An Unexpected Rejection

After carefully reviewing all his memories and confirming that he had no so-called followers, Cyril stared at the floor-length mirror before him with a solemn expression:

"Are you certain he is my follower?"

Seeming to sense Cyril's mood, the ripples on the mirror's surface turned chaotic, and it took a good while for silver words to emerge:

"I am very certain. To avoid any mistakes, I even secretly observed him for a period of time."

While Arrodes provided the answer, it also constructed a realistic portrait within the mirror:

It was an elderly man with half-white hair, wearing a grey-collared shirt and a wool coat. His eyes were light blue and exceptionally clear, like a pristine lake under a blue sky.

"His name is House, a member of the Backlund Heart of Mechanics squad, and a Sequence 9 Mystery Pryer."

Cyril looked at the portrait in the mirror, and a memory immediately flashed through his mind. It was from when he had just transmigrated, and a Heart of Mechanics squad had come to investigate the evil ritual that caused the original owner's death.

He remembered that this old man named House had glanced at him from afar while in the carriage. He felt that the man had seen something in him at the time, which had caused him to worry for several days. As it turned out, the people from the Heart of Mechanics never came to find him, and he had almost forgotten about the incident.

So, at that time, he had indeed seen something he shouldn't have from me due to the characteristics of a Mystery Pryer, and because of that, he suffered corruption and became my follower?

But he might not necessarily be my follower; it is also possible that the High-Dimensional Overseer in the starry sky discovered him and took advantage of the situation to develop him into a follower.

If it were the latter case, then his plan to steal the sealed artifact beneath Saint Hillan Cathedral must be aimed at me.

Is it purely to gain the power to deal with me, or is he using this to frame me, pushing me into opposition with the Church of Steam and Machinery, and using the power of the orthodox church to deal with me?

Hiss, if that's the case, that's quite ruthless.

I must take countermeasures. Whether he is my follower or a follower of the High-Dimensional Overseer, I cannot let him continue this plan.

Thinking of this, he looked at the rippling mirror and said in a deep voice:

"Stop him, but do not harm him. This is not my intention."

In principle, he would have preferred for Arrodes to find a way to kill the man, but unfortunately, this guy was just a restricted sealed artifact and might not be able to pull it off.

Moreover, he was also worried that if House died, it would cause a backlash, attracting the attention of the Church of Steam and Machinery to himself. Therefore, it was better to keep him alive until he thought of a solution.

Following his words, lines of text quickly emerged on the surface of the floor-length mirror:

"No problem, I will convey your oracle to him."

Even though it was just text, it made him feel the hidden sense of loss from the other party; it seemed this mirror really wanted to leave the Church of Steam.

I thought this little mirror only wanted to follow Klein and leave the Church of Steam after he appeared. It turns out it has always had the heart to defect.

It makes sense; with living characteristics, who would want to be a sealed artifact held in someone's hand?

As he thought about this, he suddenly froze, realizing belatedly that he seemed to have an extraordinary interpretation of text, able to see the emotions and vague thoughts hidden at the bottom of the other party's heart through simple words.

Did I gain some of the abilities belonging to the High-Dimensional Overseer after advancing to Trickmaster?

This seems different from a potion; it requires me to discover, understand, and master it myself...

Coming back to his senses, he saw a line of words that had long appeared on the floor-length mirror but dared not disappear because he hadn't answered:

"Sublime existence, do you have any more questions?"

Cyril shook his head slightly: "No."

On the mirror, the words instantly came to life:

"Sublime existence, Arrodes takes its leave."

"I will convey your oracle to your follower right away."

As the silver-white words on the mirror vanished, the floor-length mirror instantly brightened, once again reflecting the layout of the room and Cyril's reflection.

Thump, thump.

The door was knocked on just at that moment. Before Cyril could go to open it, the person outside had already pushed it open.

Wearing a well-fitted formal suit, a top hat, and gold-rimmed glasses, Haven stood at the doorway and tossed a letter toward him:

"A letter for you, from the Cuckoo Newspaper. It should be news regarding the submission you sent a couple of days ago."

"Also, you didn't go to school this morning?"

Cyril reached out, and the envelope landed perfectly in his hand: "It's not a big deal. I've already taken two weeks of leave; no one will notice if I take one more morning off."

Haven outside the door seemed used to him being like this and didn't ask further, instead saying:

"You'll have to figure out your own lunch and dinner today. I'm going to attend a gathering in a while; it's an invitation from Academician Portland Mormont."

"By the way, do you need me to set aside some living expenses for you today?"

Cyril waved the envelope in his hand generously: "No need. I'll be able to pay back the money I borrowed from you soon."

Haven raised an eyebrow slightly, teasing him in a good mood: "Just pay it back?"

"Shouldn't it be your turn to lend me a sum of startup capital for my laboratory this time?"

"You're planning to set up your own laboratory?" Cyril looked at Haven in surprise.

He somewhat suspected whether his own intelligence had been snatched away by Haven while they were in their mother's womb; otherwise, why would there be such a huge gap between twins?

Haven nodded with a restrained smile: "That depends on the outcome of today's gathering. However, Academician Portland Mormont said he thinks highly of me. If things go smoothly, I might be able to secure some investment through his connections."

"Then I wish you all the best." Cyril raised both hands and gave the other party a hug in the air.

He paused, then added, "To show my support, if the investment you manage to secure falls short of your expectations, I will cover the difference, no matter how much it is."

Haven raised a hand to adjust his top hat and chuckled, "You could have a little more faith in me, and I hope you have enough faith in your own savings."

"Alright, I must be off. I still need to go see Academician Portland Mormont first."

With that, Haven turned and walked toward the stairwell.

Watching Haven's back disappear, Cyril sat down at his desk and lowered his head to open the envelope in his hand.

The reply from the Cuckoo Newspaper consisted of only a single sheet of paper with a few lines of words; the paper was damaged in several places, and the handwriting could hardly be called neat.

Even without relying on his own ability to interpret text, he could tell that the person who wrote this letter was far from calm.

A moment later, the letter and the envelope beneath it suddenly ignited in his hands, turning into ashes that were swept out the window by the flowing air.

His submission had been rejected on the grounds of blasphemy, and the newspaper's editor had stated that if there were a next time, he would report him to the nearby Church of Silent Night.

"For a newspaper affiliated with the Church of Steam, to say they're going to report me to the Goddess of Night's Church of Silent Night—the editor who replied to me certainly knows how to protect himself."

Muttering a small complaint, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the gray sky outside the window, lost in thought.

He could roughly guess which part of his content had led to the rejection: the Abyss Order and the God of Wind who sang on the streets to swindle drinks.

"If I had written about the False Sky, I'd probably have all seven orthodox churches showing up at my door to check my gas meter."

"How stingy; they don't understand the meaning of freedom of thought at all."

"Sooner or later, I will instill the will of freedom throughout this world!"

"But before that, I need to come up with a new piece of literature that Roselle hasn't plagiarized and that can be published in this world. I still need to make money."

After staring at the sky outside and murmuring for a while, he suddenly sat up straight and picked up the round-bellied fountain pen placed to the side:

This was a story about technological development and environmental pollution, about the class conflict between high-level administrators and the people at the bottom.

It was a story that integrated love, family, friendship, resistance, conspiracy, and adventure.

In a distant world, there was a city famous for its advanced technological development; it was called Zaun...