Chapter 216: All Parties

Chapter 216: All Parties

The gas street lamps lit up the wet ground at night. From time to time, a carriage passed, splashing up a little water.

Backlund was located in the central part of the kingdom, only a few dozen kilometers from the Sonia Sea. It was rainy throughout the year, with frequent light showers. The average high temperature in July was only twenty-eight degrees Celsius, while in winter the lowest temperature stayed around two degrees. It rarely had the chance to fall to “zero,” much less break through it. But that did not stop people from feeling cold here. Even North Feysac people used to living in ice and snow sometimes could not endure the damp chill that seemed able to penetrate clothing, flesh, and blood.

Klein stood in a room where the fireplace had not been lit, behind the bow window, gazing at the peaceful and tranquil scene outside. He felt unusually relaxed in body, mind, and spirit.

As long as he gathered the ingredients and concocted the potion, he could immediately advance to Sequence 6 and become a Faceless.

“The Magician potion has been completely digested… The Apostle of Desire was ended by my own hand and failed to escape… The Aurora Order’s search for the Fool’s believers is still going in circles down a dead end… Aside from not knowing which faction is pursuing Mr. Azik, and matters related to potion ingredients, I temporarily have no worries…” Klein leaned forward and exhaled, watching a layer of white mist condense on the window.

The reason he had taken the risk to intercept the Apostle of Desire was precisely because he feared the other party still had other arrangements, allowing him to shake off the official Beyonders’ pursuit smoothly. If that happened, Klein, who had provided the key suggestion, might be remembered and later retaliated against. As a Coldblooded, a Demon was unlikely to take risks to avenge a companion, but that did not mean they would not vent their anger after having nearly died.

“That action really was necessary. Perhaps members of the Twilight Hermit Order were waiting somewhere to receive him. If the Apostle of Desire had escaped, with no corresponding intelligence, I might only have guarded against him as a Sequence 5 and believed that advancing to Faceless would mean there was no longer much danger. But the Apostle of Desire might very well have used the information provided by the Abyss card and the help of the Twilight Hermit Order to become a High-Sequence powerhouse! Just thinking about that development makes me shudder… A righteous follow-up strike was indispensable…” Klein reviewed the events of that afternoon, summarizing experience and lessons from them.

After admiring the night scenery for a while, he returned to the sofa and sat down, thinking about his next arrangements.

“With the bounty from the Machinery Hivemind, I’ll be able to buy the mutated brain pituitary gland and blood of the Thousand-faced Hunter. I’ll also have enough money for the Deep-sea Naga’s hair. That sort of material should be relatively easy to gather at sea. I can have Mr. Hanged Man help. The only problem left is the characteristic of a Human-skinned Shadow…

“And even if there is a clue, the pounds still won’t be enough…”

Thinking of this, Klein could not help silently mocking himself.

“I’m not essentially someone who especially loves money. It’s only a normal preference. Back in Tingen, I always encouraged Melissa to spend money and kept urging her and Benson to hire a maid, believing that no matter what, one should try not to mistreat oneself. Whenever I took covert action, safety came first, caution was paramount, and I would not let wealth affect my judgment.

“But for revenge, I must raise my Sequence, and to raise my Sequence, I must buy expensive Beyonder materials. I can only save one penny and one soli at a time, economizing wherever I can…”

He suddenly hunched his shoulders slightly, feeling that the damp cold of the living room made even a Magician, who did not excel in physical constitution, shiver.

Thus, he decided to take a bath directly, burrow into bed, and read there.

There are only three or four hours until I should sleep. There’s no point lighting the fireplace now… Klein sighed, stood, and walked toward the second floor.

…

Underground area of the Cathedral of Steam.

Ikanser finished reading all the recorded testimonies, picked up his coffee, and took a sip.

After calming himself for a few seconds, he took out the ancient silver mirror named Arrodes.

Carlson glanced at it and asked with some curiosity, “Deacon, if we ask the honorable Arrodes unsolved mathematical problems or classic paradoxes, will it give the correct answer?”

“Most of the time, it will directly refuse. If it thinks you have malicious intent, it may even strike you with lightning on the spot or make you suffer some curse you absolutely do not want to face,” Ikanser said with a sigh. “It is a living Sealed Artifact with very high intelligence, not a difference engine that rigidly follows rules. When using it, it is best not to think about exploiting loopholes.”

Carlson looked at the surrounding team members and kindly suggested, “Deacon, let me ask for you. I have nothing I need to hide.”

He straightened his back, adopting a frank and honest posture.

Ikanser smiled bitterly.

“There is no need. What should be known is already known. I am no longer afraid of similar questions. Also, the honorable Arrodes occasionally asks rather profound questions. With your physical condition, the punishment afterward would not be so easy to endure.”

After saying this, he first clenched his fist, then opened his five fingers and stroked the surface of the silver mirror three times.

Amid a subtle mistiness, Ikanser spoke in a low voice.

“Honorable Arrodes, my question is: who, or which faction, instructed the Apostle of Desire to assassinate Duke Negan?”

For a short while, the silver mirror showed no change. Only after quite some time did water-light ripple over it, sketching out a painting-like scene.

It was a plain under the sun that was about to set. Pale-golden afterglow covered vast fields.

“What does this mean?” Carlson and the other Machinery Hivemind members looked at one another, completely unable to understand it. Even though there were Beyonders among them who had advanced from Mystery Pryers and were no strangers to interpreting revelations.

“Twilight? A symbol of life moving toward its end? A cult that believes in Death, or madmen who believe in the apocalypse?” one Mystery Pryer said after careful consideration.

Carlson nodded in agreement.

“I think it’s the latter.”

Ikanser paid no attention to their discussion, because Arrodes’s question had already surfaced:

“What is your favorite color of underwear?”

Ikanser’s face suddenly reddened. He felt as though smoke were rising from the top of his head.

With extreme difficulty, he spat out one word.

“Red.”

The room suddenly became abnormally quiet. Carlson and the others acted as though nothing had happened and looked toward the corner.

Ikanser sat down as if exhausted, scratched his fluffy hair, and prepared to ask a second question.

Unable to bear it, Carlson said, “Deacon, let me try once.”

“…Do your best not to enter the punishment stage,” Ikanser finally agreed with a nod.

Carlson confidently imitated the deacon’s movements, stroking the mirror’s surface three times, while the other members gathered around again.

“Honorable Arrodes, my question is: who were the Apostle of Desire’s collaborators?”

Water-light rippled, and the image changed. On the surface of the silver mirror, the first thing shown was the back of a woman with an exceptionally fine figure.

Next came a person so blurred that only from clothing and bearing could one barely judge that he was male.

“So there really was another collaborator. This person should be the one who betrayed information about Duke Negan! What a pity, the other party has made certain preparations…” Carlson said, looking around.

He believed he had no shameful secrets and did not need to care about the follow-up question.

This time, Arrodes gave the options: question, task, or punishment.

Without hesitation, Carlson said, “Question!”

On the surface of the silver mirror, one blood-dripping word after another rapidly formed:

“Do you solve it with your hand every day?”

Carlson’s lips moved, and he felt his ears quickly grow burning hot.

Although he considered this a very normal matter, giving an answer in front of so many teammates and his superior still filled him with the urge to bury his face in the floor.

“Yes…” he answered in an extremely small voice.

…

At the bottom of Saint Samuel Cathedral.

Daly, wearing blue eye shadow, tossed a stack of files in front of Soest the Requiem.

“All case materials you asked for involving tarot cards.”

“Fewer than I imagined,” Soest said, slightly surprised.

Daly gave a heh.

“This is only the index.”

Seeing this, Leonard rubbed his lips with his red-gloved right palm and said, “Captain Soest, why don’t we conduct a deep investigation of the people who had contact with Jason Beria and compare them to the previous two cases? There may very well be clues inside pointing to the organization that uses tarot cards as its symbol.”

“Duke Negan was a devout believer of the Lord of Storms and represented the interests of the Church of Storms in politics. The Mandated Punishers will certainly search for the true culprit like mad. There is no need for us to get involved; that would instead easily create conflict with them. We can investigate other cases involving tarot cards, and perhaps we’ll find new clues. Of course, this will inevitably require us to run around everywhere, but that is precisely the duty of the Red Gloves,” Soest explained with a smile.

Leonard nodded.

“I understand.”

In his mind, however, that slightly aged voice clicked its tongue and laughed.

“The Nighthawks actually missed it just like that. That person has the scent of the Black Emperor on him—the scent of the real Black Emperor!”

…

Inside the Cathedral of the Holy Wind.

The Singer of God, Ace Snake, wearing a black soft hat, swept his silver eyes over the selected elite Mandated Punishers and said, “Although I am about to leave Backlund, that is the decision of the Council of Cardinals.

“Your next mission has only one objective: investigate Duke Negan’s assassination.

“After reporting upward, you have the right to use a Grade 1 Sealed Artifact. You must find out who is targeting us!”

At the very front, a middle-aged man wearing a modified captain’s hat immediately led the others in raising their fists and lightly striking their chests.

“As you command, Your Eminence!”

His build was thin and tough, and his appearance had no distinguishing features, but on his neck was a green-black tattoo in the shape of an anchor.

…

Queen Borough, inside the luxurious villa of Earl Hall.

Audrey looked at Susie, who had opened the door and entered on her own, and lowered her voice.

“What are Father and the others discussing?”

After discovering that Earl Hall had returned very late and that his expression was unusually grave, she had immediately sent Susie, the golden retriever, to slip inside and eavesdrop.

“Duke Negan was assassinated,” Susie said, closing the door with her hind leg.

“Ah?” Audrey froze, suspecting that she had misheard.

Although she had experienced one assassination attempt against Duke Negan, she had never imagined that such an extremely powerful noble would truly die from such a thing.

“It’s true,” Susie confirmed.

Audrey suddenly felt somewhat dazed, as though the matter were not real.

A great noble like that, a duke of flesh and blood who could speak and laugh and had even gifted her a manor, had died just like that?

All at once, she experienced the cruelty and coldness of the adult world.

“Who did it?” Audrey asked subconsciously.

“A Sequence 5 Demon,” Susie answered rather quickly. “But he has already been silenced, by that chivalrous bandit Black Emperor or something.”

“Ah?” Audrey was stunned again.

How could it be the chivalrous bandit Black Emperor? How could it be Mr. Fool’s Blessed?

Last time, He had helped me resolve the danger of Duke Negan being assassinated!

That is completely contradictory!

Audrey immediately instructed Susie to go eavesdrop again, then locked her bedroom door, sat at the edge of her bed, and prayed to Mr. Fool.

After reciting the honorific name and describing Duke Negan’s assassination, she asked with deep trust, “Was Your Blessed at the scene?”

After a while, she saw the boundless gray fog and heard the voice belonging to the Fool:

“Yes.

“He was searching for the organization that instructed the Apostle of Desire.”

So it really wasn’t arranged by Mr. Fool! Last time, He had His Blessed intercept Qilangos for the sake of the organization behind the scenes as well? Audrey relaxed and asked curiously, “What organization is it, that it could draw Your attention?”

A second later, she heard Mr. Fool answer in His usual calm, unruffled tone:

“The Twilight Hermit Order.”