A Simple Attempt?

Following the fragments of memory in her mind, Angel arrived at the Silver Crown Restaurant at the other end of Daffodil 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 distinctive after-dinner dessert wine brought in many returning patrons.

It was breakfast time, and although the Silver Crown Restaurant was relatively expensive compared with several other restaurants on Daffodil 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 or passing waiters, they kept glancing at her, only to quickly look away as though afraid of being caught. The male guests with family members present were somewhat restrained, but the waiters behind her were practically shameless.

"Maybe I should just go somewhere else..." Angel sat on pins and needles. She had never expected to draw so much attention the moment she stepped outside, and she was beginning to regret coming to this restaurant. Perhaps it would have been better to buy something casually from the street and take it back to her residence, but the aroma of food drifting over from the neighboring table made her hesitate.

While she was struggling with the decision, she noticed that a table in the corner had just finished their meal and was getting up to leave. She hurriedly beckoned over a waiter and expressed her wish to change tables.

Thanks to her sweetly forced smile and a five-pence tip, the waiter quickly cleared the corner table, freeing her from the scorching stares of the crowd.

Less than ten minutes after she sat down, a serving of Feneboote Noodles accompanied by creamy mushroom soup and vegetable salad was placed before her. Though Angel's memories contained no geographical information about "Feynapotter," the main dish looked remarkably like spaghetti with meat sauce, and its salty, tangy sauce left her satisfied.

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

Not counting the extra five pence she had spent changing seats, the meal had cost a full two soli. If she ate like this three times a day, her weekly expenses would exceed two pounds. Ordinary workers in Tingen City earned only about one pound a week. Even Cole's "inheritance" would not last long, let alone with expenses beyond food.

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 fierce today. Even the ethereal bells drifting from the distant cathedral could not dispel the heat brought by the sunlight.

Angel found a hooded cloak to conceal her face, finally avoiding the embarrassment of constantly being scrutinized. The price, however, was that her body heated up rapidly under the blazing sun. Even with her physique surpassing that of an ordinary person, she was nearly unable to endure it.

"Forget it. I probably won't find anything today. If it comes down to it, I'll go out again tonight. As expected, it's still too difficult to find these gray-market businesses during the day." Angel wandered through several nearby streets, digging through Cole's memories as she visited shops secretly involved in gray-market dealings. She failed to find a channel for fake identification papers. Only one middleman said he could try to figure something out, but he demanded a fifty-pound deposit and a month's wait right from the start, so Angel decisively turned him down.

By the afternoon, Angel, who had not even had time for lunch, finally lost her patience. Carrying various seasonings, bread, potatoes, and lamb she had bought along the way, she returned to the back alley of Daffodil Street. The amount of garbage in the alley had visibly increased since she left that morning, most of it kitchen waste from the surrounding homes. If no one cleaned it up, the entire alley would likely be filled within a few days.

Carefully stepping around the piles of trash, she entered her residence through the back door. She hung the cloak that concealed her appearance beside the entrance, sorted the seasonings into jars and bottles she had washed again, set aside a small portion of the lamb to marinate so it would not spoil in the hot weather, and tossed the rest into the basement.

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

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

"I didn't sleep all night. I really am getting sleepy now. I might as well sleep until dinner, then take care of lunch and dinner together..." Bathed in the sunlight streaming through the window, Angel felt her eyelids grow 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 up from the sofa like a released spring, snatched up the revolver on the table, shoved open the study door, and rushed inside.

On the desk, the brass badge 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 hinted at the badge's uniqueness.

Keeping one hand tightly around the revolver, 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 deep 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 deep crimson light illuminated two other people.

The deep crimson light came and went quickly. Angel soon regained her vision, only to feel her right hand suddenly grow lighter. The revolver she had been gripping had vanished without a trace. Cold sweat broke out across her back, and she instinctively stepped back several paces, examining the unfamiliar surroundings.

Within the grayish-white mist, there were three other people besides her. Not far to her right stood a tall, long-haired girl, turning her head as she surveyed the surroundings. Farther directly opposite her was a man with messy short hair and an average build. Angel could feel his gaze fixed on her. Hidden within the Gray Fog, their figures were hazy and their faces indistinct, leaving only their rough outlines and hairstyles barely recognizable.

Beyond those two, farther away, stood a mysterious person completely enveloped 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 edged closer to the girl. 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 spoke in unison.

"Sir, where is this?"

"What do you want?"

The mysterious person chuckled softly and replied in a low voice, "A simple attempt." His ethereal answer came from within the Gray Fog, his tone calm and gentle, as though he were chatting with friends.

A simple attempt? Hearing that joke-like answer, Angel felt no urge to laugh whatsoever. Instead, a chill ran through her entire body. This mysterious person had used some unknown, unimaginable method to snatch her from Daffodil Street in Tingen City at noon and bring her into this Gray Fog simply because he wanted to conduct an attempt.

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

The other two victims were clearly just as shocked by that answer. After a long silence, the girl 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 at a lectern answering a student's question, the mysterious person replied with a soft laugh, without the slightest trace of malice.

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 say them aloud.

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

The long-haired girl seemed to have a lively personality. Once she received the promise of safety, she immediately displayed a side completely opposite to her earlier caution. "This is truly a marvelous experience... Well, I've always looked forward to miracles that transcend nature... What I mean is, sir, how can I become a Beyonder?"

Beyonder was this world's term for people with supernatural abilities. It seemed the girl was not yet a Beyonder, but what about that tall, taciturn man? Was he an ordinary person, or a Beyonder like herself?

Just as Angel was pondering this inwardly, the Gray Fog around them roiled and surged. Towering stone pillars emerged, their tops covered by a dome. Like the court of a giant king, a grand and magnificent structure instantly surrounded them.

A long bronze table also appeared beneath the dome. The mysterious person appeared in a high-backed chair at the head of the table. Ten identical chairs extended down either side toward the lower end, and with the empty seat opposite him, there were twenty-two seats in total.

Angel's vision blurred, and she too seemed to teleport onto a high-backed chair. The mysterious person was seated to her right, adjacent to the head of the table, while the short-haired man opposite her "took his seat" as well. She turned slightly to her left, and sure enough, the girl brimming with curiosity sat at her left hand.

The mysterious person was running his hand along the edge of the long table, making it seem as though all these changes had arisen from his will. The short-haired man appeared determined to remain silent to the end. He leaned against the back of his chair, arms crossed over his chest—but that defensive posture inadvertently exposed his unease. The girl was still looking around, observing the others at the table.

Angel recalled the fragments of memory concerning Potions in her mind and carefully considered her wording before answering the girl's question.

"To become a Beyonder, the only method is through Potions. You can join the major Orthodox Churches and obtain Potions legally, or purchase formulas through unofficial channels and brew them yourself."

"That's right. You're from the Loen Kingdom, judging by your accent?" The short-haired man took over. "You can join the Church of the Evernight 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 growing in the darkness, and they welcome those who can contribute."

Thanks to her gradually recovering memories, Angel was not unfamiliar with the churches he mentioned, but she knew little about institutions such as the Arbitration Tribunal and the Tribunal.

Perhaps they were the churches' Beyonder combat organizations—like the Templar Order.

"Sir, I know all that. I know even more, such as the Nighthawks, the Mandated Punishers, and the Machinery Hivemind. But I don't want to lose my freedom."

The girl's response 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 its control, seek help from families with ancient inheritances, or do as that lady said—buy a formula with money and brew the Potion yourself, at your own risk."

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

The girl looked excitedly toward him when she heard that money could solve the problem, but lowered her head in disappointment at his final words. After remaining silent for quite a while, she asked, "Is there really no other way?"

Angel guessed that the girl 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 control, nor did she wish to risk her life on unreliable Potion formulas.

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

Angel felt it was time for her to speak. The short-haired man had deliberately emphasized the difficulty of obtaining Potions, clearly laying groundwork for something. Since Angel had caught on, she did not mind taking advantage of it. She looked toward the mysterious person at the head of the table. Seeing that he remained silent and made no move to stop their discussion, she answered unhurriedly.

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

"Really? Which one?" the girl pressed urgently.

Angel was very satisfied with the girl's reaction and continued.

"This formula is called 'Assassin.' Its drinker gains enhanced vision and Dark Vision like an owl's, excels at fighting and dodging, can make their body as light as a feather for a short time, and can concentrate all their strength into a single strike to easily kill a target—just like its name."

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

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

Angel nodded, acknowledging the flaw in the Assassin Potion. The other party was clearly a wealthy young lady, inexperienced in the ways of the world but yearning for the Beyonder world. Yet she only wanted to experience mysterious powers, rather than use them to improve her combat strength.

Sure enough, after hesitating for a moment, the girl 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 gather them for you, provided that you pay a certain reward."

"I would be more than willing to pay."

The girl answered immediately.

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

It was a reasonable price. In Cole's memories, Mrs. Sharon had said that the Assassin Potion formula alone could sell for more than two hundred pounds outside. Other Potion formulas presumably held similar value.

"A legal identity..." The girl thought for a moment and understood Angel's request. "I understand. I'll find a way to arrange it. I hope you can find a suitable Potion, or relevant clues, as soon as possible..."

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

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