"If you had only one day left to live, what would you do?"
Pain!
It hurt so much!
His head hurt so much!
It hurt just like Klein taking a bullet to the temple in the first chapter of Lord of the Mysteries!
Sunlight spilled gently through the villa's windows into a study decorated in a distinctly Loen style. The figure sitting behind the desk held a hand to his forehead, his head drenched in sweat.
A figure in a black robe stood before the desk, seemingly unsurprised by the other man's actions. He simply waited quietly for the man before him to slowly raise his head before speaking:
"We have discussed this question many times, Mr. L. Even if today were the last day of my life, I would expend my very last ounce of strength praising the glory of the Lord."
The man addressed as "Mr. L" fell silent for a moment, then nodded gently:
"...You're right. I feel the same way, Mr. Z. I heard the Lord's voice again-perhaps it won't be long before I receive His grace and join Him at His side."
A flicker of wariness and scrutiny crossed Mr. Z's eyes at those words. He quietly studied the "Mr. L" before him for a long while before slowly saying:
"Thunder or rain, all is the Lord's will. Mr. L, I need to check on the status of the Lord's Descent Plan again."
As he spoke, Mr. Z slowly turned away, addressing "Mr. L" in a voice laden with admonition and warning:
"-I hope you will not forsake the Lord's glory."
"I understand. Sorry for the trouble."
Mr. L watched Mr. Z turn and leave. Only after confirming that this mid-sequence Beyonder of the Secrets Suppliant pathway was well and truly gone, far enough away that even his Listener abilities could no longer pick up his voice, did he slowly breathe a sigh of relief:
"I finally managed to fool that fanatic!"
"Just now, I had that dream again. That dream filled with gray fog..."
"Ever since I transmigrated into this world, I've dreamed of that gray fog every time I fall asleep. Or rather, of Sefirah Castle... And it always ends with a splitting headache..."
Nimrod, the man addressed as "Mr. L," leaned back in his chair as his experiences over the past few days surfaced in his mind:
"When I transmigrated into the world of Lord of the Mysteries and realized I hadn't dropped dead from the knowledge in my head, I knew there was something off about my transmigration."
"But aren't there a few too many things off about this?"
As he spoke, Nimrod raised his head and looked toward the mirror opposite the desk. A somewhat familiar face stared back at him:
Black curly hair, black eyes, a broad forehead, and a thin face.
Reflected at the edge of the mirror was a monocle ground from crystal, resting on Nimrod's desk.
Although anyone familiar with Lord of the Mysteries could have named the original owner of that face at a glance, Nimrod still sounded astonished when he spoke of it, even after two days:
"I actually transmigrated into one of Amon's avatars..."
"And a countdown made of gray fog appeared on the back of my hand, steadily ticking away..."
"Thank goodness I didn't inherit Amon's identity, and I can't feel Amon's main body controlling this avatar. Otherwise, this really would've been a hellish start!"
Nimrod lowered his eyes and looked at the back of his hand. A countdown formed from gray fog was ticking away there, second by second.
Six days earlier, Nimrod had woken up to discover he was in the world of Lord of the Mysteries, a novel he had often read before transmigrating, and that he had taken over the body of one of Amon's avatars.
Since he had dreamed of Sefirah Castle's signature grayish-white fog while sleeping, Nimrod had spent that day trying a number of methods from the original novel to communicate with Sefirah Castle. All had ended in failure, leaving only the countdown on the back of his hand steadily decreasing.
[9:17:12] [9:17:11] [9:17:10]
Time slipped away, second by second. Now, in less than half a day, the gray-fog countdown on the back of his hand would reach zero.
Nimrod didn't know what would happen when the countdown reached zero. Returning to his own world would be the best possible outcome, but he understood that was probably unlikely.
"Although the best outcome I can imagine is going straight back to the real world when the countdown reaches zero... Heh. Deep down, I've known the answer for a while. I just don't dare believe it yet."
"So I still need to play the role of 'Mr. L' properly, in case something I can't control or predict happens after the countdown ends, and the True Creator's fanatics decide I'm a blasphemer and kill me on the spot..."
"But in a way, my current identity also offers certain advantages. So no matter what happens when the countdown on my hand reaches zero, I can't just sit around waiting to die!"
As he spoke, he suddenly rose to his feet, his reflection in the mirror turning grave:
"...What's that sound?"
Nimrod felt a faint ringing in his ears, as though a voice were slowly emerging beside them. It grew louder and louder until, at last, the words became clear:
"...God Almighty of Heaven and Earth for Blessings, Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings."
Nimrod's pupils contracted slightly. As the voice rang in his ears, crimson light slowly began to fill his vision, followed by the endless gray fog he had seen in his dreams!
The fog of Sefirah Castle!
Before the gray fog could completely engulf his vision, he forced his arm to move, deftly pulling a pocket watch from his clothes and snapping it open:
The hands of the pocket watch pointed unmistakably to three o'clock.
"Three o'clock. That's when the Tarot Club meets... So the reason all my attempts at performing the ritual to enter Sefirah Castle have failed is that Sefirah Castle already has an owner?"
"So when Klein held this Tarot Club meeting, I got pulled up here without him realizing it?"
"I don't remember too clearly. Has Klein not become a Beyonder yet, or did he just become one? Alger's probably only Sequence 7, too... Does that make me the highest-sequence Beyonder in the Tarot Club right now?"
"But the body I've taken over is Amon's avatar. Could this let Amon detect the Tarot Club and then catch all the future Major Arcana in one fell swoop?"
At this point, Nimrod had no way to guard against those risks. The fact remained that he had seized one of Amon's avatars and become entangled with Sefirah Castle.
Still, Nimrod believed that even if Amon knew He had lost an avatar, He wouldn't be able to find him for the time being.
After all, as the Uniqueness come to life, Amon would never let someone tainted with the gray fog slip away. And since He hasn't knocked on my door yet, either He can't find me, or He has no idea I exist.
With Sefirah Castle's power providing concealment, the latter was far more likely than the former!
These thoughts flashed through Nimrod's mind. The next moment, gray fog and crimson starlight filled his eyes, making his heart beat a little faster with excitement.
He was even starting to look forward to Klein's expression when he discovered he had "accidentally" pulled up one extra person.
As the gray fog before his eyes dispersed, Nimrod's surroundings became indistinct, as though a stubborn layer of mist shrouded him.
The moment he entered Sefirah Castle, he eagerly turned his eyes to survey his surroundings.
-However, he didn't see Mr. Fool's stone table.
All he saw were light cocoons that seemed woven from nearly transparent light, suspended silently around him by thin black threads.
He looked up and gazed ahead. Far in the distance, beneath the gray fog, a long table that seemed to have existed since ancient times appeared in a hazy outline. Beside it, three equally indistinct figures emerged in a bloom of crimson light.
It was the Tarot Club.
But it was a little far away.
Nimrod: "..."
Unable to hold back, he blurted out:
"So?"
"Where the hell did this thing send me? Is this still Sefirah Castle?"
"You're holding a Tarot Club meeting without me?"
Before you continue