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A bizarre and kaleidoscopic scene flashed across the mirror, suddenly converging into an illusory flowing river, and one by one, transcendent and mysterious wheels emerged.
Klein, who had been staring at the mirror, frowned slightly, not knowing what Arrodes meant, until he saw silver characters appearing one by one in the illusory long river:
"The gift of destiny has long been marked with a price. Grow up quickly, Sherlock Moriarty, or should I call you Klein Moretti."
The expression on Klein's face suddenly froze. He subconsciously lowered his head and found that the Wheel of Fortune card was tightly pressed against the bottom of the mirror at some point, which was also the source of the suddenly appearing illusory long river.
The gift of destiny... Klein felt a bit of a toothache, recalling the details he had previously overlooked, such as the subsequent Beyonder Pathway of Seer, the potion formulas from Sequence 7 to Sequence 5, which he obtained with almost no effort, and Maric, who readily agreed to assassinate the ambassador at their first meeting.
"This is both a blessing and a gift from destiny..." Now Klein completely understood what Will Auceptin had said when he performed a divination for him that day.
As Klein pondered, the illusory silver long river dissipated, and pale characters reappeared with a hint of panic:
"Great Master, are you, are you alright?"
"There was a small problem just now. As compensation, you can ask another question to continue testing Arrodes."
Maintaining The Fool's dignity, Klein slowly nodded, his chaotic thoughts already reined in. Even if he had to pay a price for the gift of destiny, that would be a matter for later. What's more, he currently had no capital to resist, so it was better to accept it.
Sighing inwardly, Klein thought for a moment and continued to ask:
"Within Backlund, where can I obtain the Apothecary Pathway's Sequence 9 and Sequence 8 potion formulas?"
After experiencing the magic of potions, Klein felt that befriending or even cultivating an Apothecary would be very beneficial to him. Moreover, burdened with 5,000 pounds of debt, he was currently extremely short of money.
The Apothecary's subsequent Sequence 8 potion formula was visible pounds for Klein. Given the viscount's wealth at the gathering, selling it for 700 pounds wouldn't be excessive, would it?
As Klein thought this, the mirror glowed faintly. After a moment, a familiar face appeared: a handsome man with black hair and red eyes, quite arrogant, it was Emlyn White, whom he had met once before.
Sanguine... Klein recalled the information he had obtained at the Bravehearts Bar. The mirror rippled, perhaps Arrodes was stimulated by the previous question, this time without waiting for Klein to ask further, more detailed images appeared:
Under the crimson moonlight, the rather arrogant Sanguine, with his eyes closed, walked into a golden church in an abnormal state.
The bottom right of the image was marked with several pale characters:
South of the Bridge, Rose Street, Harvest Church.
Looking at the holy emblem of life on the church's roof with a strange gaze, and recalling the time Emlyn White went missing in the intelligence, Klein clicked his tongue inwardly:
"This guy got lost to my house in the middle of the night and then got lost to the Church of the Earth Mother's territory. His luck is truly unparalleled."
Having obtained accurate information, and considering that someone would likely come to investigate soon, Klein did not continue to ask questions. Under Arrodes's fawning farewell, he endured the twitching of his mouth and ended the ritual.
What does this mirror learn every day at the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery? Or was this guy like this before he was sealed by the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery?
Complaining powerlessly in his mind, Klein looked at the Wheel of Fortune card in front of the mirror. After hesitating, he still put it in his pocket. After sacrificing all the remaining Beyonder-related items to above the gray fog, he sat on the sofa and waited quietly.
-----------------
The bright sunlight shone on the azure sea. Anderson leaned against the edge of the deck with a hint of melancholy. Heaven knew how he had spent this period.
Heaven knows, he just said something a little out of line when he first boarded the Morning Star, subconsciously teasing a certain elf lady, and the result was a month-long "special training" for him.
For example, training a Hunter's dangerous intuition in a terrifying tornado, and tempering his physique and improving his resistance in a lightning storm....
According to a certain elf's original words, "This is the experience needed to become the strongest Hunter of the Fog Sea!" Anderson suddenly regretted how he had been so foolish as to snatch something from the Iron and Blood Cross Order back then, otherwise he would still be wandering around the Fog Sea now.
Grimacing for a while, Anderson still couldn't bring himself to slap his handsome face. He lay on the deck like a rotten salted fish, motionless.
On the wide observation deck not far away, Bayer Baile withdrew his gaze and said in a muffled voice:
"That's enough. Too much is as bad as too little. We have already sunk several Feysac fleets. The counterattack from the Einhorn family and the Church of the God of Combat will arrive soon. We should leave this sea area as soon as possible to avoid the limelight."
Her dark blue hair simply tied up, Siatas snorted lightly and nodded slightly. Before she could speak, a flash of electric arc flickered in her eyes, and she looked warily behind Bayer Baile.
The gradually intensifying colorful oil painting world opened a Door, and Aaron, holding the Devil Oil Painting, slowly walked out of the Spirit World Door.
Looking at the extremely abstract and incomprehensible patterns depicted on it, Bayer Baile and Siatas's expressions changed slightly at the same time, feeling a strong sense of danger.
Aaron looked at Siatas a few more times with his True Sight. He didn't sense the aura of Calamity Queen Cohinem. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't ask. He turned his head to look at the respectful Bayer Baile, raised the Devil Oil Painting in his hand, and said with a smile:
"This is a Grade 1 Sealed Artifact preserved by the Abraham family. It seals many crazy and distorted demigod creatures, enough to help you complete the ritual requirements for a Silver Knight."
Has the Abraham family also begun to believe in the "Lord of Order"? Sequence 3 Silver Knight?
Although Siatas entered Groselle's Travels in the Second Epoch, she still learned about the Abraham family's past glory. While surprised, she also envied Bayer Baile's advancement speed.
Helping Bayer Baile, who was about to kneel, Aaron looked at this loyal "Demon Hunter," and once again opened the Spirit World Door, "teleporting" away from the Morning Star to the vast desert where no humans lived.
This way, even if the battle fluctuations were large, he would have ample room to resolve them and not attract the attention of other forces.
"Hmm... that Undying from the Numinous Episcopate, the King of Immortality Agalito, and that Iron-Blooded Knight from the Iron and Blood Cross Order. That's already 3 demigods."
"Although the Frost Dragon in Groselle's Travels is also considered a demigod, its existence is quite special. It's a creature conjured to exist only in the book world, and its remains cannot be brought out of Groselle's Travels to complete the ritual. So, at least 3 more demigods are needed."
As rays of dawn light appeared, Aaron looked at Bayer Baile, who was ready, holding a dark red bone sword emitting an iron-blooded aura, and had activated an incomplete mythical creature form. He reined in his thoughts and unfurled the "Judgement Domain."
He did not intend to interfere too much with the battle Bayer Baile needed to experience, and merely kept the battle within the "Judgement Domain," assisting with decrees but not directly intervening.
He could analyze the rule changes brought by the collision of different divinities within the "Judgement Domain," and after Bayer Baile killed those mad demigods, he could also simultaneously receive the potion's digestion feedback. Even if this level of digestion was not as much as personally judging and hunting demigods, it was the method that maximized benefits.
Aaron inserted the Devil Oil Painting into the sand, then took out the pre-prepared herbal powder and sprinkled it onto the Devil Oil Painting.
Without any pause, he chanted the unsealing incantation in Giant, an incantation designed to release only one creature.
Silently, the scattered herbal powder all fell onto the oil painting, and with one point as the center, it quickly began to spin.
As it spun, the surface of the oil painting became illusory, as if a deep vortex was also forming.
An incomplete giant dragon covered in grayish-white scales roared as it crawled out of the vortex, its eyes filled with madness, flapping its membrane-covered wings, stirring up a sandstorm.
Highly contagious mental plague, accompanied by roars, crossed the collective subconscious sea and infiltrated the surrounding islands of consciousness.
"A runaway Sequence 4 Manipulator?"
A surging dark-gold mist appeared before his eyes, directly annihilating the mental plague that was rushing towards him. Aaron put away the Devil Oil Painting and stroked his chin, pondering.
Looking at the giant and the dragon already locked in combat, Aaron's eyes glowed fiercely with golden light, carefully observing the rule changes in the subconscious ocean within the "Judgement Domain," then solemnly declared in ancient Hermes:
"No flying here! The subconscious ocean here is isolated from the outside world!"
-----------------
Near noon, the doorbell suddenly rang, its continuous jingle echoing. Klein, who was enjoying lamb stew with tender peas, his eyes flashed.
He unhurriedly put down his knife and fork, walked to the door, paused for two seconds, and the image of the visitor outside naturally appeared in his mind.
A man in a hooded robe and black tailcoat stood at his door, wearing a golden mask that only revealed his eyes, nostrils, mouth, and cheeks, making it impossible to imagine his original appearance. Behind him was a simple and discreet carriage, obscuring the view of passersby.
The scene was a little different from what he had imagined. Klein hesitated for a moment, then still turned the doorknob, opening the door with feigned surprise and asking:
"Sir? Excuse me, who are you looking for?"
The light brown eyes behind the golden mask shifted, and the man's voice was deliberately low and hoarse, but without any other special qualities:
"Are you Detective Sherlock Moriarty?"
Although it was a question, the tone was extremely certain.
Watching the golden-masked man stride into the living room without an invitation, Klein frowned slightly. Just from their brief contact, his Clown intuition had already told him that this guy was also a Beyonder, and his Sequence level was higher than his.
Without checking the room, as if he had already anticipated that all traces would have disappeared, the golden-masked man sat down on the sofa with a grand air, looking at the silent Klein and chuckling:
"No need to be nervous. I am not from Intis. I am from MI9. Ambassador Bakerland committed suicide in the embassy last night."
Suicide? Klein's surprise was not feigned. He hadn't expected Maric's ability to be so bizarre.
Scrutinizing Klein, the golden-masked man's eyes flashed with golden light. After a moment, he continued:
"I admire you. You are decisive and ruthless, and you know how to use others to achieve your goals. The Intis people are not The Fools. If you are willing to join us, we can help you avoid subsequent retaliation."
Listening to the other party's tone, Klein's mouth twitched slightly. He secretly activated his Spirit Vision, intending to observe the other party's emotional colors to determine if he was bluffing. However, currents of electricity seemed to surge through his mind, forming thorny whips, as if constantly lashing his soul.
Forcibly controlling his body with his Clown ability to not show any abnormality, Klein exhaled lightly:
"As far as I know, MI9 is an extremely large organization. I don't think I can be of any use to you?"
At this point, Klein paused, apologized to the Goddess in his heart, and then displayed a devout expression, making the Steam Holy Emblem gesture on his chest:
"Moreover, I believe in the great God of Steam and Machinery, and I believe the Church will protect its devout followers."
"This is not a conflict, just a selection of suitable helpers," the masked man chuckled. "After all, there are some things we don't want to do ourselves."
"And you are not truly joining MI9, just as an peripheral member."
"You can consider it a commission outside of Beyonder gatherings. I will give you some tasks and pay you corresponding rewards."
"If you feel it's dangerous, you can refuse. This is a fair and free transaction. Once you've saved enough money, you can come to me to purchase materials."
Seeing that the conversation had reached this point, Klein immediately fell silent, then pondered and spoke:
"Excuse me, I'd like to go to the washroom to wash my face and give me a few minutes to consider."
Without pressing too hard, the masked man waved his hand casually, seemingly not worried at all that Klein would escape through the washroom window.
Locking the door casually, Klein turned on the faucet, using the sound of the water to mask the sound of his divination.
A moment later, Klein, with water still on his face, sat opposite the sofa and extended his right hand:
"Then, I wish us pleasant cooperation!"
"A very wise choice. The matter of Bakerland ends here. No one will bother you about this again."
The masked man nodded with satisfaction, taking out a scroll and a note from his storage. Klein cautiously took them, noted down the emergency contact address on the note, then unrolled the scroll, which contained a portrait.
The painting depicted a middle-aged man of medium build with bronze skin, black hair, and brown eyes. His features were soft, and his eyes revealed an indescribable sense of vicissitude. There was a small black mole under his right ear that was only noticeable upon close inspection.
This was painted using ritual magic, a portrait almost like a photograph, so Klein recognized almost instantly that this was none other than Mr. Azik!
As expected, Mr. Azik was still noticed by official forces like MI9 because of Qilangos… Klein's heart sank slightly. He feigned ignorance and looked at the masked man: "This is?"
"A dangerous individual. That's all you need to know. Once you find any trace, do not act on your own. Immediately contact me. Remember, absolutely do not act on your own!"
Saying this, he left 30 pounds in banknotes on the table and added in a low voice:
"This is your operating expenses for this period. Also, I don't want anyone else to know that MI9 is looking for this person, do you understand?"
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