Returning to the room he had rented in the Elysian district and after changing into more colorful clothes, he took a rented carriage that dropped him a few streets away from home.
He completed the short journey on foot.
Entering his unit and locking the door, Klein stood with his hand on the key for a few seconds.
Exhaling an exaggeratedly long sigh, the clown staggered back and ran a hand across his face.
'Luckily my theory was correct... Chariot is the kind of person who, while he enjoys teasing people, enjoys being teased back even more!
'It's like those friends you pass in the street, and out of the blue, they punch you on the arm; instead of getting angry and causing friction, you have to hit back with twice the force.
'That's their way of showing affection!' Klein felt he had been able to see a part of the real Chariot.
After summoning up a little courage, he approached the turbulent river that was the man and put his feet in the water. He realized that instead of being inhumanly cold, it was quite warm.
But he also felt that he still had a lot to see. Although he had barely touched the edge of the river, he still had to explore its dark and turbulent depths.
This conclusion was not arrived through spirituality and his experience in this new world.
No. If it were so, he would have thought Chariot was a bully who liked to crush people to feel superior.
This conclusion came from his most valuable place, his soul, his home.
He felt how it resonated with the man's actions, a bell looking for its other half to jingle alongside it.
Sighing again, Klein sat up straight. Discovering how to truly deal with Chariot had given him a new insight into how passive he had been.
'How can I look a fellow transmigrator in the eye if I keep letting myself be trampled on? I have to have my own spines too!'
The road home will be full of disasters and dangers. If Chariot's mere games almost made him lose his mind, how was he supposed to face all those challenges?
'Maybe that's what he wanted to achieve? That I'd show more courage and stop shrinking just because I was up against someone stronger?' Frowning, Klein didn't know what to think.
While he could already understand the man's communication style, that didn't mean he understood what was going on in his head.
Knowing that he was wasting his time now, Klein put those thoughts aside and went to the bathroom.
From what he had seen, Chariot had managed to obtain the weapon that Sun had requested, so it was very likely that he would soon receive the order to deliver it.
Therefore, his promotion would have to wait a little longer.
Almost an hour later, some familiar murmurs reached his ears and Klein quickly climbed into the mysterious space.
The solitary stained crimson flame pulsed and he extended his spirituality to it. Without raising his head, he heard what he had expected.
"Mr. Fool, I have the commission for Little Sun ready. I need your confirmation to send it."
Klein made a small edit, eliminating the demonic figure and replacing it with a kneeling red-haired man. Then, Klein sent the edited video to the crimson star representing Mr. Sun.
...
Inside the City of Silver. Derrick Berg's House.
On hearing and seeing the information provided by Mr. Fool, Derrick was ecstatic, immediately controlling his state and quickly sending a reply.
There were still a few days left before his expedition, and he wanted to use that time to practice with Mr. Chariot's weapon, so he didn't leave the house much.
Preparing the altar according to the specifications given by the Fool and praying, the young man watched in amazement as an illusory door of light formed on the altar.
Inside the door of light, a world of gray fog stretched out to infinity. At the top of the world were several colored lights, and above them, a grandiose palace rose.
At the head of the table, seated in the chair of honor, the mysterious figure of the Fool looked down calmly.
Unconsciously, Derrick bowed his head in respect to the God and closed his eyes.
When he opened his eyes again, the door was gone.
Excited, the young man looked down and saw where his weapon would be.
On top of the reception altar was a metal staff.
Longer than his arm and a little thicker than his broomstick.
"This is..." His mouth opened and closed in disbelief.
Was this the weapon with the destructive power he had asked for?
In the midst of his confusion, he noticed a folded letter next to the staff.
Taking it, Derrick couldn't help but praise the neatness and beauty of the handwriting.
<>
Hello Little Sun, I hope you like my gift.
Don't let its appearance fool you. That simple staff there is quite special.
It has two powers in total.
First, it will increase your physical attributes beyond any sequence 7 once it is active.
The second is that you will become a master of weapons, specifically five. It would be as if you had trained with them all your life.
It only has one negative side, although considering where you are, it shouldn't be a big problem...
Of course, unless you are antisocial. But considering how cute you are, I doubt that is the case.
This staff loves combat. It will become anxious if it doesn't participate in combat or high-intensity training.
If it doesn't fight or train for three days, the person carrying the artifact will experience a deep depression.
Enjoy it🌞
Love, The Chariot.
P.S. To activate it you have to turn the handle.
Have fun~
<>
Looking at the little drawing of a smiling yellow face, Derrick could feel his cheeks grow a little warm with embarrassment.
He was an only child; his parents had no other children, and their own families had died long ago. So he was alone.
Now alone in a big house, he often wondered what it would have been like if there had been someone else who shared his blood.
How Chariot treated him reminded him a lot of how he saw some siblings interact.
'Is this what it feels like to have an older brother?
'Is a nice feeling...'
After looking at the metal tube on the altar and rereading the last part of the letter, Derrick reached down and curiously picked up the staff.
He noticed how it was heavier than it looked.
With a twist of his hands, a loud click! was heard.
Immediately, the handle lengthened and expanded. And in an instant, Derrick now held a sword over a meter long in his hands.
'A transformable weapon?!' Excited, the young boy turned the handle of the sword again until another click sounded.
"Ah!" Pum!
The increased weight of the sword almost made it fall from his hands, and Derrick watched open-mouthed as the sword became a broadsword.
Although the weight seemed too much a moment ago, now he could barely feel it.
He made an experimental swing, and the power he felt from the attack made his heart pound.
With his eyes shining like little suns, he turned the handle again. Anxious to test what other weapons it could be transformed into.
Click! Click! Click!
...
Lenburg, Azshara. Astope Quarter.
Adryan had already announced some time ago in his company that there would be no work today because 'their great effort deserved a rest'.
Nobody would question the opportunity of a long weekend, let alone ask the boss in depth why.
Flora simply returned to her room while he prepared a good lunch. It was 3 pm, and they still hadn't eaten anything, so the man made sure to put extra meat on the table.
After that, and discussing that they would go out again at 6 pm for a performance at the theater, Adryan went to his room, and after notifying the Fool, he sacrificed the weapon he had obtained from the gathering.
With all that done, the dark-haired man finally felt he could go to his corner to think.
So, lying down on his bed to take a nap, Adryan closed his eyes and began to draw the sphere of light...
Outside the City of Calamities.
Sitting on his white beach chair, the redhead had his cheek resting on his right knuckles while his left hand was tapping the Card of Blasphemy on his lap.
The events of the mirror divination repeated themselves several times in his mind.
"Apparently. Part of my theory is correct... Some points and facts cannot be changed no matter what..."
He believed he could change history by attempting to save the Nighthawks from the script the Useless Writer had thrust upon them.
But no matter what, the Captain died along with Klein.
Although the latter had said nothing about anyone else dying, Adryan would assume that they were alive.
The reason why they lived while Captain Dunn Smith and Klein Moretti didn't was not simple. Adryan wasn't even sure why, but he had a theory.
In this world, there are Unchangeable Points.
Marvel's What If explained it decently, so he felt it was a good example.
There are some facts that no matter how hard you try, you can never change them. They are events already defined by destiny.
While some would think it was stupid and that destiny was not written, Adryan had only one thing to say to them.
The existence of his world. That of his life as Joa Nahuel.
In a way, the destiny of this world had already been written. And Joa had read it all, the beginning and the end.
It was this knowledge that kept him alive now in his new life as Adryan, as well as dooming him.
He was a dead man walking, his heart and being only continuing to exist thanks to Hunters Hallow, which held his fragmented and ruined soul together as well as hiding it from the world.
'That Emlyn White is part of the Tarot Club has already been written, and that will not change; this is what fate dictates...' After a few seconds, Adryan spat to one side.
"How fucking disgusting..."
Of course, this was only for the original story's 'most important' points.
The story of the book no longer existed. All that remained were dying fragments that resonated in the river of destiny.
Although disgusted by the thought of predestined destiny, Adryan wondered if the book's disappearance was a good thing.
The existence of The Moonless Night was a horrible omen for what might come.
"Hehe..." Laughing pathetically, she looked up and watched the city in the smoke in the distance.
"This is the burden I must bear, isn't it?" Shaking his head, the subject was abandoned.
Thinking and talking about the 'book' was immensely dangerous. So much so that Adryan had 'locked away' the author's name deep in his brain.
Like a true Conspirator, his enhanced thinking allowed him to put specific data deep in his brain.
Of course, this wasn't hypnosis, so he couldn't forget it. All he could do to keep that information out of his mind constantly was do it consciously.
It was somewhat exhausting but nothing he couldn't handle. He was used to it.
That aside...
The information that Emlyn White was in Azshara had him quite unsettled, but it wasn't very surprising.
Adryan could even see an opportunity in this.
An opportunity to obtain information!
'The Sanguine are one of the oldest races on the planet. They are similar to the almost completely extinct Phoenix, but unlike them, this race still has a large number of members.
'From what I know, the Sanguine have members who have lived since the Second Epoch!' The redhead's eyes sparkled.
If there was anyone who could tell him about the Angel of Silver, it was them!
Of course, aside from the Gods themselves... But is not like he can ask them!
'But the problem would be getting a meeting with those old sanguines...'
Being such long-standing members, their condition was not the best.
To continue living, they had to sleep in coffins and should only be awakened for critical events or some divine revelation.
In addition to that, these members were of a very high rank in the Sanguine.
Obtaining a meeting with such an ancient being to obtain information would not be easy.
Patting the Card of Blasphemy on his lap a few times, Adryan raised his head and, opening his right hand saw the vial with the blackish-green paste.
Grinning sharply, he shook the vial.
"Lucky for me, I have the savior of the Sanguine to help me. Isn't that right, Mr. Moon?"
No doubt about it, there was no rest for the wicked.
He then looked past the paste at the general area where he kept his ingredients for the Reaper potion.
Now, the only thing he was missing was the ritual.
'Plan and execute a successful capture of a target with a Sequence higher than your own. Flaunt the completed conspiracy before them and consume the potion as they witness your victory, filled with fear and despair...' Repeating the ritual for his promotion, the redhead could feel the corners of his lips rise slightly.
One objective came to mind almost instantly.
'With the opportunity for promotion added to eliminating my biggest competitor. It would be stupid not to want to use it for my ritual~'
Adryan was considering hunting the traitorous Archbishop Ince Zangwill.
'Although he is Klein's prey, he also has my 'prey', so I also have the right to hunt him...'
After a moment's consideration, the redhead could only sigh and shake his head.
No matter how tempting it was, that prey belonged to the detective.
'But whoever your ally is, she is not~' Laughing softly, the redhead winked a mischievous eye.
It was impossible that the Useless Writer was acting alone. Adryan not only believed this but was almost certain of who it was.
The Demoness Sect.
'Ademisaul said he saw witches who were going to kill him, so he went to find me to protect him. If that isn't a revelation, nothing is.'
He would confirm this tomorrow when he gave the potion to the boy but it would only be a confirmation, it wouldn't change his plans.
On October 14th, he planned to use one of Azshara's most important celebrations to expose the useless writer and the witches who might be in Lenburg.
The Day of Knowledge. The day that was thought to be the birthday of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom.
What he wanted the least of all was to alert 0-08 that he was on them, so he would use the excuse of participating that day to report to the Holy Temple of Knowledge.
Harvey Wayne's actions would not look strange; he would be another believer who went to pray.
A reasonable development, one may say.
Although Adryan was sure Hunter's Hallow was hiding him from 0-08, but acting directly against the pen would undoubtedly alert it.
Every measure to avoid detection had to be used; halves could do nothing.