Mystery: When the Fool Meets the Masked Fool

Chapter 587 A Strike Against Time

Klein glanced at the people coming and going outside the window, then asked the owner without turning his head, "Boss, aren't you going to try a different approach? There aren't many coffee shops still making cooked food these days."

Klein's voice wasn't loud at all, but it easily reached the boss's ears.

"Oh dear, I'm used to it. We can't lose this old skill." The owner walked straight into the kitchen, but continued to chat happily with Klein.

They had no idea how absurd it was for two people to chat from such a great distance apart.

"I see. So how's the income?" Klein continued to ask.

"Income?" The kitchen owner thought to himself as he cut meat. "Pretty good. We don't have to worry about food or drink anymore. It's much better than the last two years."

“Let me tell you, especially two years ago, when the Grain Act was repealed. Oh my god, tons of people starved to death.”

As the owner spoke, he casually cut a few more pieces of meat into the bowl.

"Alas, they didn't make it to the good days."

"Well, to use that word Russell invented, it's 'utopia.' You know what 'utopia' means, right?" The boss's tone was somewhat smug.

He seemed to have read some books and knew some of the things in them, so he liked to show off to the people around him.

Klein nodded and didn't say anything more.

Utopia...

While he spent some time chatting with his boss, he also let his mind wander, connecting with spirit insects all over the world.

As the boss said, the world is practically a utopia now.

Most items are in a state of public ownership; people can take whatever they want, including public facilities, and are willing to lend out their private belongings if others need them.

The idea of ​​borrowing money and not repaying it is practically nonexistent; it seems everyone's morality has been greatly elevated.

Nowadays, people no longer work for "money," but for spiritual fulfillment, just like playing various roles in a game, working willingly.

Equality and harmony, no poverty and crime, and everyone has time for scientific research and recreation.

This is a world where death is almost nonexistent.

There is no disease, no injury, no pain.

Everyone can achieve their ideal of "immortality" until they have experienced all the pleasures of "life" and no longer want to live, at which point they will die peacefully.

Just perfect.

There is no more perfect world than this.

The only problem is that the world is just too perfect right now.

It's too formulaic.

It's almost like a pre-programmed sequence.

Everyone repeats the same things as the previous day, everyone does things that make them feel satisfied, and everyone becomes kind-hearted and caring towards others.

Like the owner of this coffee shop, he gave up ways to make more money, willingly maintaining the status quo, playing a part in the world, plain and content.

Capital no longer seeks exploitation, politicians have lost their ambition, and ordinary people have lost the motivation to climb the social ladder.

Everyone was perfectly happy, as if all desires had been erased.

At this moment, the owner brought over coffee, oat bread, and lamb stew with tender peas.

As Klein enjoyed his breakfast, which wasn't particularly delicious but had a strong, down-to-earth feel, he looked out the window, admiring the morning street scene, the pedestrians, carriages, trees, fog, food, and machinery that made up the picture.

Everyone wore a happy smile, and even the androids seemed cheerful.

Klein stared unfocused at the extra portions of lamb in his bowl.

He attempted suicide in the past few days.

To fool life, to steal life, or to simply throw oneself into the turbulent currents of time and space and be strangled.

But each time he returned from a miracle, from history, he was still resurrected in this dream, unable to wake up from reality.

He also tried to use this dream as a "seal" to open a "door" to the outside world.

But I still can't leave.

He even tried to leave Earth, fly into the star realm, leave the solar system, and enter the universe.

Having mastered the power of the "Gate," traveling to the ends of the universe would be no difficult task for him.

But it still failed.

No matter how far he goes, he remains in my dreams, unable to leave.

Klein ate the last piece of meat in his bowl and then ate the oat bread with the broth.

The owner's cooking skills are quite good.

But Klein couldn't tell whether it was because the boss's cooking skills were really good or because the world was too perfect, even the roadside stalls had reached the level of master chefs.

This world is too perfect, so perfect it's unreal.

Klein couldn't even break free from this "perfection."

The spiritual threads on its body broke, and the puppet died silently, its body rapidly shrinking back to its original form before the modification.

It was an unknown microorganism. Klein, the main body of the Source Castle, leaned against an ancient, mottled bronze chair with his eyes half-closed, his hands resting on the chair.

He was shrouded in gray mist, wearing a black trench coat, a black top-top silk hat, and a mask on his face.

The mask's lips curled up in a wide smile.

He was thinking, thinking about how to escape the dream.

He had considered destroying the star core, but how could he, in his dream, destroy the real star core?

Unless someone in real life prays to him or performs divination on him.

He now understands the mindset of those demons trapped in the abyss who can only influence reality by responding to prayers.

Having been both an evil god and a righteous god for so long, I've finally experienced what it's like to be far removed from the mortal world.

Perhaps he could change his form, transforming himself into a "prosperous monster." Then a beam of light would fall from the sky and blast him away.

As the most powerful Faceless Man in the world today, a Faceless Man with the rank of "Pillar-level Old One," it wouldn't be difficult for Klein to do this.

As a pillar-level bountiful creature, Klein was certain he would receive special attention from the God of the Heavenly Bow.

However, the problem is that he really can't guarantee whether he will be able to resurrect after being killed by the [Hunter] Star God.

Most likely not.

Therefore, this seemingly feasible solution had to be shelved.

After all, he just wanted to escape the dream, not to face real death within it.

Klein tapped his fingers lightly on the bronze table in front of him.

The power of [Hunter] is likely feasible, but the [Hunter] Star God is too powerful and can only have a counterproductive effect.

If it were someone else...

Klein thought of Leonard, of his current Sequence 4 "Vengeful Agent," and of his own divination that his next sequence would be "Fictional Judge."

But Leonard is too weak.

Klein needs to train him to at least Sequence Zero before he has the possibility of killing his real self in a dream.

It's not that Klein is unwilling to nurture this "star shovel," it's just that the probability of Leonard becoming Sequence Zero is too slim.

At that moment, Klein thought of a scene, a scene that had passed several years ago and had been forgotten in a corner of his memory.

The scene suddenly became incredibly clear in a moment, as if it were about to leap out of his memory and appear before him.

Klein opened his half-closed eyes, raised his head, and looked at the gray mist in front of him.

A smile suddenly appeared on his lips.

It may be very difficult for someone to kill him, but it is easy enough for him to kill himself.

Yes, it would have been very easy for him to commit suicide.

The historical fog before him slowly coalesced into a human figure.

Those are Klein's memories, from history, from the past.

That was himself, looking quite naive, still in the Sequence Nine stage.

In the gray fog, the Klein from his memory lowered his head and silently loaded bullets into the ordinary revolver in his hand.

There was only one bullet.

The blue bullet was shaped like a water droplet, with strange substances that gradually changed from light blue to white swirling around it. These substances, like clouds or mist, lingered around the bullet for a few centimeters, connecting only to the water droplet at its tip.

Compared to a bullet, this is more like a work of art.

The bullet transformed into a streak of light and entered the revolver's cylinder.

The past self raises its head, facing what lies ahead.

Klein remembered that this was his first time entering the simulated universe, and he was aiming a bullet at the virtual pawn in front of him.

Klein adjusted his angle, positioning himself in the position he remembered as a pawn, so that the gun barrel from the "past" was pointed at him.

"If one day you hate yourself to the core, you might just hit yourself right between the eyebrows."

These are Serres's original words.

Klein's smile widened even further.

He had fooled his own emotions, and a hatred for Zhutian rose in his heart.

boom!
Gunshots were fired.

Blue bullets flew out of Klein's memory, transforming from abstract to concrete.

Klein offered no resistance, allowing the bullets to strike him.

Centered between eyebrows.

The bullet, named "Time-Reversing Strike," will eventually transcend time and distance, illusion and reality, and nail its prey to its destiny, no matter when or where it is fired.

(End of this chapter)