopholes in the rules and the weaknesses of their opponents. Possesses excellent eloquence and reasoning skills…
"Potion formula…"
Klein glanced at the formula ingredients but didn't look carefully. He reached out his hand and touched it, making the book flip to the next page.
"Sequence 8: Barbarian.
"Problems that cannot be solved by the law will be solved by force. This is also one of the rules… The Beyonders at this Sequence have a high resistance to psychological influences…
"Potion formula…"
As Klein touched it, the book conjured from the Card of Blasphemy flipped through one page at a time.
"Sequence 7: Briber."
…
"Sequence 6: Baron of Corruption."
…
"Sequence 5: Mentor of Confusion".
…
"Sequence 4: Count of The Fallen"
…
"Sequence 3: Frenzied Mage."
…
"Sequence 2: Duke of Entropy."
…
"Sequence 1: Prince of Disorder."
…
"Sequence 0: Dark Emperor."
…
After skimming through the book, Klein couldn't help but sigh.
This really hides the profound secrets of becoming a God!
It's no wonder all of the High-Sequence Beyonders who tread this pathway will attempt to establish their own kingdoms, and walk the lands.
It's because the ritual of becoming a god requires it!
To advance from Sequence 1, the Prince of Disorder, to Dark Emperor, the necessary ritual requires one to possess their own country, linking their name to the title of Emperor, making it common knowledge among the populace. Furthermore, one needed to establish a set of strict and complicated rules that defied normality, including architectural styles.
Then, they would spur on their citizens to secretly establish nine mausoleums that were similar to pyramids. After which, they would enter one of the mausoleums. With a large majority of the citizens who would be scattered across different cities in corresponding sacrificial rituals involved, the Prince of Disorder would imbibe the Sequence 9 potion.
Once the advancement was successful, the Dark Emperor wouldn't truly die until all the nine secret mausoleums were destroyed. Even if "He" was annihilated, "He" would still be able to awaken and return from one of the mausoleums.
What was even more terrifying was that even if the deity was successfully killed and all nine mausoleums destroyed, as long as a certain amount of the order set up by that deity remained, it was still possible for "Him" to mysteriously revive. It appeared to be a loophole against death.
The best way to completely obliterate "Him" was for a new Dark Emperor to appear!
"This is a deity!
"Mortals cannot fight against deities; same for angels.
"Those who have yet to become deities will never be able to fathom the power of deities."
Roselle exposited with deep implications at the end.
In addition, Klein also knew one thing, once there was a True God with a Sequence 0, it was impossible for a Sequence 1 Beyonder to appear. If there was no Sequence 0, then, in the same way, there would be at most three Sequence 1 Beyonders. This was a result of the Law of Beyonder Characteristics Indestructibility and Conservation!
According to the Dark Emperor Card of Blasphemy's description of the 10 Sequences, Klein could clearly see that the greatest feature of this pathway was the shadow of it gradually evolving into order!
Roselle also mentioned that if one had that Card of Blasphemy in hand after advancing to a High-Sequence Beyonder, the card would have a subtle reaction to the Beyonder ingredients that the person needed!
Of course, it was limited to High-Sequence Beyonders of the Dark Emperor pathway.
What a pity, this is of no use to me. Klein looked at the Card of Blasphemy thin down again, turning back into a poker card.
However, it was no longer in disguise. On the surface, it depicted Roselle sitting on a stone throne—Sequence 0 Dark Emperor!
Klein remained silent for a few seconds before he sighed silently.
This card's biggest use to me is to exchange the formulas for the items I need. There's also some information about deities and Sequences. Apart from that, there's almost no other use for it.
Heh, at the very least, as the leader of the Tarot Club and as The Fool, I will no longer be an empty shell. I now hold one path of the divine, and it's not like I can't produce a High-Sequence Beyonder formula anymore!
Yes… I remember that at the Beyonder gathering organized by Old Mister "Eye of Wisdom," the lady who is suspected to have an Artisan backing her has been always seeking to purchase the potion formula of Barbarian.
As his mind whirled, Klein took another look at the Roselle portrait on the Dark Emperor card and couldn't help laughing.
He has made every Sequence in his own image. What a narcissist…
I'm suddenly very curious what the Card of Blasphemy for the Demoness pathway would look like. Hehe.
Reining in his thoughts, Klein destroyed the other bookmark he had casually picked up and discovered that it was just an ordinary bookmark.
After doing all of this, he changed his seating posture and leaned back into his chair. He responded to Miss Justice's plea from last night and said calmly, "That was a Card of Blasphemy made by Roselle."
Chapter 324: Imagined and Real "Adorer"
Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
Empress Borough, Count Hall's home, dining room.
As per usual tradition, Audrey was saying grace with her father, mother, and elder brother before dinner.
"Praise the Goddess!" She tapped her chest in four spots in a clockwise manner to end the prayer.
However, before she finished speaking, her vision was covered by a thick gray fog. A distant figure that seemed to be looking down at everyone and everything opened his mouth with dominance.
"That was a Card of Blasphemy made by Roselle."
Mr. Fool… Card of Blasphemy? Audrey, who finally received a response, was joyful at first, but then she fell into a daze. She couldn't understand what the so-called Card of Blasphemy referred to.
However, she quickly made a guess. She had always known that Emperor Roselle had made a secret deck of cards representing some unknown force which had twenty-two cards in total. It was believed to have been referenced from tarot cards.
Furthermore, she had also heard from The Hanged Man that the secret to the deck of cards was that they hid the paths of the divine, the path to becoming a god!
So it's called a Card of Blasphemy… It corresponds to the Blasphemy Slate… This is definitely a treasure of the highest level in the mysterious world!
The paths of the divine!
It's no wonder that Mr. Fool's adorer had to ask for help. He wanted to ensure that the card was the real one before taking action. It was to prevent a mistake from happening. Instead of getting the right target, it might end up informing the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery that a particular bookmark hides a Card of Blasphemy.
I wonder if he succeeded…
The Beyonders from the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery haven't come to make any routine inquiries. Perhaps, he's still making plans…
As her body trembled faintly, Audrey once again saw a figure praying inside the thick fog, an extremely blurry figure.
He was saying respectfully, "The Great Fool, please convey my gratitude to the authenticator. This allowed my operation to go smoothly.
"For that, I'm willing to raise the reward to 3,000 pounds which can be deducted from the 5,000 pounds that haven't been paid yet. This is the share that the other party deserves."
He succeeded? He succeeded just like that? But when I looked at the front pages of those newspapers, there was no news of the theft at the exhibition. It was all news of the twelfth victim of the serial murder… Raising the reward to 3,000 pounds implies that Mr. Fool's adorer had indeed succeeded in retrieving the bookmark containing the Card of Blasphemy without anyone noticing! How cool! Although the term invented by Emperor Roselle may not be elegant, reserved, or in line with my identity as a noble identity, it's the only impression that I feel right now!
Our Tarot Club now has a complete path of the divine in its control!
It should be a complete one, right?
I wonder which one it is.
But regardless, this represents the path to becoming a god!
Under the glory of Mr. Fool, we will one day become the most powerful hidden faction in the world!
I wonder if the other bookmarks hide Cards of Blasphemy…
Audrey controlled her excitement as she felt longing and pride. She allowed the dining maid to help her spread out a napkin before her gaze shifted to Count Hall, who habitually read the newspapers while having breakfast.
"Father, is there anything worth paying attention to today?"
Count Hall sighed and said, "That devil has killed another innocent person. It's the 12th case. She's a fashion designer who had just become famous. She had only been a street girl a few times due to her desperate need for money, but she ended up encountering such a terrible situation.
"Thankfully, there was an eyewitness. The person witnessed the devil at the crime scene. Heh, he was really scared out of his wits. He constantly shouted on the streets 'murder' and 'save me.' Heh heh. I have to say that his cries for help did bring acceptable results. The devil didn't chase after him.
"As a result, the police have locked onto the suspect and are hunting him down."
Audrey drew the crimson moon on her chest once again and said, "May their operation succeed.
"Father, from what you just said, it sure was a horrible but funny scene.
"I hope that eyewitness won't have nightmares because of it."
And on the same night, Mr. Fool's adorer took one of the Cards of Blasphemy from the heavily protected museum without alerting anyone… Audrey added wistfully in her mind and filled in some of the details herself.
…
Royal Museum, in the restored study.
"Are you sure that only two bookmarks were stolen?" the Machinery Hivemind squad's Captain Max Livermore asked his team members.
As he spoke, he stole a glance at the important figure standing in front of the desk with his back facing him.
It was an old man wearing a white clerical robe and a clerical cap. He was the head of the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery for the Backlund diocese. He was a member of the Divine Council, Archbishop Horamick Haydn.
This important figure wasn't only a clergyman, but he was also a very famous scientist, a distinguished professor of physics at Backlund University.
"Yes, only two bookmarks were stolen," The team member being questioned answered with certainty.
Max nodded slightly and looked at Horamick Hayden. After some thought, he deliberated and asked, "Your Excellency, after the closing of the museum yesterday evening, some aristocratic children came to visit. They had touched parts of the exhibited items, including one of the two bookmarks that were stolen. Do I need to get them to cooperate with the investigation?"
"I know about that." Horamick's hands naturally drooped down as he turned around and said in a calm tone, "I've already confirmed that those aristocratic children are not related to the thief who stole the bookmarks, so there's no need to get them to cooperate with the investigation."
"Yes, Your Excellency." Max himself didn't think there was anything wrong with the aristocratic children, not to mention that Archbishop Haydn had enough mysticism knowledge and Beyonder techniques to confirm it.
Horamick's gentle and benevolent face didn't show the slightest trace of anger. He looked around and said, "There was more than one person here last night, at least two of them. They were divided into two opposing groups.
"One of them might even be of a higher Sequence than me, while the other had somehow escaped mysteriously.
"Although I'm unable to reconstruct the entire scene, there are still some things that I can 'see.'
"This matter is more complicated than we thought."
At this point, he sighed.
"I also know why they wanted to steal the bookmarks.
"We've been tricked by Roselle for more than 150 years…"
…
Giving up 3,000 pounds sure does hurts. I've saved up for so long and yet, I have less than 1,000 pounds… However, the Card of Blasphemy is a priceless treasure that cannot be exchanged, even with money. The contribution Miss Justice had made in this matter is definitely worth the price…
Thankfully, I could deduct it from what she owes me, lightening my burden. If I ever meet Mr. Azik in the future, I'll pay him the 15,000 pounds that belong to the "adorer" with a High-Sequence Beyonder formula… I wonder what the other Cards of Blasphemy were disguised to look like. According to the personality of the Emperor, they should all be rather surprising… After Klein finished his reply and looked out the palace at the sea of gray fog, he silently sighed.
As a precaution, he temporarily left his Dark Emperor card above the gray fog, on the surface of the long bronze table facing the seat of The Fool. He did so for Azik's copper whistle as well.
When he returned to the real world, he held a ritual again and summoned himself to throw the Master Key, a Sealed Artifact which was an amalgamation of getting lost and having bad luck, above the gray fog. Although it didn't seem to have huge negative effects, it was enough to cause one to encounter life-threatening situations. He planned not to use it unless necessary.
The Master Key is just a relic of an unlucky fellow who had just advanced to Sequence 9. Yet, it has a negative influence that even a Mid-Sequence Beyonder is unable to weaken… It seems like there's an additional factor in the reason why the Apprentice lost control, which led to something abnormal…
Now that I think about it, my previous decision was correct. To explore 32 Verdi Street south of the bridge, I need to be careful and be prepared…. Yes, I need to be aware of something. A Sealed Artifact's effects might not be completely related to the owner's Sequence. I have to consider multiple factors, such as whether or not it has been contaminated by an evil god…
Klein took a bath with the water that had already turned cold before walking out of the bathroom, refreshed. He went downstairs to enjoy the corn pancakes he had bought on his way back. They were local delights of the Feynapotter Klein's Highlands—crispy, fragrant, and sweet.
After he had eaten his fill, he went through his experiences from last night to see if he had left any clues behind.
Even with the Master Key, if I'm not a Beyonder, it's impossible for me to escape from the hands of a Devil. Back then, the mysterious and powerful lady must've determined that I wasn't an ordinary private detective. I also didn't have any intention of hiding that point.
By not capturing me, this implies that she's either an official Beyonder who is friendly to wild Beyonders, or she's not a member of the three Churches or the military. Yes, I'm more inclined with the latter point. The former point would most likely have her confiscate the Master Key. Sigh, back then, I was almost on the brink of despair. I thought I would be detained in the underground prison of the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery like ordinary Beyonders. I even began considering my prison break. Who would've known that she would just leave.
Which organization is she from? Or is she wild? No, for wild Beyonders to reach her level of power, they must have an organization of their own.
That Devil dog would definitely use its Beyonder powers to erase clues related to itself, and that naturally includes me. In the field of mysticism, there is no way to separate them, and that lady probably can't be exposed as well. From the looks of it, the clues that I left behind while escaping had most likely have been interfered with.
As for what happened in the museum, they will be searching for a special spirit body, a strange existence, and what has that got to do with me, Sherlock Moriarty? Klein mocked himself as his heart grew calmer.
Of course, he had dared to return home because he had divined it in advance. It was just like he was unafraid that the museum contained traps that he found completely unsolvable.
Phew, this matter has come to an end… What should I do today? Practice my Beyonder powers and go to the Quelaag Club to scrounge a meal in passing? Well, I don't know if the Nighthawks and Mandated Punishers have identified the murderer or not. Why don't I write another letter to Isengard Stanton and give myself a hint?As his thoughts raced, Klein heard someone from outside approach before leaving.
Another letter? He opened the door in puzzlement, and indeed, he saw a letter lying in his mailbox.
The letter was from Isengard Stanton.
Chapter 325: The Equestrian Teacher's Problem
Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
When he returned to the living room, Klein picked up a letter opener and opened the envelope before taking out Isengard Stanton's letter.
The famous detective wrote:
"Your idea has greatly helped us. Please allow me to thank you here first.
"After receiving your letter, we immediately organized some people to sweep through crucial areas. As expected, we found some clues, and quite a few stray animals that had frequently appeared and were remembered by the residents had disappeared.
"In the process, we also noticed an interesting thing. Four years ago, in the serial murder case, yes—the targets were single prostitutes with a child. Quite a few people living near the scene of the crime had mentioned that although the most suspicious teenager was eccentric and vicious, he was quite fond of animals, especially a large black dog.
"After the boy died in the gang firefight, the people who lived around him never saw the dog again.
"I'm curious. Who is its current owner? Was it the murderer of some unsolved serial murder case from even further back?
"The above facts have all been proven to be true at the scene of the 12th murder case, and it has played a key role in giving the police a preliminary idea of the suspect. If all goes well, and the culprit is arrested, we will be able to get the majority of the reward money.
"My friend, I clearly remember your contribution. I will not forget your share."
…
Isengard Stanton seems to suspect that I knew the truth about the Devil, so he had deliberately hinted at something? Klein put down the letter and mumbled silently.
However, this letter also made him feel relieved.
The official Beyonders weren't looking for the wrong person!
If the gigantic Devil dog didn't get receive any additional help, then it was only a matter of time before it was caught and killed.
As for Isengard Stanton's prediction that there was another master, Klein didn't have enough evidence to confirm the matter, so it could only be said that there was a certain probability.
In short, my mission ends here. The job is now left to the Nighthawks, Mandated Punishers, and Machinery Hivemind squads. Klein pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, picked up a fountain pen, and replied Isengard Stanton with a letter filled with humility. He also ignored his subtle hints like a real, ordinary private detective.
After cutting another paper figurine and sending the letter, Klein strolled to the public carriage stop to wait. He thought in a relaxed manner, The next thing to do is wait for the money…
Leppard said he would be visiting the Roselle Memorial Exhibition for three days straight. I'll have to wait until Saturday before visiting to find him and make the final payment. Hopefully, the patent for the bicycle will be filed by then. Sigh, the Backlund Patent Office seems to be known for its inefficiency.
Klein had already made plans for the day. Since there was no Beyonder gathering, resulting in him being unable to buy the appropriate items, he suddenly had a lot of free time. He didn't need to busy himself for a short period of time.
In the morning, I'll go to the Quelaag Club, practice my marksmanship, practice my Beyonder powers, have lunch there, and then find a better circus to observe the magician's performance and see if I can get some inspiration. He took out his golden pocket watch and looked at it. He boarded the public carriage in a good mood.
…
Hillston Borough, Quelaag Club.
Since Klein came by at least twice a week, the attendants remembered him and didn't require him to show his proof of membership or his Frost constellation badge.
It was Wednesday morning, and since most of the Quelaag Club's members belonged to the middle-class, where they still had fixed and decent jobs, it was difficult for them to visit the club unless it was Sunday, tea time, or when they took time off from work.
The spacious and bright hall seemed abnormally empty. There were only a few people sitting in the corner where the coffee tables and sofas were.
Glancing around, Klein spotted an acquaintance and went up to greet him, "Talim, with such terrific weather today, you should be at the turf club."
The acquaintance was Talim, the aristocratic equestrian teacher who had introduced him to the club at the request of Mrs. Mary Dumont. He had once brought Klein business—the protection of Daily Observer reporter Mike Joseph on his trip to the Golden Rose for investigations.
Talim looked up, touched his short brown curls, and smiled.
"Oh my, it's the honorable great detective. What have you been up to? I haven't seen you in a long time. "
That's because you haven't been to the club for days… Klein smiled as he sat on the sofa next to Talim.
"I've been helping the police with the serial murder case. Although it might not necessarily yield any results, the reward is tempting enough. Besides, establishing good relations with the police is very important for us private investigators."
What I just said was bragging. I'm just an unremarkable character who'd been summoned… he mocked himself inwardly.
Among the few members sitting in the same sofa area behind them, a man who appeared to be a stockbroker initiated a discussion on the latest Western Railway shares and East Balam Plantation shares.
Talim didn't doubt Klein's answer. He chuckled and said, "This is indeed something that will busy a great detective."
After exchanging a few pleasantries, he gradually entered a pensive state.
Just as Klein was about to bid him farewell and leave for the underground shooting range, Talim suddenly looked at him and said, "Mr. Moriarty, may I ask you a question?
"Uh, you can charge me a consultation fee."
"This one is free. Also, just call me Sherlock." Klein laughed.
Talim nodded gently and said hesitantly, "I have a friend who has fallen in love with someone he shouldn't have. How should he deal with such a situation?"
Although I had always believed that anyone who asks a question prefaced with "I have a friend" basically means "I myself," Talim's emotional colors implies that it's not for himself. He's in a dilemma, but I can't see any traces of pain… After activating his Spirit Vision, Klein leaned back slightly, clasped his hands, and said, "I'm sorry, but I'm not a psychiatrist or any of the experts in the newspapers or magazines who are good at solving emotional problems.
"My only advice is not to break the law.
"Heh heh, that was a joke. First, we need to understand how this 'shouldn't have' arose. Is there a feud between the family?"
Talim glanced at him and said in resignation, "No, this isn't Romeo and Juliet!"
Upon hearing Talim's reply, Klein seemed to hear an illusory murmur in his ears.
Author: Roselle Gustav… Author: Roselle Gustav… Author: Roselle Gustav…
Shaking his head, he apologized to Shakespeare and smiled.
"This piece of work by Emperor Roselle is just too classic. When it comes to love that shouldn't be, I can't help but think of it.
"Then why shouldn't they be together?"
Talim fell silent for a few seconds before saying, "I have to keep it confidential. I'm sorry, just pretend I didn't ask."
Confidential? That must be someone with certain standing… In love with someone of the same sex? In love with someone who is related by blood? Klein held back his curiosity and said with his hands spread out, "Then I can only give you one more suggestion. Read best-sellers about passionate love like Stormwind Mountain Villa and Love and Jealousy."
Talim quivered his lips a few times, sighed, and said, "Sigh, that can only be used as the last resort. In my opinion, the feelings present in those best-selling novels simply don't seem to occur among normal people."
"I think so too!" Klein echoed in full agreement.
After exchanging a smile with Talim, he got up and went to the underground shooting range to practice his shooting and Beyonder powers. When it was almost noon, he returned to the first floor and went straight to the buffet cafeteria.
He had noticed earlier that the cuisine that was in limited supply today was red wine fried foie gras, paired with sliced apples and bread soaked in butter.
After taking his food, Klein carried his tray to the table where Talim was sitting. At that moment, there was another acquaintance of his, who, by the same token, had recommended his membership. He was the surgeon, Aaron Ceres.
Before he could sit down after setting the tray down, Klein noticed a crutch leaning against the chair of the famous surgeon.
"Aaron, what's wrong?" he asked with concern.
The tall and thin man wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses and had a cold appearance. He lightly patted his right leg and said, "No, don't mention it. It's really bad luck! I fell down the stairs and suffered rather serious fractures, so I could only fix it with a plaster."
"You really were unlucky." Klein sighed in agreement, cut a piece of foie gras, dipped it in sauce, and put it in his mouth. The fragrance that was emitted the moment they melted in his mouth stimulated all of his taste buds.
"I've been out of luck for a long time." Aaron nudged his spectacle frames and rubbed his temples in passing.
He then looked at Klein, then at Talim before asking hesitantly, "Mr. Moriarty, do you—do you…"
"What?" Klein looked up.
Aaron lowered his voice.
"You're a famous detective. You should know a lot of people, right?"
"It's quite alright," Klein didn't understand what Aaron was up to as he answered perfunctorily.
Aaron looked at Talim again and took a deep breath.
"Do you know anyone who's like a village witch doctor? No, I mean, some of the more capable fortune-tellers or mysticism enthusiasts. I think… I feel that my recent string of bad luck is too abnormal…
"I know it's likely to be a fake or a scam, but there's no other way of shirking my bad luck. I've tried to go to church, praying, donating, attending Mass, but it didn't work at all."
Capable fortune-teller and mysticism enthusiast… You seem to be talking about me… Klein pondered and said, "Aaron, tell us in detail about what happened to you."
By his side, Talim nodded as well.
"Don't worry, I may be a believer of the Lord, but I don't reject things regarding mysticism."
Aaron sighed in distress.
"There are a lot of things. For example, making mistakes at the operating table. Encountering an accident on the steam locomotive. I found that my house had been burgled when I returned home. When I went to the hospital, I ended up falling down the stairs… Do you think someone has cursed me?"
Yes, I've heard Aaron mention something like this before… Klein frowned slightly.
As a former Nighthawk, it was easy for him to associate this description with a Sealed Artifact: Misfortune Cloth Puppet!
Could it be a similar item? He activated his Spirit Vision and asked seriously, "Aaron, think back carefully. Before those unfortunate events began happening, one after another, did you or your family—yes, your family—encounter any unfortunate events?"
Chapter 326: "Professional" Suggestion
Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
Klein had wanted to ask if Aaron or his family had brought home anything which was relatively more unusual—such as a slightly dirty rag doll—before the unlucky events befell him.
But as soon as the words reached his mouth, he suddenly felt that it was too direct and could easily expose the fact that he knew a lot about mysticism. Although this could be explained away by the fact that he was experienced and knowledgeable, there was no need for him to take the risk.
Instead, he took a more roundabout approach and asked Dr. Aaron if his family had suffered the same ill luck.
Upon hearing his question, Aaron Ceres carefully recalled and said, "No, except for the steam locomotive accident that occurred to them as well, they were the same as before. Most of the time, they didn't experience anything especially lucky or unlucky. The rest can be said to be of both types, so they can't be considered especially unlucky."
That's not right… If it was an item that needs to be sealed like the Misfortune Cloth Puppet, it would definitely affect people within a certain range… Could it be that Aaron has dripped his blood on it, and the two of them have established a firm connection? In Klein's Spirit Vision, Aaron's aura and mood matched his physical and mental state, and there was nothing special about him.
He asked after some thought, "Is there any colleague at the hospital that is as unlucky as you?"
"No, so I think I must've been cursed by someone." Aaron pulled at his bow tie, looking anxious and uneasy.
Under Talim's curious gaze, Klein thought for a moment and said, "Before you became unlucky, did you encounter any relatively stranger matters, such as cutting yourself? In folklore, blood is the powerful medium through which curses can be formed."
"After I suspected that I was cursed, I have confirmed this point. I have not lost any blood in the past three months," Aaron replied with a heavy mood as he held his knife and fork.
That's a little strange… I can't perform a more complicated divination in front of them… Klein asked again, "Then, were there other strange matters?"
"Aaron, think back carefully. This kind of matter can't happen without a reason. Have you offended anyone recently? Or have you become an obstacle towards others?" Talim echoed with concern.
Aaron looked down at the food on the plate and fell into deep thought. Klein didn't stay idle either. He took care of his food before it turned cold and unpleasant.
By the time he started enjoying the dessert, Aaron finally raised his head and said, "I'm not a very sociable person. I don't have a good relationship with my colleagues, but it's hard to believe that they would come up with a way to curse me.
"Well… After your reminder, I do remember something. It might be related to mysticism."
"What is it?" Klein and Talim's spirits were lifted at the same time.
"Before my continuous bad luck streak, I was in charge of a patient, a child who wasn't even ten years old. He was very pitiful. Due to some complications, I had to amputate his left leg." Aaron nudged his glasses and recalled. "I just became a father not long ago, so I'm always filled with sympathy for the misfortune of a child. Every time I check the ward, I would chat with him, encourage him, and comfort him."
After a pause, Aaron's thoughts turned more fluid.
"I remember that it was the day before his surgery. I specially went to his ward to look for him, and he was really upset. He was playing tarot cards, which he had brought with him when he was admitted to the hospital. His family wasn't even allowed to take them away.
"In order to calm him down, I began playing tarot cards with him.
"Back then, I drew a card. It was the reversed Wheel of Fortune.
"That child looked at me and said with a pure and innocent smile, 'Doctor, your luck will get worse.'"
"Doctor, your luck will get worse…" Talim drew a breath and said, "Why do I feel that such a scene and such words make my body feel cold… Did the child die on the operating table?"
Aaron shook his head.
"That operation was a success. It didn't take long for him to be discharged from the hospital. He even specially thanked me.
"So, I've never suspected this, but now that I think back, I find that this is the only time in the past two months that I have come into contact with something related to mysticism. No matter what, regardless of whether it is useful or not, tarot cards are still used for divination."
At some point, a brass coin had appeared in Klein's hand. It was bouncing and rolling at his fingertips, seemingly symbolizing the analysis process of a "famous detective."
The coin was flicked up and fell into the palm of his hand. Klein glanced at it out of the corner of his eye and asked, having "ended" his thinking, "What's that boy's name? Where does he live?"
Aaron answered without hesitation, "His name is Will Auceptin. As for where he lives, I don't remember.
"What is your suggestion, Mr. Detective?
"Do you know any experts in the field of mysticism?"
Klein took a sip of his black tea and said with a smile under the expectant gazes of Aaron and Talim, "My suggestion is to go to the cathedral of the deity you believe in, tell the bishop about your recent misfortune, and then ask him if he has a solution. Aaron, I remember you were a believer of, uh—the Evernight Goddess, right?"
He had almost said Goddess, but fortunately, he remembered his identity as a detective who believed in the God of Steam and Machinery.
"However, my prayers to the Goddess, my participation in Mass, and the donation of money and items were all useless. I think I should find some capable fortune-tellers." Aaron didn't agree with Detective Moriarty's suggestion.
Talim echoed with a nod, "Yes, the deities wouldn't care if you were lucky or not. Luck is a blessing, and misfortune is a test."
Friend, your faith isn't pious enough. Be careful, the Lord of the Storms might zap you with a lightning bolt… Klein looked at the two separately and laughed.
"This suggestion is based on very simple logic.
"If—and I mean if—there exists useful and effective mysticism in this world, then the ones who are best at it are definitely the seven Orthodox Churches. If not, they would've long been replaced by other forces who have mastered mysticism.
"If there isn't such a thing as true mysticism, then finding a fortune-teller or witchdoctor won't be of any help. It would be better to see if there's a solution to this problem with the help of a relatively higher-ranking bishop."
Aaron carefully analyzed the situation and finally nodded.
"That makes sense.
"Perhaps I will need the bishop's help to pass on the message to the Goddess to protect me."
No, accurately speaking, with the bishop passing on the message, the Nighthawks would be able to notice the abnormality on you… Klein retorted inwardly.
He had no intention of helping Aaron himself, because to solve the problem regarding luck, aside from finding the root cause of everything, he would have to set up particular rituals.
Ignoring the fact that Klein didn't know any real luck enhancement rituals, and even if he did, he would be exposing his Beyonder powers to someone he was unfamiliar with, which would increase the risk for no reason.
Since I can get the Nighthawks to take up the role of helping you, there's no need for me to do it myself… I just don't know if the problem came from that boy or the tarot cards in his hands. If it's the latter, then it might be a suitable Sealed Artifact for me…Klein shook his head, suppressing his greed and emotions.
At this moment, Aaron had already made up his mind. He looked at Klein and grinned.
"Thank you, Mr. Moriarty. Although you don't know mysticism, you relied on strict logic to provide the best suggestion."
Yes, I don't know mysticism… Klein smiled.
"Just call me Sherlock, Aaron."
Yes, ever since I've stopped being a Nighthawk, the composition of my mysticism knowledge has become stranger and stranger. On the one hand, I've grasped quite a few secrets which are related to High-Sequences and deities, and on the other hand, I only understand the more basic ritualistic magic. Among the more complicated ones, I only know the sacrificial rites and bestowment rituals. As for charms, all I know are those three… Klein sighed to himself, feeling an urgent need for a more comprehensive and in-depth book of mysticism.
As for the knowledge required to separate a Beyonder characteristic from the spiritual corruption of an evil god, he had no clues whatsoever at the moment.
…
After a short afternoon nap at the club, Klein rode in a public carriage to the Rice Circus near the Tussock River in Cherwood Borough.
Today wasn't a holiday nor was it a weekend. There weren't many visitors at the circus, and the clowns that were responsible for entertaining and amusing the visitors all seemed listless.
Passing between the Divination Lodge and the tents that sold pies, pancakes, fruit pies, and alcoholic beverages, Klein walked along the edge of the circus and found a small theater. On the blackboard at the entrance, it read: "Non-holiday and weekends: four performances a day, one hour per performance."
The first performance in the afternoon was at two o'clock. It had just begun.
After buying his ticket, Klein entered the theater and heard cheers.
At this moment, a beast trainer was on stage, holding a whip and ordering a black bear to perform in a charmingly naive manner. Next to him lay a tiger, with criss-crossed yellow-black stripes, and a seated dark and curly-haired baboon.
Pa!
The black bear rolled awkwardly as the trainer whipped it.
"I say, this guy wanted to give you a slap just a moment ago!" In the front row of the rows of seats, someone suddenly shouted loudly, which immediately attracted the laughter of a handful in the audience.
They thought it was a new way for the circus to amuse them.
However, Klein didn't think so, for he noticed that the color of the trainer's emotions leaned toward anger and annoyance.
He smiled and went to sit in the first row, watching the performance on the stage so as to not waste the price he paid for the tickets.
At that moment, the person who had just spoken shouted again, "That tiger wants to bite your neck off, that curly-haired baboon wants to use you as a cushion!"
Amidst the laughter of the audience, the beast trainer's actions clearly stiffened.
This… Even though those words sound like they're causing trouble, why do I detect a hint of a warning… Klein looked over his shoulder at the speaker in the same row and saw that he was a chubby-faced man in his thirties.
This tone, this way… It's kind of familiar… Klein mumbled silently to himself.
Chapter 327: Encounter on the Road
Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
Inside the small theater of the Rice Circus.
As long as something felt familiar, there was no problem for a Seer to recall it. Klein nudged his gold-rimmed glasses up on his nose, leaned back, and murmured something almost soundlessly.
Soon after, he pretended to close his eyes to rest for more than ten seconds. In reality, he had used the help of Cogitation to quickly fall asleep and be reminded through his dream.
It was a rather dim room, with only one candle flickering on the coffee table. The people sitting around it were all wearing black hooded robes and iron masks that covered only half their faces.
Deliberately massaging his glabella, Klein opened his eyes and continued watching the beast taming performance.
He had interpreted the revelation and knew the source of the familiarity: the scene in the dream was of the Beyonder gathering organized by Old Mister Eye of Wisdom.
There was also an Apothecary with a chubby face who enjoyed using sarcasm as a warning. Although he was clearly a kind-hearted fellow, he always gave others the feeling that he deserved a beating.
Could it be that Apothecary? That shouldn't be the case. When did he learn beast taming… According to the confidential records of the Nighthawks, an Apothecary doesn't have Spirit Vision like those of the Seer pathway who were able to distinguish emotional colors in detail. Well, when it comes to the color of auras, they're actually quite good at it… Klein's thoughts slowly dispersed without affecting his appreciation of the performance onstage.
In his Spirit Vision, the emotional colors of the black bear, the tiger, and the curly-haired baboon were indeed unstable. If there was an addition level of provocation to a certain degree, they might very well rampage on the spot. This indirectly confirmed that the chubby man who had just spoken wasn't causing trouble. He seemed to be able to read the thoughts of the three animals and understand their impulses.
Having received the warnings, the beast trainer's face darkened with anger, but even so, his actions were instinctively gentler. He was more careful, and the show ended without a hitch.
After that, there was a simple but comedic skit. Only when it was over was it the magician's turn to perform.
This magician wore a tuxedo. He wore a bow tie of the same color, as well as a large top hat. The moment he appeared, he spat out fire from his mouth, which immediately caused the audience to applaud and cheer.
Such a simple trick… Klein, who had excellent eyesight and had watched quite a few magic lesson programs, understood the gist of it with just a quick glance.
Next, the magician performed: the classic escape act, releasing flying doves from his hat, pulling out flowers, card tricks, and so on. Klein thought he could easily see through every one of the magician's tricks, but he was surprised to discover that, at some point, he actually failed to do so because his attention had been drawn to where the magician wished it to be, causing him to ignore the key details.
He clearly doesn't have any Beyonder powers, but his technique is still able to fool my eyes. Hmm, the key point is grasping attention… The Magician's second rule is fully divert a target's attention, thus achieving the desired effect? Klein made a guess in his mind which he wasn't sure if it was right or wrong.
It needed him to "act" it out to receive feedback.
At this moment, the magician's performance came to an end. The audience weren't stingy with their warm applause and cheers. The atmosphere in the theater reached its peak that afternoon.
Heh heh, the third rule. A Magician's performance requires the applause of the audience for his performance? Klein muttered to himself in a half-joking and half-guessing manner in silence.
Shortly after three o'clock, he pulled the collar of his black double-breasted frock coat and left the small theater. He didn't try to come into contact with the chubby man who was suspected to be the Apothecary and only secretly remembered his appearance—soliciting him suddenly might result in extreme reactions.
He took a tracked public carriage back to Minsk Street.
The carriage was divided into two floors and each of them had a few passengers. According to his usual practice, Klein chose the spot next to the window on the first floor.
The carriage proceeded and stopped from time to time. Klein, who had half-closed his eyes to recall the inspiration he had just had, suddenly felt his heart palpitate. He became sober and rational—the reaction was like someone had forcibly intruded into his dream or channeled his spirit.
At this moment, he clearly knew that he was no longer in the real world!
As someone rich with experience, he pretended to be unconcerned. He looked around and saw that the gentleman in a tuxedo and top hat to his left was still flipping through a newspaper. There were two children who were being reprimanded by a vexed woman in a light blue dress for being disobedient troublemakers. Beside her, people were chewing on bread or drinking tea that they had brought with them… Everything was the same as before.
However, when Klein quietly activated his Spirit Vision, these passengers didn't emit any of the corresponding auras or emotions!
They don't have Ether Bodies!
They're clearly talking, eating bread, and reading newspapers, but none of them have any signs of life!
Is this an illusion, or did they just suddenly die and are just moving according to the inertia of their lives? Klein tried to remain calm as he looked out the window and saw carriages and pedestrians passing by. It was still an afternoon scene.
However, they also have no aura colors… As the carriage moved forward rather slowly, Klein became more and more serious, not understanding what had just happened.
He lowered his head and examined himself. He saw a clear spirituality luster which was completely different from the people around him.
At that moment, he suddenly heard an angry roar. It didn't sound like it came from a human!
Klein looked up and saw a large black dog on the street.
Its sharp white teeth were stained with traces of blood and rust. It was the huge Devil dog that had committed heinous crimes!
The black dog quickly swelled into a tall devil. It had bat-like wings on its back and goat horns, filled with mysterious patterns, that grew from its head. It looked up at the sky and said in the devil language, "Corruption!"
Almost as soon as it opened its mouth, Klein confirmed that it was real, because it possessed aura and emotion colors while strong spirituality lusters were being emitted from it!
Following the howls of the huge Devil dog, a few illusory pedestrians exploded and turned into a black mist that filled the air, blocking his line of sight.
However, Klein could vaguely see that there were quite a few "real people" with aura colors in midair and around him. They were using Beyonder powers which emitted spirituality lusters.
What's going on? Ordinary people are illusory, but the Beyonders are real… Have the Nighthawks and Mandated Punishers found the Devil dog and used a Sealed Artifact to create a battle environment which wouldn't disturb reality? That Sealed Artifact is only aimed at Beyonders, and it has no effect on normal people? Thus, I, who just happened to pass by, was pulled in out of bad luck? Klein's mind raced as he roughly guessed what had happened to him.
What a ridiculous disaster… Just as he was sighing with emotion, he suddenly heard a blood-curdling shriek, a blood-curdling scream, and a loud scream.
The black gas that screened his vision suddenly dispersed, and the gigantic Devil dog fell heavily onto the ground. Its body was divided into two halves, and all the light in the air converged on something, making it look like a clean, pure moon shining down on the dark environment.
The gigantic Devil dog tenaciously roared again, and its body suddenly exploded. Using its soul and flesh as fuel, it ignited blue and red flames that soared into the sky.
However, the flames lost all of their brightness as soon as they reached midair, having been absorbed by that bright and resplendent moon-like object.
It disappeared without a trace, and that huge Devil dog died so simply and completely, not even leaving a speck of it behind.
So powerful… As Klein was sighing, he suddenly thought of something. Would those official Beyonders discover that he—another wild Beyonder—was sitting in the carriage, different from the other illusory people in the surrounding area?
His heart tightened as his scalp went numb. He pulled out a paper figurine, and with a shake, he transformed it into himself, a copy that was without any aura or emotional colors.
As for him, with the help of the substitution spell, he hid in the paper figurine's "shadow."
At this moment, Klein heard a light snort from across the street.
The snort was clearly filled with anger and indignation.
Who is it? It doesn't seem like the sound an official Beyonder will make… Klein was puzzled, but he didn't dare to dispel his double and peek his head out to look.
Following which, a few pairs of eyes swept across the crowd, not stopping for even a moment.
When all this faded away, Klein saw that the void around him had cracked and shattered like glass.
Then the feeling of reality inundated him, and he knew he was back in the real world.
After removing the double, he sat back in his seat. The passengers in the carriage were doing their respective deeds—reading newspapers, chewing bread, and scolding children. It was no different from before.
But in Klein's vision, they had regained their aura and their emotional colors.
In addition, compared to earlier, the tracked carriage had clearly moved forward by quite a distance.
It seems like in that special battle environment earlier, time and space are synchronized with reality. If that battle had continued for a long time, then the carriage would've left the area of influence, leaving me alone there. Alone there… That would be an obvious exposure… Fortunately, Backlund is the Capital of Capitals and the Land of Hope. There are High-Sequence Beyonders from the three major Churches residing here… Klein thought with a lingering sense of fear.
He had originally thought that even if they had locked onto their target, it would still take the Nighthawks, Mandated Punishers, and others several days to find the black Devil dog. Moreover, that was on the premise that the dog hadn't left Backlund. That was something certain, because leaving Backlund would mean stepping out of the range of the ritual, and the advancement would fail. And to the Devil, the negative impact of a failed ritual would cause it, who was already struggling at the edge of bloodlust, to immediately lose control.
Who would've thought that just after one night and half a day, the gigantic Devil dog would be discovered, executed, and cleansed!
Terrifying! This is Backlund… This is the true power of the three Churches! A Sequence 6 Beyonder who's just about to advance was merely exposed and had left behind the tiniest of traces. Yet, he was quickly found and killed so easily… This is a Devil that can sense danger ahead of time! From the looks of it, some Sealed Artifact perfectly hinders this trait… In the future, I must be even more careful! Klein felt that he had learned a great lesson.
At this moment, he remembered the strange snort he had heard earlier.
It seemed to be the companion of that gigantic Devil dog? Its master? He was actually not discovered. Perhaps the final explosion of the gigantic Devil dog was secretly orchestrated by him… Of course, it's also possible that he's a member of some secret organization that is unsatisfied with the official Beyonders… Klein abruptly looked out the window on the opposite side of the carriage. All he saw were people walking past looking ordinary. They either wore tweed coats, half top hats, or bright long skirts. He couldn't tell if there was anything wrong with them.
Chapter 328: He That Touches Pitch Shall Be Defiled
Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
The wheels of the carriage pressed down on the track as the horses dragged it along. The heavy carriage steadily advanced, and soon, they were moving away from the street as though nothing had happened.
With a normal expression, Klein held onto his cane and waited until the tracked public carriage passed two stations before he got off ahead of time. He took a large detour and slowly headed back to the place where the gigantic Devil dog had been killed.
He wasn't looking for its Beyonder characteristics, as it was impossible for the top experts of the Church to not know about this matter. They would've definitely taken it away long ago. He also wasn't investigating the source of that slight snort. After all, with so much time having passed by, the carriages moving on the streets, and the people that were coming and going, how could there be any clues left behind? Even divination would fail to obtain an answer.
Klein's purpose was to look at the subtle details that remained along the street, and to see the nature of the Sealed Artifact that had created the strange environment for the battle, so as to prepare for what might happen in the future.
This is a Magician's acting… He sighed silently as he walked under the gray sky, along the edge of the street which was marked by the gas lamps.
The reason why he had to wait two stops before getting off and taking a detour, was because he was worried that there would be an official Beyonder who would sweep the battlefield in secret. He didn't want to meet them, so he tried his best not to.
Klein, who was dressed decently and holding onto a cane, took some time before he returned to the huge Devil dog's place of death. However, there were no traces of its presence on the street, and the passersby clearly didn't know that a fierce Beyonder battle had taken place here.
That Sealed Artifact is really magical. It's even more powerful than large-scale hypnosis. Klein activated his Spirit Vision and slowed his footsteps, like a gentleman on an outing rather than on an errand.
It took him over half an hour to complete his tour of the area, but his efforts with his Spirit Vision was futile. There was nothing out of the ordinary about his target area.
However, Klein's spiritual perception sensed one thing: its scope and its boundaries.
When I entered the block and left from another direction, I felt a subtle and illusory feeling, as if I entered a different world from another world. That is to say, the Sealed Artifact's scope of influence can reach at least one block, and its upper limit is temporarily unclear. Klein stood outside the target street, and nodded thoughtfully before returning. He went to a decent cafe, ordered a cup of Southville coffee, and sat down by the window.
As he drank the fluid with a rich aroma, he observed the street outside, which was beginning to bustle as time passed by, hoping to see any changes.
Unfortunately, what he had been looking forward to didn't happen.
Of course, he wasn't without gains. At the very least, he confirmed that a Magician "never performed unprepared," which was one of the rules of acting.
He felt that the characteristics of the subtle precipitate in his body stirred a little.
In the evening, Klein stopped his observations and returned to Minsk Street in a public carriage.
At this moment, the gas lamps on both sides of the road had already been lit, illuminating the slightly wet cement ground with withered leaves that fell from the trees along the road with a blue hue.
Holding his cane, Klein strolled past the house of Lawyer Jurgen and strolled to Unit 15.
As he was walking, he suddenly thought of something. He had finished all the ingredients at home. If he went back now, he wouldn't be able to cook dinner!
Uh, should I go to the meat shop and fruit shop, or find a restaurant to fill my stomach first? Klein hesitated for a moment, he then finally decided to take a break tonight and eat something ready-made.
Many of the dishes in this world were made quite simply and very quickly, so it didn't become a situation where an hour was spent cooking for five minutes of eating. However, there was still a certain amount of work to be done. Furthermore, he had to wash the dishes and wash the knives and forks himself.
After touching his wallet, Klein turned around and walked in the direction of the area, where according to his memory, there were restaurants.
Once again he passed the house of Lawyer Jurgen's.
Standing behind the open oriel window and looking at the "confused" expression Detective Moriarty had, Jurgen raised his voice and said, "Mr. Moriarty, did… I mean, did you forget your key again? Or did you drop your key?"
Why is he saying "again?" Klein replied with a chuckle, "No, not really."
Jurgen solemnly nodded his head.
"Then why don't you come to my place?
"You can return when it's completely dark after we have dinner."
… Klein hesitated for a second and smiled.
"It will be my honor."
When he entered, the black cat, Brody, was licking his paws in a corner. Jurgen didn't make much small talk as he stepped into the kitchen.
After Klein had hung up his coat and hat and put away his black cane, he stepped into the dining room and saw that the table was already covered with food—blackened steaks and mashed potatoes of the same color.
He wasn't surprised by this. This was how Mrs. Doris, Lawyer Jurgen's grandmother, cooked in her old age. The food didn't look appetizing, but they were delicious.
She's a good chef… Klein sat in front of Jurgen, smiled and made some small talk.
"Were you about to have dinner?"
"Yes, it's a habit of mine to look at the scenery outside before my meal. It allows my thoughts to spread without boundaries." Jurgen spread out his napkin and picked up his fork and knife.
Klein looked around in puzzlement and asked, "Where's Mrs. Doris?"
Jurgen sighed and replied seriously, "The weather is getting colder and colder. Her chronic lung problems are back, so she has no choice but to be admitted to the hospital for a while."
"May God bless her." Klein drew the triangular Sacred Emblem of the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery on his chest unfamiliarly.
Then he cut a piece of steak and forked it before stuffing it into his mouth.
At that moment, he suddenly thought of a problem and hurriedly asked, "So, you were the one who prepared dinner?"
"Of course. It was done a few minutes ago," Jurgen answered simply.
If it isn't the work of the great chef, Mrs. Doris, then this food… The corner of Klein's mouth twitched. He held back the fear in his heart and still bit down on the small piece of steak on his silver fork, slowly chewing on it.
His brows furrowed a little as he forcefully swallowed the food. He squeezed a smile as he asked, "Why did you prepare two servings in advance?"
"One serving was prepared to be taken to the hospital for my grandmother." Jurgen glanced up at Klein. "I'll make another one later."
"… So that's how it is." To be polite, Klein secretly took a deep breath and steeled himself as though prepared to do battle with the food in front of him and finish it.
By the time he was finished, Jurgen still had a tiny bit left. The senior solicitor put down his fork and knife, picked up the glass beside him, took a sip of red wine, and asked without expression, "How's it?
"Which dish do you like the most?
"I know there's still a large gap between my skills and my grandmother's, but it shouldn't be too exaggerated."
Mr. Lawyer, I suspect you have problems with your sense of taste besides facial myopathy… Can't you realize your standards? Klein smiled, moved his head from left to right, and said, "The white bread isn't bad."
"That was bought from Dodge bakery." Jurgen reburied his head and finished the rest of the food.
After drinking the remaining wine, he thought for a moment and said, "Detective Moriarty, I want to entrust you with a simple task."
"What is it?" Klein kept drinking water.
The mashed potatoes were too salty!
"My grandma's been in the hospital lately. I might not be able to return because of my cases. This will lead to Brody being hungry." Jurgen glanced at the black cat. "I want you to feed Brody when I'm not back, clean up his litter box, and play with him for a while. He loves to be scratched under the chin. Yes, every night at ten, if there's no light in the house and it's dark, you can come in, Two soli every time, until my grandmother comes home."
Klein saw the solemn and prim look on Jurgen's face. He smiled and said, "It's a simple task. The reward is quite generous. I have no reason to reject it."
As he spoke, he turned to look at Brody the black cat and smiled at it.
Brody slowly turned his body and faced Klein with his back.
Klein's smile couldn't help but freeze on his face.
…
After drinking his fill, Klein excused himself from Jurgen's place. He strolled back to his rented house in the completely dark streets.
By this time, the people who had finished their work had already returned home and were enjoying their dinner. There were very few pedestrians on the streets and not many carriages. It was very quiet.
Walking under the light of the gas lamp, Klein, who had no urgent desire to return, slowed down. So did the black shadow at his feet.
When he passed by the Sammers, he saw through the oriel window that the interior was brightly lit. People were moving back and forth, and sounds of chatter and laughing could be heard.
As for next door, 15 Minsk Street, it was dark and silent.
With a sigh, Klein quickened his pace, took out his key, and opened the door.
Before he went in, he checked the mailbox out of habit and found another letter lying inside.
Who sent it? Klein took out the letter and glanced at it under the light of the street lamp.
No stamps… It looks like Isengard Stanton's handwriting… He nodded slightly, went inside, closed the door, switched on the light, and opened the letter.
The great detective Isengard said in the letter:
"… I'm very pleased to inform you that the murderer has been found and killed on the spot.
"The police think that our work is worth at least half the bounty. They should be disbursing it to me this week. When that happens, I will invite you and our other friends to come over and share this bounty."
…
Isengard received the news so quickly? He sure has a close relationship with the Backlund police… Oh, it's without a stamp. That means that he got someone to deliver it directly. The Loen Kingdom's postal system isn't that efficient. How could a letter sent in the afternoon arrive in the evening? Klein sighed, put down the letter, and got ready to change into a new outfit before heading out.
With the serial murders out of the way and the situation in Backlund easing, he could try to do a couple things.
For example, find Kaspars at the Bravehearts Bar and contact Maric to see if the Beyonder who could control zombies and Miss Sharron had any books regarding mysticism.
If my guess is right, they should be the defectors of the Rose School of Thought. They were previously in an official organization, and they must know a lot of mysticism knowledge. And now, I have enough money to buy them! Klein touched his wallet and thought in anticipation.