Chapter 147: A Difficult Question

Chapter One Hundred Forty-Seven
A Difficult Question

Klein thought seriously for a while and raised all kinds of guesses within his heart. Yet because he lacked sufficient conditions, he could only temporarily attribute the reason to a difference in the flow of time between Earth and this world.

“The gap of less than a year between Roselle’s transmigration and mine was stretched here into nearly two hundred years. In other words, even if I spend two hundred years before finding a way back, I won’t miss Dad and Mom. At most, I’ll have been missing for just one year…”

Klein made the reverse deduction, and his mood instantly improved by quite a lot. For a moment, he even felt somewhat ambitious and full of drive.

Of course, he himself knew very clearly that this reasoning was not rigorous, because there was only one initial condition, and that condition could not yet be confirmed.

What if Roselle transmigrated after I did? Then perhaps it would involve something like chaotic spacetime currents, and when that time comes, there would be no way to guarantee returning to the proper node…

Klein poured a basin of cold water over his suddenly swelling emotions.

Roselle’s first diary entry had clearly been something he had held back for a very long time. It occupied more than two full pages. Klein turned to the end and began reading the remaining two entries:

“February 25th. What a boring world. There aren’t even newspapers, and there are pitifully few novels! I believe it is necessary for me to carry out a little cultural poverty relief, but the premise of doing that is that I must first get some money and remember the improved papermaking and printing techniques.”

“As a transmigrator, right now I can only rely on the allowance my cheap father and cheap mother give me to maintain my life. I only occasionally see one or two glittering Felkin coins. This truly is a sad story.”

“That said, hunting is rather interesting.”

“February 28th. This world may be a little different from what I understood.”

“Today, because of hunting, I got lost in the woods and ended up witnessing a battle beyond imagination.”

“The man being surrounded actually grew extra eyes on his face—four whole eyes! And from them he fired dark-green beams of light! This, this is damned unscientific! Is he a humanoid monster?”

“So this is actually a fantasy world?”

“The monster’s opponents were even stronger. They summoned pillars of light burning with golden flames. Mm, I think they summoned them…”

“Fortunately, they didn’t discover me. After they dealt with that monster, they took its corpse and left.”

“I, Huang Tao, truly am the protagonist. Only a few days after transmigrating, I already discovered the truth of this world!”

“Perhaps they can identify what the mysterious symbols and patterns on that silver plate mean… Of course, I won’t go ask them. I’m going to become someone like them and crack it myself!”

“There is also one main reason I say this: I damned well can’t remember exactly what those ghost-drawing-like patterns looked like anymore. I can only vaguely recall the general impression.”

Truly the protagonist? Emperor, did you pour the entirety of your chuunibyou soul into your diary?

Klein could not resist roasting him.

He was very interested in the silver plate that was suspected to be the reason for Roselle’s transmigration, and he very much wanted to figure out what the symbols and patterns on it looked like.

If they truly could be interpreted through this world’s mysticism knowledge, then transmigration might not be a matter of coincidence…

Klein put down the diary, tapped the desk with a bent finger, and removed the shielding that The Hanged Man and The Magician had been enjoying.

“You may trade among yourselves,” Klein said with a smile, leaning back against his chair.

The Magician, Fors, quietly drew in a breath.

“I wish to purchase a Spirit Eater’s stomach pouch and twenty milliliters of deep-sea spearfish blood. I will pay in gold pounds.”

I still have 430 pounds. I can afford one of them…

She silently encouraged herself.

As for where the money for the remaining item would come from, she had no solution for the moment.

This is one of the main reasons restricting many Beyonders from advancing… People truly should not attempt consumption beyond their ability. If not for the sake of thoroughly shaking off the influence of the full-moon ravings and becoming a Trickmaster, once I gained comparatively abundant supernatural methods, I would stop considering advancement altogether, perhaps even stop involving myself with this circle. I could write books, save money, drink tea, stroll through the streets with Xio, and, after she finishes that matter, travel to different places across the Northern and Southern Continents—unafraid of danger or accident, properly enjoying life…

Fors’s thoughts suddenly began drifting somewhat.

Just when she thought no one would respond, The Hanged Man, Alger, said in a low voice, “At that previous gathering of great pirates, I saw deep-sea spearfish blood. Unfortunately, you have already missed it. You should have spoken earlier. No, I said that wrong. You had not yet joined the Tarot Club then.”

What is the point of you saying that? Showing off how long you have been here?

Fors secretly curled her lip, then asked solemnly, “Mr. Hanged Man, please help me keep an eye out. I can accept a price between three hundred and four hundred pounds.”

Alger gave a heh.

“The sea is far broader than the land. Pirates may not necessarily encounter one another even once in half a year. Even within the island capitals where they dispose of stolen goods, there will not be any gathering of Beyonder materials.

“Only metropolises like Backlund, Trier, Saint-Milon, and Feynapotter City can draw in large quantities of materials. Judging by your accent, you should be from Backlund—or have lived in Backlund for many years.”

You mean I still have to rely on myself?

Fors nearly looked up toward the towering dome.

At that moment, The Sun, Derrick, spoke.

“I know the approximate activity ranges of several Spirit Eaters.

“But I do not need the gold pounds you speak of.”

…The Magician, Fors, forced out a smile.

“Then what do you want?”

The Solar High Priest potion formula…

Justice Audrey answered first inside her heart.

Derrick thought seriously and said, “The formula for the Solar High Priest potion.”

“That is a Sequence 7 formula, correct? I’ve heard of it. But the formula for that Sequence costs at least 750 pounds, and if you encounter someone who needs it urgently, it can even sell for more than a thousand pounds. A Spirit Eater’s stomach pouch and deep-sea spearfish blood each cost no more than 400 pounds. Most of the time, they are worth only 300 pounds. Do you understand what I mean?” Fors tried to make The Sun understand that this was not an equivalent exchange.

Derrick answered without the slightest hesitation, “I can give you two or three Spirit Eater stomach pouches.”

As for providing deep-sea spearfish blood as well, he had not considered it at all. He had never even seen the sea!

Extra Spirit Eater stomach pouches… What am I supposed to do with them? Roast them? Pan-fry them? If I sell them, who knows when I will be able to sell them off… Most importantly, I cannot afford the Solar High Priest formula right now…

Fors squeezed out a smile.

“I will try to gather it.”

She thought of the masked believer of the Eternal Blazing Sun who was good at purification at Mr. A’s gathering. She thought of the Ring of Light and believed she might be able to obtain clues to the Solar High Priest potion formula there.

But I still do not have enough money…

After thinking for a moment, The Magician, Fors, touched her cheek, looked around, and asked with unusual sincerity, “Everyone, do any of you have a good way to earn money?”

The moment her voice fell, she discovered that everyone simultaneously sank into silence.

Silence was the soundless palace. Silence was the quiet gray fog.

Looks like everyone is troubled by this question, and Mr. Fool does not need money…

Fors wisely closed her mouth.

Isn’t the best way to make money owning pastures, mines, land, factories, shares, and things like that… Mm, you could also go through the kingdom’s wanted notices and complete them one by one according to price and the standards you can bear…

Audrey knew she had no real experience earning money. She could only answer jokingly inside her heart.

Would you like to learn about a bicycle project…

Klein restrained the urge to manipulate The World into speaking. Doing so would expose his real-world identity.

After waiting several seconds, he maintained an unfathomable posture and had The World say in a gloomy, hoarse voice, “Help me pay attention to the mutated brain pituitary gland and blood of a Thousand-faced Hunter, the characteristic of a Human-skinned Shadow, and the hair of a deep-sea naga.”

Though Klein now had only 589 pounds left, he had gained a Werewolf Beyonder characteristic and a Biological Toxin Bottle, and he was considering finding an opportunity to have the former made into a mystical item, then selling one of the two.

And in that case, the cost of one Sequence 6 Beyonder ingredient would be more than covered.

Therefore, he intended to have the Tarot Club members keep an eye out ahead of time, so as not to miss anything.

“All right,” Derrick, The Sun, answered first, but made no promise.

Compared to Spirit Eaters, Human-skinned Shadows and Thousand-faced Hunters were not monsters so easily encountered.

“A Thousand-faced Hunter? I think I have seen its fossil,” Justice Audrey answered after thinking. “Mm, I will confirm it when I return.”

That fossil is in Duke Negan’s treasury.

If it has already become a fossil, perhaps its Beyonder characteristic was taken away long ago…

Klein manipulated The World to nod noncommittally.

After a period of quiet, The Hanged Man, Alger, said, “Please keep an eye out for a person for me. It concerns the colonial slave disappearances I previously mentioned.

“He calls himself Baron. His skin is reddish brown, and he has obvious Southern Continent racial features. But someone accidentally heard him speaking with a Backlund-accented tone.

“The third tooth on his left side is missing, but he may have already had it replaced.

“In addition, his appearance has no distinguishing characteristics, and his height is also quite ordinary.

“If you can discover his trail, payment will not be a problem—at least one hundred pounds, or an equivalent item.”

With such a description alone, even divination would be impossible, let alone finding him in reality…

The Fool, Klein, swept his gaze around once and said, “Free exchange.”

…

After the Tarot Gathering ended, Derrick Berg returned to the real world, once again inside that narrow, dark room.

He cautiously sat for several seconds. Discovering no abnormal changes, he finally let out a complete sigh of relief.

Thinking of Mr. Hanged Man’s suggestion that he try to draw more information from the former exploration team captain, Derrick walked to the corresponding metal wall, bent a finger, and knocked once.

Knock, knock!

He completed the signal. Yet no response came from the other side for a very long while.

Asleep? Or has he been taken to the six-member council?

Derrick looked at that lightless metal wall in puzzlement.

At that moment, from the direction of the bed behind him, an old, drifting voice suddenly came:

“Are you looking for me…”