The one that was most interested Cuarón’s suicide was none other than Justice Audrey. However, she had long noticed that Fors had some slight interest in the case. Hence, she didn’t ask and had maintained her posture, patiently waiting for a particular best-selling author to pose the question.
In just a second or two, Fors looked at the borders of the table in front of The World and asked after some deliberation, “What’s the truth?”
Klein had already rehearsed how he was to describe it, so without any hesitation, he got The World to say, “The mastermind behind it is the royal family’s consultant, Hvin Rambis. He probably has another identity—a councillor of the Psychology Alchemists.”
When she heard the first sentence, Audrey’s mind had already naturally produced the image of a genial elder. This man came from an aristocratic background. He had graduated from Berth University and possessed profound knowledge and outstanding insight. He had been a consultant to the royal family for more than a decade and was publicly recognized as a scholar, a good man, a gentleman.
Audrey had previously suspected that Cuarón’s suicide might have been instigated by the royal family, but she never expected the mastermind to be the genial, amiable, kind, and humorous Hvin Rambis!
When The World announced the other identity of the man, she found herself unable to hide her alarm and puzzlement.
While Audrey’s mind was in chaos, Alger acutely sensed the brewing problems in Backlund’s political climate. He felt that various factions were interlinked and that there were many secrets. They formed a massive bucket of explosives that could explode at any time.
And surrounding this famous landmark, swirls of air was materializing and the light was darkening. It appeared that eddies were gearing up to form hurricanes.
Suddenly, Alger had a theory.
He instinctively glanced at the seat of honor at the end of the long bronze table before quickly retracting his gaze. He could hardly quell the upheavals in his heart.
At that moment, he had a baffling feeling that his ambition and goals were too puny. He had only wanted to become an archbishop of the Church of Storms, a saint. In this position, he would have authority in the world and he could direct many things in secret.
As thoughts flashed through his mind, Alger trembled in an almost indiscernible manner. His heart was spewing with agitated emotions.
When Cattleya connected Queen Mystic’s whereabouts for the past two months, she felt that the latter had been spending a large portion of her time in Backlund.
Fors knew some of the details of Cuarón’s suicide case. She knew that the victim had acted on his own the entire time and that he wasn’t controlled. She also knew that the witnesses believed without a doubt that everything was a result of Dwayne Dantès. Comparing this with the actual situation had induced a deep sense of fear towards the councillor of the Psychology Alchemists. She didn’t wish that she would one day find out that her thoughts and hobbies were all a result of someone else’s doing.
Klein’s sharing of Hvin Rambis was mainly to warn Miss Justice. He wanted her to be careful and wary of this Psychology Alchemists councilor. Now, seeing that his goal had been achieved, he said, “There’s another matter. Help me take note of Brigadier General Qonas Kilgor. He’s the deputy director of MI9. On the surface, he’s only a Sequence 5, but in actual fact, he’s a Black Emperor pathway demigod. He possesses rather potent spiritual perception and can sharply detect that others are observing him.”
Alger and Cattleya had more or less heard of the high-ranking member of MI9, Qonas Kilgor. However, they lacked a deeper understanding of the matter, so all they could do was refresh whatever they knew and remind themselves to be especially careful when encountering anything to do with the person in question.
Seeing that Mr. World had nothing else to share, Derrick didn’t wait for Mr. Hanged Man to ask. He said, “I’ve made a new friend again.”
He paused for a moment before getting to the crux of the matter.
“The area he patrols includes the former Chief’s mausoleum. He told me that the six-member council has yet to open the door that leads underground. However, through the cracks on the outer rocks of the mausoleum, there are luxuriant and strange plants growing out from them. They look like human hair.”
He knew that the former would definitely have questions.
Alger, who finished listening quietly, frowned slightly before relaxing his brows. After some deliberation, he said, “Apart from that, are there any anomalies?
“Is the one in charge of opening the mausoleum that Shepherd Elder Lovia?”
“It’s not her. The Chief is present too. Likewise for two other Elders,” Derrick answered seriously. “There aren’t any other anomalies for the time being.”
Alger nodded and said, “Very good. Maintain your present state. Establish communications with more people. Keep a note of any changes with that mausoleum.”
After being praised, Derrick hurriedly nodded as he answered eagerly.
After a few more exchanges of words, the gathering naturally began the learning segment. Fors had planned on asking what the Pharaoh mummy was for, but after seeing The World, she shut her mouth.
When the gathering ended, Klein, who had returned to the real world, turned on the tap and washed his face and hands before patiently waiting for night to come.
When the time came, he would be riding on a military airship to Desi Bay.
…
Southern Continent, Behrens Harbor.
As the Golden Dream was cruising south in the Fog Sea, Danitz only took a few days to arrive at the harbor northmost of West Balam.
He draped himself with a dark-colored cloak and carried a suitcase. Wearing the Sun Brooch inside his clothes, he carried an iron-black boxing glove close to his chest. He was walking down the harbor’s roads and was out while sweating profusely. He felt that he was already armed to the teeth, far stronger than he was before.
Once out the harbor, Danitz glanced to his sides and extended his hand to stop a carriage.
When the carriage driver saw him, he said out a string of words:
“%#@&&&()(())…”
He didn’t know the local language, Dutanese, at all!
And back when he came to West Balam, he had his captain, a polyglot, leading the crew. He didn’t need to worry that he didn’t understand anything.
