Noticed by Mr. Fool

Tingen, the Klein household, kitchen.

A young man with a somewhat scholarly air was cooking.

He had black hair and brown eyes, wore an off-white linen shirt and an apron, and was thin, with ordinary features and deeply defined contours.

His name was Klein Moretti.

Looking at the pot before him, Klein opened the jar in his hand, scooped out a spoonful of lard, tossed it into the pot, and casually put the lid on.

"All right, now it just needs to simmer for twenty minutes," Klein muttered to himself.

He was making tender pea stew with lamb.

Klein walked out of the kitchen, untied his apron, and planned to sit on the sofa and rest for a while.

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Suddenly, he sensed a faint sound by his ear, and it seemed as though a scarlet light flashed before his eyes.

"Hm? What was that?" Klein paused, baffled as he looked around.

But there was nothing beside him.

Then he recalled the Tarot Club he had established today.

Klein instinctively felt that this might be connected to the mysterious palace Above the Gray Fog.

Since he happened to have some time now, he simply set down his scarf, pushed open the door to his room, casually shut and locked it, then took four steps backward, reciting a line with every step.

"Blessings of the Mysterious Yellow Immortal Venerable, blessings of the Mysterious Yellow Heavenly Lord, blessings of the Mysterious Yellow God Almighty, blessings of the Mysterious Yellow Celestial Venerable."

The next moment, Klein felt his soul leave his body and rapidly rise, piercing through layer after layer of mad ravings until it arrived Above the Gray Fog.

The towering, magnificent palace stood silently there. The ancient, mottled bronze long table and twenty-two high-backed chairs had not changed in the slightest.

Klein appeared directly at the head of the long table, looking down at the bronze table before him and at the scarlet stars within the Gray Fog.

He discovered that one dark crimson star was faintly contracting and expanding.

Klein looked at the star curiously. As a veteran internet user, having a red dot right before his eyes that he could not click was truly torturous.

So, he tentatively stretched out his hand and lightly tapped it.

This time, unlike when he had accidentally touched the two scarlet stars representing Justice and the Hanged Man and dragged them significantly, he merely gave it a light tap.

The scarlet star immediately expanded. Through the crimson light, Klein vaguely saw a human figure.

He narrowed his eyes, but he could not make it out at all. All he could see was a blurry humanoid shape. Judging by its rough outline, it was probably a man.

He even seemed to be a tattooed man, with strips of fluorescent tattoos across his body.

As for anything deeper—what this person looked like or what he was doing—Klein could not see clearly.

Under Klein's gaze, the man seemed to raise a cup, tilt back his head, and drink what was inside.

Could this be the "Potion" Mr. Hanged Man and Miss Justice had mentioned during their conversation?

Klein thought so.

The next moment, he noticed that the scene in the image had changed.

He saw a pair of eyes appear before the man after he drank the Potion.

The man seemed to freeze, failing to react as he stood there blankly for several seconds.

Then, the man tore off a mask hanging from the side of his face and slapped it toward the eyes before him.

Meanwhile, elsewhere.

Aboard the Clover, in Morien's room.

Morien raised his head. The potion slid into his mouth like an entire piece of jelly, passed down his throat and into his stomach, leaving no residue on the cup's walls.

In the next instant, a strange sensation immediately flooded Morien's entire body, especially his eyes.

Morien lowered his head, rolled his eyes, and looked around.

He suddenly discovered that his surroundings had become incomparably clear in his eyes, while his ears had become incomparably sharp.

All kinds of information surged into his vision. Every corner within his sight was crystal clear; meanwhile, indistinct whispers of unknown origin and meaning drifted into his ears.

Looking toward the wall at his side, Morien noticed many additional colors on it.

They were the outlines of human figures, constantly moving.

Morien knew that he was directly seeing the spirit bodies of the passengers next door through the wall.

Perhaps not just next door.

Perhaps even the room beyond that.

Morien continued observing and discovered that this place contained not only the spirits of the living, but even more spirits of the dead.

That was understandable. After all, the Clover had just experienced a massive riot not long ago, and more people had died than survived.

As the image before him grew clearer and clearer, Morien's eyes began to ache and swell, while his head throbbed.

At the same time, the things Morien saw began to lag. He tried shifting his vision and found that although the image before him was exceptionally clear, it was lagging terribly.

The sense of déjà vu was rather strong. Morien recalled how, when he played games as a child in his previous life, he always liked to set the graphics quality especially high and turn every effect to maximum.

But the computer he used was an old machine his family had bought when they were young, older than little Morien himself had been at the time.

The feeling of maxing out the graphics while the computer could not keep up with the performance requirements was very much like this.

"Fuck, this optimization is truly awful." Morien raised a hand, pinched the bridge of his nose, and closed his eyes, planning to first calm the overly active spirituality caused by his recent advancement.

He quickly formed the image of a mask in his mind.

This was the meditation method of this world.

First, quickly imagine something common, simple, and easy. Then, after the image took shape, empty the mind and replace the thing initially imagined with an object that did not exist in this world, something imagined out of thin air.

The mask quickly took shape, and Morien swiftly replaced the mask he had imagined.

But what should he use to replace it? That gave Morien some trouble.

After all, he had trouble making choices.

Something that doesn't exist... something that doesn't exist...

Morien had a flash of inspiration and quickly sketched a face in his mind.

It was the face of "Cuttlefish That Loves Diving," the author of the original Lord of the Mysteries.

This definitely doesn't exist in this world, right?

Morien wondered.

But he soon discovered that Cuttlefish's face would not work, because this world actually seemed to have a character similar to Cuttlefish.

A round face, small eyes, someone who looked easy to talk to, with a shy personality like a girl's...

Isn't that Tris?

So Tris is Cuttlefish's counterpart.

Seeing that meditating on Tris would not work, Morien switched to another idea.

He imagined a pile of toys made up of masks, playing cards, balls, dolls, and other objects, along with a pitch-black human figure hidden behind those toys.

Although all of those were fairly common things in this world, the thing formed by combining them did not exist here.

He directly meditated on the Aeon of Elation.

Sure enough, this time, he succeeded.

His spirituality gradually settled, and Morien slowly let out a breath.

He opened his eyes again...

Then, he saw a pair of eyelashless, cold and merciless eyes that were nearly transparent.

Those almost illusory eyes were quietly watching him.

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