An Attempt?

Following the fragments of memory in her mind, Angel arrived at the Silver Crown Restaurant at the other end of Narcissus Street.

Judging by its exterior, it was a mid-range restaurant specializing in a variety of cuisines. Customers could order freely or choose from well-balanced set meals, and its signature after-dinner sweet wine had earned it many returning patrons.

It was breakfast time, and although the Silver Crown Restaurant was relatively expensive compared to several other restaurants on Narcissus Street, it was still eighty percent full. Angel had wanted to find a seat against the wall, but in the end, she could only sit in the middle of the restaurant.

This inevitably made her the center of attention. Whether they were diners eating their meals or Waiters passing by, they would glance at her from time to time, then quickly look away as if afraid of being caught. Male customers accompanied by family members were perhaps somewhat restrained, but the Waiters behind her were practically blatant.

"Maybe I should just go somewhere else..." Angel sat as if on pins and needles. She had not expected to attract so much attention the moment she stepped outside, and she began to regret coming to this restaurant. Perhaps it would have been better to buy something from the street and take it back to her residence, but the aroma of food drifting from the neighboring table made her hesitate.

As she struggled with the decision, she spotted a table in the corner whose customers had just finished eating and were getting up to leave. She hurriedly called over a Waiter and expressed her wish to change tables.

Thanks to the Sweet Smile she forced out and a five-pence tip, the Waiter swiftly cleared the corner table, allowing her to escape the burning stares of the crowd.

Less than ten minutes after she sat down, a bowl of Feneboote Noodles accompanied by creamy mushroom soup and Vegetable Salad was brought to her table. Although Angel's memories contained no geographical information about "Feneport," the main dish looked remarkably like spaghetti with meat sauce, and its salty, tangy sauce satisfied her greatly.

After hurriedly finishing her hearty breakfast, Angel declined the complimentary after-dinner wine and left the Silver Crown Restaurant.

Excluding the extra five pence she had spent changing tables, the meal had still cost a full two Soule. If she ate like this for all three meals a day, her weekly expenses would exceed two pounds. An ordinary worker in Tingen City earned only around one pound a week. Even with Cole's "inheritance," she would not be able to keep this up for long, let alone considering that food was not her only daily expense.

Having just filled her stomach, Angel immediately regretted her extravagant behavior.

June in Tingen was not the hottest time of the year, but the Sun was especially harsh today. Even the ethereal chimes drifting from the distant cathedral could not dispel the heat generated by the sunlight.

Angel found a hooded cloak to hide her face, finally avoiding the embarrassment of being constantly scrutinized. However, the price was the rapidly rising temperature beneath the blazing sun. Even with her superhuman physique, she was nearly unable to endure it.

"Forget it. I probably won't get anything today. If it comes to it, I'll head out again tonight. As expected, it's just too hard to find these Gray-market businesses during the day." Angel wandered through several nearby streets, searching through Cole's memories as she visited a number of shops secretly engaged in Gray-market dealings. She did not find the channel she needed for forged identification. Only one middleman said he could try to think of a solution, but he demanded a fifty-pound deposit upfront and a month of waiting. Angel decisively refused.

By the afternoon, Angel had finally lost patience. She had not even stopped for lunch. Carrying various seasonings, bread, potatoes, and mutton she had bought along the way, she returned to the back alley of Narcissus Street. There was visibly more garbage in the alley than when she had left that morning, most of it kitchen waste from the households nearby. If no one cleaned it up, the entire back alley would probably be filled within a few days.

Carefully stepping around the piles of trash, she returned to her residence through the back door. She hung the cloak that concealed her appearance beside the door, sorted the seasonings into the Bottles and Jars that had been washed again, set aside a portion of the mutton and lightly marinated it to keep it from spoiling in the hot weather, then tossed the rest into the basement.

She then checked the doors and windows in every room. Only after confirming that the slip of paper she had placed in the door crack before leaving had not moved did she finally relax.

After finishing everything and taking a shower, Angel lay on the sofa by the bay window in the living room, hungry as she reminisced about her delicious breakfast.

"I didn't sleep all night, so I really am getting sleepy. I might as well sleep until dinner, then take care of lunch and dinner together..." Bathed in sunlight from outside the window, Angel felt her eyelids growing heavier and heavier. Just as she was about to lose consciousness and embrace sleep, her spiritual intuition suddenly issued a warning. There was danger in the study!

Angel sprang from the sofa like a coiled spring, grabbed the Revolver from the table, shoved open the study door, and rushed inside.

The brass badge on the desk was emitting a dangerous signal.

Her intuition told Angel that she should stay away from the badge and leave the study, yet another impulse in her heart told her that this badge was The Unusual.

With one hand tightly gripping the pistol and its muzzle aimed at the brass badge, she raised her other hand and reached toward it.

The instant her fingertips touched the badge, it bloomed with crimson waves, like the light cast down by last night's Crimson Moon, flooding the entire study.

At the same time, in a luxurious villa in Backlund's Queens Borough and aboard a Three-Masted Sailing Ship amid a storm on the Sonia Sea, the same crimson light illuminated two other people.

The crimson light came and went swiftly. Angel quickly regained her vision, only to find her right hand suddenly light—her tightly gripped Revolver had vanished without a trace. Cold sweat broke out on her back. She instinctively retreated several steps and surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings.

Amid the grayish-white mist, there were three others besides her. Not far to her right stood a tall, long-haired young woman, shaking her head as she observed the surroundings. Farther directly across from her stood a man with messy short hair and an average build. Angel could feel his gaze fixed upon her. Concealed within the Gray Fog, their figures were hazy and their faces indistinct. Only their outlines and hairstyles could barely be made out.

Besides those two, farther away stood a mysterious person entirely shrouded in dense mist. His figure was clearly different from the other two, flickering through the fog like a Phantom.

After quickly assessing the situation, Angel moved closer to the young woman. Together with the short-haired man, they formed a relatively compact triangle. Then, facing the mysterious person, she asked politely but vigilantly.

"May I ask who you are?"

At the same time, the other two also spoke in unison.

"Sir, where is this?"

"What do you want?"

The mysterious person chuckled and replied softly, "A simple attempt." The ethereal answer drifted from the Gray Fog. His tone was calm and refined, as though he were speaking with friends.

A simple attempt? Hearing such a joke-like answer, Angel did not feel the slightest urge to laugh. Instead, her entire body went cold. This mysterious person had merely wanted to conduct an attempt, and through some unknown, inconceivable means, he had snatched her from Narcissus Street in Tingen at noon and brought her into this Gray Fog.

He had even done the same thing to the other two at the same time!

The other two victims were clearly shocked by this answer as well. After a long silence, the young woman asked hesitantly, "Sir, is the attempt over? Can you send us back now?"

"Of course. If you formally request it, I can send you back right now." Like a professor on a podium answering a student's question, the mysterious person replied with a chuckle. There was not the slightest trace of malice in his voice.

Thank you. I want to leave right now. Please, sir. Angel only dared to think such words. Faced with this mysterious person of unknown strength, she could not bring herself to say them aloud.

Moreover, after receiving the promise that she could leave at any time, she instead became somewhat curious about the origins of this Gray Fog.

The long-haired young woman seemed to have a lively personality. Once she received the assurance of safety, she immediately revealed a side entirely opposite to her previous caution. "This is truly a wonderful experience... Hmm, I have always looked forward to miracles that transcend nature... I mean, sir, how can I become a Beyonder?"

Beyonder was the term this world used for people with supernatural abilities. It seemed that the young woman was not yet a Beyonder, but what about that tall, taciturn Male? Was he an ordinary person, or a Beyonder like Angel herself?

Just as Angel pondered this in secret, the Gray Fog around them churned and surged. One towering stone pillar after another appeared, and a dome formed overhead. Like the court of a Giant King, a magnificent and imposing structure instantly surrounded them.

A Bronze Long Table appeared beneath the dome as well. The mysterious person appeared in the High-backed Chair at its head. Ten identical chairs extended down the long table on each side of him, and with the empty seat opposite him, there were twenty-two seats in total.

Angel's vision blurred, and she too appeared in a High-backed Chair as if she had teleported. The mysterious person sat to her right, adjacent to the head of the table, while the short-haired Male opposite her had "taken his seat" as well. She tilted her head slightly to the left and, sure enough, the curiosity-filled young woman was seated at her Left Hand.

The mysterious person was running a hand along the edge of the long table. It seemed that all these changes had come from his will. The short-haired Male appeared determined to remain silent to the end. He leaned back against his chair with his arms crossed over his chest—but that defensive posture inadvertently revealed his unease. The young woman was still looking around, observing the other people at the long table.

Angel recalled the memory fragments in her mind concerning Potions and carefully considered her words before answering the young woman's question.

"The only way to become a Beyonder is through a Potion. You can join one of the major Orthodox Churches and obtain Potions legally, or purchase formulas through unofficial channels and brew them yourself."

"That's right. You're from Loen, judging by your accent?" The short-haired Male took over. "You can join the Church of the Night Goddess, the Church of the Lord of Storms, the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery, The Arbitration Tribunal, The Tribunal, or the Execution Institution. Beyonders have always fought against the dangers that grow in the darkness, and they welcome those who can contribute."

Thanks to her gradually recovering memories, Angel was no stranger to the churches he had mentioned. However, she knew very little about organizations such as The Arbitration Tribunal and The Tribunal.

Perhaps they were combat organizations of Beyonders belonging to the churches—like the Templar Order.

"Sir, I know everything you mentioned, and even more. For example, the Nighthawks, the Punishers, and the Heart of Machinery. But I don't want to lose my freedom."

The young woman's answer was surprising. Perhaps she was not as ignorant and naive as she had seemed earlier. At the very least, she knew quite a bit about the Beyonder world that interested her.

"How could there be such a good thing as becoming a Beyonder without paying a price? Either join a church and accept their supervision, seek help from families with ancient inheritances, or do as that lady said—use money to purchase a formula and brew a Potion yourself, at your own risk."

"Besides, a Potion brewed with the wrong formula is no different from poison."

When the young woman heard that money could solve the problem, she looked at him excitedly. Yet after hearing the last part, she lowered her head in disappointment. After remaining silent for quite some time, she finally asked, "Is there no other way?"

Angel guessed that the young woman might have come from a wealthy family. Solving problems with money did not seem difficult for her, but she clearly did not want to join a church and submit to official supervision, nor was she willing to risk her life on an unreliable Potion formula.

"It's not as though there are no other ways."

Angel felt that it was her turn to speak. The short-haired man had deliberately emphasized the difficulty of obtaining Potions, clearly laying some sort of groundwork. Since Angel had caught on, she did not mind making use of it. She looked toward the mysterious person at the head of the table. Seeing that he remained silent and did not stop their conversation, she replied unhurriedly.

"I have a Sequence 9 Potion formula on hand..."

"Really? Which one?" the young woman asked urgently.

Angel was quite satisfied with her reaction and continued.

"This formula is called 'Assassin.' Its drinker can gain enhanced owl-like vision and Dark Vision, excel at combat and evasion, make their body as light as a feather for a short time, and concentrate all their strength into a single blow to easily kill a target—just like its name."

"It sounds like a Potion focused on combat ability..." the young woman murmured. She seemed dissatisfied with its effects, and there was a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"Yes. Not only is it focused on combat, its advancement even requires killing others."

Angel nodded, acknowledging the shortcomings of the Assassin Potion. The other party was clearly a wealthy young woman, inexperienced in worldly matters yet longing for the Beyonder world. However, she only wanted to experience mysterious powers, not use them to improve her combat ability.

Sure enough, after hesitating for a moment, the young woman spoke again. "Are there other types? I heard that some Beyonders can foresee the future or understand the past..."

"Sorry, I don't know the names or formulas of those Potions. But perhaps I can collect them for you, provided that you pay a certain reward."

"I would be more than willing to offer a reward."

The young woman immediately replied.

"Very well. If I can find a Potion formula for exchange, I hope you can provide a legal identity valid throughout the Ruen Kingdom. Whether you solve it through money or connections, have it delivered to Tingen City—well, to my friend there. And add another one hundred pounds."

It was a reasonable offer. In Cole's memories, Mrs. Sharon had once said that the formula for the Assassin Potion alone could sell for more than 200 Pounds outside. Other Potion formulas presumably had similar value.

"A legal identity..." The young woman thought for a moment before understanding Angel's request. "I understand. I'll find a way to handle it. I hope you can find a suitable Potion, or relevant clues, as soon as possible..."

Just as the two reached a preliminary agreement, the short-haired man who had been watching coldly from the sidelines spoke.

"I also have two Sequence 9 Potion formulas..."