Lord of Mysteries

Chapter 68 "Monster"

As evening fell, the shadows of the carriages and horses were stretched long by the setting sun.

Klein, who had already spoken to Benson and Melissa, had dinner at Blackthorn Security and was now traveling by public carriage to the docks with Old Neil.

He wore his usual inexpensive suit because he was worried that a conflict might occur in similar situations—if he ruined his carefully maintained tuxedo, it would be more than just a matter of heartache.

As the sunlight took on a burning intensity, the carriage came to a stop. Old Neil, still dressed in his classic black robe and matching round-brimmed felt hat, walked oblivious to the stares of others towards the "Dragon Bar" diagonally opposite.

Even though the bar was a bit far away, and even though the doors were heavily closed, Klein could still hear the shouts coming from inside, which seemed to be cheering for some "hero".

As he approached, he suddenly sensed something, turned his head and looked at the warehouse opposite the bar, where he saw a burly man in formal attire standing in a secluded spot on the roof.

The man carried a large, grayish-white mechanical case on his back and a long, complex rifle in his hand.

There was a clear pipe connection between the gray-white metal box and the rifle of the same color.

"A high-pressure steam rifle?" Klein murmured in astonishment, turning to look at Old Neil. "This bar can get its hands on a weapon like that?"

This is a military-controlled item!

Although it uses extracted phlogiston, the size and weight of the high-pressure steam backpack are still astonishing, requiring a true Predator to carry it, and the bullets propelled by it have extremely high speed and considerable destructive power.

With proper aiming, it's almost equivalent to a low-quality sniper rifle.

"What?" Old Neil squinted and looked over, equally puzzled. "Something happened here?"

Something happened? Klein looked around and, sure enough, found several men carrying automatic rifles searching for something.

"What's wrong?" Old Neil asked the burly man guarding the door as he approached the bar.

The burly man clearly recognized Old Neil, and his facial muscles twitched as he gave a wry smile:

"The bar was almost demolished just now."

"I heard some wanted guy came to buy materials, got recognized, and that's how this happened... My God, what did he do? How dangerous was he to deserve this? Seeing those guns made my legs go weak, weaker than after a whole night with red-haired Sunny!"

He had no idea who the wanted person was, nor did he know that the people who came here to buy materials included extraordinary individuals.

"The wanted guy? Do you know his name?" Old Neil asked with interest.

"His name is... his name is Tris?" the burly man answered uncertainly.

"Instigator" Tris? Klein nodded in realization, understanding what was going on.

Triss was unaware that Joyce Meyer had already suspected him, so he brazenly went to the underground market to buy materials, only to be recognized by informants from the "Mechanical Heart," "The Punisher," or "Night Watchers" teams, which led to a fierce conflict.

"Has he been caught?" Klein tapped his black cane inlaid with silver.

Judging from the surrounding situation, it seems that...

The burly man shook his head slightly and pointed with his chin to the top of the warehouse opposite, saying:

"He broke free before those terrifying guys arrived. Wow, I've never seen anyone run faster than him!"

Actually, you haven't seen the "assassin's" true skills yet, otherwise you would have been taken to an indescribable place for re-education... Klein muttered to himself.

"Is the trading market still open?" Old Neil asked, getting to the point.

"Just recovered," the burly man replied confidently.

"That's good." Old Neil took two quick steps, stretched out his right hand, and pushed open the heavy door.

Klein followed closely behind and went inside, almost overwhelmed by the sweltering heat and the smell of alcohol.

In the center of the "Dragon Bar" stands a boxing ring where two shirtless men are fiercely fighting, while dozens of patrons around them shout for their respective opponents, some of them using vulgar language.

Old Neil ignored them and led Klein around the boxing ring to a billiards room behind it.

Inside the billiards room, two men were chatting and laughing with their cues in hand. When they saw Old Neil push the door open and enter, they fell silent for a few seconds.

Upon confirming who was coming, they quietly stepped aside, allowing Old Neil and Klein to pass through the secret door behind them.

After walking through several rooms, Klein suddenly saw a place the size of a lecture hall from his previous life.

Here, some people set up stalls, their shelves piled high with bottles and jars, while others walk among them, examining, exchanging ideas, or comparing prices.

"All the profits go to Swain, one-twentieth. Ah, he's the owner of the Dragon Bar, the former captain of the 'Bailout' squad, older than me, and an old guy who wants to die from alcoholism," Old Neil said, chattering away.

Klein thought for a moment and then gave a sincere evaluation:

"A very profitable business."

Because the cost is only to provide a venue and shelter.

"If you see something you like but don't have enough money, you can borrow it from Swain. Of course, he'll charge very high interest..." Old Neil said through gritted teeth.

Sure enough, just like a casino, they offer loan sharking services… Klein, holding his cane, looked around and asked curiously:

"Is Mr. Swain a 'navigator'?"

The leader of the "Punisher" squad should be in position 7 of sequence.

"No, just the 'Wrathful People.' Tingen isn't on the coast. Here, the Church of the Goddess is more powerful than the Lord of the Storms." Old Neil chuckled. "Actually, Swain had the opportunity to become the 'Navigator,' but he was afraid of losing control and chose to give it up."

Just as Klein was about to ask the bar owner if he had ever almost lost control, he suddenly sensed something strange on his left.

Something seemed to be lurking there, whispering and telling its story.

Klein turned his head and saw a pale-faced young man wearing a tattered linen shirt and blue-gray trousers typical of the working class. His eyes were unfocused yet filled with madness as he muttered something incessantly.

"His inspiration is so high... or is it twisted?" Klein frowned and muttered.

What just sparked my "inspiration" was actually the other person's "inspiration"!

Normally, the perception brought about by "inspiration" will definitely generate some interaction and is almost impossible to hide from others. However, "others" refers to "psychics" who have used their abilities, as well as powerful figures with similar special skills. It is actually difficult for extraordinary individuals like Klein to distinguish them in this way. Only when the other party's "inspiration" is high enough or exhibits abnormal distortion can he detect it.

As their eyes met, the pale-faced, disheveled young man with messy black hair took a step forward and walked over, with an expression that was half sleepwalking and half madness.

He stopped in front of Klein, staring at him blankly.

Suddenly, he laughed loudly:

"Ha ha, the taste of death, the smell of death... ah!"

Before he could finish speaking, he suddenly screamed in agony, his eyes snapped shut, and bloody liquid oozed out.

"Ah!" "Damn it!"... The young man covered his eyes, clutched his head, and struggled and rolled on the ground. It took him a while to calm down and lie there panting.

Throughout the entire process, not a single customer or vendor glanced at the scene.

Klein pressed down on his top hat, staring dumbfounded at old Neil beside him, expressing his astonishment and desire for guidance through his actions.

"Don't worry about him. His name is Admiral, an orphan nicknamed 'The Monster.' He has a natural high level of intuition and often sees things he shouldn't see and hears things he shouldn't hear, so he often talks nonsense and gets hurt," Old Neil explained, shaking his head.

"He can tell that this body of mine has died once?" Klein frowned, lowered his voice, and asked suspiciously.

"None of the Night Watchers, the Punishers, or the Mechanical Heart have considered recruiting him into their teams?"

"No, none of us have the right sequence potion for him," Old Neil sighed.

Yes, this is equivalent to inherently fixing half of the sequence initiation... Klein asked curiously again:

"Which sequence pathway is suitable for him?"

"His suitable Sequence 9 is called 'Monster,' which is where his nickname comes from. Unfortunately, only the Life School has mastered the origin of this sequence pathway," Old Neil replied in a low voice.

He and Klein kept their conversations discreet from those around them, so as not to leak information to occult enthusiasts.

The School of Life? Klein recalled the materials he had read earlier.

This secretive organization emerged at the beginning of this era, its exact origins are unknown, and it primarily operates through a master-disciple system.

Their specific theories and beliefs were also rarely revealed to outsiders. Klein only knew that they divided the world into three layers: the world of absolute reason, also known as the world of absolute truth; the world of spirit; and the world of matter.

It's said that this secret organization has even produced a "prophet"... Shouldn't this correspond to the sequence path of a "diviner"?... I don't understand, I don't understand... Klein shook his head repeatedly, watching Admisor struggle to get up and wander to another corner.

He composed himself and followed behind Old Neil, passing through stalls where he found plants such as moonflower, citronella, and night-blooming jasmine, as well as minerals such as sterling silver, citrine, and ruby.

"It is indeed quite complete..." Klein muttered to himself.

The mystical enthusiasts around him, whether old or young, male or female, would sometimes pause, sometimes try to understand, and sometimes exchange ideas, making the place quite lively.

"You can look around by yourself, I'll go pay the bill." Old Neil pointed to one of the two rooms at the end of the way.

"Okay." Klein nodded nonchalantly.

He carried a black cane and strolled slowly to a stall selling homemade amulets, examining them carefully for a while.

Just as Klein was about to speak, he suddenly heard someone from the stall behind him ask:

"Is this powder made from purslane?"

Ox-tooth peony? Isn't that an auxiliary ingredient for the "Audience" potion? Klein turned around thoughtfully and looked at the person who asked the question.

Because "Justice" had repeated this material several times at the time, he, who was already trying to memorize it, had a very deep impression of it.

(End of this chapter)