Chapter 6: Beyonders

Chapter Six
Beyonders

The same Loenese. The same solemn, tense feeling.

Where is this? What do I intend to do? I would like to know that as well…

Zhou Mingrui calmed himself and silently repeated the two questions.

What struck him most was not the sentences formed by the words, nor the meaning contained in those sentences, but the panic, vigilance, terror, and reverence displayed by the man and the woman.

He had somehow pulled two people above this world of gray fog. Even as the “perpetrator,” he was staggered and stunned by it. How much more so for them, who had been dragged here without warning?

In their eyes, this event, this experience, must have surpassed imagination.

In that instant, Zhou Mingrui saw two choices before him. The first was to pretend he too was a victim, conceal his true identity, and use that to win a measure of trust, then observe quietly and fish in troubled waters. The second was to maintain the mysterious and unfathomable image he already seemed to possess in the eyes of this man and woman, actively guiding the development of the situation and gaining valuable information from it.

There was no time for deep thought or careful deliberation. Zhou Mingrui seized the idea that flashed through his mind and made a swift decision.

He would try the second approach.

Use their current state of mind. Make full use of the advantage he possessed.

Above the gray fog, silence lasted for a few brief seconds. Then Zhou Mingrui chuckled softly. His tone was calm, his voice low without being heavy, as though he were merely returning a polite greeting from visitors.

“A trial.”

A trial… a trial?

Audrey Hall looked at the mysterious man shrouded in gray-white mist and felt the whole affair to be absurd, amusing, terrifying, and uncanny all at once.

A moment ago she had been in her bedroom, sitting before her dressing table. With a turn of her head, she had “arrived” in this place full of gray fog.

How utterly unimaginable.

Audrey inhaled and put on an impeccable courteous smile. With no small amount of nervousness, she asked, “Your Excellency, has the trial ended? May we return now?”

Alger Wilson also wanted to probe in a similar manner, but he had far more experience and steadied himself. He suppressed the impulse and remained silent, observing.

Zhou Mingrui looked toward the speaker. Through the blur, he could vaguely make out her figure: a tall young woman with smooth golden hair. Her exact features, however, were unclear.

He did not hurry to answer her question. Instead, he turned toward the man on the other side. The man had dark-blue hair, messy like seaweed, and an average build, not especially robust.

At that moment, a sudden understanding came to Zhou Mingrui. If he became stronger, or if he gained deeper knowledge of this gray-fog world, perhaps he would truly be able to pierce the haze and see the faces of the young woman and the man clearly.

In this incident, they are the guests. I am the host.

Once his state of mind changed, Zhou Mingrui immediately noticed details he had overlooked.

The sweet-voiced young woman and the reserved, steady man were both quite illusory, touched faintly with red. They were like projections of the two crimson “stars” above the gray fog.

And these projections were based on his connection with the crimson lights—a connection formless and invisible, yet one he could truly grasp.

If he severed that connection, the projections would dissipate, and they would return.

Zhou Mingrui nodded almost imperceptibly, looked toward the golden-haired young woman, and laughed softly.

“Of course. If you formally request it, I can send you back now.”

Audrey, hearing no malice in his voice, breathed out in relief. A gentleman capable of something so miraculous had given his word. Surely he would observe it strictly.

As her mind steadied slightly, she no longer rushed to leave. Her emerald eyes turned left and right, gleaming with a different light.

In a voice at once nervous, expectant, and eager to try, she said, “This is truly a marvelous experience… Mm, I have always looked forward to something like this. I mean, I like mysteries, I like miracles beyond nature. No, that is not the point. What I mean is, Your Excellency, what must I do to become a Beyonder?”

The more she spoke, the more excited she became, until she was almost incoherent. The dream that had sprouted when she was a child listening to elders tell strange tales seemed, at last, to have found a ray of hope.

Within only a few sentences, she had already forgotten her earlier fear and alarm.

Excellent question! I would also like to know the answer…

Zhou Mingrui mocked himself inwardly.

He began to consider how to answer in a way that would preserve his mysterious, unfathomable image.

At the same time, he felt that standing around like this to talk seemed rather lacking in style. For a scene such as this, should there not be a temple, a long table, and many high-backed chairs carved with ancient patterns and suffused with mystery? Should he not sit at the head of the table and quietly gaze upon his guests?

The thought had only just formed when the gray fog suddenly churned, startling both Audrey and Alger.

In an instant, they saw towering stone pillars rise around them. Above, a broad dome enclosed the space.

The entire structure was vast, magnificent, and solemn, like the palace of giants in legend.

Directly beneath the dome, where gray fog gathered, a long bronze table appeared. On either side stood ten high-backed chairs, with matching seats at the head and foot. On the backs of the chairs, deep crimson flickered within a brilliant glow, outlining strange constellations that had no counterpart in reality.

Audrey and Alger found themselves seated opposite each other, occupying the seats nearest the head of the table.

The young woman glanced left, then right, and could not help murmuring, “How magical…”

Indeed, it is magical…

Zhou Mingrui extended his right hand and very lightly rubbed the edge of the bronze table, his expression unchanged.

Alger also surveyed the surroundings. After a few seconds of silence, he suddenly spoke, answering Audrey’s question in Zhou Mingrui’s place.

“You are from Loen, are you not?”

“If you wish to become a Beyonder, join the Church of the Evernight Goddess, the Church of the Lord of Storms, or the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery.

“Although most people never encounter the extraordinary in their entire lives, to the point that they even suspect the churches are the same—and although many clergy within the major churches hold similar views—I can tell you with certainty that in the tribunals, the courts of judgment, and the execution agencies, Beyonders still exist. They are still fighting the dangers that grow in the darkness. There are simply far, far fewer of them than there were in the early Black Iron Age, or before.”

Zhou Mingrui listened attentively, while making every effort to keep his body language careless, as though he were hearing children tell stories.

Relying on Klein’s remaining historical knowledge, he knew that the “Black Iron Age” referred to the present epoch, the Fifth Epoch, which had begun 1,349 years ago.

Audrey listened quietly. Then she exhaled and said, “Sir, I know all of that. I even know more. For example, the Nighthawks, the Mandated Punishers, and the Machinery Hivemind. But I do not wish to lose my freedom.”

Alger gave a low laugh and said vaguely, “Who becomes a Beyonder without paying a price? If you do not consider joining a church and accepting its tests, you can only look to the royal family, to noble houses whose histories stretch back more than a thousand years, or, if fortune favors you, to those evil organizations hiding in the shadows.”

Audrey instinctively puffed out her cheeks. Then, in a fluster, she looked left and right. Only after confirming that the “mysterious gentleman” and the man opposite had not noticed her small movement did she continue to ask, “Is there no other way?”

Alger fell silent.

After more than a dozen breaths, he turned his head toward Zhou Mingrui, who sat at the head of the table in quiet observation.

Seeing that the other party neither approved nor objected, Alger looked back at Audrey and said carefully, “I actually possess two formulas for Sequence 9 potions.”

Sequence 9? Zhou Mingrui muttered inwardly.

“Truly? Which two?” Audrey clearly understood what a Sequence 9 potion formula represented.

Alger leaned back slightly. In an unhurried tone, he replied, “As you know, for human beings to become true Beyonders, they can only rely on potions. The names of potions come from the Blasphemy Slate. After repeated translation through Giant, Elvish, ancient Hermes, ancient Feysac, and modern Hermes, they have long undergone changes in keeping with the times. The name itself is not the point. What matters is whether it represents the core symbolism of the potion.

“One of the Sequence 9 formulas I hold is called Sailor. It grants outstanding balance, allowing you to move freely even on a ship enveloped in storm, as though you were walking on solid ground. You will also gain excellent strength, along with illusory scales hidden beneath your skin. These make you as difficult to seize as a fish. In the water, you will be as agile as a member of the sea races, and even without any equipment, you will be able to dive for at least ten minutes with ease.”

“That sounds wonderful… The Lord of Storms’ Sea Blessed?” Audrey asked, half expectant and half seeking confirmation.

“In ancient times, it was indeed called Sea Blessed,” Alger replied without pausing. “The second Sequence 9 formula is called Spectator. As for what it was called in antiquity, I do not know. This potion grants exceptional spirituality and keen powers of observation. I believe you have watched operas and plays, and can understand what Spectator signifies: to stand apart like an onlooker and observe the ‘actors’ in worldly society; to glimpse their true thoughts through their expressions, their gestures, their habits of speech, and the private movements they do not realize they reveal.”

At this point, Alger stressed one sentence.

“You must remember: whether at an extravagant banquet or on a bustling street, the spectator is always only a spectator.”

Audrey’s eyes grew bright as she listened. After a long moment, she said, “Why? All right, that is a question for later. I—I think I have fallen in love with that feeling. Spectator. How may I obtain the Spectator formula? What should I give you in exchange?”

Alger seemed to have long since prepared his answer. In a deep voice, he said, “Ghost shark blood. At least one hundred milliliters of ghost shark blood.”

Audrey first nodded with excitement, then asked worriedly, “If I can obtain it—I mean, if—how should I give it to you? And how can I be sure that after you receive the ghost shark blood, you will give me the potion formula, and that the formula is genuine?”

Alger’s tone remained ordinary. “I will give you an address. Once I receive the ghost shark blood, I will mail the formula back to you, or tell you here directly.

“As for assurance, I believe that with this mysterious Excellency as witness, both you and I will feel sufficiently at ease.”

As he said this, his gaze turned toward Zhou Mingrui seated at the head of the table.

“Your Excellency, you can bring us here. You possess power beyond our imagination. With you as witness, neither I nor she would dare violate the agreement.”

“Yes!” Audrey’s eyes lit up, and she agreed excitedly.

To her, the mysterious gentleman whose methods were beyond imagination was indeed an authority sufficient to serve as witness.

How could she or the man opposite dare deceive him?

Audrey turned halfway around and looked earnestly at Zhou Mingrui.

“Your Excellency, please witness our transaction.”

Only then did she realize that she had forgotten a particular question all along. It was far too impolite. She quickly added, “Your Excellency, how should we address you?”

Alger nodded slightly and followed in a solemn voice.

“Your Excellency, how should we address you?”

Zhou Mingrui was startled for a moment. The fingers he had placed on the bronze table began tapping softly. In his mind, the contents of the earlier divination suddenly flashed past.

He leaned back, withdrew his right hand, interlaced his fingers, and rested them against his chin. Smiling at the two of them, he said, “You may call me…”

Here, he paused. Then, in a gentle and even voice, he continued:

“The Fool.”