Chapter 155: Not Playing by the Rules

Chapter One Hundred Fifty-Five
Not Playing by the Rules

Inside the ancient, majestic palace, stone pillar after stone pillar held up the towering dome.

Klein sat at the highest seat of the bronze long table, holding the semitransparent brown bottle. He examined it repeatedly several times, yet received no dangerous premonition.

Let us begin…

He manifested paper and pen and wrote down the divination statement:

“Its origin.”

After setting down the fountain pen and mentally bracing himself for a direct impact, Klein gazed once at the paper and the Biological Toxin Bottle, then leaned back against his chair, silently reciting as he meditated.

Before long, he entered a gray, hazy dream and saw a dim yet spacious room.

Inside the room hung specimens of animals such as king cobras and black widow spiders, while many strange plants were placed everywhere. The entire place was disorderly and unnerving.

A serious middle-aged man in a white coat stood before the long table at the center. One by one, he tossed things like snake gallbladders and spider poison glands into a great black iron cauldron hanging from the ceiling.

At the end, he even placed several items carrying powerful spiritual brilliance inside. For example: a lung-like object that sometimes scattered into black gas and sometimes condensed into a dark-green physical form; a tube of clear, azure liquid; a fiery-red eye…

The air around the great black iron cauldron gradually turned viscous. It converged toward the very center, yet was repeatedly pushed away, unable to do as it wished.

Seeing that scene, the white-coated middle-aged man’s brows slowly furrowed, and a hint of anxiety appeared in his expression.

He flipped through the black notebook beside him, gritted his teeth, and used a ritual silver dagger to cut open his wrist.

Drop after drop of vivid blood fell into the black iron cauldron. Whatever was inside seemed to suddenly come alive, erupting with terrifying suction that swallowed all the viscous air nearby and even drew in the crimson blood that had not yet fully left his wrist.

And this was not the end. No matter how the white-coated middle-aged man struggled and resisted, no matter how fear twisted his face, he could not stop himself from being dragged uncontrollably toward the iron cauldron.

His body was stretched long. His head was compressed. Amid his screams, the iron cauldron devoured him bit by bit.

The specimens hanging around the room, the plants placed about, and every object that could move or be moved all flew into the cauldron.

Brown mist abruptly spread through the room, quietly flowing and rippling.

When everything ended, the entire room had become empty. Only a semitransparent brown bottle lay quietly in the center of the open floor.

…

The scene quickly faded. The dream shattered in an instant. Klein opened his eyes and silently muttered to himself:

“So the Biological Toxin Bottle was the product of a death-seeking experiment.

“I thought it was the Beyonder characteristic left behind by some person who lost control… If that were the case, I could have divined the formula…”

To Klein, the spirituality and Beyonder characteristics of those who had lost control, as well as spirituality and Beyonder characteristics contaminated by evil gods, could all be used to divine potion formulas—just like the All-Black Eye left behind by Marionettist Rosago. This was because he had the gray fog to sever connections, this mysterious space to eliminate negative influences, and ample capital for courting death. Of course, if a Beyonder characteristic had been mixed with too many extra factors, then even though it was theoretically possible, the failure rate would be extremely high. It was only after advancing to Magician that Klein had gained a little confidence in the attempt.

Likewise, Sealed Artifacts formed directly from similar Beyonder characteristics could also be used to divine potion formulas.

But if those characteristics were merely used as main materials and, through the work of Artisans or certain dangerous experiments, turned into mystical items, then Klein’s current divination level was helpless. Even with the enhancement of the mysterious space above the gray fog, it would not work.

“Not bad. At least I no longer need to worry about the Biological Toxin Bottle having some other hidden danger…”

Klein glanced at the Werewolf fang, rationally abandoning his curiosity.

…

Queen’s Borough, inside Earl Hall’s luxurious villa.

Audrey continued her study of psychology.

At her feet, the golden retriever Susie crouched there, eyes bright and intent. From time to time, she even wagged her tail, seeming to enjoy the lesson very much.

Having finished explaining the introductory portion, the psychiatrist Islant casually brought up another subject as though it had only occurred to her.

“Actually, there is another theory.

“It believes that humans inherit a certain consciousness from their ancestors, from past generations of people, which forms the underlying logic of their behavioral patterns. For example, many people have never seen a venomous snake before, yet the moment they encounter one, they instinctively feel fear and want to avoid it.

“Why is that? It is because we have inherited feelings from earlier generations of humanity, buried in the deepest parts of consciousness. In ancient times, humans constantly fought venomous snakes and all kinds of fierce beasts, gradually engraving those memories into consciousness and passing them down.”

“How are they inherited?” Audrey asked with considerable interest.

Islant, whose long hair reached her waist, smiled.

“That is a very good question.

“Some explain it this way: at the lowest layer, every person’s consciousness is in truth connected, integrated into one whole. The traces and traits left behind there influence upward, affecting the consciousness unique to each individual.

“To give an example, the lowest layer of consciousness is like a boundless sea. The unique consciousness belonging to each of us is like island after island upon that sea. Each island can be divided into two parts: the larger, greater subconscious hidden below the water, and the surface consciousness above the sea that we can usually perceive.

“This is part of the theoretical foundation of this psychological school.”

Audrey glanced at Susie and stroked the golden fur on the dog’s neck.

“So, we can use the sea connecting us all to influence another person’s consciousness, achieving—achieving the goal of treating certain mental illnesses?”

Is this the mystical foundation and Beyonder ability of a Psychiatrist? But it still seems not quite enough. It feels as though something is missing—for instance, the sky overhead, the sky that envelops everything?

Audrey thought with an expression that appeared both confused and curious.

“You truly are talented in this field!”

Islant praised her with pleasant surprise. “But we can only influence the surrounding waters, then use them to influence people nearby. If we rashly go deeper and explore the distant ocean, it is very easy to lose ourselves.”

She lifted her head and looked at the ornate wall clock, then smiled.

“Time is up. Today’s lesson ends here, Miss Audrey. If you are interested in this school of psychology, we can continue discussing it next time.”

“All right.”

Audrey rose and curtsied.

As she watched the other woman leave, she nodded thoughtfully.

Miss Islant does not seem like a true Psychiatrist. At most, she should be like me—a Telepathist…

What she just explained is the theoretical foundation of the Psychology Alchemists?

They really can keep their patience. Why have they still not recruited me into the organization…

While Audrey’s thoughts surged, Susie happily said from beside her:

“Audrey, I feel like she is the same kind of person as us—no, the same kind of dog. No, that is not right either… Woof!”

Having only preliminarily grasped human language, Susie fell into confusion at once, unable to find precise words to describe what she felt.

…

South Borough of the Bridge, Rose Street, outside Harvest Church.

Dressed normally, Klein looked up at the Sacred Emblem of Life on the outer wall. Holding his cane, he climbed the steps and crossed through the doors.

The first thing he needed to do was confirm the situation.

Only that way could he perform better—cleverly rescuing the vampire Emlyn White without arousing suspicion, then, as the detective who had provided the clue, accepting the White family’s gratitude and receiving the audience’s applause.

This would be an interesting performance.

Harvest Church was not large. It had only one prayer hall. Klein found a seat near the aisle, removed his hat, and looked toward the front.

Bishop Utravsky was giving a sermon. His height of over two meters twenty and the robust physique that even loose clerical robes could not hide gave people an enormous sense of pressure.

Yet his expression was exceptionally gentle, carrying praise and gratitude toward life.

Before such a “priest,” no one dared make noise. The few believers present quietly listened, occasionally making the unique prayer gesture of the Church of the Earth Mother.

Klein observed carefully and waited patiently, neither arrogant nor restless.

When the sermon ended, he gripped his cane and prepared to rise for the next step.

At that moment, from the door leading to the rooms behind the church, a man wearing the priest robes of the Church of the Earth Mother entered.

He looked around twenty-eight or twenty-nine, with black hair, red eyes, a high nose bridge, and thin lips. Handsome yet not sufficiently masculine, he was none other than Emlyn White.

Klein’s mouth slowly opened, almost failing to close.

Isn’t this fellow supposed to be locked up in the basement?

Wasn’t he always shouting about maintaining his beliefs and absolutely refusing to submit to Bishop Utravsky’s ideas?

Emlyn White distributed the items related to communion to each believer, finally stopping before Klein.

Thoughts flashed rapidly through Klein’s mind. He immediately lowered his voice and said:

“You are Emlyn White, correct? Your parents entrusted my friend to find you.

“Why are you here? Did something happen to you? Do you need help?”

Emlyn White no longer had that distinctive arrogance. He showed a smile only slightly better than crying.

“No need. I will be able to go home very soon.”

He pressed his lips together, shook his head, and forced out a smile.

“I am already a believer of the Mother Goddess—no, a priest.”

This answer was completely beyond Klein’s expectations. For a moment, he truly did not know how to respond. He could only shout repeatedly inside his head:

Hey, last time at Harvest Church, you were still extremely firm about worshiping the moon and absolutely refusing to convert to the Earth Mother. How long has it been, and you have already yielded?

That was far too fast!

Where is your persistence? Where is your integrity?

My carefully prepared performance was forced to end before it even began…

This—this is not playing by the rules!

Klein opened his mouth, then suddenly noticed that something was not right.

Why did Emlyn White tell me about his conversion?

I am only a detective who happened to discover him while passing by…

Does he want me to carry these words to his parents?

Is another meaning hidden inside?

Just as Klein was guessing at the reason, Emlyn White put away his sorrow and smiled smugly.

“Detective, you do not need to act.

“Or should I call you the new owner of the Master Key?

“Heh-heh. To a noble Sanguine, everyone has a different scent and a different characteristic to their blood. Even though I was locked in the basement at the time, I smelled you and remembered your scent.”