Chapter 122: A Different Kind of Enemy

Chapter 122: A Different Kind of Enemy

Hearing the fat Apothecary’s question, Klein laughed inwardly, but outwardly remained cold.

“It begins from the moment you make the first payment.”

Darkwill first took out a large stack of cash without hesitation, then counted it with heartache.

“This is three hundred pounds.

“You may fulfill the agreement now.”

Klein took the notes, nodded, and said, “No problem.”

Darkwill instantly relaxed considerably, like a drowning man finally grasping a life buoy.

More than half an hour later, inside Tiana Inn, Darkwill stared blankly as the powerful adventurer Gehrman Sparrow said to the night-shift receptionist, “Change to a luxury suite.”

After speaking, Klein stepped back two paces, as though making way for the fat Apothecary.

Darkwill swallowed and asked hesitantly, “I am paying?”

“During a mission, all expenses are borne by the employer. That is an adventurer’s rule,” Klein replied without changing expression.

I would believe you if I were a stupid donkey! If you call a few ladies from the Red Theater over, do I have to pay for that too? After thinking for a moment, Darkwill squeezed out a smile.

“We can use an ordinary room. That will make protection more convenient.”

“Then you may stay there alone,” Klein replied, playing Gehrman Sparrow effortlessly.

Darkwill laughed dryly twice, walked to the counter, and said expressionlessly, “One luxury suite.”

After they truly checked in, he entered the smaller bedroom. While opening the window to leave a “door” for the owl, Mr. Harry, he took the ring box from his pocket and checked the condition of that strange die.

After confirming that the die remained the same as before, with the four-pip side facing upward and no change, Darkwill silently exhaled.

…

Backlund, inside an ordinary house.

Ince Zangwill woke from deep sleep. His first reaction was to confirm his own condition.

This was something he repeated every day, because he had no way of knowing what stories 0-08 would weave after he fell asleep, or what accidents it would bring.

After confirming that he was not injured, Ince Zangwill put on polished leather boots and stood.

As expected, he saw 0-08 quietly resting upon the desk like the most ordinary and common quill pen.

However, last night, it had clearly been locked inside a metal box covered in layer upon layer of symbols and magical marks.

With a grave expression, Ince Zangwill walked over. With one hand, he gripped 0-08. With the other, he flipped open the nearby notebook and discovered nearly a full new page of writing:

“Ince Zangwill could not recall what he had done last night, but he sharply noticed certain problems.

“He looked into the mirror and found that the person inside actually felt unfamiliar, as though another Ince Zangwill had been born within his body.

“He lowered his head and saw obvious abnormalities beneath his fingernails, but no matter what, he could not recall what he had done last night…”

After reading that passage, Ince Zangwill instinctively looked toward the full-length mirror inside the room. He saw that the man within still had one blind eye, his classical-statue-like face bearing not a single wrinkle. Yet at the corners of his mouth, a faint smile lingered, forming a stark contrast with his grave gaze.

At that moment, Ince Zangwill felt that his complexion was somewhat green, that the area beneath his eyes was dark, and together with that smile whose origin he knew nothing of, his overall appearance seemed exceedingly sinister, vicious, and strange.

He lifted both hands, lowered his head, and saw pieces of already-dried black mud trapped beneath his fingernails, as though he had gone into the garden at midnight and dug around tree roots.

Although he had already switched from the Death pathway to the Evernight pathway and become a Nightwatcher, Ince Zangwill had not lost his previous Beyonder powers. He remained a powerful spirit medium, a mentor in the domain of the dead…