Chapter 46

129

Click, click.

He polished the barrel, secured the copper ring, fitted the slot for the ink cartridge and the spring, screwed on the tip, and installed a plastic push button at the very end... Sitting on one of his own branches, he assembled it in silence. An ordinary-looking ballpoint pen with a transparent barrel gradually took shape in his palm.

"What are you doing?" Amon adjusted his monocle. He wore the very old-fashioned standard uniform of a Loen government typist. A vine held him upside down by the ankle in front of the Monarch of Decay, their eyes level.

"Exploring history," the Monarch of Decay answered calmly.

"History? What sort of history?"

"History from a very long time ago." Typist Amon was currently the most perceptive and well-behaved specimen in his entire Amon collection. He had more patience for individuals who were curious and less irritating, a consequence of his nature as a "guide." Thus, the Monarch of Decay explained, "History older than your birth, older than your father's unstoppable conquests across the earth. Ancient history from before Flegrea and Gregrace were even born."

Typist Amon had little interest in studying history, but that did not stop him from being curious about what had happened. "You saw all that in a pen?"

"Not just this one."

"Where did this pen come from?"

"I took it out of someone else's memories."

The Monarch of Decay raised the reconstructed pen and studied it for a moment. "...This pen was manufactured in 2019. It's a black Juice pen from the Japanese brand Pilot. The information I can retrieve is all very vague. If I actually touched this pen, I could read more."

"It was manufactured in Japan. The spring came from Russia, and the plastic for the barrel was produced in America. It was packaged in Japan, using wrapping paper printed in China and shipped to Japan for packaging. It was imported by air and placed in a stationery shop outside a high school: the second pen in the fifth box from the left on the third shelf of the imported-brand section. Its price was 7.5 yuan... The person who bought it was also a Chinese student. He took it to England and was admitted to the college Edward Vaughan attended. When 'he' woke up, that student was using this pen to do his homework."

"That is the 'history' this pen carries," he said.

Nearly all the terms were unfamiliar. Typist Amon felt as though he understood, yet also as though he understood nothing at all. He reached up to adjust his slipping monocle again and chose the question that interested him most. "I think I've heard the word Russia before. What is it? The name of a city?"

The Monarch of Decay was not surprised. "You heard it from your father, didn't you? Russia is a country. Perhaps it was his homeland."

Typist Amon fell into thought. He pondered the connection between this "more ancient history" and "homeland," then seemed to vaguely grasp something. "I've never seen this kind of pen. That ancient history wasn't passed down? Because it was destroyed? Did it have something to do with 'his' awakening?"

"That is not something you need to know."

The Monarch of Decay released his grip. The pen made from memories crumbled into nothing as it fell. "Now you will answer my questions."

"What are they?"

"Do you know a plant called the banyan tree?" the Monarch of Decay asked. "Division Angiospermae, class Dicotyledoneae, order Urticales, family Moraceae, genus Ficus. A large tree."

Typist Amon searched his memory, then spread his hands. "I've never heard of that plant. Is it an extinct Beyonder plant?"

The Monarch of Decay did not answer his question. Instead, he asked, "Then what do I look like to you?"

"..." Amon touched his monocle and eye socket again, answering in a very relaxed tone. "You-the you speaking to me-are a protrusion on an enormous tree trunk covered in fleshy growths. You look like many layers of vines stacked together, with no head and a total of one hundred and forty tendrils extending from you. You just used your tendrils and branches to assemble a pen. While you were assembling it, thirteen eyes on your trunk were watching me, twenty-eight were watching the pen, and another nine were keeping watch on the paranoid one."

The simulated personality Adam, who had remained silent within layers of restraints, abruptly looked up. He glanced at Amon, then at the Outer Deity, his brows slowly drawing together.

"You are correct."

The Monarch of Decay reached up to brush aside a lock of hair that had slipped in front of his eyes. He glanced at Adam, then turned back to Amon and said:

"I've finally confirmed it. Adam is the Ancient Sun God."

Amon narrowed his eyes. He digested this information without looking at Adam. "...Why do you say that?"

"Because I selected the concept on Earth closest to myself as the foundation for my simulation: the 'banyan tree,'" the Monarch of Decay answered. "That plant no longer exists on Earth, and anyone who doesn't know what a banyan tree is cannot correctly perceive the form I simulated."

"You see the real me. He, however, sees the humanoid form I simulated."

-The conversation above took place a hundred years ago.

130

How boring, I thought.

I could see the open manuscript, as well as the Card of Blasphemy disguised as a bookmark tucked inside it.

Because I had watched Roselle put it there.

More than a hundred years had passed, and the people of the Church of Steam and Machinery still had not discovered it. It remained confined here, unable to make its way into the world. Its situation almost contradicted Roselle's original intention of stirring up as much trouble as possible when he made it.

To be honest, this study had been reconstructed extremely well, without the slightest difference from its former appearance. The children would run along the stairs, while the servants in the study waited with lowered eyes for their master's and young masters' requests. Several adjoining cabinets on the second level held the children's drawings, and even their half-used paints had been preserved. Roselle had tried developing crayons, but they had remained limited to the court; neither the method of making them nor the practice of using them had spread beyond it. He had also tried making mobile phone models, but could not find suitable screen material. When others saw what he had made, he could only awkwardly explain that they were new-style court mirrors...

Klein probably won't come back. Bernadette's greetings are still as direct as ever... Then there's not much point staying here. I'll look elsewhere. I turned and headed to the other exhibition halls.

131

Klein quietly meditated in the washroom, waiting for his spirituality to settle. He also took the opportunity to go above the gray fog and perform a divination.

"That woman will harm me."

After he repeated it seven times, the pendulum swung counterclockwise in a wide arc, indicating that Bernadette would not hurt him. Klein breathed a sigh of relief and decided to keep a little farther away from his angelic fellow transmigrator next time. When gods fought, mortals suffered. Not just anyone could withstand a glance from a demigod. Besides, Bernadette Gustav really had only glanced at him. What if the next person was less restrained and hurled a Beyonder ability straight at him? Even if his fellow transmigrator found his conscience and protected him, surviving by sheer luck would still leave him half dead.

A few minutes later, having decided to keep some distance from Edward Vaughan, Klein left the washroom and returned to the exhibition hall he had not yet had time to explore, "The Tender Side of Roselle." Only now did he have the opportunity to properly examine the study Emperor Roselle had once lived in. To recreate the scene and enhance the atmosphere, no gas lamps had been installed here; only the chandelier provided light. Among the rows of bookshelves stood a desk, a chair, a brass lamp stand, and other furnishings, all enclosed in glass and kept from contact with the outside world.

At a glance, Klein spotted a stack of yellowed manuscript pages. The manuscript was not spread open, so only the contents of the first page were visible.

It depicted a rectangular object, accompanied by a detailed explanation: "This is a portable, miniaturized application of the telegraph. It can connect to others holding the same object, allowing them to send and receive messages they wish to exchange, or even speak directly. This requires better positioning. I believe we can boldly turn our attention to the sky, where there are no obstructions and signals can travel more effectively."

Emperor, you wouldn't even leave mobile phones alone... Klein could not help raising a hand to cover his face.

At that moment, the guide began introducing the stack of manuscripts. "...They record Emperor Roselle's extraordinary ideas, the inventions he had yet to turn into reality, and the glory of human civilization!"

Klein paid little attention to the praise and casually examined the other objects. Suddenly, he noticed a bookmark tucked inside a hardcover book on the desk. The exposed portion bore an image that looked like a child's careless scribbling.

Emperor Roselle really wasn't good at drawing... Klein had only just mocked him inwardly when he suddenly remembered something: Roselle had once disguised a Card of Blasphemy as a bookmark and tucked it into a book!

Could this be it? Klein discreetly studied it for a few seconds, but found no clues.

Roselle mentioned in his diary that he would put that Card of Blasphemy inside a very valuable book, so no one would suspect that the most valuable thing in the book was actually an inconspicuous bookmark... Hmm, which of these books is very valuable? Klein recalled the details of the diary entry and used them to eliminate possibilities.

The Glorious Era. Unlikely...

History of the Intis Kingdom. Unlikely...

Geography of the Northern Continent. Possible, but not very likely...

Principles of Steam Machinery Improvement. Same as above...

Klein scanned them one by one, then suddenly fixed his gaze on the stack of manuscripts he had seen first.

It recorded objects from Earth that Roselle had wanted to invent but lacked the means to create. A bookmark was tucked into this manuscript as well, depicting Roselle in imperial attire.

Plagiarized-no, the Creative Manuscript... This should count as a very valuable book, right? With that bookmark inside it, it really is quite likely!

He activated his Spirit Vision, found nothing unusual, and gained some confidence. Presumably, the Church of Steam and Machinery can't identify Roselle's Card of Blasphemy through Spirit Vision either. Roselle must also have used some method to convince people that he had given away all the Cards of Blasphemy... With all those possible reasons, plus more than a hundred years having passed, probably no one in the Church of Steam and Machinery still thinks one slipped through the net and is hiding right under their noses.

I'll divine it above the gray fog later to verify my analysis.

If I go to all that trouble and only steal an ordinary bookmark, I might as well lie back down in my grave!

If only I could find a chance to verify it... Who should I commission? Miss Fors? Her Apprentice pathway abilities let her pass through walls, but she's only Sequence 9. That would be too dangerous... Miss Xio? No, she's simply not suited to this. She'd be even less suitable than Miss Fors. She might get caught on the spot, exposing the fact that someone has designs on Roselle's bookmark... Miss Sharron? No. Although she's suitable, she's too powerful, and I haven't established a particularly solid relationship with her. Especially over an important item that could make even genuine companions fight and kill one another, I still can't trust her...

Klein's thoughts raced until he finally settled on a target.

In Earl Hall's luxurious villa in Empress Borough.

Audrey sat before her dressing table, planning how she would read and memorize Roselle's Diary that evening. Suddenly, her surroundings grew hazy, and boundless grayish-white fog surged forth.

At the center of that gray fog, the Fool sat high above, listening to the prayers of a man so indistinct that she could not make him out at all:

"...I pray for some assistance;"

"I pray for someone to help me touch the bookmark tucked inside Roselle's Creative Manuscript;"

How does Mr. Fool know I'm visiting the Roselle Memorial Exhibition after it closes today, and that I'll have a chance to touch some of the objects... Audrey listened in a daze. Though surprised, she did not find it strange. With Mr. Fool's standing and abilities, learning about such a trivial matter must be easy!

Then she heard the Fool speak in a low, even voice:

"You may choose to accept this commission, or decline it."

"Hmm..." Audrey considered for two seconds before saying, "Honorable Mr. Fool, I can give it a try, but I cannot guarantee success."

She was not particularly interested in a reward with a minimum of only five hundred pounds. She accepted the task because she was curious about what made the bookmark Emperor Roselle had left behind so special that Mr. Fool's believer valued it enough to offer a price with no upper limit.

I was going to look through Roselle's diary today anyway, so I can do this while I'm there... Audrey thought naturally.

Meanwhile, Klein, the Fool within the gray fog, nodded lightly and replied with a single word: "Good."

Once the illusion had completely disappeared, Audrey turned her gaze to the dressing mirror. Nervous yet eager, she began planning her evening operation. No one must notice!

TBC

*To minimize rejection as much as possible, the Monarch of Decay used the concept of the banyan tree, a plant that once existed on Earth, as the foundation for simulating a humanlike form for himself. However, only those who know what a banyan tree is can correctly perceive this form. Banyan trees have long since gone extinct, meaning that the only people on Earth who can currently see his humanoid form are survivors of the old era. Everyone else will see his true body, then lose control in madness.

*There is nothing he can do about its extinction; he had no other choice. Simply explaining the plant so that others understand it will prevent them from perceiving him incorrectly.

*The trait shared by banyan trees and the Monarch of Decay is "a single tree makes a forest."

*In this story, as well as the stories to follow, the Monarch of Decay will continue to move about in human form, with hands, feet, a face, and the appearance a human ought to have, because you readers are also survivors of the old era who know what banyan trees are. ★

*The inspiration came from Summer Abigail's character art. Her first stage looks like a Lovecraftian shrine maiden, but in the final stage, because all your SAN has run out, you see Abigail as a normal, adorable little girl, and the two indescribable beings beside her become two little cats.