Mystery: When the Fool Meets the Masked Fool

Chapter 288 You may call me the Fool

"Pado, what are you looking at?" Klein sat down not far from Pado and dragged the plate in front of him.

He opened a mouth without a sense of taste on his hand and ate the cold food in one bite.

Then he "recalled" the original food from his memory, food that was still steaming hot.

It's filling and not bad-tasting, just right.

"I'm reading a novel about cat abuse," Padmo replied.

"A cat abuse novel?" Klein couldn't help but frown. "What are you, a cat, reading about cat abuse novels?"

Klein put down his knife and fork, stood up, went behind Padmon, and tilted his head to look at the book that was under Padmon's body.

Padma stretched out her paw and pointed to a passage in the book.

"You've adjusted your mindset very quickly. Aren't you really considering becoming my benefactor?"

Klein cut off another piece of beef, and as he forked it, he replied as if chatting with a friend:
"Just kill me."
Klein's expression turned somewhat strange for a moment.

Oh, it's the cat being tortured.

"What kind of book is this?" Klein asked. But he already knew the answer in his heart.

“Lord of Mysteries,” Padmon replied. “Given to me by Boss Serres.”

She blocked out the rest of the content: "Boss Serres said you can't see this."

Klein smiled, not minding it, and simply asked with concern:
"Isn't there a problem? Knowledge is toxic."

“Boss Serres has already covered it up.” Padmon flipped through the book, picked it up, and showed it to Klein.

It was all black, and you couldn't see anything.

"That's good." Klein sat back down at the table, picked up his knife and fork, and enjoyed his breakfast in the midday sunlight streaming in from the window.

…………

On the source fortress.

Mr. Fool had somehow taken up Klein's seat.

His body suddenly collapsed inward, and a door of light, tinged with a bluish-black hue, was faintly visible deep within his black trench coat.

The gray mist quietly dissipated, and the cane inlaid with stardust and the black gloves collapsed into it, forming a huge, terrifying vortex inside the black trench coat.

Every gust of wind, every drop of water, and every ray of light in that vortex was composed of twisted worms, segmented worms, and tiny insects shimmering with starlight.

In just a second or two, the vortex was swallowed up, and inside the black trench coat, there was only deep darkness, endless, as if it contained a universe, a complete spirit world connected to every planet.

Along with this change, a grayish-white mist emerged from the spirit world and spread rapidly, enveloping the entire planet and the spirit projections of all living beings within it.

Outside the barrier, in the boundless universe, a thin gray mist had begun to spread.

That was a mist seeping out from the spirit world.

That portion of the gray mist merged into the barrier, transforming into symbolic representations of deception, grafting, error, time, sealing, and recurrence.

The spirit world began to cheer and rejoice, welcoming the return of their great master.

The seven elders of the spirit world were both surprised and delighted, thinking that they no longer had to worry about the so-called "Earth Mushroom Day".

But they soon realized, with a sense of helplessness, that the return of the Spirit Realm Ruler was only temporary.

The next second, in the misty spirit realm, within that gray fog, all the creatures of the spirit realm either became foolish, or full of cunning, or were suddenly transported from their original locations to another place they knew best.

Many rules have been flawed, and many symbols have been misused.

The barrier of the astral plane fluctuated greatly, and those broken and incomplete symbols split in an instant, one into ten, ten into a hundred, and then merged back into a complete and true symbol.

The power of order had completed its mission and quietly dissipated.

Outside the barrier, the menacing "outer gods" hesitated for a few seconds.

Time stopped.

At the astral barrier, from within the black trench coat, a dark, slippery tentacle with mysterious patterns suddenly emerged, donning black gloves on its sleeves and raising a cane inlaid with stardust in front of it.

Then, from beneath the half-high silk hat, a face emerged with difficulty from the depths of darkness: black hair, brown eyes. It was Klein Moretti's face.

King of Time and Space, Beacon of Destiny, Ruler of the Spirit Realm, Incarnation of the Source Castle, Lord of Mysteries.

It was temporarily created.

Grayish-white mist suddenly filled the gaping, deep cracks in the astral barrier.

The fog quickly covered the crack, making it invisible and untouchable.

This seems to be practically equivalent to non-existence.

The astral barrier thus becomes more stable.

"Lord of Mysteries," the real can become the fake, and the fake can become the real.

The old ones let out a series of silent, frantic, and terrified roars, and scattered in all directions.

Some of them suddenly ascended to a higher dimension, transforming into higher-dimensional matter and fleeing far away; some became distorted and chaotic, disappearing in an instant; some directly transformed into the most primal desires, hiding in the minds of every living being except on Earth; some simply opened their mouths wide and devoured themselves on the spot.

Run! The slowest runners are in the front row!
But there are exceptions.

For example, that golden star expanded rapidly, first becoming a star with countless flames leaping up, then becoming a real sun, and then bursting forth with light that illuminated the entire star realm.

But it was no use. His abilities were grafted together from beginning to end, and in the instant of the outburst, he returned to the original starting point.

"Lord of Mysteries" Klein raised his hand and pressed down on the half-high silk hat on his head, which transformed into a dark vortex that extended out many slippery tentacles, merging into the invisible barrier.

when!
The sound of bells, seemingly transported from ancient times, echoed throughout the entire astral realm and the spirit realms across the universe, causing the stars of different colors to freeze and the burst of light to disintegrate into cones.

The barrier of the astral plane is now completely secure.

Immediately afterwards, Klein turned his gaze beyond Earth once again.

The spiritual threads on those densely packed, strange creatures with insect-like and infant-like features suddenly rose up, drifting into the sky, towards the astral plane, and merging into the spirit world.

Among them were bird-clawed monsters with elytra, oak giants with compound eyes, herds of six-legged deer, and all sorts of insect-like animals.

They are the creatures of the "Fallen Mother Goddess's" retinue and their offspring, which they have somehow bred.

The countless billions of people trembled, turned around, and looked at the blood-red full moon that was still in mid-air.

The next second, these countless creatures wriggled and changed, each instantly growing into Klein Moretti, wearing a half-high silk hat and a black trench coat.

Billions upon billions of Klein Moretti looked down at the crimson, beautiful, enormous moon from the sky, from the earth, from the sea, and from all directions.

Unfortunately, a fake is still a fake.

The false Lord of Mysteries was ultimately no match for the fallen Mother Goddess who had embarked on her destiny.

Even though He is not complete.

These Kleins grew feathers, elytra, compound eyes, and mouthparts.

Most of the Kleins suddenly fell apart, and as their bodies underwent cell division, all the new cells produced turned into worms with fleshy growths.

If He knew in advance, He could control the "dense couples" from undergoing cell division, but He did not know.

Lord of Mysteries, Klein, encountered an information gap.

But that doesn't matter, Klein has already achieved his goal.

He heard the doubts; He saw the confusion.

And now, He will provide the answer.

He politely adjusted his top hat, and his voice echoed in the ears of all the spirits.

It answered some of the questions of the true gods and the ancients, but it also raised new questions.

You can call me...

"The Fool."

(End of this chapter)