Seeing the radio right by his feet, Sifa finally felt as if the boot hanging in midair had touched the ground.
He relaxed and looked at the old man beside him. "What are you planning to do next?"
"Me?"
Oswald had somehow produced a pipe and was taking out a box of matches, preparing to light it.
Snap.
Sifa snapped his fingers, and a fleeting spark flared from the old man's pipe.
He lit his tobacco.
Oswald let out a puff and said, "Of course I'll stay in Backlund. Other than here, I can't think of anywhere safer."
Sifa nodded slightly. "You made the right decision."
He stood up and picked up his suitcase. After thinking for a moment, he said, "However, I know of an even better place."
"Where?" Oswald exhaled a smoke ring.
"Tingen." Sifa remembered the Watchers saying that after the war broke out, Tingen was one of the few cities untouched by the flames of war.
Oswald said, "Oh," and then laughed. "I'll consider it."
Sifa shrugged, said, "Good night," and left the sitting room.
Under the bodyguards' watchful eyes, he put his long coat back on, donned his hat, picked up the radio, and left the room.
Sifa didn't hurry back. He went to the East Borough and checked into an inn.
In a somewhat chilly room, Sifa first prayed to Mr. Fool. After receiving a response,
he took some materials from the Spirit World Treasure Chest, set up an altar, and sent the radio above the gray fog.
Above the gray fog.
Klein appeared at the head of the Bronze Long Table. A sophisticated machine now appeared in his view.
It was a radio.
Klein had once seen something similar aboard the White Shark in Damir Port.
He inspected the radio and found nothing