Chapter 222: Convergence Effect

Chapter 222: Convergence Effect

Eight o’clock at night, Harvest Church.

Klein, who had already changed back into his normal outfit, quietly looked around by pressing the brim of his top hat, then stepped into the hall and walked toward Emlyn White, who stood before three rows of candlelight on the right.

At the vampire’s feet was a black suitcase. Its surface seemed covered by a layer of “spirituality wall.”

Sensing Sherlock Moriarty enter, Emlyn first showed joy, then immediately revealed a guarded expression.

He bent to grab the suitcase and retreated several steps diagonally backward, drawing closer to Father Utravsky, who was praying with full concentration.

He’s afraid I’ll snatch the Beyonder materials by force… Klein stopped three meters away and said with a smile, “Let me verify first whether those are the two materials I need.”

Emlyn White reached up to smooth his hair, raised the suitcase to chest height, and undid the latch with a snap.

The “spirituality wall” shattered immediately, turning into a light breeze that swept through the prayer hall.

Klein, who had already activated his spirit vision, immediately saw waves of strange, dazzling radiance—the spiritual brilliance released by numerous Beyonder characteristics.

Inside the suitcase were two small boxes. One was made of white tin, carved with many patterns, ancient and heavy; the other was a simple cardboard box.

Holding the black suitcase with one hand, Emlyn opened the dull silver-white tin box. Inside was an item resembling a walnut stripped of its shell. It was yellowish brown, with raised and sunken patterns like the grooves of a brain.

As the candle flame swayed, it constantly changed shape. At times it became grayish white and developed wrinkles; at times it became dark brown and extremely smooth; at times the two colors intertwined, outlining a “face” without features.

The moment he saw it, Klein felt the potion power that he had already completely digested and assimilated stir slightly, like a magnet encountering its opposite pole.

He used his Clown abilities to control his body, suppressing the feeling of mutual attraction. Inwardly, he already understood that this was the genuine mutated brain pituitary gland of a Thousand-faced Hunter.

It seems Emperor Roselle’s guess in his diary is quite possibly correct: High-Sequence items of the same pathway intermittently and unconsciously attract mid- and low-Sequence Beyonders toward them, and they tend to gather together… Although the Thousand-faced Hunter’s mutated brain pituitary gland is still very far from High Sequence and does not possess that wondrous attraction, its Beyonder characteristics are already highly concentrated. Combined with the fact that I have already digested the Sequence 7 potion, when the two are close enough, similar signs appear…

I did not notice it before because, first, the corresponding Beyonder materials were of low grade, and second, my own strength was poor and my Sequence was not high enough… Right. Every time I digest a potion, there seems to appear around me an illusory starry sky, containing many points of brilliance. They attract one another, trying to draw closer… Perhaps this is the image of the law of convergence among Beyonder characteristics within the same pathway. And the greater the “mass,” the stronger the gravitational pull…

Then, do Beyonder characteristics of neighboring pathways follow this law as well?

Klein’s expression did not change as he recalled the records from Roselle’s diary and combined them with his own three potion-digestion experiences, roughly confirming the existence of a certain law.

Emlyn White glanced at him warily, swiftly closed the tin box, and opened the cardboard box beside it.

The inside of the cardboard box was padded with dense cotton. At the center lay a glass bottle capable of holding 200 milliliters of liquid. Half of it was empty, while the rest flowed with a viscous, watery substance that could alter its own color according to the light.

“Any more questions?” Emlyn closed the cardboard box.

“I’ll confirm once more.” Klein took out a gold coin and let it spin and leap between his fingers, as though it had gained life of its own.

Clink!

The coin bounced up, then fell down, spreading open on Klein’s palm.

This time, the portrait faced upward, indicating an affirmative result.

Klein nodded lightly and took out stack after stack of banknotes from different pockets of his clothes. There were ten-pound notes, five-pound notes, and one-pound notes.

“1,450 pounds.” Klein piled the cash high and placed it on the nearby table and chairs.

“Step back a few paces. No, five paces!” Emlyn shouted cautiously.

Klein smiled, lifted both hands, and took five steps backward.

Emlyn carefully approached and checked whether there was any blank paper mixed into the cash.

After a brief count, he threw the suitcase in his hand toward the trading partner.

Klein was startled, but with agile movements and accurate judgment, he caught the suitcase.

He feared that the glass bottle might shatter and allow the Thousand-faced Hunter’s blood to seep out.

Meanwhile, Emlyn White seized this opportunity to gather the banknotes and quickly retreat to Father Utravsky’s side.

Only then did he breathe out in relief and begin carefully checking the amount and authenticity of the money.

Seeing this scene, Klein could not help savoring the image from earlier, and suddenly felt somewhat ashamed.

He and Emlyn had turned a perfectly good Mother Earth church into something like the scene of an arms or drug transaction…

After confirming the condition of the two materials, Klein snapped his fingers, igniting the matchsticks he had deliberately separated into his clothes pocket. The abruptly rising crimson flames engulfed him.

When the flames fell back, he had already vanished.

Because he often met Emlyn White in Harvest Church, he no longer minded Father Utravsky knowing that he was the Beyonder who had helped him purge his dark personality. He even felt this might help build a little connection.

Emlyn, who had been counting the banknotes, looked up and saw this scene. He froze for a full two seconds.

His lips moved as he murmured softly, “My suitcase…

“My tin box…”

…

On a street illuminated by gas lamps, a carriage rolled through layer upon layer of puddles, heading toward the edge of Queen Borough.

Fors had already told her good friend Xio Derecha about how she had gained a teacher and taken another Apprentice potion.

After confirming that Fors showed no signs of losing control, Xio looked at the gas street lamp outside, which was much taller than herself, and asked in puzzlement, “I’ve always found it strange. Why keep things in the form of materials instead of potions? Your teacher could have prepared the potion in advance and brought it over, instead of busying himself with mixing it on the spot.”

Fors gave a faint smile.

“I asked him that question. He said there were mainly two reasons. First, different Beyonder materials can have different uses, and once they are mixed into a potion, there is no longer any flexibility. Second, when Beyonder characteristics are solidified, they can be preserved indefinitely, but once they become potions, that is no longer the case—unless one has a special isolation technique.”

“Why?” Xio asked in surprise. “It isn’t like ordinary medicine or Beyonder weapons, where spirituality constantly disperses and weakens.”

Fors had no desire to smile, but still had to keep smiling.

“It isn’t a problem of the characteristic leaking away. Once Beyonder materials become a potion, not only can humans absorb them, but other creatures and even lifeless materials can as well, though relatively much more slowly. For example, if I store a potion in a glass bottle, it may seem fine, but perhaps after a few days, that glass bottle will have completely ‘drunk’ the potion and become a special mystical item. It might even develop a certain intelligence because of this. Of course, my teacher said this situation comes with severe side effects and is no different from the remains of someone who lost control.

“The seven Churches and certain hidden powers have mastered special isolation techniques, but those are quite troublesome and would not be used on low- or mid-Sequence potions.”

“How wondrous!” Xio sighed from the heart.

She glanced outside again and lowered her voice.

“We’re almost there.”

She and Fors had come to attend the Beyonder gathering convened by Mr. A.

Fors smiled as though her heart were being cut by knives.

“I hope there will be a Spirit Eater’s stomach pouch.”

Before leaving, her teacher Dorian Gray had taught her the acting method and given her the Trickmaster potion formula, telling her to try searching for the Beyonder materials herself. If she still could not gather them after digesting the Apprentice potion, she could write to him for help.

This left Fors in a bewildered state:

“Then what exactly did I spend so much money buying the Trickmaster formula and acting method for?”

“So far, the most useful and irreplaceable help the Tarot Club has given me is the precautions taught by Mr. Hanged Man and Miss Justice, along with Mr. Fool’s interference in divination. Otherwise, my teacher would have discovered the problem long ago, and I would not have become his student…”

“Sigh. I’ll treat it as the price paid to offset the full moon curse…”

As her thoughts turned, Fors suddenly noticed that the house where Mr. A held his gatherings had visibly collapsed. Many areas were even marked with blackened traces.

There was an intense battle here… Who is dealing with Mr. A? An official organization? Fors immediately signaled Xio and instructed the driver outside, “Not here. Two more streets ahead.”

…

“Aurora Order Stronghold Discovered; Terrorist Organization Suffers Heavy Blow”

The next morning, as soon as Klein opened the newspaper, he saw that headline.

“I wish Mr. A had died in that encirclement.” Solemnly, he drew a crimson moon over his chest.

He had already thrown the mutated brain pituitary gland and blood of the Thousand-faced Hunter he had obtained through the previous night’s transaction above the gray fog, ensuring that they could not be lost.

Even if I die, they won’t disappear… Klein felt completely reassured as he speared a slice of bacon and chewed it.

After that transaction, his cash had fallen back below 1,000 pounds. Only 735 pounds remained. That was enough to buy the Deep-sea Naga’s hair, but he no longer had enough to also cover the Human-skinned Shadow’s characteristic.

With neither better clues nor enough money, Klein rested at home for the entire morning. Only after lunch did he dress properly and go out, heading straight for the Backlund Bridge area.

He had previously agreed with Carlson of the Machinery Hivemind that, if he had any intelligence, he would go to the Lucky Bar near the West Balam Dockyard to find him. If the information was especially important and Carlson was absent, he would go directly to the Leverage Church instead. After all, Sherlock Moriarty was not a member of any secret organization and did not need to act cautiously.

In the afternoon, the Lucky Bar did not have many customers. With one glance, Klein saw Carlson sitting alone in a corner by the bar, drinking.

He walked over, knocked on the table, and reported in a lowered voice, “Many people in the East Borough are spreading belief in the Primordial Creator.”

Carlson drank his pure malt beer and answered noncommittally, “I know.”

As expected… Klein muttered inwardly, then smiled.

“I have a clue regarding a noble mausoleum from the Fourth Epoch.”

“Ah?”

Carlson froze with his glass in hand, turning his head in astonishment to look at Klein while instinctively pushing up his thick glasses.

But he discovered that Detective Sherlock Moriarty did not describe what came next. Instead, the detective looked toward the bartender several steps away and said leisurely, “A glass of Southville beer.”