Chapter 37: Rich Experience in Courting Death

Chapter Thirty-Seven
Rich Experience in Courting Death

“All right.”

Klein nodded solemnly.

Sergeant Fassin touched his own short hair and said, “There are also some additional arrangements. I will explain them to you in detail, and you may decide for yourself.”

His gaze moved toward the living room area.

Klein made an inviting gesture without losing courtesy and watched Sergeant Fassin close the door, walk to the sofa, and sit down.

“What arrangements?” Klein did not remove his coat. Both hands remained in his pockets.

Fassin leaned slightly forward and clasped his hands together.

“You should understand very well that you have provoked that ambassador. Tonight or tomorrow will be the most dangerous stage for you.

“The people above give you three choices. First, stay at Holy Wind Cathedral for two days. I know you are a believer of the God of Steam and Machinery, but Saint Hilran Cathedral is too far away. It would be easy for problems to occur along the way.”

Klein nodded almost imperceptibly, waiting for him to present the second choice.

Suddenly, his vision blurred. His mind went numb. He felt as though a thick layer of glass had appeared around him.

He saw Sergeant Fassin’s mouth opening and closing, but the motion became slow. He discovered that his thoughts were gradually turning sluggish.

That feeling was so familiar that Klein instantly thought of the Antigonus family puppet—Sealed Artifact 2-049.

Back then, he had repeatedly suffered a similar effect, but Captain Dunn Smith and the others had awakened him. To allow others to notice abnormalities in time, they had kept bending and stretching their arms.

The Antigonus family controls the Seer pathway… This person’s abilities are similar to the Antigonus family puppet’s… He is the mid-Sequence Beyonder of the Seer pathway… It really is him…

Klein realized everything in an instant, but this time, there was no Dunn Smith to wake him.

The muscles on Sergeant Fassin’s face began writhing strangely. Very soon, he transformed into a gentleman with black hair and blue eyes, a handsome face, and faint traces of a beard.

With a smiling expression, he said, “Given enough time, this is one of the most difficult abilities to deal with below the high Sequences.”

As he spoke, Klein saw the woman in the black court dress appear on the glass of the oriel window.

Stiff and slow, she stepped out of the glass, moving in halting intervals. Her pale-golden hair, exquisite features, and deathly pale face made her look less like a living person and more like a puppet.

“I did not expect you to be able to hire such a formidable bodyguard. If I had not divined that there was a problem in advance, perhaps I would have died here. What sort of compensation did you pay? Ah, right. My name is Rosago.”

Rosago did not turn around. He smiled at Klein, but clearly did not expect the person under his control to be able to answer smoothly.

At that moment, he suddenly felt a cold wind blow against his neck, chilling him until every hair stood on end and goosebumps rose across his skin.

It was as if an invisible person stood behind him, breathing on the back of his neck.

Rosago laughed and raised his left hand, snapping his fingers.

Snap!

Flames abruptly surged behind him. A transparent shadow burned fiercely, quickly turning to ash.

In Klein’s field of vision, all of those movements were broken into frames.

It was not that the other party had become slow. Rather, his own thoughts had become more and more sluggish.

He has already controlled me… Why not directly… kill me… Do villains all love to talk…? No, he is not a stupid person… He is using talk to conceal something…

Klein struggled to think, searching for the problem, but the rise and fall of his thoughts slowed irrepressibly.

He focused his attention on Rosago, observing every tiny detail of him.

Finally, he saw two figures reflected in Rosago’s eyes: pale-golden hair, blue eyes, a pale face, and a dark-black Gothic court dress.

And at that moment, that woman was still behind Rosago, still near the oriel window, walking toward them in stiff, halting steps, as though manipulated by someone else.

He has not truly controlled her yet… She is still resisting and struggling… They are engaged in a constant tug-of-war in the mystical field… I need to do something, something that tilts the balance…

Klein shifted his attention to the Words of Filth charm held in his left palm. Its cold, slippery sensation brimmed with evil.

He was deeply grateful that he had never relaxed his guard, never stopped maintaining a state where he could fight at any moment.

I can only wound myself and drag the enemy down with me!

Klein gathered his strength and struggled to speak.

His vocal cords seemed to have rotted. His throat moved with such difficulty.

Hoarse, slightly halting, he recited the ancient Hermes word:

“Filth!”

As the sound echoed, Klein felt corrosive pain spread across his left palm. Beside his ears, illusory, layered ravings that could drive a person mad rang out.

This was a state familiar to him, and it did not affect his next attempt.

That attempt was to pour most of his spirituality into the Words of Filth charm—something that did not require coordination from his body.

Three seconds later, the voice of the True Creator would descend upon the material world and pierce into the ear of the living being closest to it.

“Three!”

Like a prelude, noisy, illusory, evil ravings instantly spread outward. Klein’s scalp went numb, and his mind buzzed. He felt his blood vessels beating continuously, and his thoughts became nearly impossible to gather.

Rosago, only separated from him by a coffee table, suddenly looked distracted. His face swelled and contracted, and the figure of the woman within his eyes instantly grew clearer.

“Two!”

Behind him, the pale woman in the black court dress suddenly moved faster, but immediately furrowed her brows and revealed an expression of pain.

At that moment, as Klein had hoped, he felt the effect upon him weaken. His thoughts once again flowed smoothly, and his joints seemed to be filled once more with “lubricating oil.”

Having long endured the test of ravings, Klein withstood the madness and pain. He drew and flung at the same time, throwing the Words of Filth charm in his left palm toward Rosago opposite him.

“One!”

The iron-black charm, covered in many symbolic signs and evil patterns, melted. Rosago had just recovered a little of his state and tried to pounce to the side when he saw thick darkness and heard a raving voice filled with boundless knowledge and ultimate madness.

No human could precisely describe that voice. Every blood vessel in Rosago’s head bulged as though about to burst.

He rolled to the ground, twisted and struggled, and his skin split inch by inch, revealing the flesh and blood beneath.

At the same time, Klein and the pale-golden-haired, blue-eyed lady, who had not directly heard the True Creator’s voice, still found it unbearable. They collapsed to the floor, each screaming, suffering as though iron spikes had been driven into their temples.

Their eyes suddenly turned bloodshot, and fresh blood flowed from their noses. They could neither see nor sense the outside world.

Klein, who possessed comparatively rich experience of similar matters, was the first to recover. Swaying and struggling, he stood and saw Rosago tear apart his clothes, shed his skin, and expose all of his flesh, blood, and veins.

He was like a red monster from legend, freshly flayed, rolling and groaning nonstop as though about to lose control.

Klein did not wait to see the result, because he could not bear the possibility that Rosago might gain benefits and become a devout believer of the True Creator.

He believed that the evil god must also be filled with anger toward him.

Drawing his revolver and adjusting the firing pin, Klein stepped forward twice, circled around the coffee table, and pressed the muzzle against Rosago’s head.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

Dressed in a black double-breasted frock coat, Klein gazed at his enemy and fired five shots in succession, watching the other man’s head swell and jerk backward, watching it burst apart as red, white, and black matter splattered everywhere.

Captain, thank you for your previous demonstration…

Klein lowered the revolver and breathed heavily, a smile appearing on his face.

Before him, Rosago’s headless corpse swayed once, then fell backward beside the sofa.

Only then did the lady in the black Gothic court dress gradually stop screaming. Her rolling and struggling also slowed, but her skin seemed to have become much more transparent.

Seeing that Rosago’s corpse was still writhing with flesh and blood, Klein did not hesitate. He immediately took out a self-made Requiem Charm and used it.

In the calm and peaceful sensation, that corpse finally grew still.

Witnessing this scene, Klein’s thoughts stirred. He took out another charm and recited in a low voice, “Crimson!”

Then he poured a little spirituality into the charm and threw it toward his bodyguard—toward the pale-golden-haired, pale-faced lady.

Power that brought slumber rippled outward. The lady, still weak and not yet free of the lingering echoes, suddenly turned quiet and fell asleep.

Still uneasy, Klein followed with another Slumber Charm, fearing that she might interrupt what he was about to attempt.

15 Minsk Street returned once again to the tranquility of night. This time, nothing had been broken, only the floor had been stained. The struggle among the three parties had been strange and secret.

Glancing at Rosago’s corpse, then at his sleeping bodyguard, Klein laughed self-mockingly.

“Often courting death does have its advantages. At the very least, it gives me a certain immunity.”

He did not rashly attempt a spirit-channeling ritual, because at this moment Rosago had been contaminated by the True Creator. Channeling his spirit directly would be the same as suicide.

But that did not mean Klein had no method. He intended to go above the gray fog and channel the spirit there, bringing Rosago with him.

With his current Spirit Body level, even with Azik’s copper whistle reinforcing him, he could not move a portable camera, let alone a corpse several times heavier. But spirit channeling was not about channeling the corpse. It was about channeling the other party’s lingering spirituality.

Klein took out a candle and swiftly arranged a ritual, summoning himself and responding to himself, transforming into a special Spirit Body.

After becoming a Spirit Body, he saw Rosago’s vague, indistinct lingering spirituality. He also discovered that his Miss Bodyguard’s bodily condition was somewhat strange. It was similar to his current state, yet also very different.

Klein did not waste time thinking. Carrying Azik’s copper whistle, he wrapped Rosago’s remaining spirituality and entered above the gray fog.

After manifesting the corresponding ritual materials and arranging a simple altar, Klein swiftly began the spirit-channeling ritual.

During the process, he discovered in astonishment that he no longer needed to pray to anyone. He could channel the spirit directly, just like a true Spirit Medium.

Hoo… Is this my special authority inside the mysterious space above the gray fog?

The thought flashed through Klein’s mind, and he recited the divination statement:

“The potion formulas of the Seer pathway.”