Just as Old Neil finished speaking, the spectral eyes in the shadows behind him vanished abruptly, leaving no trace, even for Klein, who was still in his "Spirit Vision" state.
"This is a manifestation of ritual magic," Old Neil explained with a chuckle.
It's pretty magical… So Spirit Vision is like a stronger version of seeing spirits? Klein, as if he'd just received a new toy, eagerly looked around the room, examining every corner of the alchemy lab to see if there were any differences from before.
In the dim light, he could make out the contours of objects—the long table, test tubes, scales, cups, and cabinets all looked the same as they had before he activated Spirit Vision, with no hint of aura or glow.
Lifeless objects lack spirituality? Klein mused, glancing at the small silver box on the table.
Suddenly, he noticed faint gleams inside, some as blue as the sky, others bright like starlight, and some red as if ablaze!
"Materials from extraordinary creatures retain a kind of life, or… vitality? Even when the original owner has died?" Klein pondered his wording, brimming with curiosity as he consulted Old Neil.
"The precise way to put it is that their spirituality lingers. This is a crucial part of successful potion crafting and, likewise, one of the reasons for extraordinary beings losing control. Dunn should have mentioned this to you," Old Neil replied matter-of-factly.
He suddenly chuckled, as if reminded of something amusing. "I recall that the recipe for a 'Corpse Collector' potion includes dried adult black-spotted frogs. It takes considerable courage to drink that one."
Klein imagined it briefly, feeling a bit nauseated, and chose not to engage further. Instead, he looked around at the dim room, half-hoping to spot a nearly invisible spirit or ghost lingering nearby.
"Aren't spirits supposed to be everywhere?" he asked, puzzled.
Old Neil let out a snort. "Repeat after me, kiddo:"
"This is the Night Watchers' headquarters. This is the underground stronghold of the Church of the Goddess of the Night. There are quite a few extraordinary beings here!"
"Do you think we'd let spirits and souls roam freely? Besides, the spirit world and spirits are two separate concepts."
Klein felt a bit embarrassed, turning his head to feign interest in the faint glow of the gas lamp by the darkroom entrance. "Got it."
As he spoke, he felt an odd, uncontrollable twitch at the center of his brow, almost like a spasm.
What's going on? Just as Klein was about to turn and ask, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye—a nearly transparent figure standing silently at the far end of the darkroom, near the edge of the yellowish light. It was humanoid in shape, its aura blending seamlessly with the shadows, making it difficult to discern.
Hiss!
Klein felt a sudden sharp pain at the center of his brow, causing his vision to blur. He tried to focus again, but the "invisible" figure was nowhere to be seen!
Weird… Turning around, he said, "Mr. Neil, my brow is twitching and aching a bit."
"Haha, that's completely normal. You're a freshly promoted extraordinary, so Spirit Vision places a significant burden on your 'spirit body,' continuously draining it. This manifests outwardly as brow twitching, sharp headaches, heightened sensitivity, minor hallucinations, and so on. Also, while in Spirit Vision, you're more prone to discomfort in unfamiliar environments and can easily be influenced by others' emotions. These are issues to keep in mind; it takes repeated practice to adapt and mitigate them. Also, use it sparingly and end it promptly," Old Neil explained with a smile.
Why do I get the feeling you're rather amused by this…? Klein quickly asked, "Then how do I exit Spirit Vision?"
He thought of mentioning the "invisible" figure he'd just seen, but after hearing that "minor hallucinations" were one of the symptoms, he dismissed the idea. With the brow twitching and pain, Old Neil's answer seemed sufficient to explain it.
"Just like before, visualize an object, focus your attention, then shift into a meditative state. Close your eyes, control your spirituality, and repeatedly tell it to stop. Then, when you open your eyes, you'll find that Spirit Vision has ended."
Old Neil described it leisurely, only adding at the end, "Of course, that's the most tedious and clumsy method. With practice, you can suggest and imprint a simple 'switch action' during meditation. For instance, I tap my brow twice to activate Spirit Vision and tap it twice again to end it. How you set it up depends on your preferences and habits."
"Got it." Klein considered it and decided to follow Old Neil's example, using a double tap on his brow as the "switch" for Spirit Vision.
A single tap could be confused with an instinctive head tap, while three taps might waste precious time in a crisis. Actions like snapping fingers were too distinctive and would draw attention.
He focused, visualizing a cluster of glowing spheres and re-entered the meditative state.
Under Old Neil's guidance, he went through repeated suggestions and practice, finally establishing his "switch action."
Lightly forming a fist, Klein tapped his brow twice with the knuckle of his index finger. Instantly, his vision filled with a spectrum of auras, varying in thickness and color.
Klein tapped his brow twice again, and everything returned to normal, with no trace of any supernatural vision.
"Finally got the hang of it…" he sighed with relief and satisfaction.
It was only then that he realized how exhausted he felt, as if he could fall asleep at any moment. His head felt like it had endured three sleepless nights, foggy and aching.
Old Neil chuckled and said, "We're not Sleepless. After excessive practice or overuse of Spirit Vision, we all need a period of sleep to recover. You can go home now, rest well, and this afternoon, take a stroll from Welch's residence to Iron Cross Street. Try to uncover any leads on the Antigonus family's notebook. Tomorrow, we'll continue with the teachings on mysticism, and, of course, don't neglect those historical records."
"Understood." Klein wholeheartedly agreed with Old Neil's arrangements.
He grabbed his cane and left the alchemy room. After watching the hidden door close, he saw Old Neil head back toward the armory. Klein rubbed his brow and temples, then gripped the railing as he ascended the stairs one step at a time.
Just then, Dunn Smith approached from behind, with a slight smile and a deep, contemplative look in his eyes. "Old Neil said you're adapting well, both with meditation and Spirit Vision."
"Maybe it's just a Seer's unique trait," Klein replied modestly, guessing that Dunn had been watching the armory for Old Neil.
Dunn slowed his pace, just a step ahead of Klein. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke without turning around, "Remember, curiosity killed the cat. It can kill an extraordinary as well. Don't try to explore whispers you shouldn't hear or things you shouldn't see."
"Understood." Klein recognized this as another reminder about the dangers of losing control.
Entering the Blackthorn Security Company, he greeted Rosanne, who was still unaware of her colleague's newfound extraordinariness, and then strolled out onto the street, taking a public horse-drawn carriage back to Narcissus Street, nearly dozing off along the way.
It was still morning, with temperatures hovering around twenty-six or twenty-seven degrees. Klein took the brass key from his belt and unlocked his front door.
Inside, much of the furniture was yet to be arranged; the living room and dining area remained mostly empty. Benson was at work, and Melissa was at school, both having left early.
Not bothering with anything else, Klein shut the door behind him, hurried up the stairs, and entered his bedroom with a bookshelf. After removing his tailcoat and hanging it on the coat rack, he threw himself onto the bed. The moment his head hit the pillow, he was fast asleep.
Klein was awakened by the bright sunlight. He turned his head, opening his eyes slowly to find the sun shining brightly outside.
"What time is it? I hope I haven't missed the afternoon Tarot Gathering," he murmured, dragging himself out of bed and heading for the coat rack, remembering that his pocket watch was still in the inner pocket of his tailcoat.
He realized he'd forgotten to close his bedroom door and draw the curtains on his bay window.
Click!
Klein pulled out the pocket watch, pressed it open, and was instantly relieved.
It was just past noon, leaving plenty of time before the scheduled gathering at 3 p.m.
Today was Monday—the day for his gathering with The Hanged Man and Justice.
Deep in thought, Klein tapped his brow twice, and his vision shifted again, revealing that his aura had returned to a bright, healthy glow.
After tapping twice more to exit Spirit Vision, he made his way downstairs, boiled some water, added a pinch of low-grade tea leaves, and with a dab of cream, enjoyed a slice of rye bread.
Afterward, Klein took out his history textbook and the original owner's notes, leisurely revisiting and consolidating his knowledge.
…
At 2:57 p.m., Klein closed his book, capped his pen, and swiftly drew the curtains.
Then he locked his bedroom door, plunging the room into near darkness.
He tapped his brow twice, activating Spirit Vision, and scanned his surroundings.
After confirming there were no invisible spirits present, Klein ended Spirit Vision, took out his pocket watch, and checked the time.
Tick-tock, tick-tock.
At one minute to three, he took a deep breath, stepping counterclockwise four steps in a square formation, just as before, silently reciting the incantation in Chinese with each step.
However, this time, he hadn't prepared any main course offering.
Klein closed his eyes, feeling an itch on the back of his hand, as if the four black dots forming a small square there were becoming more pronounced, surfacing.
The familiar mad whispers and seductive murmurs began echoing around him, but this time, Klein noticed the headache wasn't as severe.
It wasn't that he was unaffected—rather, he could better control himself, resisting the urge to listen actively.
As an extraordinary now, he felt a slightly stronger sense of self-control in such an environment.
Soon, his "body" felt lighter, rising upwards, where he saw the boundless, grayish-white mist stretching endlessly, with deep red "stars" scattered within it, two of which felt subtly connected to him, stirring an uncanny sense of familiarity.
Klein glanced at his hazy form, murmuring with curiosity, "The astral body Old Neil mentioned?"
He paused, calming himself, then once more manifested the grand temple above the gray fog, the majestic bronze table under the vast dome, and the twenty-two high-backed chairs marked with various zodiac symbols.
Klein quietly took his seat at the head of the table, allowing his body and face to be enveloped in an even denser mist. Extending his right hand, he pointed at the two familiar deep red stars, establishing a mysterious connection.