Cherreads

Chapter 8 - 8

Chapter 34 VisitorsTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 4241 wordsUpdate time: 2022-09-27 15:30:06

When Antigonus was halfway through flipping through the notebook that belonged to Bethel Abraham, a light door appeared in the middle of the room. After the layers of blue light faded, he saw the Mystic of the Fool's family returning with a blonde girl and a handsome man.

The girl raised her skirt to greet Antigonus in the manner of aristocrats, her gesture respectful but calm. In contrast, the gesture of the man passing by in the dark revealed a sense of unfamiliarity and laziness.

"He" closed his notebook and nodded slightly in response. He glanced at the two newcomers without saying a word, waiting for Fors' explanation.

"Your Highness," after being "pacified" by the audience in advance, Fors was able to suppress her urge to open the door and run away in front of the angel passing by. She kept a social smile on her face and introduced, "These two are members of Mr. Fool's Council of Gods, Miss Justice and Mr. Star."

Not even at the level of an angel... This surprised Antigonus. Even if he had been relying on the support of Amanesis and had only recently become a god, The Fool wouldn't be so short of manpower that he could only send saints to deal with the foreign angels, right? You have to know that at this level, the number of people is already difficult to make up for the gap in strength between high and low sequences. If "He" wants to harm Fors Wall and the Abraham family today, it will be useless to send a few more saints.

Or was it that the person who passed through in the dark night was a follower of Amanisis, and the goddess had already informed him of this? Antigonus couldn't understand, so he chose to remain silent. He had not yet figured out the relationship between the gods of the Fifth Epoch, and he was unwilling to make unnecessary guesses, so he continued to wait patiently. The advantage of having a sufficient sequence and status is that you don't have to speak, there will always be someone to explain everything to you.

So this time Leonard stood up, gave another awkward salute, and spoke in an old voice that didn't match his face: "Long time no see, Your Highness Antigonus. I really miss the time when I worked with you."

Hearing this voice, Antigonus' expression relaxed slightly, and his deep eyes stared at Leonard, a man with black hair and blue eyes, and looked him over carefully.

Although Leonard knew that the one being baptized by the gaze was not him but the old man who was temporarily deeply parasitic, he still felt a sense of horror and subconsciously tried to tense his body. His spirit also began to be agitated due to the mental pressure. Fortunately, Audrey, who had already boarded his spiritual island, used her ability to comfort him in time, avoiding any unnecessary damage to Leonard from facing the gaze of the angel.

"The 'thief' angels other than Amon..." Antigonus didn't pay attention to their actions, and spoke in a gentle tone as if he was talking to himself, "Pallez Zoroast? Are you serving the 'Night' or the 'Fool' now?"

"I am now the angel under the seat of the Fool." Pales laughed. He did not have a close relationship with the son of the ancient god in the Fourth Epoch, but as a neighboring sequence, they could not have a close relationship, but they could not have no understanding of each other. Although he had exposed his weakness to some extent by meeting Antigonus with Leonard's body, facing the high-ranking person of the secret path who was known for his suspicion and caution, a certain frankness would be beneficial to the subsequent exchange of information, and using Leonard's identity to reveal the fact that the Goddess of Night and the "Fool" had a close relationship was a subtle deterrent.

The Demon Wolf had long guessed about Pales's status. With Amon around, there would be no high-sequence "thieves" who were living comfortably. It was already good enough to have Pales who could sympathize with him.

However, although they were old acquaintances, the two angels had a tacit understanding of understanding the difference between friend and foe before reminiscing about the past. Facing Pales's question, Antigonus had no intention of hiding anything and frankly stated his purpose: "I have reached a tacit understanding with Ah... with 'Night'. I need a reasonable identity to stay in Backlund for a long time, so He instructed me to follow the newly promoted 'Fool'."

The three members of the Tarot Club who were trying to serve as the background for this conversation were secretly surprised by the angel's idea. According to the agreement between the church and the royal family that Leonard "The Star" had popularized, neither side was allowed to station angel-level members in Backlund for a long time. If the Church of Fools wanted to obtain the right to preach in Backlund, it would definitely need to abide by these agreements.

Pales obviously also knew about the tacit understanding between the gods and the royal families of various countries since the Fifth Epoch. He sighed and said, "I see... But since you also know that The Fool is a new god, the church is relatively weak and is currently only distributed near the Rossde Islands in the sea. Even if you join The Fool, it will not be easy to wait for an opportunity to enter Backlund."

"It is enough to have such an opportunity." Antigonus responded with a calmness that ordinary people could hardly understand. "I have long been accustomed to waiting, and I have waited for too long."

They are all mythical creatures who have lived for thousands of years, and they know what they want to do. Pales did not give any extra persuasion, and turned to more practical issues: "Then, I will inform the 'Fool' for you. However, since he is sleeping, the response may be delayed, and you can also pray to him more. What are your plans after this? Do you want to stay in the Abraham family?"

Hearing this question, Fors immediately closed her eyes and prayed devoutly to Mr. Fool, praying that he must not stay! An angel who passed by stayed beside her. She felt that sooner or later she would die young due to heart disease, high blood pressure, or other problems. She had to write a will and carry it with her for the afterlife.

Fortunately, Antigonus' answer did not disappoint Miss Magician. The magic wolf looked at the large map posted on the wall of the study, his eyes wandering over those familiar or unfamiliar place names: "No need, I want to travel around, and I will visit the Church of the Fool one day."

"Okay." Pales was not surprised. No one would rush to sell their freedom after waking up from sleeping for more than a thousand years. As long as Antigonus did not conflict with other churches while wandering around, it would be fine. He gestured to Audrey and Fors, indicating that the following conversation would contain content that they should not know and needed to avoid.

After the two bowed and left, Pales informed Leonard, who was borrowing his body, and stole the sight and hearing of the red gloves. Then he looked up and saw that Antigonus, who was not present, had walked around the desk and sat down on the high-backed chair that had always belonged to the head of the Abraham family. He stroked the armrest of the chair with a sense of novelty and sighed, "I didn't expect the Abraham family to decline to this extent."

The face that was both youthful and old seemed to show a very human feeling of nostalgia, but this weak emotion was fleeting and quickly hidden. The demon wolf looked at Pales, who was sitting opposite him in the skin of a young man, and snapped his fingers, causing two cups of strong tea to appear on the table. "Then please tell me about the current situation of the gods."

-

"So why are the other churches and MI9 here?"

"After all, this case is quite different from previous cases related to the Blood Cult. The Dark Side of the Universe is considered a very low-key evil god. There are almost no signs of activity since the Fifth Epoch. There are many cases of Blood Cult and Demons using wild Beyonders to commit serial murders in order to advance, but there are very few cases where crimes are committed directly based on inspiration from the Dark Side of the Universe."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. This may mean that the state of the 'dark side of the universe' has changed compared to before. It may interfere with reality through believers more frequently and create more bloodshed. That's why we need to notify all major churches to be more vigilant against such phenomena and promptly investigate and verify whether there are extraordinary factors behind similar cases to prevent more victims."

"What are the people from MI9 doing here? Aren't these matters the responsibility of the church?"

"Well..."

Before Anthony could answer the last question, the door of the conference room suddenly opened. Father Schultz saw Douglas whispering with the young vampire at a glance, and raised his voice to call him: "Douglas, come here."

"Hmm?" Douglas, who was called abruptly, quickly put down the half-eaten bread in his hand. Thanks to the overtime work in the morning, he had a late lunch today. While wiping the crumbs from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, he walked to Father Schultz and waited for instructions.

Father Schultz patted him on the shoulder and motioned for him to follow him into the conference room. Before Douglas could ask anything, he was dragged into the room by the powerful priest. He staggered a few steps and looked up at the conference room with confusion.

As a result, the "Night Watchers" of the Church of Night who were sitting in the room, the "Mandated Punisher" of the Church of Storms who were wearing blue and white sailor uniforms, the "Mechanical Heart" of the Church of Steam who was wearing glasses and had a mechanical triangle engraved on the pocket watch case, and the members of MI9 who were wearing dark uniforms cut like military uniforms were all looking at him.

...No, what are you doing? Everyone is staring at you when you enter the room. What kind of social phobia hell is this? Douglas remained in a stiff position for two seconds, almost falling, before slowly standing up and trying to hide behind Father Schultz.

Unfortunately, the priest didn't understand what he meant, and held him down with one hand. Douglas complained in his mind for a long time, "Father Schultz looks like he could be my grandfather, but how could he be so strong?" Then he remembered that the priest was a Sequence 6 of the "Tiller" pathway. At the same time, he introduced to the others in the room, "This person is the first discoverer of this case."

Then he turned to Douglas, who was expressionless and frightened by the sudden public speaking task, and said in a more relaxed tone: "Don't be nervous. There are still some questions that need to be answered about how you discovered this case."

"..." Douglas, who was so nervous that he was speechless, suddenly felt a little doubtful when he heard this.

This series of hidden cases was discovered because Douglas encountered a missing person commission when he participated in an underground gathering two weeks ago. The client claimed that his family was missing, provided some information to all the participants of the gathering, and emphasized that this was an extraordinary incident, hoping to hire a capable helper.

Given the official attitude towards wild extraordinary people, it is normal for wild extraordinary people to seek solutions in underground gatherings when encountering similar things. However, the client did not know that there was an official undercover in the gathering. Douglas reported the extraordinary case involving human lives to the church for verification as soon as he heard about it. This suspected "demon" murder case involving four victims came into the official's field of vision.

Afterwards, Douglas, in accordance with the church's instructions, contacted the client again through underground gatherings, pretended to take the task and exchanged limited intelligence with the other party. Only then did he finally lock on to an Andrellad member, found the lair of the "devils", and carried out a raid last night.

Douglas wrote all the details of the case in a report and submitted it to the church for approval. The church was aware of the whole process, so why would it still have doubts? Where were the doubts?

Anyway, let me eliminate my own suspicion first... Douglas quickly went over the past two weeks' work in his mind to make sure he hadn't done anything wrong.

At this time, a member of MI9 in dark uniform stood up from his seat, walked up to Douglas and looked him in the face. The gentleman was young and wore a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, but his physique and posture did not look like an intellectual, but more like a soldier, with a sharp gaze that made people feel uncomfortable.

Douglas, who was originally very confident in his work, thought about it again with some uncertainty under such scrutinizing eyes. I really didn't do anything wrong... He muttered to himself, barely maintaining a calm expression, and took the initiative to ask: "Which parts do you have questions about? I will try my best to explain it to you."

"The client who issued the commission and provided the intelligence," the MI9 member took out a portrait from his jacket pocket and unfolded it, asking in a calm but unquestionable tone, "Is it the person in the portrait?"

Douglas looked at it carefully. The man in the picture was about 40 years old, with a haggard face, loose skin, messy brown short hair, and a gloomy expression. The portrait was extremely detailed, very much like the kind drawn by the power of gods during a spiritual ceremony, so Douglas nodded very confidently: "It's him, his code name in the underground gathering is 'Nighthawk'."

Although participants in the underground gatherings covered their faces, the client did not cover his face during the two private meetings, so Douglas was deeply impressed by his face.

"When was the last time you met him? Did you agree on a time to meet again?"

"The last meeting was on April 2, last Thursday. The next meeting will be at 8 o'clock tonight at a bar in the Backlund Bridge District..." Douglas paused after answering here, and couldn't help but ask, "...Is there something wrong with the client?"

When he reviewed the case twice, he did not take the client's innocence into account, because when he first retrieved the case data from the police station, he had already determined that the client was the family member of the third victim, and there was nothing unusual about the family relationship. The priority of dealing with the hidden wild Beyonder was obviously after solving the case, and a more detailed investigation of the client should have started from this meeting tonight.

The MI9 member saw all the changes in Douglas's expression and movements. After confirming that he was not lying, he put away the portrait and replied, "He died early this morning, not long after your operation ended."Chapter 35: UnfortunatelyTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 4228 wordsUpdate time: 2022-09-28 15:30:02

Very good, my informant died right after the operation ended, so I am indeed a suspect.

Douglas cursed inwardly, saying that the timing was too unfortunate. The special experiences of all the victims of this "devil" murder case in mid-to-late November gave him some unfounded but very attractive guesses. After all, his own experience also perfectly met the conditions for the "devil" to choose victims.

Even if the probability is small and the population is huge, it may produce a much larger number than expected... But there are few coincidences in extraordinary events, let alone ten consecutive cases that are suspected to be inspired by evil gods. This strange commonality made Douglas wonder, could these unfortunate victims be "travelers" who "traveled" through the same period as himself? And because of the special nature of "travel", they were discovered by some existence and suffered a tragic death?

He had wanted to use the opportunity of follow-up investigation to confirm whether the victims had any signs of memory loss or personality changes. However, the intervention of MI9 and the intelligence it brought put him in an extremely embarrassing situation. In order to avoid suspicion, he could not participate in the investigation of this case at the front line, and thus could not prove his conjecture, not to mention that the church was likely to conduct an investigation on this matter.

The side effect of "waking up in a dream" brought about by the fusion of two souls during the time travel had long passed, and Douglas was not sure whether he could pass the test of using extraordinary abilities without doubt. He took a few seconds to digest the bad news, put his hands behind his back and rubbed his knuckles anxiously, thinking about how to deal with it.

By the way, why did MI9 target Nighthawk at this time? MI9 does not have to monitor the underground market on a daily basis like the church. It will only take corresponding measures when there is a mission, and they are directly responsible to the royal family... Why does this seem to be a bigger problem? Douglas had no choice but to simply express his opinion: "So, in this matter, what do you need my cooperation with?"

The MI9 member raised his hand to adjust his frame. He did not answer the question directly, but turned to Father Schultz beside him: "I hope to talk to this gentleman alone."

To Douglas's surprise, Father Schultz rejected the proposal almost immediately with a firm tone: "I don't agree."

He couldn't help but slightly turn his head to look at the old man who had always been gentle and kind like his grandfather. This direct refusal was very rare in Loen's social life, which advocated subtlety. It was so rare that it was a bit rude. What's more, it was the suspicious and weak side that was on their side. The Church of the Mother Earth only had the right to preach in Loen, and it was not strong at all. Douglas moved closer to the priest, trying to express his willingness to cooperate with the investigation.

Father Schultz gave him a soothing look and said calmly, "After all, Douglas is still a non-staff member. If you have any information that is not convenient to disclose here, you can choose to discuss it with me, Mr. Taillon."

Douglas and the MI9 member called Tyron were silent together, and the two had subtly similar expressions: What's going on? According to tradition, aren't temporary workers meant to take the blame?

But the other church members who stayed in the room obviously agreed with what Father Schultz said, especially the eldest brother of the Storm Church, who made an impatient "tsk" sound without disguising it, and was obviously dissatisfied with the attitude of MI9 covering up. This extraordinary case was led by the church from beginning to end, but MI9 intervened at this time. Although it was all for work, this attitude of obviously asking for your intelligence without being prepared to exchange it for an equal amount was very unpleasant.

He was unhappy, but couldn't do anything, so he could only use powerful interjections to express his feelings.

Terran sensed the attitude of the church and seemed to want to sigh, but he held back and turned to the others and bowed slightly. "I'm afraid you have misunderstood my purpose. I swear to His Majesty the King that the information I hope to obtain is only related to the mission of MI9. It will not hinder the follow-up investigation of this extraordinary incident, and I cannot share more information with you."

After saying this, he straightened his back, looked at Father Schultz again, and proposed a softer plan: "I hope to have a talk with this gentleman with your permission and witness. What do you think?"

Douglas nodded hurriedly after receiving the priest's signal. Anyway, things were already so troublesome, and since the church was willing to give him some confidence, he certainly would not refuse.

So after the other church members left, the three of them sat down face to face. Tyron, who had roughly grasped Father Schultz's attitude, said without any nonsense, "First of all, Mr. Douglas, I hope you try not to ask me. I have no information to reveal to you. I hope we can save each other some time. Secondly, I can't guarantee that this conversation will be the last, but I can be sure that such communication will be beneficial to you. Finally, as an extraordinary person, I have the ability to judge the truth of what you say. Please answer the questions as detailed and accurately as possible and don't destroy the trust between us. Can we start now?"

It's the first time I know that "ex parte interrogation" has such an extraordinary expression. Is this the art of language… Douglas muttered to himself and made a "please" gesture.

He watched as Terran took out a pen and a leather notebook from his pocket, and when he opened the notebook he suddenly smelled a faint fragrance in the air.

His spiritual intuition trembled slightly, reminding Douglas that he seemed to have come into contact with this kind of fragrance before. It didn't sound like perfume, but it was much more complex than the scent of natural plants... He sniffed in confusion, but the fragrance dissipated faintly and was difficult to capture. Douglas had no choice but to turn his gaze to Terran, but found that he was also looking at him, as if observing his reaction.

Douglas' eyes flickered, but he managed not to look away, and took the opportunity to try to remember Tyron's facial features. He was slightly face-blind, and the memory of the original owner had gradually blurred over the past few months. Douglas was not sure if he had ever met Tyron before, and he could not remember when he had smelled a similar scent. But now was not a good time to recall, so he could only remember this face first.

"Hey," Tyron raised his hand to adjust his glasses, which had not slipped down at all, and broke the staring match between the two with a question, "You participated in the investigation of the unusual arson case in the East District last December, right?"

"Yes, I have submitted all the relevant investigation results to the church."

"As far as I know, not all of them," said Terran, as he took out a one-inch square black-and-white photo from his notebook and pushed it in front of Douglas.

The photo seemed to be a cutout from a larger photo, and it didn't show a boy's profile very clearly. Douglas stared at it for several seconds before he recognized the boy in the photo...it was actually Little John, whom he had met by chance.

Is this even possible? He looked at the photo again and again in disbelief. How did they know that I had met this little guy? We didn't say a few words to each other, and we haven't seen each other since that day...

"..." Douglas resisted the urge to ask back and said in a deep voice, "I do know this boy. I met him once during the investigation, but the information he provided did not match the actual situation. After divination, I confirmed that he was lying, so I did not report the relevant situation."

After saying this, he subconsciously glanced at Father Schultz. If anything, this was indeed the content of the investigation that he did not report to the church, but screening effective intelligence was one of his jobs, especially intelligence from civilian sources that was significantly different from known information, which was often excluded from consideration because it was likely to be specious content fabricated in order to defraud intelligence fees.

Father Schultz, who was listening to the conversation, did not have any special reaction. Tyron quickly wrote a few words on his notebook and continued to ask, "What did he tell you? Tell me in detail."

It's been a few months since I suddenly recalled such details... After asking for permission, Douglas took out his work notebook and flipped through the pages in front of Terran until he found the records of the arson investigation in December.

"'A strange woman, with an unknown face, long hair, and a strong scent on her body, had been wandering around before the fire.' The source is unreliable and cannot be trusted." Tyron read out the short comments sentence by sentence and recorded them afterwards.

Hearing these words, Douglas' fingers on the notebook suddenly tightened a little. These key words plus the familiar scent seemed to form a key that opened his memory that should have been locked. Certain scenes began to flash back in his mind, and Douglas stared at the table with a blank look, avoiding eye contact with the other two people, forcing himself to stay calm.

Unfortunately, he finally remembered why he felt familiar with that scent.

-

"Which one is this?"

"Aren't you the one in charge of the counting?"

"I report that someone is slacking off here!"

"The real body is not here, who are you reporting to?"

"…"

The chirping of whispers echoed in the room, and the topic revolved around a girl who seemed to be sleeping in the room. The crows landing on the window, the mosquitoes and flies biting the girl's skin, and the microorganisms floating in the air were all vying to express their opinions. Sitting by the bed, the young man wearing a classical wizard robe and a soft felt hat listened to the discussion with a smile, but his dark eyes were always fixed on the girl, without moving away.

After a few minutes, the young man suddenly raised his hand and adjusted the crystal lens stuck in his right eye. The whispering stopped tacitly, and at the same time, the sleeping girl slowly woke up. Her expression was a little confused at first, but then became nervous and excited. She saw the young man guarding the bed, and immediately sat up and looked at him with sparkling eyes: "I, I really saw it!"

The young man smiled gently and signaled her to speak slowly.

Then the girl recalled the scene she had dreamed of after reciting the name of the Fool seven times. It was an endless gray fog, deep in the gray fog there was a tall and magnificent palace that would appear in a myth, with tens of thousands of reddish stars hanging in the air, flickering like breathing. In the middle of the palace was an ancient and elegant bronze table, and a man whose face could not be seen sat at the head of the table, exuding a god-like majesty.

At this point, she asked the young man expectantly, "Is that the Mr. Fool you mentioned?"

"That's right…" The young man stroked his chin, as if he was lost in thought. "So, did Mr. Fool say anything to you?"

"He, no, He seemed to… seemed to tell me to go to the Church of Fools in Bayam." The girl said uncertainly, "Before I could ask Him more, I felt myself falling, moving away from the gray fog, and then I woke up."

The young man smiled and shook his head, then looked at the girl and said, "Well, thank you for your help, Miss. Now it's your turn. Is there anything you want to ask me?"

The girl seemed to have thought about it for a long time, and blurted out: "Mr. Amon, I think I want to become a Beyonder like you! Can you give me some guidance and help in this regard?"

Amon, with slightly curly black hair and a thin face, was not surprised by this request. He stood up, bent down slightly to look down at the girl, and stroked her hair: "Of course, this is a wish that is easy to satisfy."

The girl, who thought she was one step closer to returning home, suddenly felt a palpitation for no reason when Amon's hand blocked her vision, as if someone had reached into her chest and grasped her beating heart. The girl almost subconsciously leaned back to avoid it, but froze in place halfway through the action. Amon's hand moved away, and the light re-illuminated the girl's gradually darkening eyes. She slowly raised her hand, took out a crystal lens from somewhere, and put it on her right eye.

Young Amon straightened up and clapped his hands in satisfaction, "Now we are the same."

The whispers around them became restless again. The girl Amon sighed with regret: "It is certain that the 'Fool' used the aura of Sefirah Castle to deal with these..."

You Meng continued: "I intend to call them the remnants of the old times."

"What a tasteless name." The girl Amon reluctantly adopted this name. "Well, the aura of Sefirah Castle is just a positioning of the Old Ones. It only has status and does not contain any characteristics. With the aura of Sefirah Castle as a medium, the Old Ones are more likely to get a response from The Fool, but The Fool's main body is still asleep, and the one who responded should be the pre-set clone. Even if he parasitized them in advance and turned them into "us", The Fool did not interfere.

"Unless the main body takes action, there is no way to find a way to exploit the 'loophole' of the residual aura and use Sefirah Castle."

"Even the original body can't do it. Poor original body, it's only Sequence One now." The crow Amon croaked noisily.

The other Amons shouted at it in unison: "Shut up!"

The crow was thrown out of the window. The young man Amon brushed off the crow feathers on the windowsill and looked at the pedestrians on the street leisurely: "It is not necessary to use Sefirah Castle directly. It will be enough if we can find a way to temporarily awaken The Fool."

"How can you be sure that the one who was awakened was the Fool?" The girl Amon stretched and slapped a mosquito that was circling around her to death.

"The one who responds to the Old Ones must be The Fool himself. This is the rule. All we have to do is add a few... clauses that are beneficial to us." The young man Amon snapped his fingers and recalled the unnecessary clones. "There are not many Old Ones left in the southern continent. Let's go to Backlund."Chapter 36 The PastTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 4326 wordsUpdate time: 2022-09-29 15:30:02

A glass filled with a strange liquid was gently pushed in front of him. The dark blue translucent liquid in the glass was still bubbling, forming a sharp contrast with its own viscosity.

The skinny boy with a scar on his face stared at the cup, his left hand behind his back nervously grasping his right wrist. The only window in the room was blocked by a heavy and dusty curtain, and a strange fragrance permeated the dull air, making people feel dizzy.

"This is your potion." A soft and lazy female voice sounded, uttering words full of temptation, "Drink it, and you can become an 'apprentice' and a true 'Extraordinary'."

The boy walked forward slowly, took the cup of potion with the greatest courage in his life and brought it to his lips. He took a few deep breaths to try to calm down, but his nose was filled with the confusing aroma. He gritted his teeth, tilted his head back, and gulped down the potion. The slippery liquid slid down his esophagus, bringing a cold and tingling feeling.

His body twitched involuntarily, and his vision blurred. Everything he saw suddenly became more colorful. The red became redder, the blue became bluer, and many blocks of color were randomly pieced together, presenting a completely different world. Many indescribable and even transparent things that seemed to be non-existent were floating around, and in the distance there were several bright lights of different colors.

Maybe it was one minute, maybe it was two minutes, the boy gradually regained his ability to think in a state of confusion, and his consciousness returned to his body. The color blocks faded and the world returned to its original state. He could see the wooden desk in front of him, the transparent glass in his hand, and...

He endured the severe pain in his forehead and looked at the woman sitting behind the desk, whose body features were covered by a thick black robe.

In the dim candlelight, he could see the corners of her lips slightly raised, revealing a cold smile.

"Welcome to the world of extraordinary."

-

Douglas slowly opened his eyes, sat up expressionlessly, picked up the pocket watch on the bedside table and checked the time.

The shortest pointer stopped between the numbers three and four. He rubbed his eyes exhaustedly, sat on the bed and sighed.

His sleep quality was not very good that night. In the first half of the night, he kept dreaming about the pain and fear that he felt deep in his soul before he fainted. Mixed with the faint mumbling, he was scared awake two or three times. He repeatedly lifted the quilt to make sure that he was not out of control and had not grown six or seven or eight hands or feet.

"I finally made it to the late night..." Douglas muttered as he got up and went to the bathroom to take care of some physiological problems. After returning to the bedroom, he opened the window and let the chilly night breeze wake him up.

He had another dream, this time it was about the scene when "himself" had just drunk the potion and became an Extraordinary.

The dreams of extraordinary people are reminders from their own spirits. This dream, which was extremely close to reality, made Douglas once again confirm that the fragrance he smelled on Terran of MI9 in the afternoon was exactly the fragrance of the member of the "Spiritual Society" who led him on the path to extraordinaryness.

It's true that if you think about something during the day, you will dream about it at night... Douglas couldn't sleep at all now. Anxiety and countless questions occupied his mind. For example, he was forcibly suspended from work before he was about to be promoted to a regular employee and could not apply for labor arbitration. How could a serious civil servant of MI9 have the smell of a member of a secret organization? Why did the member of the "Genius Society" return to Backlund after disappearing for more than three years? And, was he too unlucky?

Haha, think on the bright side, what if I'm overthinking? Maybe it's just an ordinary women's perfume? Maybe it was picked up when Mr. Teren was intimate with his girlfriend? Douglas tried to comfort himself, but he couldn't deceive his spirituality. Once he recalled that scene in his dream, the sweet smell that filled the air when he swallowed the potion seemed to linger in his nose.

Moreover, everything was so coincidental that it made him uneasy. Ever since Tyron took out Little John's photo, Douglas had a trance feeling that he couldn't keep up with the rhythm. First, it started with the abnormal arson case in December last year. Tyron claimed that this series of arson cases was caused by Winkel Agasis, a Feysac man who had been on the bounty list. Little John was the former's informant, responsible for spreading false information among bounty hunters. And Winkel himself was a spy sent by the Feysac Empire.

Behind Fernando, the intelligence dealer who first offered a reward to find Winkel, there was a mysterious instigator, a female Extraordinary with black hair, a covered face, and a strange fragrance, codenamed "Witch," as described by Little John in the wrong intelligence. Unfortunately, before Fernando disappeared, the last person he discussed the reward with was Douglas.

"…but I failed to provide him with any useful intelligence at the time." Douglas looked at the simple relationship diagram that Terran drew on paper, still not sure what impact he had on these events.

"Please be patient," said Tyron, writing a new name on the other side of the paper. "The real problem is the death of Nighthawk after this operation."

"Perhaps you are aware that I was unconscious for at least two hours after the operation due to the backlash of the extraordinary item, and I have not left the Harvest Church since last night."

"I'm not accusing you of murdering Nighthawk."

The sharp-eyed man turned to Father Schultz, who had been listening silently, and said, "Perhaps Mr. Douglas has not yet known the new information that has been pried out from the mouths of those 'devils'?"

In the puzzled eyes of Douglas, Father Schultz seemed to sigh lightly and explained to him in a calm tone, "You should know that they choose victims according to the revelation of the evil god, and Winkle Agassiz is their next victim. But because the former may have reached the middle sequence, these cultists failed to succeed, so they chose to hold a ceremony to obtain the help of the real demons in the abyss and obtain more information about the sacrifice."

Ah, this is the real purpose of the ceremony... Douglas was subconsciously happy that the mission report could contain more content. When he came to his senses, he saw Schultz subtly turning his gaze towards him and continued, "And you, Douglas, your name appears on the list of sacrifices at the back."

...Ah, this?

Douglas felt a chill running up his spine and shivered uncontrollably, trying hard to suppress the urge to utter Chinese swear words.

But after the initial shock, the fear and worry soon faded away. After all, the "devil" had been caught, and the danger was a thing of the past. Douglas opened and closed his mouth, moving his stiff lips and tongue, and asked with a dry laugh: "No, that... there is also the possibility of a duplicate name, right?"

"If you hadn't 'sharply' found the common points among all the victims," ​​Tyron interrupted at this time, still in a businesslike manner, and said indifferently, "I'm curious why you could notice this detail of time so accurately."

Because I traveled through time at that time... How could I possibly tell you this! Douglas clasped his hands together tightly, trying to maintain a numb expression as if he had been hit by the heavy news, and tried to interrupt the other party's exploration in this regard: "Wait... So what does this have to do with Nighthawk's death?"

"During our investigation, we discovered that 'Nighthawk' was connected to the 'Witch' who had repeatedly clashed with Feysac spies, and the death of 'Nighthawk' led us to notice you."

As Tyrone spoke, he held up the relationship diagram, which listed several names. As the connections were made one after another, Douglas saw that his name had become the focus of the tangled thread.

"At this point, you should understand. Mr. Douglas, someone is trying to involve you in this series of events. All the details were planned long ago." He said in an extremely confident tone, "That's why I said this conversation is good for you. MI9 hopes to cooperate with you to find a solution to the problem while ensuring your safety."

Douglas, who had gradually given up struggling, leaned back, his eyes drifting up to the roof, and smiled bitterly: "Me...? How can I help you?"

Tyrone looked at him and gave him the first and last faint smile of the conversation.

"This 'demon' incident proves that you and Winkle may have some commonalities in mysticism. We can hopefully use this commonality to find the spy who may cause great damage to society and the people..."

-

After reviewing the long conversation from beginning to end, Douglas opened his eyes and stopped his fingers from tapping unconsciously on the window frame.

He forgave himself for his restless sleep in a humorous way. Who could sleep well with such a mess?

Finally, Father Schultz and Tyron reached a consensus. Douglas' other tasks were suspended, and he would cooperate with MI9 in related investigations in the next two weeks. Although Father Schultz comforted him and told him to tell the church about any problems he encountered, and gave him a few spells, Douglas was still immersed in the trance of "it seems like the whole world is plotting against me" after returning home from the church, eating, and lying on the bed.

It was not until just now when the night breeze slowly sorted out his thoughts that Douglas finally calmed down, got rid of the interference of the atmosphere at that time, and discovered some problems.

From his perspective, the information from his church must be true, which means that he and Winkle Agassiz were indeed the sacrifices reserved by the "Devil" family. This strongly supported his previous conjecture, which meant that Winkle Agassiz was very likely to be a "traveler".

In other words, he had the opportunity to directly contact living suspected "time travelers", which was much more efficient than carefully verifying the information of previous victims.

Secondly, what the MI9 member named Terran said might not be entirely true, especially when he pointed out that the "witch" tried to involve himself in the incident. There was no reliable evidence to support it, and it seemed like a subjective decision.

How did the "witch" know that Winkel and I were both sacrifices of the "devil" and picked me out from all the possible travelers so accurately? Douglas muttered and closed the window, lying back on the bed, staring at the ceiling quietly thinking. Of course, combined with the familiar aroma, it can be speculated that this "witch" is probably a member of the "Genzhi Society" who disappeared after the smog incident, and she hopes to use me again for some purpose...

If this assumption is true, Douglas should carefully consider whether to make an anonymous report to kill the traitor Terran who is suspected of having an affair with the "witch".

Unfortunately, it was difficult for him to find a way to send Terran in without sending himself in as well.

... Damn, this is such a familiar situation, it's just like when I first traveled through time... Douglas turned over speechlessly and decided that he must be a good person in the future, leave no stain, and stay away from secret organizations.

Otherwise, it is easy to get yourself involved in the process of cracking down on gangsters and eliminating evil.

With the church as his backing, Douglas was more afraid that his backing would be kicked away than worrying about his personal safety. When the Red Gloves came into his dream to investigate, he relied on his special ability to travel through time and space and lied about the source of his extraordinary characteristics. Now that the "Genius Society" is suspected of making a comeback, Douglas can guess with his toes how the other party will threaten him: conceal your identity as a member of a secret organization and join the church as a spy. Guess how many days you can live after being exposed?

He pulled the quilt over his head with a look of despair, his mentality very much like that of a college student who opens a brand new textbook to study on his own the night before the final exam, on the verge of giving up.

-

She looked at her face in the mirror. It was a beautiful face that belonged to a mature lady. Although her cheeks were not as full and round as those of a girl, the lines were soft enough to just break up the harsh feeling brought by the high nose bridge and slightly upturned eyes. The smart dark purple eyes and the corners of the lips that seemed to be smiling together created a temperament that was both intellectual and gentle.

She reached out to hold up her long hair that was tied up by silky silk strands, and patiently untangled her hair, and used an old wooden comb to comb her waist-length black hair. During this process, the door of the room opened and closed, and the sound of hard-soled leather boots tapping on the wooden floor gradually approached, and the other figure reflected in the mirror became clearer and clearer.

"Welcome back, Terran. How's things going?" She leaned back in her chair, stretched out her hands and raised them to grab the man's collar, asking him to lower his head.

The usually expressionless intelligence officer from the MI9 showed a helpless look on his face. He bent down obediently so that the other party could hold his face. "It went better than expected. He seems to have some concerns."

"Of course." She chuckled, her eyes mixed with a bit of mockery. "Although I don't know how he got into the church, how can a person erase the mistakes he made in the past? He will be obedient."

"I still don't understand." Terran freed a hand to adjust his gold-rimmed glasses that were about to fall off, and muttered in a low voice, "He is not even a formal member of the church, and the Church of Mother Earth is not strong enough in Loen to participate in those affairs..."

"Of course the more things you can use, the better." She scratched the man's chin like teasing a cat or a dog, motioned for Tyron to look at the mirror, and explained in a lazy and gentle voice, "If you want to blame someone, blame the fickle fate for making him meet me again. Do you think this is very similar to the fate described in those secular novels?"

The man's reflection in the mirror frowned, as if he didn't like this argument. Terran grabbed her wrist and saved her. He helped her up from the seat and sighed softly, "Go to bed early, Corti."

"It's Cortina." She corrected the other person's mistake in addressing without any care, naturally took Terran's arm, and followed him to the bedroom. "By the way, let me see him as soon as possible, tomorrow."Chapter 37 MeetingTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 4458 wordsUpdate time: 2022-10-01 15:32:56

Douglas got up on time at 6:30 in the morning and couldn't help but recall the countless sleepless nights when he was a college student because of playing games, reading comics or finishing homework.

As long as he was young enough, it was okay to stay up late occasionally. But in his previous life, he couldn't get up on time after staying up late. In this era when alarm clocks were not yet popular, there was a profession similar to the night watchmen in ancient China, who used a long pole to knock on the window in the morning to wake people up, to ensure that medieval workers would not oversleep. Of course, this wake-up service was paid for.

But after becoming an Extraordinary, Douglas found that as long as he repeatedly reminded himself of the time to get up the next morning before going to bed, his spirit would buzz like the mobile phone that was placed next to his pillow in his previous life, which was enough to wake him up. He yawned and walked through the corridor to the bathroom as quietly as possible to take care of his personal hygiene, then went downstairs to cut two slices of bread for himself, fried eggs and bacon for breakfast, and hesitated for a few seconds between making tea or coffee.

"Forget it, let's drink tea. The coffee here is too bitter..." He muttered and reached for the tea can, brewing a strong cup of black tea. After simply filling his stomach, he left a note on the table to tell the maid Emma that he had gotten up early and had something to do, so there was no need to leave lunch.

Emma was very young, only a few years older than Verity. In the first few weeks after moving in, he and Verity were not used to having someone to serve them, but the social atmosphere was there, and the landlords, Mr. and Mrs. Thomas, were old and really needed someone to take care of their daily lives. The best Douglas could do was to go out early and come back late in the name of work, and try to trouble Emma as little as possible.

Verity's response was more covert - relying on her past experience of living in the East End and the advantages of her gender and age, she quickly established a friendship with Emma beyond the master-servant relationship. She often used the excuse of learning cooking or other reasons to be alone with Emma, ​​and taught Emma, ​​who had dropped out of school, to read and write in just a few months.

The whole teaching process was very much like an underground party meeting due to various irresistible reasons. Verity discussed this matter with Douglas in private: Mr. and Mrs. Thomas were by no means the kind of cold-hearted and harsh employers. On the contrary, the old couple were kind and generous, but their class concept was a little bit heavier, well, a little bit.

According to the current situation of Loen society, the ability to read and write is an important watershed for the lower classes, especially women. A woman who cannot read or write can only get a good job as a textile worker or a domestic maid; but women who have learned to read and write and received basic education will have more diverse career choices, such as typists, front desk staff, etc. Even if they are still maids, they have the opportunity to be promoted to head maids of wealthy families in the future.

If they were not burdened by their families and had saved enough money, they could even go back to school, earn a diploma, find a more decent job, and truly escape from the lower class life.

Unfortunately, such good fortune is rare, and people who don't know where their next meal is coming from don't have the energy to think about such long-term things. Generally speaking, employers will not prepare literacy courses for maids, just like the Thomas couple, who consider themselves middle-class. Although they are good to Emma, ​​they never think of helping her learn and learn to read in order to live a better life: they always think that people should not leave their class without permission, otherwise society will be in chaos.

"There is a word called 'class limitation'," Douglas reluctantly regained his former identity as a liberal arts student when explaining this to Verity. "When we lived in the East End, we would not think of hiring someone to serve tea for us. That was something outside of our lives. Maybe this is commonplace in the world of the Thomas couple, but people are not parts that run according to the rules in a machine. When you want to do something for Emma, ​​the change has already occurred."

Verity looked at him blankly. "'Class limitations'... I've never heard of this term."

Douglas put the blame on his fellow countryman without hesitation: "It's one of the theories proposed by Emperor Roselle... Don't worry about it. Anyway, if you want, you can start by teaching Emma to read."

So far, the literacy education has been very successful. Douglas put the note under the teapot, packed himself up and walked out of the house.

Although the heating season had come to an end, the air in Backlund was still inevitably tainted with the smell of coal smoke. Douglas rubbed his itchy nose, stepped aside to make way for the postman on a bicycle, walked to the public carriage station at the end of the street, and came to a street near the East District.

This was the place where Terran had agreed to meet him, but Douglas had arrived an hour earlier on purpose and wandered around, occasionally using his extraordinary ability to pass through walls and take shortcuts, trying his best to ensure the safety of the surrounding environment.

When he walked to the dark side of the street, he took advantage of the fact that no one was passing by, spread his spiritual power, and "caught" a black bat from his own shadow.

——This is the "Shadow Bat" from the Blood Clan Baron Russ Bathory. It has the property of anti-divination and is difficult to detect by conventional means. As long as Douglas touches the "Shadow Bat" with his spiritual power and sends a distress signal, Bathory will sense it.

For Douglas, the "Shadow Bat" is actually a double-edged sword, which is both protection and surveillance. However, in order to cooperate with the MI9 operation this time, Father Schultz said that the church would suspend "surveillance" and only retain the "spiritual connection" that can contact Baron Bathory to provide protection.

This means that Douglas has the potential to use this double-edged sword to poke someone else, such as Mr. Taillon, who is suspected of having connections with members of a secret organization.

After all, it is impossible for the members of the Gnostic Society to go to the church in person to report him, otherwise there would be a scene where Father Schultz asked, "Do you have any evidence?", and then the members of the Gnostic Society answered, "Yes, I am his superior, and I arranged this job." This is the kind of self-surrender plot that only appears in comedy comics.

Therefore, Tyron, who is also an official and the current traitor, is the key. Tyron can use his position to fabricate some clues and plots and cause a detailed investigation by the church, exposing Douglas' past experience. Douglas has no confidence in hiding it through means such as dream communication. It is difficult for him not to feel guilty after doing bad things, even though it was not done by him in essence.

But if I put myself in his shoes, if I catch Tyron first, things might turn around... Douglas rubbed Shadow Bat's head, and the dark little guy squeaked and hid in his shadow again, waiting to be called at any time. He left the sparsely populated path, turned back to the agreed place, and soon waited for Tyron to come for the appointment.

The intelligence officer from MI9 still had that cold expression on his face. He glanced sharply at the revolver on Douglas' waist and said in a flat tone, "You are very punctual."

Unlike the restraint he showed in the church, Douglas deliberately displayed some of the vulgarity and rudeness of a bounty hunter. He looked the man up and down without giving in. He unexpectedly discovered that there were faint blue and black marks under Terran's eyes, as if he had not slept well.

Look, what's so good about being a traitor? You can't even guarantee your sleep quality... He sighed silently in his heart, and without exchanging pleasantries with the other party, he asked bluntly: "What are you going to do next?"

"Follow me." Terran didn't care about his attitude. He took the lead and walked towards the east area, exposing his back openly.

Douglas took two steps away from him, and quietly reached into his pocket with his left hand to hold a talisman. In his eyes, Tyron's frank attitude seemed more like he was fearless, after all, he couldn't really take this opportunity to shoot him.

However, while he was nervous and cautious, Terran really talked to him about work meticulously and even gave him a few pages of information.

The information was about the background check of Winkel Agassiz, whose real name was Winkel Einhorn. This was a suspected fellow countryman, and it would be a waste if he didn't read the news. Douglas spared some energy to browse the information at a glance, and then found that this was really a ruthless person. According to the records of MI9, Winkel was a Beyonder of Sequence 6 of the "Hunter" pathway, with some official background. When he was operating in Feysac, he had repeatedly sabotaged the actions of MI9, and had the bad behavior of killing intelligence personnel.

Sequence Six… Douglas thought to himself that if a fellow villager really traveled through time and space to Winkle's body, it would be hard to say whether it was a win or a loss. After all, it seems that "travel through time and space" is based on the original owner's dying. Sequence Six was already a mid-sequence strongman in the mysteriously fading Fifth Epoch. The only one who could make Sequence Six dying could be a stronger opponent. If such an opponent knew that Winkle "resurrected from the dead", he would definitely not give up… Wait?

He flipped back to the first page, which said that MI9 discovered that Winkle's infiltration into Backlund was triggered by a battle in the northwest suburbs, but there was no detailed explanation. Douglas closed the folder thoughtfully and looked up at Tyron, who was leading the way.

At this moment, as if a bucket of cold water was poured over his head, Douglas suddenly felt a chill on his back and his hair stood on end. His spiritual intuition clearly reminded him that someone was watching him from behind! He immediately stopped moving forward, and while trying to retreat through the wall of the building next to him to escape, he threw away the folder with his right hand and reached for the revolver at his waist.

However, after his arm moved only a few centimeters, Douglas let out a hissing sound and felt a slight pain coming from his exposed skin, which was faint but could not be ignored. Then, his movement to escape was also hindered by something, and the pain of being scratched by the edge of a thin piece of paper occurred almost simultaneously in all parts of his body. He frowned, turned his head slightly, and glanced at his arm.

The wound was long and narrow, and the blood beads rolled down, creating a bright red line in the air that was barely perceptible to the naked eye. Douglas realized belatedly that he was bound by many invisible tight threads, like a prey caught in a spider web, and even struggling only added to the wound in vain.

The "Night" charm hidden in his left hand couldn't handle the current situation... He exhaled slowly, and was in the mood to joke with Terran who turned around and examined him: "MI9's intelligence officers reacted even slower than me when encountering emergencies. No wonder you spent several months and still couldn't catch a spy."

Regardless, Douglas was inclined to think that the other party would not kill him. His past experience working for the Gnosis Society told him that this secret organization would not act so recklessly. There were many opportunities to kill a Sequence Nine silently, but if the other party had any brains, they would not choose today.

I lent you a good person to do something, but he died before the day was over. Are you afraid that the church won't become suspicious?

Tyron ignored this clumsy provocation, walked over to pick up the folder on the ground and dusted it off, looking over his shoulder to the back. Douglas raised his eyebrows and tried to turn back, but was stopped by a hand that reached out from behind and touched the side of his face.

"Don't be anxious." The visitor whispered ambiguously not far from his ear. The warm breath accompanied by a familiar fragrance blew to his neck, bringing a rustling tingling sensation. "If you move so rashly, I can't guarantee how long your head can stay safely on my neck..."

The voice was obviously female, soft and lazy, but the words sounded like a line from a horror movie, giving Douglas goosebumps. When did she get close to him... Anyway, he could now feel the other person's curvy, boneless body pressed against his back. The white, slender hands left the side of his face and casually moved down, with the rounded nails scratching Douglas's jaw and neck, and then very inappropriately reached into the collar of his shirt and rubbed his chest.

Douglas was so frightened by this unrestrained action that he almost jumped up. The words "Help! Someone is behaving like a hooligan" were stuck in his throat. He didn't know whether to shout or not. He didn't care about the risk of being strangled by the invisible thread, and tried to lean forward, trying to organize his words to stop the other party's harassment, but he didn't know how to start.

Why is the scene of the gang meeting so obscene... Douglas cast a condemning look at Terran who was standing next to him, but found that a complicated look also appeared on the other's face.

...Aren't you guys in the same group? What the hell are you so shocked about? Why don't you take care of it? !

As if pleased by the two people staring at each other, the newcomer chuckled, retracted her hands, and finally turned to Douglas to let him see her face clearly: "It's only been two or three years, you won't forget me, right?"

You used to wear a veil, so when have I ever seen your face? Meeting this member of the Spiritual Knowledge Society who led him to extraordinary things, Douglas, the spiritual guide, recalled some memories that were hidden and locked away. He quickly picked out a name, looked directly into the other person's lavender eyes, and whispered, "...Long time no see, Miss Cortina."

Cortina smiled with her eyes curved, but she was not polite in searching him. After taking away the revolver, she did not forget to search every pocket of his body, and took out a few talismans and gave them to Terran.

Douglas was scared by the touch. The main reason was that Cortina's touch was a bit skillful, and a bit inappropriate for children... Sister, let's be reserved. Although I look like a man, I am not, do you understand...

He closed his eyes in grief and anger, trying to calm his inexplicable restlessness through meditation.

"Relax, it's just a greeting..." The instigator seemed to be having more fun and tapped his cracked lips with his finger, criticizing his performance, "Why are you more nervous than the first time you climbed into my bed?"

Nonsense, even if someone from Intis came, they wouldn't greet him like this - wait, what are you talking about in the second half of your sentence? Douglas' eyes, which had just been closed, opened wide in horror again, and he saw Cortina getting closer until their breaths blended together. In the unique fragrance that hit him, he was a little overwhelmed to find that he seemed to be very familiar with such a scene, as if they had already had a more intimate contact with each other than this...

Cortina, with her arms around his neck, smiled slyly and wiped away the blood from the scratches on Douglas's skin as he struggled. Her voice was as soft as the whispers of lovers:

"So... you should finally remember it, right?"Chapter 38: Each Takes What It NeedsTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 4660 wordsUpdate time: 2022-10-01 15:54:56

"What do you want to be told?" Eaton Vogg shuffled and folded up the tarot cards, and asked the young man sitting opposite him, who was wearing a black classical robe.

The young man had slightly curly black hair and a shiny monocle on his right eye. He tapped the stacked cards with his slender fingers and said with a smile, "You must be worried about the friend who hasn't appeared here for a while. Let's read his recent situation today."

Eaton Vogel nodded in agreement. He had a good friend named Douglas in the "Association of Astronomical Observation Enthusiasts". They met once or twice a week in the association. Although they did not know each other very well, they could always chat happily until late at night. To be honest, Eaton himself felt regretful and lonely without such a loyal listener. After all, there were not many people who could tolerate his long speeches when he was in high spirits.

He didn't realize that there was anything wrong with talking to a stranger about friends, so he signaled to the stranger to start cutting the cards. The young man with black curly hair then expertly divided the deck into three piles.

"This one represents his current situation." He said casually, turning over the first card in the leftmost pile.

This is a reversed Justice card.

"Alas," Eaton muttered. The omen didn't seem good at the moment. "It looks like my friend has run into some...dilemma."

The "Justice" card itself implies fairness, honesty, and the pursuit of order, but when it is reversed, it represents prejudice, imbalance, and duplicity, which may mean that the other person is in trouble at work or in his or her emotional state.

The young man smiled and said briskly, "It's okay. Now let's see if things will turn around."

As he spoke, he turned over the middle card. The tarot card showed a happy clown carrying a bag, followed by a jumping puppy. This is the "Fool" card!

However, it was another reversed card. Eaton recalled the reversed interpretation of the Fool card: inexperienced, misguided, and deceived. He couldn't help but sweat for Douglas. If this card represented a turnaround, then things might turn from "bad" to "worse."

On the contrary, the young man opposite laughed happily, put the "Fool" card aside, and turned over the last card without saying a word.

Eaton looked at the card intently. After seeing the picture clearly, he finally let out a sigh of relief and said with joy, "Upright 'Wheel of Fortune'! Phew, praise the goddess. It seems that although things are getting worse, as long as we persist, the situation will always get better."

"Maybe." The young man rotated the beautifully painted card between his fingertips and played with it for a while. Then he reached out to collect the tarot cards scattered on the table, stuffed them back into Eaton's hands, whose expression had become extremely confused, and then stood up and left.

Wandering on the streets of Backlund, Amon walked and stopped like an ordinary traveler, visiting street shops from time to time, and finally wandered to the square in front of a certain Church of the Night. He grabbed a handful of bread crumbs from somewhere and scattered them to the flock of white pigeons.

A bold white dove jumped onto his right shoulder and cooed, "That is a blessing from a 'Mercury Snake'! Interesting, really interesting, it must not be done by that stupid snake Ouroboros."

Amon thoughtfully pulled the white dove off his shoulder and threw it back to the group of pigeons pecking at the air on the ground. The white dove flapped its wings angrily at the air and just as it was about to fly again, it was blown crooked by a whirlwind. A huge crow with a white circle on its right eye suddenly landed and startled the flock of pigeons into the air.

"Isn't this better?" The crow's voice became even hoarser. It squatted on the ground and looked up at Amon, with a cunning light flashing in its dark eyes. "A poor, weak, and desperately needy survivor of the Old Ones, a delicious adjacent sequence, and an important destiny certified by the 'Mercury Snake', perfectly meets all the conditions required for the plan."

"The main reason is that we don't like 'Hunters', 'Prayers', and 'Sailors'... right?" The white dove that had flown back at some point complained in a low voice from a distance.

"Alright." Amon generously stole a whole piece of bread and shared it with the two clones who were voted to be animals. "Tell the original body to give me permission and prepare the necessary things."

"Look at him, he's so arrogant."

"Do you want to ask the main body to re-vote? I'm tired of eating bread crumbs."

The two birds, one black and one white, started to chatter. Amon reached out and slapped each of them on the head. "Does a mission like guarding Sequence Nine sound interesting?"

The crow bit his finger unyieldingly and shouted, "Isn't it interesting enough to have 'Amon followers who are not Amon'!"

It's not like there haven't been any before. Amon grabbed the crow's wings, crumpled the black animal into a ball, and casually put it in his pocket. The white dove, who wanted to say something, immediately flapped its wings and flew away. Amon certainly didn't mean to kill his clone. He sat peacefully on the bench and admired the bustling street scene of Backlund for a while.

However, as long as he closed his eyes, the synaesthesia from his body would connect, and for a moment, the silent and dangerous starry sky seemed to descend on this busy street. Amon squinted his eyes, and the doomsday scene in front of him looked extremely real, but the bells of the Night Church rang as usual and solemnly, dispelling the ominous fantasy. He adjusted his monocle with great boredom, and secretly calculated in his mind whether the anchor of the "storm" would be shaken if the population of this huge city was reduced by one third.

He wanted to make more preparations for Adam... for his father's awakening. However, it was too early to say that now. Amon borrowed a bicycle from a passing postman, rang the bell to separate the crowd, and slowly drove to his current destination.

-

"I want the complete formula for Sequence 8," Douglas pretended to be calm and quoted the price. "As a deposit, I want to know the name of one of the main ingredients right now."

The thread was dangerously tight around his neck, ready to cut his throat at any moment like a hot knife through butter. Cortina's smile was obscure, and she raised her finger and shook it at Douglas, her fingertips stained with blood oozing from his wound.

"It seems that I am not a competent guide." She snapped her fingers, and a black firework boiled silently with blood as fuel. The eerie flame added a bit of gloom to that beautiful face.

"In the extraordinary world, it's common sense not to let your blood fall into the hands of the enemy, right?"

As the black flames ignited, Douglas suddenly bent over as if he had been hit hard in the abdomen. Intense pain exploded in his abdomen, as if more flames were burning in his body. His body trembled violently, and he kept coughing up black blood that seemed to be contaminated by something.

However, perhaps because he had experienced the whispers that might have come from the evil god, Douglas was able to barely maintain consciousness in the face of this level of pain. His throat rolled and he tried to swallow the rusty taste in his mouth, and he tried his best to say: "Then, it should be common sense that the church will not easily accept wild Beyonders..."

He raised his head slightly and gave Cortina a smile that was twisted by pain: "Ahem, uh... do you want to guess what means the church is using to keep an eye on me? The longer you stay with me, the easier it is for the church to notice you..."

The burning pain eased slightly, and Douglas was sweating all over. He finally got a chance to catch his breath and immediately tried to convince Cortina: "Compared to gambling with unknown odds, a transaction with a clear price is more cost-effective, isn't it...? As long as you give me the task and the reward, I will do it... With blood as the medium, you only need to use a simple ritual magic to take my life. Well, this is my sincerity."

Cortina didn't say anything, as if she was considering the matter. Tyron narrowed his eyes dangerously, raised his revolver and pressed it against Douglas' forehead, and asked, "What is the church's surveillance method?"

"A special ceremony," Douglas explained vaguely without revealing his true intention. "Although I have the mission from MI9 as a cover, and the church is not always watching my movements, I can still contact the bishop for help through the ceremony..."

He deliberately stopped talking halfway, hiding his nervousness and carefully observing Cortina's attitude. Should, should there be no problem? Douglas thought uncertainly. The other side had many means to contain him, such as the blood curse that Cortina had just demonstrated, or Tyron's official identity, and the two people's sequences that were obviously higher than their own, which could allow them to easily deal with a sequence nine. Even if Cortina didn't meet him, she could rely on Tyron as a middleman to control him.

Although the price of the Sequence Eight potion formula seemed a bit high, Douglas did not expect the other party to really give it to him. He just wanted to create a persona for himself that he had ulterior motives so that he could gain the other party's trust: How could a normal person work for someone as an undercover agent for free? This was a high-risk job, and it was not excessive to ask for some benefits.

However, Cortina's expression was calm, and Douglas, who was not good at guessing other people's emotions, felt his heart in his throat.

It is necessary to expose the church's surveillance, otherwise I will have no initiative at all... Douglas forced himself to show a friendly smile and continued to deceive: "Give me the formula, so that as long as you don't take action directly against the church, I won't care. Anyway, you have my handle, and we can each get what we need."

The few seconds of waiting seemed longer than a century. Finally, the black flames died down, and the woman's gloomy face softened again: "...the names of the two main ingredients for the Sequence 8 potion formula, plus one hundred pounds, which will be given to you after the task is completed."

"…Deal!" The sound of the second boot hitting the ground was more beautiful than any piece of music at this moment. Douglas bit his tongue hard to control his expression. The price didn't matter. The most important thing was to survive for the time being!

Feeling the invisible threads binding his limbs loosen and fall apart, Douglas finally stood up, rubbed the blood marks on his wrists, and confidently reached out to Terran: "Give me back the gun, or I won't be able to explain to the church."

The latter slammed the gun heavily on his hand with an unhappy look on his face. At the same time, Cortina's figure gradually faded as if melting into the air, until it completely disappeared. Douglas was surprised and excited, wondering whether it was invisibility or teleportation.

The opponent had exposed a lot of extraordinary abilities in these few minutes. He should be able to know which channel the opponent was from by comparing the data, so that it would be easier to make targeted arrangements. While planning, Douglas glanced at Tyron, who was inexplicably depressed beside him, and was a little confused: Wasn't it me who was beaten? Why is this guy angry?

Uh, could it be that he has a crush on Cortina, and today he was suddenly told that Cortina and I had an ambiguous relationship in the past... Help me, how could I be involved in such a bloody plot that was broadcast on a TV show at eight o'clock! In order to avoid being beaten up by Tyron, who seemed to be very good at fighting, Douglas wisely avoided the topic and asked in a businesslike manner: "What should we do now?"

The cold MI9 agent pushed his gold-rimmed glasses. Although his tone was a little stiff, fortunately he didn't sound like he was going to hit someone: "What do you know about the specialness of you and Winkle?"

"The only thing they have in common is that they both had life-threatening experiences at about the same time period," Douglas perfunctorily recounted what he already knew, and tried to lead the other party into a trap. "I don't know if that time period has mystical significance, or if the experience between life and death is special. Don't the cultists of the demon family know the specific information?"

Tyron shook his head. The cultists of the demon family only listed the assassination list based on vague oracles. It was obvious that ordinary people could not guess the psychology of the evil gods. But they naturally had other ways to lure the snake out of its hole.

"According to our intelligence, the 'Witch' once cooperated with the Demon Family to hunt down Winkel Einhorn, but their operation failed." He hinted meaningfully, "And during the operation, they accidentally leaked some intelligence, that is, some information on the sacrifice list. And your former informant 'Nighthawk' was killed by the 'Witch' in revenge because he had cooperated with Winkel. We will unite with the church and temporarily not disclose the news that the demon has been eradicated..."

Douglas understood what he meant and continued, "So you want me to pretend to be a victim of the same series of cases and look for Winkle in the underground market, and try to gain her trust as much as possible?"

He could probably understand that the "witch" should be Cortina. Half of the way this series of cases were finally presented to the authorities was a situation deliberately led by Cortina and Terran, as if to lure Winkle into the trap.

But the bait was laid early enough... If Cortina made the plan because of me, an old acquaintance, who came into contact with "Nighthawk", it seems that it was not too late? Or did they originally plan to fabricate a victim to contact Winkle, and it was a pleasant surprise to find that I could be used... Douglas briefly thought about the connection, but did not get too entangled.

Anyway, he and Cortina are now in cahoots with each other, so the important thing is how to persuade Tyron, the traitor, to turn over a new leaf, and for the two of them to kill Cortina together and keep their official identities. Even if they cannot unite against the same enemy, they must keep Tyron silent.

Not knowing what he was thinking, Tai Lun continued to make arrangements according to his words: "That's right. At the same time, we will use official power to put pressure on them..."

The two traitors discussed the action plan for a while, each with their own ulterior motives, and the work came to an end. It was weird for two men who seemed to be rivals in love to go to lunch together, and after the plan was finalized, they should have reduced the frequency of appearing in the same place, so Tyrone still left his back and walked away cleanly.

Douglas walked around the East District twice more, used the pendulum to divine that he was not being followed, and then returned to the Harvest Church. He looked up some information about the "witch" route, and stayed up until the evening to confirm that the church had not discovered his traitorous behavior, and then he went home with peace of mind.

-

It was around seven in the evening, which was dinner time, so he came back not too late. The maid Emma was serving the last cream stew to the table, and Thomas and his wife were already sitting at the table enjoying a glass of aperitif. When he went upstairs, he happened to see Verity coming down after changing her clothes. Douglas greeted the little girl, and while thinking about which home clothes could cover the marks on his wrists, he pushed open the door of the room, but when he looked up, he was stunned.

Why is there another person in my room... The doubtful thought flashed in his mind for a moment and then disappeared. Douglas walked into the room as usual and locked the door. The young man sitting at the table had slightly curly black hair, a monocle on his right eye, a thin face, and a broad forehead. He was looking at him with interest, and even raised his hand and smiled and said hello: "Good evening, Douglas."Chapter 39 Uninvited GuestsTitle of the Book:Mystery: From Apprentice to High-Dimensional OverlookerAuthor's name: BambooChapter word count: 3207 wordsUpdate time: 2022-10-02 15:30:01

The chopped potatoes were soft and chewy during the stew, and the slightly rough texture made the cream soup more mellow. Verity dipped the fragrant and crispy butter bread into the soup and chewed it with satisfaction.

On the porcelain plate in front of her were two lamb ribs with slightly charred skin and rich fat, and a few cooked broccoli were dotted on the side. A little further away, on a shallow plate, was a colorful vegetable salad with shredded cheese slices sprinkled on it. Verity picked up the knife and fork, easily cut the lamb from the ribs, and began to enjoy this main course.

Very tender and juicy... but the seasoning is a bit monotonous. She couldn't help but recall another dish that stewed rice and mutton together. In addition to the usual salt and pepper, Fenepot's own plateau pepper was added, which had an unforgettable flavor...

Subconsciously, she turned her head to the right with anticipation, wanting to ask something, but only saw an empty chair in her sight.

Verity was stunned for a moment, and the knife tapped lightly on the edge of the porcelain plate, making a clinking sound. Mrs. Thomas, who was sipping red wine opposite, put down her glass and did not pay attention to the abrupt extra chair at the end of the table. Instead, she asked in a soft tone: "Why is our little girl in a daze at the table? What's wrong? Did she encounter any troubles at school? Oh, your teacup is empty... Emma, ​​bring the hot tea quickly."

The girl came back to her senses and uttered a soft "ah". She was unable to capture the doubts that had been temporarily erased from her mind, and just smiled apologetically for her somewhat rude behavior. The young maid received the order and quickly returned to the kitchen to pick up the teapot. She was also not puzzled by the fact that there was a main dish placed alone on the cooking table.

Although it looked like waiting for someone to come back late to enjoy the meal... Emma's expression was dazed for a moment, and this thought was quickly removed from her shallow consciousness.

There were no missing people here, only a kind old couple and the good-hearted Miss Verity whom they regarded as their own granddaughter... Miss Verity also taught me calligraphy secretly - she exchanged a smiling look with the other party while pouring tea - although some of the handwriting on the handmade calligraphy textbook was so sloppy that it seemed like it was written by a man, which was not ladylike, but Emma would never care about these details.

Under the gaze of the crows outside the window, this happy family dinner continued smoothly.

-

The moment the door closed, the briefly lost vigilance and fear were stuffed back into his brain. Douglas shuddered violently, and the suddenly tense nerves made his limbs stiff and cold. The only thought that could still function in his mind was to retreat, desperate to escape.

With a dull thud, his back hit the door panel. Douglas opened his eyes slightly wide, and found in disbelief that his extraordinary ability was not working, even if he changed the object he passed through to the floor under his feet...

Can't escape! The crazy and clamoring spiritual intuition even directly affected the body, causing the heart to struggle in the chest at an extremely dangerous frequency, and the lungs to suffocate as if they were pressed by heavy stones. Douglas bent his back with a pale face, and his brain went blank for a moment, as if someone had taken a second of time from this world...

In that uncontrollable second, Douglas grasped the handle of the revolver with his sweaty hands, and used almost all his strength to pull it out of the holster and point it at the stranger who appeared in his room.

The man sat at the table casually, leaning sideways, with his elbows on the table, and seemed to be watching his movements with interest. During the long process of pulling the trigger, Douglas was surprised to find that he actually had the energy to look at the man's face: black curly hair, a wide forehead, slightly thin cheeks, and a shiny monocle on his right eye. Overall, he looked like a gentle young man; his clothes were not the three-piece suit style of the current Loen gentleman, but a loose and layered robe.

A bullet rushed out of the gun barrel with a gunshot, but disappeared into the air like a drop in the ocean without hitting anything.

He was stunned for a moment, and then with his remaining courage he pulled the trigger again and again without hesitation, until the touch and click from his fingers confirmed that all five enchanted bullets in the magazine had been fired, but again without causing any effect.

"Have you forgotten something?" The young man said briskly, stretching out his right hand and making a grabbing motion towards Douglas, "The little spells of the vampires are really interesting..."

At the moment when his five fingers were about to close, a dark shadow appeared out of nowhere in the young man's palm, twisting continuously and making a squeaking sound.

Douglas's face twisted uncontrollably. After the other party held the shadow bat, he clearly felt that some obscure connection had been lost from him, and he could no longer sense the existence of the shadow bat through his spiritual sense.

I didn't ask the church for help through Shadow Bat right away! As his thoughts raced, more ignored information gradually surfaced, causing Douglas's mind, which had been particularly clear due to fear, to become confused, so much so that he didn't notice that his spiritual intuition, which had been vibrating violently and prompting him to escape, was slowly fading.

The young man casually weighed the bat made of dark shadows in his hand, put it in his pocket, and said to Douglas with a smile: "Well, I forgot to introduce myself. You can call me...'Amon'."

Amon? Douglas silently repeated the name, and felt as if he had heard it somewhere before. Then he saw Amon pointed to the edge of the bed next to the desk and said, "Sit down."

This seems to be my room... Having said that, his hands and feet moved unconsciously, and he sat down obediently opposite Amon, casting a doubtful and confused look at him.

Judging from his performance, this person is most likely more difficult to deal with than Cortina. If the "witch" is Sequence 7, then Amon is at least Sequence 6, or even higher... Douglas couldn't help but look up and repeatedly confirm that he had never seen Amon's face before, racking his brains to think about why he would offend such a being.

It can't be because I used to sleep with both sexes and men...right? It can't be, right?

Amon, who caught this strange thought, smiled even more happily. He tapped the table with his fingers to call back the other party's attention: "Relax, I have no ill intentions, I just want to make a deal with you. I promise, this will benefit you and not harm you."

Douglas, who had lost his spiritual intuition, was silent for a while. Although he didn't dare to refuse directly, he didn't want to follow the other party's wishes. There were too many similar situations mentioned in the mystical knowledge learned in the church. Whether it was a transaction or a wish, some ways could make people sell their souls unintentionally with just a few words...

"You are right," Amon praised, "Unfortunately, the path I am on does not have the ability to take away a person's soul."

Douglas thought depressedly, I don't know the abilities of all extraordinary paths... Wait, did I just say what I was thinking accidentally?

"No." Amon adjusted the crystal monocle on his right eye and answered patiently, "I stole your idea."

He ignored Douglas's shocked face and his efforts to lean back to get away from him, and continued to introduce: "You must have heard of the 'Thief' path. We are not 'Devils' and will not take pleasure in tempting people to fall. You can rest assured. Since you can't resist, why don't you listen to my conditions first? Or, you can ask me a few questions first, and I will tell you everything I know."

Amon's voice was full of convincing power. Douglas couldn't help but reflect on why he had done such a useless cover-up. Finally, he mustered up the courage and decided to ask a meaningless question first: "Then, then I want to know, what sequence are you at now...?"

"Sequence three."

Sequence three... Douglas found himself unexpectedly calm after getting this answer. It was like being unable to solve a physics problem in the previous life, and your parents asked Einstein to tutor you. You would not have any idea when you saw the old man writing about the theory of relativity on the blackboard... After all, the theory of relativity and sequence three were completely beyond the scope of normal people's cognition.

He looked at Amon, and Amon looked at him, as conscientious as a Taobao customer service representative chasing people for good reviews: "Anything else you want to ask?"

"No more… ah no," Douglas pinched himself hard, gave up his fantasy, recognized the situation, and asked reluctantly, "What deal do you want to make with me? I'm only Sequence Nine…"

"Are we going to get to the point so soon?" Amon sighed with some regret, stretched out his hand, took out a piece of golden paper from somewhere, and placed it on the desk, "There aren't many opportunities to get answers from me for free…Okay, Douglas, I know some of your secrets. These secrets make you eligible to trade with me.

"For example... you, like Roselle, don't belong to this era, right?"

-

He admired the other person's expression in silence.

All the survivors of the old days released by Mr. Fool will step into this trap without hesitation, no matter whether they are calm or crazy, doubtful or fearful when they get the news... there will be no second choice. Of course, rather than directly exposing it, Amon is more willing to wrap up the answer layer by layer and watch them wandering back and forth around the truth that is within reach.

For this lucky person in front of him, He will be generous and lower the price of the gift - as long as he can satisfy Him.

The chaotic thoughts were constantly stolen and returned, without attracting any attention. Amon added weights at the right time, causing one end of the scale to fall heavily: "Although it is not complete, I am sure I have the information you are interested in... such as where those who have had the same experience as you are. And you don't have to pay much in the deal. I will not ask you to be hostile to the church, and I will not endanger your life."

"He" picked up the seemingly ordinary notarial certificate and waved it in front of the other party. "This is a notarial certificate made by a True God of the Sun Path. Its status is higher than mine, and it will witness our transaction. Believe me, even if you are a Sequence Three, you will definitely die if you go against the will of the True God. You can write down all the restrictions you can think of on it, and I will not violate it during the transaction."

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