Chapter 143: Mummy

Chapter 143: Mummy

At 7 Pinster Street, Leonard Mitchell walked to his desk and spread out a sheet of letter paper.

He immediately picked up the round-bellied fountain pen, lowered his wrist, and prepared to write.

However, just as he left a dark-blue dot on the paper, the fountain pen paused. His wrist tried to move several times, yet each attempt returned to stillness.

He raised his wrist, lowered the pen, then repeated the same motion again and again. Finally, his wrist froze in midair.

Pa!

Leonard threw down the fountain pen, crumpled the letter paper into a ball, and accurately tossed it into the wastebasket beside the desk.

…

At 160 Böklund Street, Klein took the thin letter from the mouth of one of Miss Messenger Reinette Tinekerr’s heads.

He weighed it briefly and only opened the envelope after his spiritual intuition gave no warning, taking out the sheet inside.

There was only one page. On it, two lines of words were written in a delicate hand:

“I have something I hope you can help with. I will explain the details in person.”

“Sharron.”

So it is a letter from Miss Sharron… Klein resolved his confusion. He casually took out a gold coin and, in front of Reinette Tinekerr, performed a simple divination. Only then did he draw out another sheet of letter paper and write a single word:

“Tonight.”

After folding the paper, he handed it to Miss Messenger and asked, “Can you still locate the sender?”

If not, he would provide Sharron’s receiving address:

126 Gard Street, Hillston Borough, Madam Maria.

“Yes…” One of Reinette Tinekerr’s blond-haired, red-eyed heads gave the answer.

She then opened her mouth and bit down on the folded letter.

After Miss Messenger vanished from the room, Klein immediately set up a ritual, preparing to bring Creeping Hunger down from above the gray fog back into the real world, then “Travel” to the various archipelagoes in search of a fortunate pirate.

—Creeping Hunger had not yet been sealed. It still had to eat one person every day. Klein could only use it grudgingly: take it out and feed it whenever he needed it, then toss it back above the gray fog when the time was nearly up. In any case, it would not make up the “difference” in between.

“If Creeping Hunger dares act up, I will feed it mushrooms!”

After ending the ritual and tidying the scene, Klein put on the thin human-skin glove. His figure swiftly faded and turned transparent, vanishing from where he stood.

…

After dinner, and after Creeping Hunger had finished “dry howling” above the gray fog, Klein used an excuse of stomach discomfort to enter the washroom. He took it out again and, through it, Teleported to the outside of the Bravehearts Bar in the Backlund Bridge area.

During this process, he had naturally altered his appearance, becoming the great detective Sherlock Moriarty, who had black hair, brown eyes, a beard, and spectacles.

Bending his back, rolling up his trouser cuffs, Klein smiled self-mockingly, lowered the brim of his hat, pushed open the heavy wooden door, and entered the bar.

After asking the bartender, he took a glass of Southville beer and came outside billiard room number three. He bent his finger and lightly knocked on the locked door.

Knock, knock, knock…

Amid the rhythmic sounds, the door creaked and opened a narrow crack.

Ian, whose eyes were bright red, poked his head out. He immediately revealed a smile.

“Sir, please come in.”

Because the weather had grown hotter, he was no longer wearing that old overcoat. He simply had on a linen shirt.

Klein nodded with a smile, slipped into the billiard room, and quickly took in the scene inside:

Maric, whose hair was rather messy, wore a white shirt, black vest, and black trousers. He held a long cue, leaning over there to play billiards.

Perhaps because Sherlock Moriarty had left too deep an impression as a source of chaos, he had not gathered his living corpses to play cards this time.

“Long time no see.” Klein took the initiative to greet him.

At the same time, Sharron, wearing a small black bonnet and a matching black court dress, appeared on the other side of the billiard table, quietly seated on a high stool.

“Good evening, Madam.” Klein shifted his gaze over and greeted her with a smile and bow.

Sharron rose in a slightly floating manner, lifted the sides of her skirt, bent her body slightly, and returned the courtesy. Maric set down the cue and said in a low, slightly hoarse voice, “It seems you are still staying in Backlund.”

His face was still just as pale, but the malice hidden within his brown eyes had faded quite a bit. It seemed that his self-restraint during this period had been rather effective.

One could tell that obtaining the Crimson Moon Coronet had freed him from approaching collapse every full moon and from having to frequently change to new kinds of sedatives.

Klein did not respond directly to Maric’s words. He walked to the billiard table, set down the beer glass, and smiled.

“I am very sorry. I originally could have sold you a Wraith Beyonder characteristic, but unfortunately, it was lost.”

Sharron’s azure eyes did not move. She did not ask for the reason, only simply asking, “Are you fine?”

She knew that the Wraith Beyonder characteristic Sherlock Moriarty had mentioned belonged to Blood Admiral Senor, and that Blood Admiral Senor had been Sherlock Moriarty’s marionette. The disappearance of the Wraith characteristic therefore meant the marionette had been destroyed and lost. For the corresponding Beyonder, that was no small matter.

“Fortunately, I myself did not suffer any harm.” Klein sighed and smiled.

“No wonder I did not see Senor this time…” Maric murmured in some realization.

Neither Maric nor Miss Sharron cares too much about that Wraith Beyonder characteristic… Do they have another channel, or rather, another method?

Klein keenly caught a point and shifted to ask, “What is the matter this time?”

Maric immediately glanced at Ian. The steady youth, who could still be considered a boy, did not ask anything. He quickly left the billiard room and shut the door behind him.

Sharron’s doll-like face showed no change in expression, allowing Maric to speak.

“The day after tomorrow, a ship from the Southern Continent will arrive at Pritz Harbor. It has close ties with the Loen military.

“This ship carries many treasures and cultural relics plundered from the Star Plateau, the Paz Valley, and the Hagati Grasslands. Among them is a mummy. It belongs to the nineteenth king of the ancient Highland Kingdom—Tutanthis II.

“The Southern Continent’s original languages did not originate from ancient Feysac. They have their own structures. In ancient Highland language, a king was also called a Kardev. It is an exclusive term, one Emperor Roselle translated as ‘pharaoh.’ Who knows what he was thinking. Also, ‘mummy’ was a term he named as well. In short, ‘pharaoh’ means son of god, king of men.

“Tutanthis II was once a high-Sequence powerhouse. However, after his death, the corresponding characteristics were already retrieved. Only the body remained and was made into a mummy.

“To other Beyonders, it is a material filled with spirituality, an excellent object for making a living corpse. But for us, it holds additional meaning—very important meaning. Our goal this time is to obtain the mummy of Tutanthis II.”

Additional meaning? If it is the corpse of a high-Sequence powerhouse without Beyonder characteristics, what additional meaning can it have besides being used as material?

Klein’s heart stirred. He abruptly associated it with the Hermit’s attempt to purchase a drop of blood from a mythical creature.

Could it be needed for the ritual to advance from Sequence 5 Wraith to Sequence 4 Puppet? Has Miss Sharron already obtained the formula and digested the Wraith potion? Judging from her usual state of life, she is practically acting as a Wraith at all times. Perhaps she finished digesting it long ago… However, what the evil spirit in the underground ruins said before seemed to indicate that Miss Sharron did not have the Puppet potion formula at that time. Mm, everyone has their own circles. It is not too strange for Miss Sharron to have found a way to obtain it…

Klein thoughtfully glanced at Sharron, but discovered no obvious change compared with before. She still resembled a doll more than a living person, yet no more sinister traits had appeared.

Sharron quietly sat there, focused on Sherlock Moriarty and Maric, listening to their conversation.

“If it is only a high-Sequence mummy without Beyonder characteristics, then the protection level should not be too high. Even with just the two of you, it should not be too difficult to steal it,” Klein said after some thought, raising his doubt.

In his view, Sequence 5 was already enough to be called a quasi-powerhouse. Unless that ship had a demigod guarding it, it would be difficult for others of the same level to effectively stop Sharron if her only goal was the mummy. After all, the Beyonders responsible had too many important items to protect, and those items could be scattered across different cabins depending on preservation methods.

This time, Sharron gave the explanation. As always, she was succinct.

“We are worried it is a trap set against us by the Rose School of Thought.

“If it is not, 1,000 pounds. If it is, we will draw attention while you take the mummy. Depending on the danger, the reward will range from 5,000 to 10,000 pounds.”

So that is why…

Klein did not immediately respond. After thinking for a moment, he asked instead, “Do you know of Spirit World Plunderers?”

A Wraith was also the type of Beyonder that could effectively move through the spirit world.

Sharron gave a slight nod.

“I can use gold pounds, along with information on Spirit World Plunderers, as payment.”

Klein gave an “Mm.”

“I will consider it. I will write back before dawn.”

As an excellent Seer, no matter what, he had to go above the gray fog to confirm the level of danger. However, what he could be certain of now was that this was absolutely not a trap aimed at him, because he had no need for a mummy.

“Alright,” Sharron said without changing expression.

Klein did not leave directly. He walked to the door, called Ian back in, and casually asked, “Has there been any news recently worth noting?”

Ian thought for a while, then spoke of one relatively important piece of news after another.

“…Someone has been asking about an organization that believes in the Fool…”

Klein smiled in slight astonishment.

“A young man with black hair and green eyes?”

He suspected it was Leonard Mitchell.

Ian shook his head.

“No. Black hair, black eyes.”

Which Mister from the Aurora Order could it be?

After some consideration, Klein asked, “Can you draw him?”

“…”

Ian froze for a second, then mocked himself. “Then you may never be able to recognize who he is.”

At this moment, Sharron spoke.

“I can help you.”

“Alright.” Ian first breathed out in relief, then, following instructions, prepared an extremely simple ritual.

Then, while possessed by a Wraith, he trembled and twitched as he completed a sketch:

It was a young man with slightly curly black hair, a rather broad forehead, thin cheeks, deep black eyes, and a monocle.

Amon!

Blasphemer Amon!