Deep winter had settled over Gram Gasland, and the trees beside the fountain had shed every last leaf.
Gypsy sat on a blackwood bench, turning his divination disk in both hands. He watched the dingy fountain spout salt water and thought about death.
Afternoons in the City of Pleasure belonged to the prostitutes.
But once six o'clock came and the sun went down, they would vanish like ghosts, and the circuses and magicians would leap out, dancing and gesticulating.
The prime hours of the night belonged to the artisans.
Gypsy was one of them. His craft was the Hit-or-Miss Divination he had learned from his master.
As everyone knew, divination was either one hundred percent accurate or one hundred percent inaccurate. Being hit-or-miss was no different from not working at all.
That was why he had not done well for himself in Gram Gasland.
After running into walls for so many years, Gypsy had long since despaired of the world and wanted to die.
But one obsession remained in his heart. Until he resolved it, he would never be willing to die.
That obsession was to perform a divination for a true One Favored by Fate. If he could fulfill that obsession before his death, he could die content.
But such people were exceedingly rare. Having spent half his life searching without finding a single lead, Gypsy had already been ready to give up hope.
Yet today, he seemed to have seen that person favored by fate-
Several hours earlier.
Dio found a Signal Station and began trying to call Cheadle.
The phone beeped away as the two of them waited in boredom.
"Who are you calling?"
Bokushin asked curiously. Weren't they supposed to be looking for the exam site now? Why were they standing around here waiting?
Out of