After half an hour of rest, Zhou Mingrui, who now considered himself Klein, had finally recovered. During that time, he noticed four black dots had appeared on the back of his right hand, arranged in a small square formation.
The four black spots gradually faded from dark to light and soon disappeared, but Klein was certain they were still hidden inside his body, waiting to be awakened.
"Four dots, a square—could this correspond to the four corners of the main food items? Does this mean I no longer need to prepare the main food and can directly proceed with steps and incantations?" Klein began to form a tentative theory.
It seemed plausible, but the strange, inexplicable nature of what had appeared on his body unsettled him. The unknown always invoked fear.
Then, recalling the inexplicable geometric practices on Earth, which seemed to have an effect here, as well as the strange dream where he crossed over, the mysterious and surreal gray fog world, and the disturbing whispers surrounding the "ritual" that drove people to madness—Klein couldn't help but shudder. Despite the summer heat, a chill ran down his spine.
He remembered a phrase he had heard: "The oldest and strongest human emotion is fear, and the oldest and strongest fear is fear of the unknown." Now, Klein deeply understood this fear born from the unknown.
For the first time, he was overwhelmed by an uncontrollable urge to delve into the mysterious realms, to understand more, to dispel the unknown. At the same time, he was equally tempted to bury his head and pretend nothing had happened, to escape it all.
Outside, the sunlight blazed, casting a "golden dust" across the desk. Klein gazed at it, feeling a trace of warmth and hope.
He relaxed slightly, but the overwhelming fatigue hit him like a tidal wave.
The sleepless night, the recent exertion—his eyelids grew heavy, like they were made of lead, and began to droop uncontrollably.
Shaking his head, Klein reached out to steady himself against the edge of the desk. He couldn't be bothered to clean up the black rye bread he had left on the corners, and staggered to the high-low bed. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell into a deep sleep.
Gurgle! Gurgle!
Hunger awakened Klein. He opened his eyes, feeling refreshed.
"Aside from a slight headache," he rubbed his forehead, sat up, and immediately felt like he could devour a whole cow.
He adjusted the wrinkles in his clothes, walked back to the desk, and picked up the silver-white pocket watch adorned with vine patterns.
Click!
The cover snapped open, and the second hand ticked steadily.
"12:30, three hours of sleep..." Klein swallowed, placing the watch back into his linen shirt pocket.
On the North Continent, the day was also divided into twenty-four hours, each hour with sixty minutes, and each minute with sixty seconds. As for whether each second was the same length as on Earth, Klein couldn't say.
At this moment, thoughts of mysticism, rituals, and the gray fog world couldn't even enter his mind. The most important thing now was food. Food!
He needed to eat first before he could think about anything else.
Without hesitation, Klein grabbed the four corners of the black rye bread he had left earlier. He shook off a little dust from it, planning to eat one as his lunch.
Due to a local custom of offering food after sacrifices, and the fact that these four rye loaves hadn't changed in any way, Klein, with only five pennies left in his pocket, thought it was best to be frugal.
Of course, this had something to do with the subtle influence of the original owner's memories and habits.
Since the gas was expensive, even for lighting, he moved the stove out, added some coal, and began pacing back and forth, waiting for the water to boil.
That rye bread was hard to eat dry!
"Sigh, does this mean I'll have black bread for breakfast, black bread for lunch, and only meat for dinner? No, unless Melissa thinks about my upcoming interview... I'll only get meat twice a week…" Klein glanced around aimlessly, unable to focus on serious thoughts due to his hunger.
His gaze lingered on the lamb meat in the cupboard.
"No, no. I must wait for Melissa to eat it together," Klein suddenly shook his head, rejecting the idea of cutting half and eating it now.
As a drifter in a big city, he was used to eating out, but he had still developed some basic cooking skills. It wasn't gourmet food, but it was enough to get by.
Turning his body, Klein decided to ignore it, but then he remembered that, in addition to buying meat this morning, he had also bought fresh peas and potatoes!
Potatoes! A light bulb went off in Klein's head. He quickly turned back, rushing to the cupboard and pulling out two potatoes.
He washed the skins of the potatoes clean in the shared washroom, then placed them directly into the pot with water to boil.
After some time, he took out a seasoning box from the cupboard, opened it, and sprinkled a bit of yellow, rough salt into the water.
He waited patiently for a few more minutes, then took the pot and poured the thin soup into several cups and a large bowl. Finally, he picked up the two boiled potatoes and placed them on the table.
Phew!
He blew lightly on the potato peel, and the smell of the cooked potatoes began to waft into the air, gradually stimulating his appetite.
Klein's mouth watered uncontrollably. Ignoring that he had only peeled half of it, and that the potatoes were still a little hot, he grabbed one and took a big bite.
Fluffy! Fragrant! The aftertaste was slightly sweet! Klein's heart filled with a deep sense of gratitude as he devoured the two potatoes, eating even some of the skin.
Only after finishing did he grab the large bowl and savor a sip of the "soup." The faint saltiness washed away the dryness from his mouth.
"I used to love eating like this when I was a kid..." Klein sighed softly, his stomach finally satisfied. He broke off a piece of the rye bread, soaking it in the "soup" to soften it.
Perhaps due to the exhaustion from the earlier "ritual," he ended up eating two full loaves—exactly one pound.
Drinking the "soup," tidying up, Klein felt as though he had come back to life. He experienced the joy of being human again and enjoyed the warmth of the sunlight.
He sat back at his desk and began to think about what he should do next.
"I can't avoid it. I must find a way to contact the mysterious realm, to become the extraordinary one mentioned by 'Justice' and 'The Hanged Man.'"
"I must conquer the fear born of the unknown."
"Currently, the only way forward is to wait for the next 'gathering' and see if I can overhear the 'audience' potion recipe or any other mysterious knowledge."
"There are still four days until Monday. Before that, I need to face the original owner's problems. Why did he commit suicide? What happened to him..."
Unable to return to the past and simply walk away, Klein picked up the open notebook, intending to flip through it for any clues, hoping to fill in the missing pieces of the original owner's memory.
Clearly, the original owner had a habit of keeping notes, and also liked to treat them as diaries.
Klein knew well that the cabinet, which served as the right leg of the desk, was filled with completed notebooks.
This one had been used since May 10th. The first entries mostly covered topics like school, mentors, and knowledge:
"May 12th: Mr. Azk mentioned that the common language of the Byron Empire in the Southern Continent also originated from Ancient Fusak, a branch of the Giant's Language. Why is that? Did all sentient beings once use the same language? No, that must be wrong. Even in the 'Revelation of the Night' and the 'Book of Storms,' the giants were not the only rulers of the continent in the ancient, more ancient eras. There were also elves, other species, and dragons. Well, these are just legends, just myths."
...
"May 16th: Senior Associate Professor Cohen and Mr. Azk discussed the inevitability of the Steam Age. Mr. Azk thinks it was a matter of chance. If Emperor Rossel hadn't appeared so suddenly, perhaps the Northern Continent would still be in the cold weapon era like the Southern Continent. My mentor believes Azk emphasizes the role of the individual too much. He believes that as times progress, even without Emperor Rossel, there would still be figures like Emperor Robert. In short, the Steam Age might be delayed, but it will surely come. I find their debate meaningless. I prefer discovering new things and restoring the history obscured by mist. Perhaps, I shouldn't have studied history; I should have studied archaeology."
...
"May 29th: Welch found me and said he obtained a Fourth Era notebook. My goddess, a Fourth Era notebook! He didn't want to ask the archaeology department classmates for help and wanted me and Naya to assist in deciphering the contents. How could I refuse such a thing? Of course, it will be after the graduation defense. I can't afford to be distracted right now."
Seeing this, Klein's spirits lifted. Compared to the previous notes on historical readings and debates, the "Fourth Era" notebook was far more likely to be the cause of the original owner's suicide.
The Fourth Era was the era before the current "Iron Age." Its history was shrouded in mystery, with many gaps. Even the few unearthed tombs, ancient cities, and documents were scarce. Historians and archaeologists could only rely on the vague, faith-based theological texts of the Seven Churches to piece together a little "outline," learning of the existence of the Solomon Empire, the Tudor Dynasty, and the Terenthorst Empire.
Determined to pierce the fog and restore history, Klein had little interest in the more mythical "Three Eras" but was deeply excited by the Fourth Era, also known as the "Age of the Gods."
"Hey, looking at it this way, the original owner's worries about the interview and future employment were actually unnecessary..." Klein couldn't help but sigh.
Currently, universities were still rare, and most students were children of nobles or wealthy families. Commoners, even if they faced discrimination due to their status and were excluded from others' social circles, could still gain some valuable connections through group discussions and collective activities, if they weren't too extreme. Such connections were extremely precious!
For example, Welch McGowan was the son of a banker from Conston City, a coastal town in the Kingdom of Rune. He was generous and often asked Klein and Naya for help, as they had been in the same study group for assignments and reports.
Not getting too distracted, Klein continued reading the notebook:
"June 18th: Graduation day. Goodbye, my Hoy University!"
"June 19th: I saw that notebook. After comparing the structure and word roots, I found that it was a variant of Ancient Fusak. More accurately, Ancient Fusak has been subtly evolving for over a thousand years."
"June 20th: We deciphered the first page. The author is a member of a family called 'Antigonus.'"
"June 21st: He mentioned the 'Black Emperor.' This completely contradicted the era inferred from previous content. Was my mentor's view wrong? Could the 'Black Emperor' actually be the common title for every emperor of the Solomon Empire?"
"June 22nd: The 'Antigonus' family seems to have a prominent position in the Solomon Empire. The notebook's owner mentioned conducting a secret transaction with someone named Tudor. Tudor? Tudor Dynasty?"
"June 23rd: I am controlling myself not to think about that notebook. I must focus on preparing for the interview! This is a very important matter!"
"June 24th: Naya told me they had new findings. I think I should go take a look."
"June 25th: From the newly decoded content, it seems the notebook's owner was tasked with going to the main peak of the 'Honachis' Mountains to visit the 'Night Kingdom' at the top. My goddess, the Honachis Mountains' main peak is over 6,000 meters high—how could there be a country there? How do they survive?"
"June 26th: Are these strange things real?"
Up to here, the notebook ended. Zhou Mingrui had crossed over in the early hours of June 28th.
"This means that the entry for June 27th does exist—it's the one that says, 'Everyone will die, including me.'" Klein flipped back to the first page he had seen earlier and felt a chill run down his spine.
He deduced that to solve the mystery of the original owner's suicide, he should visit Welch again and review the ancient notebook's contents. But, with his extensive knowledge of novels, movies, and TV shows, Klein felt that if he did go and the matter was indeed connected, it would most likely involve unknown dangers—just like those people who knowingly enter haunted castles and end up getting themselves killed!
But he knew he couldn't avoid it. Avoidance would never solve the problem. It would only allow the situation to escalate, until it overwhelmed him entirely.
Call the police? He couldn't exactly say he was about to commit suicide…
Bang!
Bang, bang!
Suddenly, there was a loud, urgent knocking at the door.
Klein straightened up suddenly, listening intently.
Bang!
Bang, bang!
The knocking echoed in the empty, quiet hallway outside.