Chapter 153: Meeting

Chapter 153: Meeting

The smell of canned wolf-fish really was overpowering… Not only did it stink, it was nauseating… It was practically biochemical gas! Klein crouched in a corner and took more than ten seconds before finally returning to normal.

At that earlier instant, he had badly underestimated the odor of canned wolf-fish. He had failed to make the most effective response in time, either by using Paper Figurine Substitution on the spot or creating an invisible tube of air and pretending he was breathing underwater.

Now, he finally understood on a visceral level how wise the decision was to forbid opening canned wolf-fish in public!

Phew… Klein exhaled, slowly stood up, picked up his luggage, and walked step by step out of the docks.

His first impression of the city of Nas was that most of its buildings were white, with stone widely used as construction material. His second impression was that, although it was not located particularly far north, the weather was still quite cold. Even in April, the temperature hovered only around a few degrees Celsius. His third impression was that whaling houses were everywhere. Enormous white whales were being broken down inside them into hide, meat, fat, bone, and “gray amber.”

Of the latter two, one could be used for making the cage frames of banquet gowns, while the other was a top-grade spice. Whether used as incense or blended into perfume, both were luxuries only nobles and magnates could enjoy.

As for the hide, flesh, and fat of white whales, they had their own uses as well. They could be made into clothing, food, and oil respectively. In Nas, and throughout the Gargas Islands, the cooking of white whale had already developed into a distinct culture, with all sorts of techniques and famous restaurants.

Klein passed one whaling house after another. He saw masses of separated fat loaded onto cargo carriages and carried toward a nearby factory that was belching black smoke. It was a refinery with unmistakable Gargas characteristics. There, white whale fat would be rendered into whale oil, bottled or barreled, becoming excellent fuel and the lifeblood of certain industries.

Quite distinctive… Klein exhaled white mist and paused to watch for a while.

After leaving the port and entering the city proper, waves of noisy Feysac entered his ears.

Having mastered ancient Feysac, the source language of the Northern Continent, Klein was long familiar with the speech of the northern barbarians. Hearing the commotion, he turned his head and looked over, seeing one tall, fair-haired local after another carrying banners as they marched through the street.

The banner at the very front clearly stated their demand:

“Oppose the excessive hunting of white whales. We need sustainable development!”

Pfft… Klein nearly lost composure. He immediately believed there was a ninety-nine percent chance that the concept of “sustainable development” had been “invented” by Emperor Roselle.

His gaze shifted to the banners behind it, and he came to understand the purpose of the protest even more clearly:

“Hunt whales for survival, not for pleasure!”

“Humans are no nobler than white whales!”

“Greedy devils, leave Nas!”

At that moment, policemen in gray uniforms appeared, carrying shields, long forks, and clubs, blocking the protestors from advancing.

After a brief quarrel, the situation quickly grew intense.

Quite a few young people among the protestors hurled opened cans of wolf-fish and bottles of strong liquor stuffed with lit strips of cloth. The police no longer restrained themselves either. They pushed back with shields and struck out with clubs.

Klein pinched his nose, glanced at the flames burning in the street, and discovered that many passersby were wholly unmoved. Aside from a small number who stopped to watch, the rest continued toward their destinations as usual.

Looks like this happens often in Nas… Has every protest here evolved into a clash? As expected of the Feysac Empire… Klein muttered a few words, went around the street, and casually found a hotel to stay in.

He still registered under the name Gehrman Sparrow. He was not at all worried that the information spread by Vice Admiral Ailment Tracy would lead the Church of the Evernight Goddess to treat him as a Faceless, because he had no intention of searching for the mermaids who had already become believers of the Goddess along the whaling route. He planned to head straight for the dangerous region at the easternmost end of the Sonia Sea.

As for his safety in the Gargas Islands, that was even less of a concern. This place was a colony of the Feysac Empire. The only legal religious organization here was the Church of the God of Combat, and they were extremely hostile toward the Church of the Evernight Goddess.

Klein had originally worried that he would encounter large numbers of Faceless here—the kind where he might run into seven or eight of them while simply going next door to eat whale cuisine. But after thinking seriously, he ruled out that possibility on rational grounds.

First, Beyonders of the Seer pathway were rare to begin with. Above Sequence 8, Klein had only met three so far. Second, Sequence 6 Beyonders were not weeds that could be found anywhere. Even in this paradise for pirates, bounties reaching five thousand pounds were rare creatures. Third, Faceless who had made preparations would all board whaling ships in search of mermaids. From there, they would either begin believing in the Goddess, sink to the bottom of the sea or become research subjects, or be intelligent enough to seize a chance, advance successfully, and leave safely. Very few would linger too long in the Gargas Islands.

In all of Nas, excluding me, there probably won’t be more than two Faceless… Klein straightened his clothes and, in a good mood, did not hurry to contact Admiral of Stars Cattleya. Instead, he went out into the streets, following what he had heard during his travels to search for local delicacies.

Raw white whale slices, fried whale steaks, whale oil with skin, roast whale meat… Like a proper traveler, Klein changed restaurants three times and sampled different foods.

Not bad. Quite distinctive. The fishy smell isn’t strong; it’s actually rather appetizing and enticing… Burp… Klein covered his mouth and stepped into the street. He noticed that streetlamps here were sparse, but the houses on both sides were brightly lit, easing the darkness of night to a certain extent.

Cold wind blew across the sea, making Klein raise a hand and pull up his collar. The azure cufflink had drawn in its glow and now sat quietly and darkly at his wrist.

Compared to a ring, an item like a cufflink better fit the image of Gehrman Sparrow. Therefore, Klein did not blame the Artisan for changing his request without permission.

The harmonica that had solidified the ritual for summoning a spirit world creature fully matched Klein’s intentions. It could be used for a year and a half, was wholly silvery-white, and looked refined and beautiful.

When he had first received the harmonica, Klein had imagined such a scene: a powerful yet crazy adventurer, on a quiet night beneath deep moonlight, leaning against the side of a ship and playing a sorrowful melody on the harmonica.

Unfortunately, this harmonica could not produce any sound at all. It could only be used to summon Reinette Tinekerr.

Shaking his head almost imperceptibly, Klein walked steadily through the empty, cold streets of Nas and returned to his hotel.

After using sleep to adjust his condition, he arrived the next morning at Gray Amber Street and entered a general store named Frenzied Whale Dance.

Glancing at the gray-haired owner, who was a head taller than him, Klein bent a finger and lightly rapped on the counter, speaking in Feysac.

“I’m buying whale oil.”

The owner’s face was crisscrossed with wrinkles, yet he wore only a single coat made of white whale hide. Its pale patterns possessed an unusual beauty.

“How much?” The owner was drinking strong liquor in big mouthfuls, paying no attention to the disorderly arrangement of his goods.

“One and a quarter barrels,” Klein answered according to the agreed code.

The owner’s drinking slowed at once. He planted the brown-green bottle in his hand onto the counter.

“Want a sip? The purest Nipos. Every Feysac man’s mistress!”

This was Feysac’s local distilled liquor, brewed from potatoes or grains. It was famed for its high proof and flame-like stimulation. Compared with Sonia blood wine, it was quite cheap and far more popular among ordinary Feysacians.

“No.” Klein shook his head.

The owner gave a low chuckle.

“What kind of man doesn’t drink Nipos?

“Has Loen only women left?”

He gulped down another mouthful and asked, “Who sent you?”

“Madam Geltmus,” Klein said, giving a name with strangely mixed stylistic origins.

The owner suddenly exhaled. A heavy scent of alcohol immediately lingered in the air.

He swayed to his feet like a white bear performing in a circus.

After instructing the shop assistant, he led Klein all the way to a small room on the second floor of the warehouse behind the shop.

“Let me find it, let me find it…” the owner muttered as he crouched down.

Klein controlled the twitching of his face and recalled a joke widely circulated in the Loen Kingdom:

Question: When is a Feysac man not drunk?

Answer: While he is still in his mother’s womb.

After waiting for a while, Klein saw the owner rummage out a pure crystal ball.

Then, with his back to Klein, the drunk “white bear” rubbed the crystal ball with both hands and began murmuring in difficult and awkward Ancient Hermes.

The room gradually dimmed. All the unlit corners suddenly deepened, seeming to emit a strange attraction.

The crystal ball rapidly lit up, revealing the figure of a woman wearing a black classical robe.

She had an oval face, very fair skin, and dark eyes that were slightly tinged with purple, brimming with mystery.

I’ve seen the real appearance of another Tarot Club member… Klein stepped forward and took the crystal ball.

On the other side of the crystal ball, The Hermit Cattleya likewise saw The World clearly: black hair, brown eyes, a thin face, and sharply defined features.

Her gaze focused slightly. After hesitating for one second, she opened her mouth.

“Gehrman Sparrow?”

She discovered that the true strength and level of Tarot Club members were far higher than she had imagined. The World was actually Gehrman Sparrow, the crazy hunter on the level of a pirate admiral!

My previous judgments about The World were correct… restrained, deep, experienced, and ruthless in method… Admiral of Stars felt that she was not especially surprised.

“Yes, Madam Cattleya.” Klein gestured for the owner to leave the room.

Only after the place became exceedingly quiet did Admiral of Stars Cattleya speak again.

“I’m quite curious. How did you recognize my identity? I’ve always been very careful when attending the gathering.”

Back then, when The World requested a private conversation and opened by calling her Admiral of Stars, he had truly startled her.

That was also one of the reasons she had chosen to accept The World’s commission.

“A secret.” Klein smiled politely.

Because he did not want the other party to associate the matter with Mr. Fool, he calmly added, “Your eyes are very distinctive.”

“May I take that as a compliment?” Cattleya smiled, as though enlightened.

She believed that The World had only suspected her of being Admiral of Stars based on details like her eyes, but was not actually certain. He had then tested her through his words, and her reaction had given him the correct answer.

Klein did not respond further and instead asked, “When do we set out?”