Trickmaster

Inside an empty hotel room in the Backlund Bridge district, two figures, one tall and one short, materialized from nothingness in a somewhat bedraggled state.

They did not linger. The moment the Teleport ended, they used the ability of "Opening Door"—passing through walls when faced with walls, opening doors when faced with doors.

Only after running several streets away and arriving beside the nearest Evernight Church did they finally stop.

Fors cautiously looked behind her. "That Spirit World creature didn't follow us, did it?"

Xio carefully scanned the surroundings before shaking her head slightly. "No."

"That's good." Fors raised a hand to pat her chest and let out a long breath.

"What terrible luck. I've traveled through the Spirit World so many times, but this is the first time I've ever been chased by a Spirit World creature."

"Normally, weak Spirit World creatures avoid humans capable of traveling through the Spirit World, while the powerful ones should disdain weak Beyonders like us."

Xio frowned. After removing the disguise from her face, she looked at the Evernight Church before her and said, "Let's go into the church and pray. It may not help, but it'll put us more at ease."

Fors looked at Xio in surprise. "You think this wasn't a coincidence?"

After giving it some thought, she agreed with the suggestion. In the rules of survival within the mysterious world, caution always came first.

In the room, Cyril gently rubbed his forehead as he thought over what had just happened.

Although he had no idea why Xio and Fors had suddenly barged into his home, entering the Mirror World earlier had digested the last bit of his Apprentice potion.

But...

"Just entering the Mirror World once really had such a good acting effect?"

"And... setting aside why they broke into my home, Xio was a mature Bounty Hunter. For her to barge in so openly in broad daylight without sufficient intelligence was far beneath a Bounty Hunter's standards."

"Especially Fors, who followed behind her without even the slightest disguise. She looked like she had suddenly decided to attend a gathering among friends."

"A contrived, third-rate, shoddy script. It shouldn't be Adam's work—this is far too low-level. That lousy third-rate author, 0-08, shouldn't have arrived in Backlund yet either. So who did this?"

"Forget it. At least digesting the potion is a good thing for me."

Thinking of the string of people and events he had encountered recently, Cyril's desire for power became even more urgent.

If he did not have to pay a price, he only hoped there would be more of these third-rate scripts. There was nothing shameful about making easy money.

In this dangerous world, one needed to become at least an angel to have any sense of security. And the fastest way to become an angel...

He shook his head and cut off his thoughts. "I can't keep thinking about this. It would be bad if Amon showed up and helped grant my wish."

After sitting quietly for a while longer, he got up, took his coat, and prepared to leave.

Since the Apprentice potion had already been digested, and he had the main ingredient for the Trickmaster potion, he could begin preparing for his advancement.

The supplementary ingredients for this Sequence were relatively ordinary as well. He could gather them all from any herbal shop.

After Cyril left, inside an unnoticed carriage parked at the intersection on this street, a meticulously groomed gentleman repeatedly swept his gaze over Cyril's retreating back before muttering to himself, "Was my arrangement really that bad?"

"To know about Amon and 0-08, this newcomer truly isn't as simple as he appears."

"But judging from his reaction, I suppose my gesture of goodwill was successful. What do you think, Mr. Hermes?"

No one answered his muttering in the empty carriage.

He smiled indifferently. Though he received no response, he knew the other party had definitely heard him.

When he spoke just now, he had deliberately left traces of his voice in the nearby Collective Unconscious Sea. Yet the moment his words fell, those traces naturally dissipated.

If Cyril had turned around and been able to see this place, he would have recognized the gentleman talking to himself in the carriage at a glance. He was none other than Baros Hopkins, the King of the Black Throne who had previously helped him gather potion ingredients.

Unfortunately, Cyril would not see this scene. Even high-Sequence Beyonders found it difficult to notice a high-ranking Spectator deliberately hiding himself.

After quietly muttering a few more words, Baros Hopkins calmly turned around and reached out, tearing open a broad rift in the air large enough for someone to pass through.

Beyond the rift lay bizarre and fantastical dreams. Since it was daytime and not many people were sleeping, the dreams were noticeably sparse. However, that posed no challenge for a Dream Weaver.

As long as he wished it, he could make the people on the streets take a brief nap at any moment, creating bridges—or rather, stepping stones—for his dream traversal.

He stood before the rift, tilting his head slightly and pausing as though listening for something. Then he stepped directly into one of the dreams within the rift, silently disappearing from the carriage.

At dusk, Cyril shut the doors and windows, drew the curtains, and sat before the cleaned desk.

On the table before him were the supplementary ingredients for the Trickmaster potion, which he had spent half the afternoon gathering, along with the main ingredient he had acquired earlier through trade.

After using meditation to adjust himself into the proper state, he picked up the prepared glass and placed the ingredients before him into it one by one.

A Spirit Eater's stomach pouch, Deep Sea Spearfish blood, essential oil made from Hornbeam, Yarn Grass powder, blooming Red Chestnut Flower, and pure water.

After gently shaking the glass, the ingredients inside, mixed into a clump, rapidly melted away. In the end, they became a cup of vivid, multicolored liquid resembling poisonous mushrooms.

Looking at the completed potion in his hand, Cyril could not help but suck in a breath. This potion was looking more and more "poisonous."

"If I hadn't prepared it myself, who would have guessed this thing was a Trickmaster potion..."

After quietly complaining, he brought the glass to his lips and, with mixed feelings, downed the vivid, multicolored liquid in one gulp.

The potion dissolved the moment it entered his mouth. He only felt a burst of icy coolness before his body lost all sensation.

At the same time, his mind was enveloped by all manner of sensations. It was as though he saw colorful, abstract hues and the truth of the world.

Outside the house, Backlund's orange evening sky abruptly darkened. One star after another began to shine, asserting its presence in the heavens.

The next second, the tranquil Night Veil descended. Whether it was the orange sunset or the stars that had suddenly appeared and continued to glitter, all were covered by the Night Veil and vanished from the sky.

Then a fierce wind suddenly swept across the heavens, bringing large swathes of dark clouds with it, as though a storm was about to arrive.

The pedestrians coming and going on the streets no longer wondered why the sky had darkened so quickly today. It was normal for darkness to fall faster during a storm. All they wanted now was to return home before the rain came down. They were not afraid of getting wet, but catching a cold or falling ill afterward could easily drag down a family barely managing to survive.

Inside the room, Cyril, leaning back in his chair, opened his eyes at that moment. The dense, gorgeous, madness-filled colors in his pupils rapidly faded, returning to calmness.

This advancement had been easier than expected. During it, he could sense the existence of the High-Dimensional Overseer at an infinitely lofty distance, yet It had not interfered with him. It had even allowed that tiny fraction of authority and characteristics to flow toward him, as though It were an Observer detached from the world.

"Observer..." Cyril murmured softly.

His spirituality was suddenly stirred. The fleeting thought of "Observer" in his mind seemed to be something extremely important, but he failed to grasp that flash of inspiration.

Gathering his thoughts and temporarily suppressing the idea, he began observing the changes within himself.

The Trickmaster potion brought a certain enhancement to his physical agility, along with a large number of flashy but low-intensity spells and spell-like abilities.

There was Flash, which had an effect similar to a flashbang; Black Curtain, like a magician's prop; Loud Noise, which created explosive sounds; Electric Shock, which could make someone manually receive an electric shock; Freeze, enough to serve as an ice-making machine; as well as Gust, igniting flames, Mist Creation, Transfer Gas... a whole pile of useful and useless abilities.

There was also the seemingly most useful Escape Trick. It was an inferior version of Blink, allowing him to rapidly shift his body after drawing a target's attention.

"This is probably the Sequence that grants the most abilities out of all the pathways. Too bad they're weak as hell."