Chapter 34: Advance Payment

Chapter Thirty-Four
Advance Payment

Inside a windowless basement, Alger Wilson sat beside a long table covered with all kinds of vessels and parchment scrolls. His face, rough and deeply carved, was lit from below by wavering yellow light.

Before him stood a candle burned halfway down. Its dim flame cast unstable shadows over the objects nearby and across the surface of the table, making everything there seem half-real, half-phantom.

Alger’s hair was as messy as seaweed, a deep blue so dark it nearly approached black. He wore a robe embroidered with lightning patterns. His hands were clasped, thumbs pressed together, and he leaned forward, staring at a bottle of pitch-black liquid on the left side of the candle.

Whooo! Whooo! Whooo!

Splash! Splash! Splash!

From within the sealed bottle came, now and then, the howl of a raging gale; now and then, the roar of a swelling sea. In the space not drowned by the black liquid, faint mist spread and wriggled, as if eyes and mouths were growing out of it.

Alger turned his head and glanced at the wall clock. The hour hand pointed exactly at three.

He pinched his temple. His eyes abruptly became dark and deep, and the various vessels on the table surfaced with faint, subtle glimmers.

At that very moment, he saw crimson light surge into being like a tide, appearing from nowhere and submerging him all at once.

…

Backlund, Queen’s Borough, the Hall family’s luxurious villa.

After dismissing her dance instructor, Audrey locked her bedroom door and sat properly before the dressing table.

Outside the window, the sun shone brilliantly and flowers bloomed in vivid colors. On the table lay an opened blank notebook bound in delicate light-brown parchment. To its right rested a fountain pen with a golden nib and a body inlaid with red gemstones.

Audrey tried the pen once, making sure that the instant she left the “gathering,” she would be able to pick it up and record the formula at the fastest possible speed.

“I’m so looking forward to it…”

She drew a breath, held back her excitement, pressed her lips together, and looked toward the mirror.

Yet she did not see her own reflection. Instead, crimson, illusory light erupted from every direction, and from within her body at the same time.

…

Above the gray fog, within the magnificent temple that seemed to belong to the king of giants, crimson light blossomed on both sides of the bronze long table. It rose like fountains, then scattered downward, “carving” two blurred figures into existence.

Their positions were exactly the same as during the last gathering.

Audrey, tall and golden-haired, instinctively looked toward the head of the table. There she saw the figure shrouded in dense gray fog sitting slightly reclined. One hand rested flat, touching the table’s edge. The other was half-clenched, lightly brushing his chin.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Fool!”

Audrey greeted him in a bright, cheerful voice.

Then she turned her head toward the opposite side and spoke in the same tone.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hanged Man!”

This girl really has no sense of danger… She has already decided I am a good person and is not frightened at all? A well-protected noble young lady?

Klein smiled, maintaining his profound and mysterious image.

“Good afternoon, Miss Justice.”

As he spoke, he lowered his head slightly, raised his half-clenched left hand, and tapped the space between his brows twice.

What he saw changed in an instant. He saw the glow of auras radiating from Justice and the Hanged Man.

The surrounding gray fog and deep crimson stars showed no change. No nearly nonexistent things appeared, nor any pure, clear lights that seemed to possess a life of their own.

Klein’s gaze shifted slightly. He saw that Justice’s aura colors perfectly matched Old Neil’s description: red where it should be red, purple where it should be purple, blue where it should be blue, white where it should be white. The colors were bright and the layers well-proportioned. One look was enough to know she was a young woman overflowing with vitality.

“Her emotional colors include red and yellow… happiness, passion, excitement…”

Klein made a judgment and turned his attention toward the Hanged Man.

Like Justice, the Hanged Man’s aura colors were nothing unusual. His emotions were blue, mixed with traces of orange.

“Calm, thinking, caution, and a little satisfaction?”

For a first attempt, Klein was not especially confident in his conclusion.

Just as he was about to look away, he suddenly discovered something odd.

The innermost layer of the Hanged Man’s aura seemed completely unified in color and feeling.

Klein focused his attention and looked more closely. Faintly, he saw that in the depths of the Hanged Man’s Ether Body lay a deep blue like seawater, giving off a sensation of gales and waves.

“His Astral Body? Or perhaps the surface of his Astral Body? From this, he really is a Beyonder, and perhaps even stronger than Old Neil.”

Thoughts spun through Klein’s mind, filling him with doubts.

“Then again, not necessarily. Maybe it is only because of this special environment. Maybe because this is my home ground, I can see these things—not that Old Neil lacks similar signs.”

He turned again to glance at Justice, confirming that this was something only a Beyonder possessed.

By then, Alger had also completed his greeting.

Audrey inhaled lightly and, with unconcealed expectation, asked, “Mr. Hanged Man, did you receive that box of ghost shark blood?”

Alger glanced toward Klein and saw him lightly tapping the space between his brows, as though thinking of some other matter.

“Thank you very much. It met all my expectations perfectly. I truly did not think you would be able to send it so quickly. Ghost shark blood is not an ordinary extraordinary material,” Alger answered frankly.

Audrey gave a modest little smile.

“I am very glad to hear that.”

Because she had liked things connected to mystery since childhood, she had made friends in noble circles with people of similar interests. They exchanged information, books, and rare objects with one another. But before this, none of them had obtained supernatural power or become a true Beyonder. Several princes had hinted that if she were willing to become a princess consort, she would receive the gifts she wanted.

This time, however, Audrey had taken the ghost shark blood directly from her family’s treasury. After all, the inventory merely recorded it as “one large bottle,” with no exact volume noted and no mention of whether the bottle was full. She was certain that pouring away a small portion of a small portion would not be discovered. Even if something unexpected happened and the matter was exposed, her parents probably would not pursue it.

Alger looked once more, deeply, at the Fool shrouded in gray fog. Then he turned back toward Audrey and smiled faintly.

“According to our agreement, I will tell you the potion formula for Spectator.”

“I will prepare myself. All right, begin.”

Audrey drew a breath and concentrated all of her attention.

“Low-sequence potions are very simple to concoct. You only need to add the materials in the given order. But you must remember this: if the amount is uncertain, it is better to use slightly less, never more. Too much will cause serious problems. You should have heard of Beyonders losing control. I do not need to repeat that, do I?”

Alger first explained the matters requiring caution.

Audrey nodded gently.

“I understand completely.”

As she spoke, she glanced at Mr. Fool, wanting to see whether this mysterious powerhouse had anything to add. Unfortunately, in her field of vision, the Fool sat quietly where he was, like a statue.

Alger thought briefly.

“Slightly less does not mean a serious deviation. If you have no assistant, I suggest spending some time becoming familiar with chemical experiments first.”

“I have a family tutor for that,” Audrey answered without the slightest burden.

Alger spoke a little more about the acceptable degree of deviation and related details. Only then did he smoothly recite:

“Spectator, Sequence 9 potion. Eighty milliliters of pure water. Five drops of autumn crocus essence. Thirteen grams of tooth peony powder. Seven petals of elf flower. A pair of adult Manhal fish eyes. Thirty-five milliliters of horned blackfish blood.

“The last two are the main ingredients. Both come from marine extraordinary species. Handle them cautiously.”

“Mm.”

Audrey recalled as she repeated, “Eighty milliliters of pure water. Five drops of autumn crocus essence. Thirteen grams of tooth, tooth…”

“Tooth peony powder,” Alger reminded her.

With his help, Audrey gradually memorized the formula in the correct order. Even so, she was not entirely at ease and continued murmuring under her breath, repeating it again and again.

“Do you know meditation?” Alger saw Justice nod and continued. “I do not know what your understanding of meditation is, so I will describe it once… After consuming the potion, begin meditating as quickly as possible. Control your spirituality and power… You must practice every day, so as to truly master the potion’s power, explore its symbolic meaning, and uncover more mysteries. Only this will let you avoid the danger of losing control to the greatest possible extent. The key to the potion’s symbolic meaning lies in its name—for example, Spectator.”

Klein listened quietly to their exchange. At first, he had not intended to interrupt. He merely memorized and learned in silence. But when he heard this, his heart moved, and a thought appeared.

Audrey listened earnestly to the Hanged Man’s explanation and was just about to ask several detailed questions when she suddenly heard fingers tapping the table.

She and Alger turned at the same time toward Klein, who sat at the head of the table. They saw the mysterious powerhouse lightly tapping his fingers, then heard him speak in a low voice.

“Not mastery, but digestion.

“Not excavation, but acting.

“The name of the potion is not merely a symbol. It is an image—and more than that, the key to digestion.”

Audrey was stunned and bewildered. She did not quite understand what Mr. Fool wished to express.

Out of the corner of her eye, she instinctively looked toward the Hanged Man, and was shocked to discover that his body had trembled and stiffened, like an ordinary person hearing a sudden clap of thunder.

“Digestion… Acting… Digestion… Acting… Digestion, acting, key…”

Alger whispered the words again and again, as though he had grasped something essential, or fallen under some strange spell.

Only after a while did he lift his head. His voice was hoarse.

“Thank you, Mr. Fool. Your hint is as precious as my life. It has allowed me to understand many things. Of course, I believe I still have not fully comprehended it, nor understood it completely.”

Maintaining the image of profound mystery, Klein smiled.

“This is advance payment.”

In truth, even he himself did not fully understand the precise meaning of those sentences. He was merely certain that Emperor Roselle had been stronger than ordinary Beyonders, and stronger than the Hanged Man.

Advance payment…

Seeing the Hanged Man’s reaction, Audrey understood the preciousness of the hint. While turning it over in her mind, she asked, “Mr. Fool, what would you like us to do?”

Opposite her, Alger nodded as well.

“What commission do you have for us?”

Klein leaned back slightly, looked toward each side in turn, and said in a low, unhurried voice:

“Help me collect the secret diaries of Roselle Gustav.

“Even a single page will do.”