Mystery: The Silver Key

Chapter 411 Accident

After a moment of silence, Cyril looked up and asked, "Is that all?"

"Hmm...He also condemned your shameful act of bullying even an unborn baby."

"Do you need me to repeat it to you?"

"...No need." Sirion shook his head speechlessly.

After a two-second silence, Klein briefly described Emlyn's conversation with Leonard, and then said, "Pales Zoroaster is very cautious. I don't know if he doesn't believe it or if he's in such a bad state that he doesn't have the extra strength to save Mobert."

"Perhaps it's both reasons," he murmured, rubbing his chin. "I'll go see Him, if He's willing to see me."

"I know a way to quickly restore some of His strength."

Klein quickly said, "Tell Him only after you've confirmed that He means no harm and that He is trustworthy."

He worried that a recovered Palez Soroyas would pose a danger to Leonard.

"Talking about trust with a con artist?" Sirion raised an eyebrow.

Above the gray fog, Klein's lips twitched slightly: "Try... at least don't become a target of fraud."

As soon as he finished speaking, the gray fog in front of Sirion dissipated. He yawned and then buried himself in the covers.

In the early hours of the morning, while fast asleep, Cyril's spiritual intuition suddenly gave him a warning. He abruptly opened his eyes, and before his thoughts were fully clear, he had already "flashed" into consciousness.

The next second, the bed he was lying on collapsed with a loud bang, and the floor beneath it inexplicably broke and crashed down to the floor below.

After a rustling sound, the sound of a trigger being pulled suddenly came from downstairs.

boom!boom!

One after another, bright yellow bullets shot out from the collapsed ground, but became chaotic as they approached Sirion, instead heading towards the walls and ceiling.

boom!

A bullet struck the chandelier on the ceiling, and the chandelier, which had been steadily hanging down, suddenly crashed down.

Cyril tilted his head slightly, and an invisible hand pushed the fallen chandelier aside.

He then looked at the "probability die" on the table beside him, which had somehow turned up to show a 2, and frowned slightly.

Under his gaze, the "probability die" slowly rolled over as if it were sleepy, turning into a 6 facing up.

The next second, he heard footsteps downstairs, along with the howling wind, followed by short gasps and screams.

A short while later, the person who had fired the shot at him downstairs seemed to have been subdued.

Through the crack in the collapsed floor, he glanced down with some curiosity and saw a middle-aged man in a trench coat look up at him, then pull out his local police badge.

"Don't be nervous, we are police officers from the Public Security Bureau, and we are arresting a group of smugglers wanted by the Kingdom."

"We originally planned to wait for them to meet with their next target, but we suddenly heard gunshots just now. To prevent any accidents, we had to close the net ahead of schedule."

After a pause, the man, having put away his documents, suddenly asked, "Do you know what just happened?"

Cyril pointed to the crack in the floor at his feet and the collapsed bed in the room on the next floor, and said with a helpless tone, "The hotel floor suddenly collapsed, and the bed fell down too. Luckily, I was just about to go to the bathroom, otherwise I would have fallen down with it."

"Given the current situation, do I need to go to the police station with you to give a statement?"

"However, I need to ask the front desk staff to help me change rooms and move my luggage there. Also, could you help me prove that I didn't damage the floor?"

The man on the next floor nodded without hesitation: "No problem, an officer will come up to you in a bit. I'll have him make a statement for you; you don't need to go to the police station."

"Thank you very much for your kindness, officer." Sir Ryan nodded politely to the man below.

He then left the collapsed area of ​​the floor and took the die with the six facing up from the table.

"Is this what Adam meant by 'not too dangerous'?"

"Why are you suddenly dialing 2 AM in the middle of the night?"

As he whispered, the "probability die" wobbled in his hand, changing from a 6 to a 5.

He glanced at it but didn't pay much attention.

He took his coat from the coat rack, cooperated with the police officer who came to find him to make a brief record, and then went to the hotel receptionist to change to a new room.

After the unexpected events at the hotel in the middle of the night came to an end, he took out a piece of drawing paper from his pocket, reached into the paper and took out a crystal ball.

He held a crystal ball in one hand and a "probability die" in the other, and quickly performed a divination.

"I can't get any results from the divination at all..."

With a long sigh, he put the crystal ball back into the drawing paper, then looked at the "Dice of Probability," pondering whether he should temporarily seal it so that he could get a good night's sleep.

"Fate itself is unpredictable; even the dice of probability cannot keep luck within a stable range. On the contrary, because of its near-endless chaos, it amplifies the normal fluctuations of fate, making the good better and the bad worse."

"From this perspective, its behavior of throwing 1, 2, and 3 points from time to time is very similar to Arrodes's uncontrollable instincts."

"That's not right either. Arodes was very restrained in front of Klein, as agile as a fish swimming in water. The 'Dice of Probability' didn't behave like that in front of me at all."

"Is it because it's not active enough, or is its inherent status too high, making it unsuitable for being a 'simp'?"

"Fortunately, after Adam created a personality for it, its wanton influence on fate subsided considerably, and the frequency of its own movements decreased. After bringing misfortune, it would quickly bring good fortune, smoothing out the negative effects. Otherwise, if it continued to be unlucky, it might have directly attracted Aquaman."

After whispering for a while, he looked at the "probability die" and said in a deep voice, "Restrain yourself and let me get some sleep. I'll spin it again tomorrow."

In his palm, the "probability die" wobbled slightly, still showing five dots facing up.

I'll take that as a yes.

After saying that, he took off his coat, lay down on the bed, and fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, because of the unexpected incident the night before, Cyril woke up a little later than usual and looked thoughtfully at the table not far away.

The "probability die" lay there quietly, already showing a 5.

As if noticing his gaze, the previously quiet dice suddenly flipped lazily, turning into a 3 facing up.

"It really is true. I'm sorry to have kept you up all night, no, it's already past midnight."

He muttered something, changed his clothes, took the "probability dice" to the front desk on the first floor to check out, and then left Bayam immediately.

During this period, he experienced a series of unfortunate events, including a floor collapse, a police officer's service weapon accidentally discharging, choking on water, and a maintenance worker's hammer suddenly slipping from his hand and hitting him.

This series of unfortunate events finally ended when the "probability die" turned into a four.

In the restaurant of a passenger ship slowly sailing away from Bayam Port, Sirion ate his slightly cold breakfast while pondering the unfortunate events that had just occurred.

"Although it was unlucky, it wasn't actually dangerous. Is this the result of your restraint?"

On the dining table, the "probability die" that he had casually placed aside shook slightly, as if in response to his words.

Cyril couldn't help but raise an eyebrow... The level of activation has increased a bit more. If it continues like this, won't it turn into "Hidden Sage" number two?

Am I now considered a keeper of evil gods?

Composing himself, he looked at the dice on the table and asked curiously, "What's the longest you can restrain your instincts at once?"

As soon as he finished speaking, the "probability die" slowly spun twice, revealing a 6.

It paused for half a second, then started spinning again, and finally the 6 o'clock position was still facing upwards.

"Three hours?"

The "probability die" has given another 4.

"It's barely acceptable; at least I can sleep peacefully at night."

He paused, then asked, "Does the longer you restrain yourself, the stronger and longer the misfortune will last next time?"

The "probability die" wobbled slightly, but still showed a 4 up.

"Can I accumulate a lot of good luck by constantly encountering minor misfortunes, and then unleash it at some point?"

'

As soon as the words were spoken, the "probability die" suddenly began to spin, sometimes showing a 3, sometimes a 4, and sometimes a 2.

One point or five points.

It only stopped after turning every face of the die once, keeping the 4 up.

Cyril paused for a moment, then realized what she meant and chuckled, "That's true. You can control the probability of everything anyway, so there's no need to accumulate luck. It's all about paying after you use it."

He shook his head and focused on enjoying his breakfast.

Backlund, 7 Pinster Street.

Sparkling starlight flew out from the void, quickly outlining the shape of an illusory door in the living room.

Immediately afterwards, Cyril emerged from behind the "door".

His gaze swept around the living room before landing on the wall clock, specifically the woodpecker decoration below the pendulum.

In his true vision, a semi-transparent, bluish-black spirit with water seeping from its body was lying there, staring at him without blinking.

On the transparent spirit's body, twelve tiny, ring-shaped worms, alternating between transparent and opaque, burrowed in and out of its eye sockets, mouth, and nostrils.

""

Parasitism is one thing, but there's no need to make it so disgusting. Can't you learn from Amon's monocle?

Composing himself, he beckoned to the spirit perched on the woodpecker decoration: "Want to chat?"

The spirit parasitized by the "Time Worm" stared at him expressionlessly for a while, then slowly pulled its transparent and illusory body out of the wall.

It appears to have been a worker in life, with a thin build, sunken eyes, and some dark circles under them.

The next second, its appearance in Sirion's eyes suddenly changed, turning into an old man wearing a dark robe, with completely white hair, but not many wrinkles on his face.

He has a rather serious demeanor, a natural air of authority that comes from being in a high position for a long time.

Cyril narrowed his eyes slightly, and through the old man, he saw the transparent spirit that had been parasitized earlier.

Its essence is still that spirit, but it used a more advanced illusion to give Cyril the wrong perception, but this did not deceive his true vision.

As he sized up the old man, the man spoke softly, "I remember you. You've also come to tell me about Mobert?"

"Uh...yes." Cyril touched his nose somewhat awkwardly.

He paused, then added, "I know the whereabouts of a 'parasite.' She's badly injured and is currently hiding in Backlund."

Pales narrowed his eyes, then shook his head: "Do you think I'm in much better shape than that severely injured 'parasite'?"

"Besides, she's just a severely injured demigod. Even if I devour her, how much of my injuries can I recover?"

Cyril smiled and continued, "She herself may not be able to restore much for you, but she is a descendant of the Jacob family and knows about a treasure left by Jacob. There must be something you need in it."

Pales scoffed dismissively: "What are the chances that the treasure left behind by an 'angelic con artist' is a trap?"

Before Cyril could answer, He continued, "One hundred percent."

"The existence of all treasures is a result of people setting them up to achieve certain goals, and the more tempting the treasure, the more dangerous it is."

That's well said, but why weren't you this rational when you fell into Amon's trap?

Suppressing the thoughts that had just begun to wander in his mind, he said with a smile, "You are also an angel-level con artist. Jacob is already dead. Even if he hid some resurrection tricks in the treasure, it won't do anything to you."

7

"You're right." Pales nodded slightly, then changed the subject: "But I don't believe you, and I don't believe Adam either."