Chapter 128: Rolling the Die

Chapter 128: Rolling the Die

Hearing Leonard Mitchell’s invitation, Emlyn did not show fear. Holding his silk top hat and wearing a faint, almost imperceptible smile, he calmly entered the house.

He did not remove his coat, because a Potion Professor always carried many auxiliary items on his person. Once the cover was lost, the sight would not be especially attractive.

Wearing his perfectly straight tailcoat, Emlyn sat down just like that, leaned his back against the support behind him, and spoke leisurely.

“There is no need to make this so troublesome.

“If you have it, name a price. If you do not, speak frankly.

“Of course, I am quite certain you have it.”

He gave a soft laugh. His crimson eyes reflected Leonard Mitchell’s figure, a man who did not care much about the tidiness of his clothes.

This scene, where I know you possess a secret while you know absolutely nothing about me, made Emlyn’s body and mind feel soothed, filling him with superiority.

Leonard combed his black hair back with his fingers, casually sat in the chair opposite him, and smiled without revealing any panic or confusion.

“At the very least, I need to know who wants it.”

“Perhaps me. Perhaps a friend of mine.” Emlyn lightly lifted his chin and smiled elegantly.

Leonard narrowed his eyes, tilting his head as if thinking about something.

At last, he laughed.

“Alright. Since you have already come here with that badge, I will answer honestly.

“I do indeed have a mystical item capable of stealing another person’s Beyonder abilities, but I have only one.

“If you wish to buy it, 7,000 pounds. No bargaining.”

7,000 pounds? A mystical item of this kind is that expensive? Although he was not the one paying, Emlyn was still given a fright and nearly failed to maintain the dignity of the Blood Clan.

In his mind, he had already automatically converted that sum into how many dolls and how many sets of doll dresses it equaled.

After two seconds of silence, Emlyn revealed a smile.

“I will consider it and give you an answer in the next two days.”

“Fine.” Leonard Mitchell curled the corner of his mouth.

After leaving the house at No. 7 Pinster Street, Emlyn acted as though nothing had happened. He hired a rental carriage to the steam metro station in North Borough, then returned all the way to the South of the Bridge.

Removing his hat, he looked back at the street, where carriages passed and pedestrians came and went. Emlyn gave a low laugh and stepped into Harvest Church.

Between a roadside tree and an iron-black gas lamp post, an inconspicuous shadow suddenly stirred, and Leonard Mitchell, black-haired and green-eyed, emerged from it.

He appeared without a sound, not attracting the attention of any passersby.

“Someone from the Church of the Earth Mother?” Leonard frowned slightly, as if speaking to himself.

After pausing for two seconds, he left Rose Flower Street, where Harvest Church stood.

…

“7,000 pounds? Why doesn’t he just rob someone?” Above the gray fog, after hearing The Moon Emlyn’s report, Klein almost blurted the words aloud.

Similar words had once been spoken when he was Gehrman Sparrow, but the feelings in those two situations were completely different.

Based on the bounty of Fancy Bow Tie Jodson, third mate of the Golden Dream, Klein had estimated that similar mystical items would cost around 5,000 pounds. Even with a premium, it should at most reach 6,000 pounds. Who could have known that Leonard Mitchell would directly demand 7,000 pounds?

Could it be an item left behind by a higher Sequence, and stealing another person’s Beyonder abilities is only one of its effects? No. If that were true, the price would start at 10,000 pounds no matter what… Poet, how did I never know before that you were such a profiteer? You clearly always acted free and easy, not caring much about money… Klein could not help sighing a few times.

Now that he had already found a clue, seen the dawn, and could solve it with money, Klein did not want to search for other channels and risk further accidents.

He quickly calculated his current assets and discovered that the price was still within what he could bear:

“Counting the 300-pound advance from the Apothecary, the 5,400-pound bounty from the Silver-Tongued, and the money looted from the corpse, then deducting the 200-pound payment owed to Miss Magician, I currently have 12,767 pounds in banknotes plus five gold coins, not counting 3 soli and 8 pence in loose change.

“Also, before the end of this week, Miss Justice will pay the 2,000 pounds she owes and the 1,800 pounds for the Psychiatrist characteristic. I am much wealthier than I imagined. Even in Backlund, I would count as a rich man.”

Klein inhaled, hesitated no longer, and made a stack of banknotes fly from the top of the pile of miscellaneous items and land upon the table.

He carefully counted out 7,500 pounds in cash and placed it aside—7,000 pounds for the mystical item, and 500 pounds as Emlyn’s “risk” fee.

Sigh. After struggling so hard to exceed ten thousand, I lose more than half of it in one stroke… Klein materialized The World and had him make a praying gesture, informing Emlyn that there was no problem, and that in fifteen minutes, they would hold the ritual and accept the bestowment transferred through Mr. Fool.

In addition, Klein had The World remind The Moon Emlyn that after receiving the cash, he should not hurry to complete the transaction and must wait until tomorrow. He feared that the Zoroast family angel parasitizing Leonard Mitchell might detect the aura of the gray fog on the banknotes, and he wanted a process of “letting the smell dissipate,” just as when he had given Emlyn that badge.

Fifteen minutes later, Klein glanced at the remaining gold pounds, whose thickness had decreased by far more than half, sighed, and returned to the real world.

By then, it was already 10:40 a.m. on Friday, about eight hours before the passenger liner would reach Oravi Island.

It is time to intimidate the Die of Probability again… Klein muttered to himself, held a ritual, and brought out the iron cigarette case containing the All-Black Eye.

He could guess what suspicions the fat Apothecary Darkwill might have, so he deliberately brought the die into the washroom to handle it.

Seeing the Die of Probability quiet down again, Klein quickly dealt with the All-Black Eye and the iron cigarette case. He let out a long breath and silently calculated the time:

“It should last until we hand it to Darkwill’s contact. There is no need to do anything else.”

At that thought, Klein then worriedly considered another problem:

“The All-Black Eye has appeared before the True Creator and still contains His mental corruption. By taking it out every few hours like this, perhaps He will lock onto it and send powerhouses to search for it.

“However, each time lasts only one or two minutes. The problem should not be too serious. Even if He detects something, His sense of location should not be too precise. Sigh. Since this involves the True Creator, I cannot use divination to confirm it and can only heighten my guard. Thankfully, this is the last time recently, and we will reach the destination in only seven or eight hours… Why am I setting up a flag for myself? Ptui, ptui, ptui. I did not think anything just now.”

Klein picked up the Die of Probability and returned to the sitting room. He saw the fat Apothecary sprawled listlessly in an armchair, while the owl Harry remained full of energy and seemingly did not need rest.

Is this the difference brought by different creatures taking the same potion? At least Miss Justice never mentioned that she did not need sleep… Is it a special trait caused by an owl’s physiological structure? Sigh. I do not understand it enough. Sure enough, I am only a keyboard expert who knows a little about everything and understands only a little about everything… Klein sat down on the sofa, put the milky-white die into the ring box, and patiently waited for evening, when the ship would enter port.

Time passed second by second. The bright sun overhead gradually shifted west, descending lower and lower.

Just then, Klein, who had closed his eyes to rest, suddenly straightened. He sensed an intense danger about to descend!

This surpassed a Seer’s spiritual intuition and a Clown’s danger premonition, as though originating from the invisible gray fog that had strangely rippled into existence around him.

“An enemy! The Tail Devourer Ouroboros? Or a saint from the Aurora Order?” Klein opened his eyes, his expression extraordinarily solemn as he considered countermeasures.

At a moment like this, if even the slightest mistake occurred, he would have to begin considering matters after resurrection.

As for the fat Apothecary Darkwill and the owl Harry, neither could possibly survive!

At first, he placed his hopes on the idea that whoever had come could only sense vaguely and could only determine a large range, not necessarily finding him or the Die of Probability. But considering this was a ship and the surrounding area was an uninhabited sea, the target did not seem difficult to lock onto. By then, the trouble would be even greater. Klein had no choice but to decisively abandon that hope.

Above the passenger liner, the void abruptly tore open, vaguely revealing an invisible door covered in all kinds of complex symbols.

Two slightly pale hands reached out from the gap in the door and fiercely pulled backward, allowing the entire body to step out.

He wore a black soft hat favored by old men and a classical dark robe. Yet his appearance seemed under forty. His brown hair curled slightly, giving off an unusually hard impression.

Within his dark eyes, countless illusory figures seemed to wander, or perhaps layer upon layer of chaotic worlds were hidden there.

Klein’s sense of danger grew even stronger. The change in his expression alone frightened Darkwill and the owl Harry so much that they did not dare move.

He hesitated no longer. Following the plan he had made over the past few days for similar situations, he leaned forward and picked up the Die of Probability.

“Make a behavior judgment on the malicious person who just arrived. I want one pip!” Klein murmured in a deep voice, throwing the milky-white die. At the same time, he instinctively prayed inwardly to the Goddess, hoping the die, having been intimidated not long ago, would behave and take effect.

Meanwhile, he appeared extremely calm, to prevent the die from sensing his tension and seizing the chance to cause trouble.

Amid crisp collisions, the Die of Probability rolled several times before settling on the red, bloodlike single pip.

Above the passenger liner, the man in the black robe who appeared to be under forty already had the entire ship reflected within his eyes.

He spread his spirituality and swept it across the area once. Then he reached out, grabbed the void before him, and violently pulled open an almost invisible door.

This powerful figure stepped inside and vanished from where he stood.

Inside the first-class cabin, Klein immediately felt the danger recede, and uncontrollably let out a quiet breath of relief.

Gazing at the Die of Probability on the tea table, he could not help sighing inwardly:

“If this die did not have such huge negative effects and could be fully utilized, it would simply be a divine artifact!

“As expected of a Grade 0 Sealed Artifact. As expected of the Uniqueness of the Monster pathway…”

“What—what happened just now?” The fat Apothecary Darkwill finally regained his courage and carefully asked.

Klein maintained his posture and calmly replied, “You do not need to know.”

“I understand, I understand. The more you know, the more dangerous it gets.” Darkwill wiped away the cold sweat on his head.

Over the next few hours, no further accidents occurred. When the sun sank below the horizon and the sky had turned completely dark, Klein finally saw a tall lighthouse appear not far away.