"Fool that does not belong to this era, mysterious ruler above the Gray Fog, King of Yellow and Black who holds dominion over good fortune."
"Your faithful servant prays for Your gaze;
Prays that You open the gates to Your kingdom;
Prays that You bestow strength."
As the ritual ended, a small, neatly arranged stack of gold pounds appeared on the floor.
Cyril crouched halfway down and curiously examined the gold pounds on the ground. In the reality he could see, faint grayish-white mist was dissipating from them.
After only a few breaths, all the Gray Fog clinging to the gold pounds had dispersed, leaving them as ordinary banknotes.
"Since they merely made a transfer through Sefirah Castle, only a little Gray Fog clung to their surfaces. But I received the Fool's acknowledgment and can enter above the Gray Fog, so there's always a fixed amount of Gray Fog around me, like a mark?"
As he muttered to himself, he turned to glance at the full-length mirror behind him. In the reflection, a faint, illusory Gray Fog that seemed to exist and not exist continued to surround him.
Ding-dong~
Someone rang the doorbell downstairs.
Cyril stopped thinking about it, quickly tidied the room, and headed downstairs.
Outside stood Max Livermore, the captain of the Machinery Hivemind squad he had met before, along with his teammate Carlson.
Cyril gave them a slight nod, then stepped aside to make room for them to enter as he asked,
"Gentlemen, it shouldn't be vacation time right now. What brings you here?"
As the captain, Max spoke bluntly. "We came to invite you to join the Machinery Hivemind."
"Huh?" Cyril froze. The Machinery Hivemind had not appeared at all lately, and he had nearly assumed they had forgotten about him, a freelance Beyonder.
After