Chapter 3: The Unchanged Gathering

Chapter Three
The Unchanged Gathering

Klein’s first morning in Backlund began with pale fog, a sky of poor visibility, cold damp air, cheap tea costing one penny per liter, and two slices of toast spread with inferior butter.

He had been busy the entire morning. First, he went to the headquarters of the Backlund Post, located right in Cherwood Borough, and spent thirty pounds to reserve a small advertisement for one month.

Starting Tuesday, loyal readers of the Backlund Post would see a tiny notice tucked into the fold between pages seven and eight:

“Sherlock Moriarty, private detective skilled at handling all manner of affairs. Reasonable fees. Strict adherence to confidentiality. Resides at 15 Minsk Street, Cherwood Borough.”

Klein had not chosen large newspapers such as the Tussock Times or the Backlund Daily, which covered the whole Loen Kingdom, because his business would temporarily remain limited to the city of Backlund, and he had no wish for his name to become too well known.

Thus, the Backlund Post, popular locally and inexpensive for advertisements, became his first choice.

After leaving the Backlund Post headquarters, Klein carried a map and visited herb shops, flower shops, jewelry stores, and accessory shops one after another, purchasing different plant powders and thin silver sheets to prepare for ritual work.

Without involving spiritual materials, most mysticism ingredients could be bought in ordinary stores. They simply were not gathered in one place, so he had to run around to many different shops to collect them.

For this, Klein spent another full five pounds. The enormous fortune of two hundred pounds he had withdrawn had already fallen below the hundred mark, leaving only ninety-two pounds.

“Money flows out like water…”

Klein found a small restaurant nearby and ordered an eight-penny steak with black pepper sauce, two and a half pennies’ worth of mashed potatoes with pork sausage, one penny of coffee, and one penny of vegetables. Because the total exceeded one soli, he added another penny and received one extra-value portion of bread with butter.

At one in the afternoon, he returned to 15 Minsk Street. Without taking time to rest, he first spent a while mixing powder from Deep Sleep flowers, dragon’s blood grass, crimson sandalwood, mint, and other herbs into “Holy Night Powder,” a material used to create walls of spirituality.

Until he could purchase a proper ritual silver dagger, this was the only substitute he could make do with.

Klein guessed that he would have to advance to Sequence 7 before he could free himself from restrictions in that area.

“Hoo. Miss Justice, Mr. Hanged Man, and Little Sun have not asked for leave, so today’s gathering will be held on schedule… I wonder what sort of surprise Mr. Hanged Man will bring me. How many pages of Roselle’s diary can he provide…”

Klein lay back on the bed in his bedroom, letting his thoughts drift aimlessly.

To him, private detective was a profession that balanced earning money with freedom of movement. It would allow him to come into contact with people from all sorts of industries, slowly discover Backlund’s Beyonder circles, and gradually find clues to the Secret Order.

Of course, if he was lucky enough, he might even be able to learn directly from some Beyonder circle what the Sequence 7 corresponding to Clown was, and purchase the potion formula and main ingredients.

As for Ince Zangwill’s whereabouts, Klein would not actively search for him for the time being. He might even need to avoid the man somewhat. However, if by chance he discovered that enemy without exposing himself, he would not mind doing a good deed—anonymously sending a letter to the Church of the Evernight Goddess.

“A private detective’s income can at most support a middle-class life. If I want enough money—enough to buy potion formulas and Beyonder materials—one possibility is Miss Justice. Another is making certain investments with the remaining one hundred pounds in the anonymous account… Mm. The ninety-two pounds I have on me cannot be touched for now. Perhaps I will have no income for quite a long period.”

Thinking this, Klein suddenly rolled over and sat up. He went downstairs and began reading the newspapers he had casually bought earlier.

Such newspapers often published various messages: someone had invented some new object and was seeking investment; someone hoped to enter a joint venture and start a certain business.

Relying on his knowledge from Earth and his understanding of the present age, Klein carefully filtered through the projects. Unfortunately, the people who placed advertisements that day were not especially reliable.

At 2:45 in the afternoon, he returned to his bedroom, locked the door, drew the curtains, and used Holy Night Powder to create a wall of spirituality.

Taking four steps counterclockwise, Klein arrived above the gray fog. He sat at the high-backed chair belonging to The Fool, extended his spirituality, and touched the crimson star symbolizing The Sun as though responding to a prayer.

This counts as one of the few unchanged things in my completely changed life…

The thought suddenly stirred in him.

…

Outside the City of Silver, in a certain region, inside a half-collapsed black-gray tower.

Nine patrol team members sat around a blazing fire, chatting about their experiences over this period.

Several other team members stood guard at the perimeter, wary of attacks that might suddenly erupt from the darkness.

An unknown number of Beyonders from the City of Silver had used their blood to teach the same lesson:

One must never relax vigilance. The monsters within the darkness might already be right behind one’s back.

On nights when lightning was infrequent, they had to keep fire burning and light shining. Once they sank completely into darkness, it was not impossible for the entire team to disappear. No one could say what terrible things would happen in pure darkness, because reality had broken through the limits of their imagination again and again.

Derrick Berg maintained reserved silence and quietly listened to his companions recall the monster they had encountered earlier—the humanoid monster covered in eyes.

To resolve that monster, their patrol team had paid the price of five injured and two seriously injured.

Suddenly, Derrick’s vision blurred. He felt as though dense gray fog had surrounded him.

And in the indescribable distance, deep within the fog, a blurred figure sat upon an ancient high-backed chair, looking down at him from above.

“Prepare for the gathering.”

The Fool’s voice echoed in Derrick’s ears, yet none of the teammates around him noticed a thing.

Withdrawing his gaze and observing his surroundings for more than ten seconds, Derrick moved to the edge of the fire, leaned his back against a broken wall, turned sideways to the group, and pretended to sleep.

Ever since discovering that even Elder Lovia, a member of the six-person council, could not detect Mr. Fool’s existence, he had gradually come to believe that as long as he did not carelessly expose certain problems, he could still quietly attend the Tarot Gathering above the gray fog—even beneath the sweep of many eyes.

…

Backlund, Queen’s Borough.

Audrey used fatigue as an excuse and returned to her bedroom.

Suppressing her excitement, she did not pace back and forth. Instead, she sat quietly on her bed and waited for Mr. Fool’s summons.

Father is busy communicating with other members of Parliament about the bills to be submitted. The Beyonder guard is no longer following me every moment. Praise the Goddess, my life has finally returned to normal! Two weeks have passed. Mr. Hanged Man must have prepared the adult Seven-Colored Lizard Dragon pituitary gland… I am about to advance to Sequence 8!

Audrey’s eyes shone brightly as she thought about it.

To her, this was more exciting and more worthy of anticipation than obtaining thirty thousand pounds in bounty and a large plantation worth at least eight thousand pounds.

At last, she saw the familiar illusory crimson radiance surge out like a tide and drown her.

…

On an ancient sailboat.

Alger Wilson locked the door of the captain’s cabin. Sitting behind a sextant and navigation notes, he continuously memorized the contents written on the thick stack of paper before him.

After passing through the investigation period and receiving commendation from the higher-ups, he had not lingered over Backlund’s prosperity. He had taken the initiative to leave that metropolis and return to sea, carrying with him a batch of Roselle’s diary pages he had secretly copied.

“Once I finish digesting the Seafarer potion, I can advance normally. My contributions are sufficient to exchange for the formula and ingredients… But that will expose that I know about the acting method. It has advantages and disadvantages…”

Alger shook his head slightly and abruptly became distracted.

At that moment, he sensed The Fool’s summons. The face of Vice Admiral Hurricane Qilangos suddenly appeared in his mind: flesh and blood rapidly rotting, falling away piece by piece.

Instinctively, Alger lowered his head and allowed the crimson tide to swallow him.

…

Above the gray fog, inside the palace like a giant’s residence.

With spirit vision active, Klein examined Justice, The Hanged Man, and The Sun, confirming their current states.

Audrey was about to greet everyone cheerfully when she suddenly saw The Hanged Man gesture and speak first.

“Mr. Fool, I obtained a total of nineteen pages of Roselle’s diary this time.

“For this, I must thank You for sending Your blessed one to help me eliminate Qilangos. These diary pages are the compensation I ought to pay.”

Nineteen pages? Not bad at all…

Klein did not say much about the matter of his “blessed one.” He smiled calmly.

“This is the principle of equivalent exchange.”

As expected of Mr. Fool… A pirate admiral carrying a mystical item was nothing in His eyes… It seems there is no need for me to mention the bounty… I wonder how many high-Sequence blessed ones Mr. Fool has…

Unknowingly, Audrey had also begun to grow accustomed to using “He” in reference to The Fool.

Hearing The Fool’s reply, Alger said humbly, “My current memorization limit is six pages. Please allow me to give them to You in several batches.”

“No problem.”

Klein, veiled by thick gray fog, nodded gently.

The Sun Derrick watched as The Hanged Man manifested page after page of the diary and felt extremely curious about the contents.

From his previous experiences, he believed that anything Mr. Fool was interested in must contain many mysteries.

He glanced at Miss Justice. Seeing that she had no impulse to ask questions, he prudently maintained his silence.

Before long, six pages were completed and arrived in Klein’s hands.

Audrey and the others began waiting quietly, already accustomed to such matters.

Klein lowered his gaze and began reading the first page.

“December 16th. I once again made contact with that pitiful fellow trapped deep within the storm, lost in the darkness.”

There is finally a continuation of that previous diary page…

Delighted, Klein became even more focused.

“He calls himself Mr. Door. He tried to teach me a complicated and difficult ritual, asking me to help him return to the real world. In return, he promised to satisfy three of my requests.

“Does he think I am an idiot? I have lived for more than sixty years across two lifetimes. How could I fail to recognize the usual tricks of evil gods and demons?

“Still, certain histories of the Fourth Epoch he described truly are fascinating.”