Chapter 193: Building Rapport

Chapter 193: Building Rapport

Afraid that Gehrman Sparrow might go back on his word, Anderson snatched the five-soli note in one motion. In his mind, the image of normal beef sizzling over a fire, dripping with oil, and alcoholic drinks that contained absolutely no sedatives naturally surfaced.

Huh. He actually accepted it. I only said that offhand to keep up the persona and make him understand that my money isn’t so easy to borrow, so he wouldn’t get the idea of skipping the pirate hunt, borrowing a big sum, and going straight back to the Misty Sea… Klein muttered inwardly.

In his view, a Sequence 5 Hunter, in a place full of pirates, would never let himself starve or have nowhere to sleep even if he didn’t have a single penny on him.

He shook his head almost imperceptibly and was just about to leave the pier when a rough shout suddenly came from behind him.

“Gehrman!”

…Recognizing Frank Lee’s voice, Klein shivered and turned around with his mind instantly on guard.

The Future’s first mate, the Toxin Expert with a bounty of 7,000 pounds, stood beside the ship’s rail. He cupped both hands around his mouth like a makeshift megaphone and asked, “Where will you often appear? Where should letters be sent?

“I hope to share my latest research results with you.”

I don’t want to know… This guy probably doesn’t have many friends he recognizes as friends, and I’d bet that the vast majority of people he thinks of as friends don’t truly see him that way… Mm. Admiral of Stars’ inner feelings lean more toward the Queen of Mysteries, and she lacks enough sense of belonging to the Tarot Club. Openly developing a turncoat—no, an information source—by her side will help deter her. It counts as a warning delivered at Gehrman Sparrow’s level… With that groundwork, it will be even more reasonable and natural for Mr. Fool to deliver another warning later… Klein’s thoughts raced as he took the note paper he used for divination and his fountain pen from his clothing pocket.

He swiftly wrote down the summoning ritual for his messenger, not forgetting to specify that the ritual materials had to include one gold coin.

With a whoosh, Klein flicked his wrist. The note flew like a dart toward Frank Lee and landed accurately in the other man’s hand.

“Excellent!” Frank Lee glanced at the information on the paper and waved joyfully.

Klein wasted no more time. Carrying his leather suitcase, he left the pier and began looking for an inn.

During that process, he had originally intended to firmly refuse Anderson’s suggestion that they stay at the same inn, but after thinking it over, he ultimately agreed.

He was afraid this fellow, burdened by misfortune, would run into some new problem and bring disaster upon innocent guests and attendants at the inn. Therefore, Klein decided to monitor him from nearby and deal with anything decisively if necessary.

After checking in, Anderson took his key and opened the door to his own room.

Bang! He flopped down heavily into an easy chair, as though unloading a tremendous burden.

After leaving that dangerous sea, he had finally recovered the feeling of being human. He no longer needed to worry that he might suddenly die at any moment.

After lying there quietly for a while, Anderson Hood slowly got up. He picked up the steel-shelled thermos, turned over a glass, and poured himself a cup of hot water.

He felt he ought to pull himself together and make a round through the bars:

Drink some liquor, fill his stomach, and search for sponsors!

Once the hot water cooled slightly, Anderson picked up the glass and drank happily, making gulping sounds.

Suddenly, he began coughing violently, coughing so hard that his face turned faintly purple.

Cough! Cough! Cough!

Anderson reached for his own throat, as though he could no longer draw breath.

With a crack, the glass slipped from his hand, fell to the floor, and shattered into pieces.

Cough, cough, cough… Anderson’s coughing grew weaker and weaker. His entire face had already swollen into a bluish purple.

At that moment, firelight faintly rose in his eyes, and the veins on the backs of his hands began wriggling as though they had lives of their own.

Bang!

Anderson fell to the floor, convulsed a few times, then went still. Even his breathing seemed to have stopped.

Dozens of seconds later, the corpse-like Anderson abruptly flipped over and sat up. He touched his face in lingering fear.

“Bastard. I nearly choked to death from drinking water…

“If that had really happened, I’d probably become the Hunter with the most ridiculous cause of death!

“Good thing, good thing. Before entering that sea, I spent a huge sum buying this thing. Today it finally came in handy…”

As he spoke, Anderson took from a hidden pocket in the lining of his waistcoat a doll that looked as if it had been tied together from straw. Its two eyes, one nose, and one mouth had been crudely drawn in ink.

The surface of the doll was already corroded, and black liquid was dripping from it one drop at a time.

In only seven or eight seconds, it completely melted into liquid, becoming a stain on the floor.

“This bad luck actually hasn’t weakened. It seems even fiercer now… Hiss. Gehrman Sparrow once passed along a prophecy to me: the deadliest danger is often hidden in the most ordinary life.” Anderson paced back and forth, carefully avoiding the shards of glass on the floor for fear that they would lead to another death.

“No. I have to save myself! Immediately!” Anderson abruptly pulled open the door and cautiously walked out.

He went all the way to Klein’s room, bent his fingers, and knocked.

Before long, the neither-sturdy-nor-thick wooden door opened almost silently. Gehrman Sparrow, who had merely removed his formal frock coat, appeared before Anderson’s eyes.

Anderson squeezed out a smile.

“Surprised?”

Clang!

The door was slammed shut heavily in his face.

“…” He was first taken aback, then muttered stiffly, “I need to adjust my way of speaking.”

Knock, knock, knock!

He knocked on Klein’s door again.

The door quickly opened, and a revolver was aimed at him.

“Haha. I wanted to ask whether you know any Beyonders who can help someone change their luck.” Anderson half-raised both hands, frantically hinting for Gehrman Sparrow to mention the powerful person who had provided the prophecy.

Too late. The Queen of Mysteries has already gone off to who knows where… Hm, she didn’t leave me any contact information? But since Frank Lee now knows my messenger’s summoning ritual, that means Admiral of Stars knows it too, which means Bernadette knows it. Also, after returning to Backlund, I can ask Miss Sharron for help. The Queen of Mysteries is in her circle, even if she doesn’t appear often… Klein looked at Anderson Hood with pity.

He did not especially like this Strongest Hunter. He often made inward jabs at him and displayed all kinds of malice, since the loss of his cufflink was half Anderson’s responsibility. But those thoughts remained thoughts. He had no intention of putting them into practice. If the other party truly came asking for help, Klein would likewise not refuse outright.

After considering, Klein said, “I can help you ask. I’ll give you an answer tomorrow morning.

“But I very much doubt whether you have the ability to pay the reward.”

“I’ll go make a round through the bars later! Besides, I still have plenty of private collections back in the Misty Sea,” Anderson answered without hesitation.

Klein nodded. While closing the door, he said, “See you tomorrow morning. I hope you can live smoothly until then.”

Clang!

The door was locked once again.

“Is that a curse, or a blessing?” Anderson muttered with a bitter smile. “Based on my experience, there probably won’t be another accident in the next two or three days.”

Inside the room, Klein returned to the desk.

On it lay a letter he had only just begun, and a paper crane that had been tragically unfolded.

Before answering Anderson’s question, Klein had already decided whom he would consult.

The one who best understood the methods of one Snake of Fate was, without doubt, another Snake of Fate!

He studied the unfolded paper crane’s area and the questions he wished to ask. After drafting the wording mentally, he finally picked up a pencil and wrote:

“How can the bad-luck curse brought by the mural of the Angel of Fate be removed?

“What is the name of the corresponding Sequence 4 potion of the Seer pathway? Where can its formula and main ingredients be obtained?”

After putting down the pencil, Klein carefully reviewed the contents twice. Then he cautiously refolded the paper crane along its creases and tucked it into his wallet.

Once all that was done, he continued writing to Mr. Azik.

In this letter, Klein first mentioned that, with Admiral of Stars’ help, he had entered the dangerous region at the easternmost edge of the Sonia Sea and successfully completed the ritual. Then his pen changed direction and mentioned that, during the journey, he had encountered an unprovoked attack from Admiral of Hell Ludwell and nearly suffered heavy losses.

Using that topic as a lead-in, he described in detail the ring on Admiral of Hell’s hand that was suspected to be a relic of the ancient Death. Very considerately, he asked Mr. Azik whether he had any impression of it, and whether he needed to hold it in his own hands and examine it in order to awaken more memories.

After making that point, Klein then chatted about the Numinous Episcopate’s artificial Death project and curiously asked the bigshot whether such a plan was feasible, as well as whether the previous documents contained any specific details.

After briefly mentioning that he still did not know anything about the later Sequences or where he might obtain an opportunity, Klein wrote about the precautions he had summarized during this journey through the dangerous sea, using the tone of a travelogue.

He was providing Mr. Azik with information, in case the latter suddenly decided to visit that place in search of the ancient Death’s lingering aura without knowing what potential dangers existed there.

“…It is said that what fills that sea is the True Creator’s ravings. The higher one’s Sequence, the more clearly one hears them and the more easily one is affected, driven mad, or made to lose control. Sequence 4 is the dividing line… However, a small number of demigods have found methods that allow them to move freely there…” Klein wrote at the end of the letter.

After folding the paper, he picked up Azik’s copper whistle and summoned the enormous skeletal messenger.

The messenger emerged from the floor and politely looked at Klein at eye level, spreading out its palm.

Not bad… Klein praised inwardly and handed the letter over.

Then he brushed his teeth, soaked in a bath, and comfortably slipped under the blankets.

After an unknown length of time, he suddenly became lucid within a dream and saw a barren plain and pitch-black spire.

Familiarly entering the depths of the spire, Klein found Will Auceptin’s reply among the scattered Tarot cards:

“Friendly reminder: that paper crane is about to break!

“The bad-luck curse brought by the mural can be resolved by finding Ricciardo.

“The high-Sequence formula for the Seer pathway can only be obtained by finding the mad Zaratul, or by going to the Hornacis mountain range. If you are a Blessed of Evernight, pretend I didn’t say that.

“The corresponding Sequence 4 of the Seer pathway is called:

“Bizarro Sorcerer!”