Chapter 33

104

In the unlit sewers, a group of figures finally found the site of Lanevus's death. Some wore thick black trench coats, while others were dressed in stylish, well-tailored uniforms resembling military attire.

Leading them was Crestet Cesimir, carrying a pure white bone sword. His red gloves were stained with dust, and his resolute face showed clear signs of exhaustion and weakness. They stopped several meters from the corpse, using their night vision to see Lanevus's body and the head beside the wall.

Two tarot cards were embedded in the head: the Emperor and the Wheel of Fortune. More cards covered the headless corpse, depicting a chariot driven by a victor, a robed hermit carrying a lantern, Death in armor riding a white horse, and various numbered cards from the suits of Cups and Wands.

Tarot cards such as the Devil, the Sun, and Judgment were also embedded in the surrounding walls or scattered across the ground.

It all looked like the scene of some bizarre ritual, with Lanevus as the offering destined to be sacrificed.

Crestet Cesimir drew a silent breath, his brows knitting tightly. The Beyonders around him were briefly stunned by the terrifying yet mysterious scene in the darkness.

Two o'clock slipped quietly past, and the joy of successfully meeting a fellow countryman gradually gave way to the exhaustion and drowsiness left by the fierce battle. After they chatted a little more, as casually as if catching up over family matters, Klein remembered the strange badge he had taken from Lanevus. Figuring he had nothing to lose by asking, he took the eyeball-sized badge bearing a symbol of concealment from his pocket, held it out on his palm, and asked curiously, "Do you know what this is? I happened to come across it."

Happened to come across it? Edward picked up the badge and turned it halfway around, revealing a ring of Ancient Hermes on the back: "Possession of this grants admission."

"I do know what this is, though this is my first time seeing one in person." It was of no use to him, so Edward returned it to Klein and patiently explained, "It belongs to a secret organization, a self-help association formed specifically to escape Amon. They rarely succeed, though."

Escape Amon? What is Amon? A self-help association? Klein grew even more curious. "Could you tell me more?"

"You can think of Amon as a harmful substance that often appears around you without a sound-and in whole swarms, at that." Recalling some unpleasant memories, Edward clicked his tongue. "He specializes in senseless pranks and theft. He steals everything, from something as small as luck to something as great as fate. The more you fear him and try to escape him, the more enthusiastic Amon becomes. This badge represents the Hermits of Fate, whose members are all poor souls hiding from Amon out of fear. What's even more pitiful is that all their efforts can't help them escape their destined fate, and Amon thoroughly enjoys this hunting game."

Lanevus was indeed a Marauder. So by "happened to come across it," he meant he had just stripped it off Lanevus's corpse?

His soul tasted pretty good, too.

Looking back, he had encountered Amon quite a few times over the past fourteen hundred years. The Amon specimens in his possession, arranged from small to large, already made up a complete set of Marauder potions from Sequence 9 to Sequence 4. Still, picking a fight with the Marauder King of Angels now was clearly unwise, so he had carefully cleaned up the surrounding area every time, leaving no mystical traces behind.

Why does that description sound so... bitter? Has my angelic senior suffered at Amon's hands too? No, no, wait. What did he just say? He used the divine "He" for Amon too? Klein blurted out, "Amon is an angel?"

"Yes, he's the King of Angels of the Marauder pathway." The angel present admitted it readily. Seeing Klein's bewildered expression, he considerately added, "A King of Angels is a special existence among the Sequence Ones of a pathway, possessing either the Uniqueness or two or more Sequence One characteristics."

Wait, wait, wait. We're already done with the Hermits of Fate? I haven't even understood the King of Angels part yet! What's a Uniqueness? And why would anyone accommodate two or more Sequence One characteristics? Nobody said you had to drink extra potions at the other Sequences when advancing! Slow down, senior, I don't understand! This is mystical knowledge so precious that money can't buy it!

Klein desperately committed those words to memory, his emotions mixed but happy. Just hearing this is a gain. Before, all I could do was envy Roselle and get free mystical knowledge from reading his diary. Now I can get supplies from my fellow countryman and senior too!

"Speaking of which," Edward changed the subject, "you're a Seer. Your pathway is adjacent to Amon's, so be careful when you reach the high Sequences."

High Sequences? My ambitions don't stretch that far yet. Klein nodded while silently grumbling. Still, after learning about Savant and Mystery Pryer, he had now learned his own adjacent pathway as well. That was already an unexpected bonus.

"You didn't ask me what adjacent pathways are... You're only Sequence 8, but you know quite a lot about mysticism."

Edward looked thoughtful. "Did you find that in Roselle's diary too? It seems I should collect his diary entries as well. They're scattered and fragmentary, and quite a few touch on secrets that the Churches have suppressed, forbidding their circulation in any form. I've been looking for him for a long time, but I can't find him anywhere. Perhaps his diary really does contain some clues."

An inexplicable melancholy settled over Klein. There were indeed quite a few cults that believed Roselle was still alive, or had even become a hidden god, and secretly worshipped him while spreading those beliefs... Could my angelic countryman be one of them? If possible, he would have loved to have a proper conversation with him about Roselle, but it was too late now, and Klein could barely keep his eyes open. "I hope you find what you're looking for soon. It's getting very late, and I think I should head back. How can I contact you in the future?"

"If you want to find me, come to 5 King Street in Cherwood Borough. That's where I live. As long as I'm in Backlund, I generally stay there," Edward said. "It was a pleasure talking to you. Goodbye."

105

Whooo-

With a long whistle and the rhythmic clatter of rods and wheels, the steam train traveling through the night slowly rolled along the tracks into the dim station. Yawning station workers directed it in, and the doors of several carriages opened one after another, letting cold air rush into the warm interiors. The travelers who had been startled awake opened their eyes to glance at the platform. Seeing that it was not their destination, they mumbled and curled up again to doze. Those who had reached their stop got off one by one. Everything was quiet and orderly.

A young man with short, dark gray hair stepped out of a carriage, his breath turning white in the late-autumn predawn air. He carried a suitcase in each hand. One was a brown suitcase so old that its leather had worn through; the other was a fashionable new model, with fresh leather tightly wrapping its corners to protect them from bumps.

A small rag doll also hung from its handle, a cheerful smile embroidered on its rosy face.

A girl with golden-brown hair followed the young man off the train. Wearing a new dress made by letting out old clothes, she looked around curiously.

"Alia, this is Backlund. I'm sorry to put you through traveling on such a cold night. Make sure you have your scarf and coat on properly."

"No, it's all right. Thank you for bringing me here. Night tickets are thirty percent cheaper. I'd have made the same choice if I were traveling alone."

Richard waited until the girl reached his side, then they walked briskly toward the exit together. He smiled and said, "Congratulations. Not only did you get into Backlund University, but your outstanding results earned you a year's tuition waiver. You can try for a scholarship and save up for your tuition afterward. Of course, Backlund University gathers outstanding students from all over the country, so you needn't push yourself too hard. The tuition isn't exorbitant. We can support you until you finish your studies."

"No, I'm already an adult. I can earn a living with my own abilities and knowledge!"

The thin, small girl immediately refused. She looked only fifteen or sixteen, but qualifying for university through the regular admissions process proved that she was already eighteen. Years of malnutrition and punishingly hard study had nearly ruined her health. Alia replied, "I can work while studying. There's no need for you and everyone else to keep spending money on me, Mr. Richard!"

"All right. Then I'll leave you a letter of recommendation. If you need a job later, go to the East Borough and find Maria. She's one of our comrades." Seeing that Alia was about to refuse again, Richard blinked and spoke before she could. "Maria is very strict. She won't let you slack off. Besides, you still have to study. If you need part-time work, she'll be able to arrange a position for you quickest."

Alia tilted her head up to look at Richard, seemingly wanting to say something. After a while, however, she deflated and obediently accepted the arrangement. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. The steam train was delayed by an hour. I'll take you to Backlund University to register tomorrow afternoon. First, though, we need to find somewhere to stay tonight..." Richard looked around. No inns remained open along either side of the chilly, deserted street. Something unexpected had happened: the inn he had booked near the East Borough had suddenly closed early that afternoon and canceled his reservation with a refund. Few inns stayed open all night. At this rate, the patrolling police officers would soon catch them. Would they have to spend the night at the police station?

Just as he was at a loss, he suddenly spotted an owl perched in a roadside tree, sleeping with its eyes closed.

This bird...

Richard pulled Alia behind him and tentatively called to the dozing owl in a low voice, "Teacher?"

Without opening its eyes, the owl rotated its head a hundred and eighty degrees, presenting him with the fluffy back of its head.

106

After saying goodbye to his fellow countryman, Klein left quickly, hurrying toward the East Borough through the shadows of the gas streetlights.

Only after entering the East Borough and reaching Black Palm Street did he relax a little. Then, in the one-bedroom dwelling he rented, he quickly performed the ritual of summoning himself and answering his own summons. In his spirit body, Klein moved the complete outfit he had worn that night, his remaining charms, herbs, essential oils, and the badge taken from Lanevus above the gray fog, then burned away the corresponding traces with spiritual flames.

He was in no hurry to return to Minsk Street, intending to sleep until morning before leaving. With the commotion that night, acting rashly could easily draw scrutiny.

Finally lying in bed, Klein gazed at the night outside the window, where the moonlight had dimmed, and gradually grew calm. After taking the first step in his revenge, he felt as though he had shed a tremendous burden and cast off much of his pent-up distress. Compared with the preceding days, his mental state was noticeably better.

Ince Zangwill, Sealed Artifact 0-08, and that enormous, terrifying shadow that appeared in Tingen are all beyond what I can handle right now. The gap between us is far too great. Only by becoming a high-Sequence Beyonder, a demigod, will I be qualified to get involved in this... Until I advance to Sequence 4, I'll pretend they don't exist...

For a long time to come, my goal will be to work hard at improving myself. I've already completely digested the Clown potion. Once I gather the Beyonder ingredients, I can advance to Magician. After that come Faceless, Marionettist, and the corresponding Sequence 4 whose name I still don't know.

Apart from that, I'll be an ordinary detective.

With a peaceful heart, Klein let his thoughts wander over his plans for the days ahead, no longer so impatient or so weighed down.

As he thought, the corners of his mouth curved slightly upward, and he silently murmured to himself:

Captain, Benson, Melissa, you'd probably prefer seeing me like this, wouldn't you...

TBC

Oh, right, I don't know if anyone noticed, but the famous line "The taste of a Demoness isn't bad" actually comes on the following day in the timeline-it was only just seen at the Tarot Club meeting. I moved it up for the meme! Hehe!