A Chance Encounter

After storing the Witch's Kiss gloves and Ghost Shark blood in his room at the inn, Aster went out for another stroll. He needed to make a circuit around Tingen City and determine the locations of several landmarks. After all, the game's models differed somewhat from real buildings. He also did not waste this time walking around, considering how to report Townsend Neil's worship of an evil god in a reasonable manner without being discovered.

I need to time it right—not too early, not too late. If it's too early, the Nighthawks might abandon the matter due to insufficient evidence. If it's too late, things may worsen beyond recovery. After all, I'm not reporting him to save him. I'm doing it to preserve the official Beyonders' strength, so they can more safely face the threat Megose poses... Aster had given his formal attire to the inn's laundress to be cleaned. At the moment, he simply wore a long coat over a white shirt.

Townsend Neil's loss of control and mutation had directly caused the deaths of two Nighthawks. Together with several Beyonder incidents that would follow, the Nighthawks' strength had been severely weakened. By the end of the 1.0 storyline, only one Nighthawk remained who could help the protagonist, and the players had practically handled Megose independently. Even so, Megose had caused the deaths of numerous official Beyonders—the Tingen City Nighthawks team had only one survivor left. The severity of the tragedy was obvious.

The tragedy in Tingen City was merely the beginning. In the future, there would be even more occult disasters sweeping across wider areas—until the Apocalypse of 1368.

Aster did not consider himself a good person, nor had he ever wanted to become a hero. His sole motivation for trying to stop disasters and save lives was his desire to survive. He did not want to die, at least not as helplessly as the weak civilians in the game... falling like harvested crops. That was an ending he could never accept.

Even if I die, I will die on the path to godhood!

The silver in Aster's eyes dimmed slightly. He looked up, only then realizing that he had somehow arrived before a tavern.

Taverns in this world were somewhat like bars in his previous life. Most did not open during the day, only opening their doors in the afternoon, with business peaking at night. Evil Dragon Bar was an exception. Its true purpose was to conceal that Beyonder item trading market, so it opened earlier than ordinary taverns.

Aster swallowed and licked his slightly dry lips, wondering whether to go in and buy himself a drink. Just then, he saw a young man push open the door and walk out.

The young man looked to be only in his early twenties. He had black hair, brown eyes, and a faint scholarly air that made him appear quite refined.

"Mercenary squads still exist. They've merely changed form and adopted a name more suitable for modern society. You can find one on the second floor of No. 36 Zouteland Street."

"Thank you." Klein sincerely expressed his gratitude before turning and squeezing out of the bar.

The moment he pushed open the tavern door, he saw a lean, long-haired man standing outside, seemingly about to enter. Klein quickly stepped aside to make way for him.

However, the man did not react. He merely gazed quietly at Klein. Somewhat puzzled, Klein met his eyes and only then noticed the man's strange silver eyes, his unhealthily pale complexion, and the cold, profound aura surrounding him.

"Sir, do you believe in fate?" Just as Klein was about to brush past him, the strange man suddenly spoke. His voice was low, carrying a gentle and tranquil quality. "There are strange remnants of fate upon you."

This... Can he see that I died once?! Has he discovered the connection between me and the Antigonus Notebook?! Did he figure out that I'm a transmigrator?! Klein's body stiffened at once, and an icy chill crept up his back. However, he reacted quickly, frowning as he replied, "I'm in good health. I don't need paid divination or luck-changing services!"

With that, he hurried toward Zouteland Street, not daring to turn around and look behind him.

After he had walked several meters, the long-haired man's voice rang out again, as clearly as if it were right beside Klein's ear. "That is your fate. You cannot escape it."

"We will meet again." The instant those words fell, the startled Klein spun around to look behind him. Yet there was already no one there. The silver-eyed man had vanished without a trace.

"...What a strange person... Should I tell Mr. Smith about this?... He seemed able to see the anomaly on me. That's terrifying... Maybe he's a Beyonder too?" Letting out a long breath, Klein jogged toward the second floor of No. 36 Zouteland Street in lingering fear.

Showing off and then running away—damn, that was thrilling... Good thing my door closed silently, or I would've been discovered... Inside the Hound Pub on Iron Cross Street, Aster took a deep breath and sent the spirit he had used to deliver the message off to play somewhere else.

It was not because he had been seized by some perverse urge to act mysterious before an ordinary person. He had done it in order to establish a connection with the Nighthawks.

That young man just now had been named Klein Moretti. In the game, he was a Nighthawks member, a Sequence 8 Clown of the Seer Pathway. Becoming a familiar face to him held significant meaning for Aster's plans.

Because he was the only Nighthawk Aster could come into contact with while he was still an ordinary person!

Right now, Klein was probably just an ordinary person, not even Sequence 9. If Aster's guess was correct, today was the day Klein Moretti officially joined the Nighthawks, and he would rapidly advance through Sequence 9 Seer and Sequence 8 Clown—

Then die amid the chaos caused by Megose's descent.

Aster had grown used to seeing Klein's memorial portrait in the game. Now that he had seen a living, breathing Klein standing before him, he felt somewhat unaccustomed to it.

And there had also been that elderly Townsend Neil earlier...

Everyone was still alive. None of the disasters had happened yet.

The world could become better, through his own hands.

Leaning against the wall of the Hound Pub, Aster slowly closed his eyes.

Time passed quickly, and in the blink of an eye, Monday arrived. During these past few days, Aster had not been idle. He had wandered through several important mission locations in Tingen City and conducted on-site investigations. As for some of his plans concerning Lanevus and Neil, many methods were difficult to put into practice before he advanced to Sequence 7, so he could only set them aside for now.

Still, there had been some gains... Near three in the afternoon, Aster sat upright at his desk, staring at the bottle of Ghost Shark blood before him and the Witch's Kiss beside it. The gloves' originally pure white color had turned dark red after absorbing Aster's spirituality for a long time.

Once it turned completely black, it would mean that enough spirituality had been stored and the plan could officially begin... As Aster considered his next steps and his objectives at the Tarot Club, he saw the clock on the wall point to exactly three o'clock. Deep crimson surged out around him, enveloping his entire body.

Above the Gray Fog, within a grand palace resembling the residence of the Giant King.

Deep crimson blossomed on either side of the bronze table, surging upward like fountains before drifting down in scattered motes, outlining three indistinct figures. They remained in the positions chosen during their previous gathering. Justice and Hanged Man sat to the Fool's left and right respectively, while the black-clad Lovers sat directly opposite the Fool.

Audrey, with her smooth blond hair and tall figure, instinctively looked toward the head of the table. Within the dense Gray Fog, the figure seated there leaned back, one hand resting flat against the edge of the table while the other was loosely clenched beneath his chin.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Fool~!" Audrey called brightly.

Then she turned toward the other two members of the gathering and greeted them in the same tone.

"Fool" Klein smiled, maintaining his unfathomable image as he said, "Good afternoon, Miss Justice."

As he spoke, Klein silently activated his Spirit Vision and took in the figures of the three people before him. In that instant, he saw faint spiritual light emanating from each of them.

His gaze shifted slightly. Klein's eyes lingered on Justice for several seconds before turning toward Hanged Man. A very normal aura... Hanged Man's is the same. One is joyful, one is calm, and Lovers is similar as well, though more inclined toward thoughtfulness. No, there's also a bit of anticipation... Is he anticipating the Beyonder materials he will receive from Hanged Man?

Observing auras here clearly held little practical significance. Just as he was about to look away, he suddenly noticed something strange.

The innermost layer of Hanged Man's aura seemed entirely unified in color and sensation. Deep within his Ether Body was a deep blue like seawater, evoking violent winds and rolling waves.

Klein focused and looked toward Lovers at the end of the bronze table again, discovering that the interior of his Ether Body displayed a similar sensation. However, it was a pale color tinged with gloomy green, as though one were gazing upon death and silence.

The Astral Body? Or rather, the surface of the Astral Body? From this, both Hanged Man and Lovers are Beyonders... Perhaps this is some special trait only Beyonders display? No, it might also be due to my special authority above the Gray Fog... Klein's thoughts churned, but he did not reveal any of them.

He calmly raised a hand, signaling that the trade could begin.

"Miss Justice, I have received the money you transferred to me. As payment, I will give you the Sequence 9 Spectator potion formula." Aster spoke first. Over the past few days, he had gone to the bank to confirm the payment and withdrawn all of it.

With a lift of his hand, he was about to manifest paper and pen directly as he had in the game, copy down the formula, and hand it to Spectator. At the last moment, however, he remembered the Fool and successfully stopped himself.

That was close... If Aster hadn't been in spirit form right now, he would definitely have been drenched in cold sweat.

The technique of directly manifesting objects above the Gray Fog had been taught in the game by Mr. Fool, the ruler of this space. If he displayed his skilled command over the power of this place in advance, Aster did not dare imagine what the Fool would think of him.