Upon hearing Klein’s question, Emlyn White jumped in fright as he carefully sized him up and said, “You’re richer than I thought.”
He had imagined that Sherlock Moriarty would take at least a week to raise 2,450 pounds.
“I’ve been saving for a long time.” Klein sighed in response.
Emlyn nodded thoughtfully.
“It’s so lucrative being a private detective?”
“This is just an identity that makes things convenient. If you don’t encounter a huge bounty, it’ll be two to three hundred pounds a year,” Klein said frankly.
Emlyn glanced at him and asked casually, “So what do you actually do? Smuggling arms? Stealing from the vaults of the rich and powerful? For Beyonders below Sequence 7, there’s not much that can be done to save up more than 2,000 pounds so quickly, and most of them are gray areas that border on breaking the law. ”
“Accept some relatively dangerous missions; if you aren’t afraid of death, you can try.”
Emlyn shut his mouth, and only after a long time did he say, “Come and find me in the evening. I’ll take you to the seller’s place.”
“No, go by yourself.
“I’ll give you 1,000 pounds as a deposit, and you’ll bring the two ingredients to the Harvest Church. After confirmation, I’ll pay the remaining balance. I believe the seller will accept this method. This will show the credit of a noble Sanguine.”
Upon being flattered, Emlyn unconsciously lifted his chin.
“There’s no problem with this way of trading.”
Saying that, he let out a laugh.
“Are you afraid that the other party will not keep their word? Are you more at ease in the Harvest Church?”
“Of course, anyone would feel safe when they see a Mother Earth adorer by the side, who is over 2.2 meters tall and has exceptionally firm muscles.” Klein smiled and pointed at Father Utravsky. “People who can deal with him wouldn’t mind two to three thousand pounds.”
Emlyn’s face darkened, and he snorted.
“Aren’t you worried that I’ll steal the thousand-pound deposit?”
Klein casually looked straight ahead.
“Why should I be worried?
“You will come back here every day, making it easy to find you, and a living creature like a vampire would sell for more than a thousand pounds.”
Emlyn, who had been hit in a sore spot, muttered in exasperation, “Sanguine! Do you understand? Sanguine!
“Also, don’t call me a creature!”
Klein chuckled and didn’t say anything as he waited for Emlyn to calm down.
“We’ll do it the way you requested.” Finally, Emlyn reached out and rubbed his temples.
Klein immediately took out the envelope he had received that morning, and he handed it to him along with the thick stack of cash worth a thousand pounds.
“See you here at eight tonight.”
After counting the bills and after confirming that there was no mistake, Emlyn warily stole a glance at Father Utravsky and said in a low voice, “Mr. Private Detective, with you being in contact with a lot of intelligence and news, have you heard of an evil god known as The Fool?”
He answered with the most normal expression, “Many people are searching for believers of The Fool recently. Are you planning on joining their ranks to obtain the relevant bounty?”
Emlyn sighed and said, “No, I’m only considering whether I should ask this evil god or the evil soul to help me dispel the psychological cue. As you know, the rumors going around include “His” specific honorific name, and as long as it’s converted into Hermes or ancient Hermes, it’s possible to get a response… What do you know about “Him”? How much harm will “He” bring to “His” believers? Will “He” forcefully change the believers’ views?”
“What puzzles me is that you aren’t considering the two of your vamp—Uh, Sanguine’s ancestor, the ancient goddess Lilith? As long as the ritual is correct and the offerings are appropriate, ‘She’ will help you dispel the psychological cue.”
Emlyn leaned back slightly and stared straight ahead, saying nothing for several seconds.
He seemed to instantly become sullen.
After a brief moment of silence, he said in a low voice, “Before the Cataclysm, the ancestor had already rarely responded to prayers. Only certain special circumstances allowed us to get ‘Her’ help. This does not include the removal of a psychological cue.”
Emlyn’s lips quivered, but he didn’t speak as there was an indescribable fear on his face.
After a long time, he solemnly said, “I suspect that the Primordial Moon was impersonated by some evil god or a high-level devil. People who pray to ‘Him’ mostly experience change, turning cruel, crazy, and even filled with desire. And the remaining ones, with the Sanguine mainly, there is a higher chance of them losing control and becoming true monsters.
“There was once a powerful Sanguine that tried to pray due to some danger, but she ended up turning into nothing but a hunk of meat that only knows to mate and reproduce. She, together with bulls, rams, stallions, mice, and even plants and rocks, gave birth to one strange descendant after another. Each one of them developed their own Monster species. Thankfully, she was quickly eliminated along with her descendants.
This made him acutely realize that the hidden existences other than the seven deities were indeed not that trustworthy.
At that moment, Emlyn smiled bitterly and said, “If the negative effects brought by The Fool isn’t that great, praying to ‘Him’ might be something to consider.”
“It’s very dangerous to pray to a hidden existence that you don’t know about. If you’re considering that, you might as well choose a faith out of the seven deities you prefer. They won’t affect your daily life and won’t make you abandon your dolls.”
“If there’s really no other way…” Emlyn suddenly found himself calmer than he had expected.
Klein didn’t linger on. He pushed his way out into the aisle and walked out of the Harvest Church.
Looking out at the misty sky, he began to think about what to do next.
There was no doubt that his current focus was on saving money and finding the ingredients.
In order to go to Bravehearts Bar, he had to first go to East Borough and change his worker’s clothes in the one-bedroom apartment he also rented on Black Palm Street.
As he thought of this, he walked towards the carriage stop on the opposite side of the road.
…
West Borough, inside Grimm Cemetery.
Fors Wall, who was dressed in a black veiled hat, quietly walked beside Dorian Gray, a member of the Abraham family. She had accompanied him to place flowers on Lawrence, Aulisa, and company’s graves.
While walking silently, her thoughts were completely focused on the Beyonder ingredient, the Spirit Eater’s stomach pouch.
She knew that she had already digested the Apprentice potion and as long as she could get the Spirit Eater’s stomach pouch, she would become a Trickmaster. However, she ultimately lacked the clues related to it, and The Sun, that she had the most expectations at being able to help her, didn’t dare to hold a ritual or invite friends to hunt Spirit Eaters because of what had happened before.
In order to advance as quickly as possible and escape the curse of the full moon, she had even asked Mr. Fool for help, hoping that “His” adorers could help her find the ingredients. In the process, she revealed that she had published her new book and was about to receive a fixed fee for the book, in order to prove that she had sufficient power to purchase it—she didn’t fear that her real identity would be known by Mr. Fool, because she believed that Mr. Fool clearly knew it.
In the secluded, quiet, and cold environment, Fors and Dorian stopped at Lawrence’s grave.
Looking at the photo taken after his death and reading the epitaph: “he’s a good teacher,” Dorian Gray remained silent for a long time before sighing.
“How ironic…”
“Why?” Fors asked in surprise.
She had heard Lawrence mention that he was a public school teacher in Constant City, Midseashire, and that was why she had used such an epitaph.
“This has nothing to do with you. It has to do with our family.” Dorian gave a self-deprecating laugh and bent down to put down the flowers.
After straightening his body, he looked straight ahead, and suddenly spoke out, “Fors, do you want to become a Beyonder? The kind I described in my letter.”
