Exchanging Information

Favorites: 1+

Record: Your adventure biography has received more than 1 favorite. You have met the requirements and the usage restriction on the "Message Board" has been lifted.

Sifa's gaze naturally moved downward, and he saw a box appear below with the information: "Message Board: 1."

Message Board? Could he leave a message on it? For whom to see? Sifa's mind failed to process it at first, but then he noticed there was more information on the page.

Right below the Message Board.

"Faceless: Is this Lord of Mysteries fanfiction? Definitely favorited it~"

"Endless Mountains and Seas: Go adventure, young man. There isn't enough to read."

Buzz!

Sifa felt as if he had been struck by lightning and nearly jumped to his feet.

Could this be—

Could these be reader comments?

In the eyes of those commenters, was he a character in some novel?

Sifa's mind instantly became a mess.

He had read quite a few webnovels in his previous life, but he had never seen a protagonist in any novel encounter something like this.

Only Deadpool from some comic knew he was a comic book character. He had never expected that today, he too would become a character in some novel—and could even see reader comments!

Wait.

Sifa quickly looked up, his gaze falling on the "Message Board."

Could this thing allow him to communicate with the "readers"?

What information could they exchange?

Right, he could exchange important information!

Sifa slapped his forehead.

He had read fewer than fifty chapters of Lord of Mysteries. He did not know what happened later, nor did he understand the mysteries within the book.

But the "readers" knew, and he could see their comments.

That meant he could obtain important information from them through the Message Board!

Well, provided they were willing to leave comments. They should be, right?

Whatever. He would try first.

Sifa picked up the feather pen and wrote on the Message Board: Dear readers—

Not appropriate.

Sifa shook his head and crossed out the few words he had written. Something miraculous happened: the crossed-out words actually vanished.

It could do that too?

He steadied himself and continued thinking.

He was merely a character in a novel. Without question, those readers stood far above him. In some popular novels, readers' preferences even determined how the plot developed.

If he wanted to ask for their help, his attitude had to be more sincere, and his form of address had to be more exalted.

After carefully composing his words, Sifa finally wrote on the Message Board again.

"Great, omniscient Watchers beyond the dimensions. I request your assistance and need your advice. I wish to know which Beyonder Pathway is more suitable for me. I hope you can respond. My deepest gratitude."

After finishing, Sifa noticed that the number on the Message Board had changed from 1 to 0.

So that number represented the number of times the Message Board could be used.

After examining it several times and deciding there was nothing wrong with it, Sifa put down the feather pen and closed the heavy tome, which was filled with an illusory feeling.

Its colors began to fade, its form turning faint as it dissipated like bluish smoke.

Then, the colors of everything in the room returned to normal. The curtains lifted by the wind fell back down, and the dust suspended in midair drifted away.

Everything returned to normal.

Except Sifa felt dizzy, as if he had spent an entire morning reading and exhausted a great deal of mental energy.

At that moment, his forehead began to sting faintly, as if someone had pricked it several times with a needle.

He hurried to a Bronze Mirror, brushed aside the loose hair over his forehead, and saw a six-pointed star fading from his brow.

Had the ritual become fixed? In the future, he would not need to draw a six-pointed star. He could simply recite the prayer and summon that mysterious tome?

Sifa lowered his hair, took out a dagger, and destroyed the magic circle on the floor so no one would notice anything.

After covering it with the carpet, he returned to the sofa and sat down.

Next, he had to consider how to protect himself. Because of the infighting, the Clover had already deviated from its original course, and it would take some time to reach Enmat Harbor.

In other words, the days ahead would all be spent aboard the ship.

If there were no supernatural factors involved, it would not be much of a problem. But thinking back to the infighting among the crew and his companion's unusual excitement last night, Sifa vaguely felt that Beyonders had been involved in this bloody incident at sea.

If that was the case, there was no guarantee that no accidents would happen during the rest of the voyage.

"Investigating Beyonders as an ordinary person is courting death, so that option is out. What I need to consider is how to ensure I can get off this ship safely."

"The bodyguard is dead, and the personal valet is dead too. I lack a Guardian at my side. If another round of infighting breaks out among the survivors, I probably won't be so lucky this time."

"So, I need to win over the survivors. The more, the better. The next question is, how do I win them over? What kind of reward must I offer to make them protect me wholeheartedly?"

"What advantages do I have? How can I use those advantages to create conditions favorable to myself?"

"Also, I need to find a way to make any Beyonder among us overlook me."

After analyzing the situation, Sifa had already formed a clear outline for his next actions.

Grrr...

His stomach growled, hunger urging Sifa to rise. He put on formal attire, picked up his cane, donned his top hat, and headed for the dining hall.

Most of the survivors in the dining hall had already gotten up, sitting in twos and threes around the room.

The moment he entered, Sifa saw Joyce, the blond, hawk-nosed young man, holding open a silver pocket watch and looking at a photograph inside.

The photograph showed a young woman wearing a veiled hat, with beautiful eyes and a warm smile.

"She's very beautiful."

Walking over to Joyce, Sifa lowered his voice and smiled.

Joyce turned around and smiled. "Thank you. You're up, Mr. Sifa."

Sifa nodded and touched the brim of his hat. "May I sit here?"

"Of course."

After Sifa sat down, Joyce said, "This is my fiancée. Her name is Anna."

"Then she must be a fortunate lady, because even while so far away, her fiancé still misses her so dearly."

But Joyce sighed. "I don't know if I'll ever see her again."

Sifa leaned back slightly. "Why do you say that?"

Joyce gave a bitter smile. "Mr. Sifa, we're murderers now. So many people died on the ship. Once we return, we'll definitely be questioned."

"If things go badly, we might even face prison. Even if I can see Anna again, it may be in Prison."

Joyce glanced at the other survivors around them. "Actually, I'm not the only one thinking this way. Everyone feels we'll be in serious trouble once we return."

Just as I thought. After all, so many people died on this ship. Once we disembark, the police will definitely be alerted, and we'll certainly have to undergo an investigation.

It was perfectly normal to worry about going to prison because of it.

Sifa cleared his throat. "If that's the problem, perhaps I can offer some help."

Joyce looked up, his eyes brightening. "Mr. Sifa, you—"

"My father is Baron Baisen Disraeli. After we get off the ship, I'll send him a telegram."

"I believe he'll come with a Lawyer. When the time comes, I can have the Lawyer defend you and me—no, everyone. If the police believe we're guilty, then—"

Sifa deliberately raised his voice slightly so that several people nearby could hear him. It immediately drew attention and sparked discussion.

Joyce said even more eagerly, "Mr. Sifa, are you really willing to do that?"

Sifa nodded gladly. "Of course. I experienced all of this. I know everyone here is innocent. As someone who has received a good education and holds proper principles, how could I stand by and watch so many innocent people suffer such an undeserved accusation?"

"So I will definitely have a Lawyer defend everyone. I will definitely make sure everyone can go home!"

Hearing those words, the grim expressions on the survivors' faces gradually faded.

"So Mr. Sifa is a noble. If he stands with us, then we can rest easy."

Words like that quietly spread through the dining hall. Sifa was very satisfied. Things were developing in the direction he had hoped.

His noble status was his advantage, and he had made his stance clear: he would stand with the survivors.

That united everyone's interests. If anything happened again, then to ensure their own interests were not harmed, he believed many people would step forward to protect him.

Just as everyone began discussing the matter, footsteps sounded. The captain in a sailor cap, Tris, the round-faced and amiable young man, and two other Sailors entered.

The captain cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Good morning, gentlemen. Sorry to interrupt your meal, but there is something I must discuss with you."

"It concerns our next course of action."

Someone stood up. He was powerfully built and covered in thick body hair. The weathered man with black hair and brown eyes said, "Captain, aren't we returning to Enmat Harbor? What is there to discuss?"

The captain made a downward gesture. "Please sit down, Mr. Brando."

Then, with his hands behind his back, he said, "That's right. According to our original itinerary, we were indeed headed for Smatt Harbor. But gentlemen, don't forget what has happened aboard our ship these past few days."

"Although those Lunatics were murderers and we delivered Justice to them, the essence of the matter is that we ourselves have become murderers as well."

"Believe me, the police in Smatt Harbor are not much smarter than Curly-Haired Baboons. I can guess that, under pressure, they will ultimately define this case as a brawl."

"If that happens, we'll all go to Prison. My idea is that, before the matter is exposed, we resupply at a nearby port and then head to Bayam, to that City of Generosity."

"We can hide there for a while. Once the heat dies down, we can find a way to return."

At once, an uproar swept through the dining hall.

Sifa shook his head and said softly, "If we do that, our suspicion will only grow stronger. Even with a Lawyer defending us, we won't be able to explain it."

Hearing that, the blond young man who was eager to return home to see his fiancée brightened and abruptly stood up.

"Everyone, please quiet down. Listen to me."

Joyce waved both hands vigorously to draw everyone's attention. Once the dining hall fell silent, he said loudly, "Captain, before you came in, we had considered a similar problem."

"We were confused and frightened. However, Mr. Sifa made a promise to everyone. He will have a Lawyer defend us, and he will make sure we can all go home!"

The captain frowned. "As for Lawyers, I know one or two myself. But I don't think the Lawyers we can reach are capable of handling such a major case."

But Joyce said with complete confidence, "Mr. Sifa is different. His father is a Baron, a noble!"

"If a Lawyer hired by a Baron defends us, what else do we have to worry about?"

The captain looked toward Sifa in surprise. "Is that true? Mr. Sifa, your father is a Baron?"