Lord of Mysteries

Chapter 81 Long-Awaited Encounter

"You have to complete a task independently to become a full member?" Klein asked, taken aback. "But we might not even have a task once a week, and they're not always easy."

Doesn't this mean it will take me about a month or two before I can officially become a night shift worker and get a promotion and a raise...?

Old Neil, smelling the coffee, glanced at him:

"This is just a ritual among the Night Watchers. After all, we are at the forefront of fighting against supernatural dangers, and we certainly don't want our teammates to be children who need constant care. This does not affect your receiving the salary of a full member, obtaining the corresponding rights, and fulfilling the necessary obligations."

So it was a ritual to gain the approval of the other night watchmen... But, Mr. Neil, why did you emphasize that it wouldn't affect my salary as a full member...? Did I make it that obvious? Klein touched his face, gave an awkward smile, and then asked:

"Does the mission have to be extraordinary?"

"That's how it should have been, but you performed exceptionally well yesterday, skillfully killing an extraordinary being at least Sequence 8. I think Frye and Luo Yao have already recognized your abilities, so Dunn might just assign you a regular mission." Old Neil suddenly exclaimed, "Double the salary! I'll never encounter anything like this again in my life."

Klein chuckled twice and brought up the matter of his own sequence pathway:

"Mr. Neil, do you believe that the Sequence 8 corresponding to 'The Diviner' is actually 'The Joker'?"

Actually, recalling the description in the classified documents, it does match quite well:

A "profession" skilled in technical combat...

"I can't guarantee it, but I think it's very likely. First, it matches the records, characterized by agile movements and skillful combat. Second, other sequence pathways have similar cases. Do you know what the Sequence 8 corresponding to 'The Spy' is called?" Old Neil asked with a smile.

"I don't know, it's not in the church's records," Klein said, shaking his head frankly.

Old Neil chuckled and said:

"I'm acquainted with those two old guys from 'The Mechanical Heart,' and they jokingly mentioned that the Sequence 8 potion corresponding to 'The Seeker' is called 'Fighting Scholar.' Did you hear that? Fighting Scholar? Goddess, I don't like fighting at all. It doesn't fit the image of 'The Seeker' at all!"

"I can understand... 'Those who seek the secrets behind things' are looking for the secrets behind things, and fighting is one of those things," Klein said after thinking for a moment.

"Alright, let's not waste any more time. Let's continue with the occult course. You still have a lot of ritual magic to master, and you must truly learn how to make talismans and amulets." Old Neil finished making hand-ground coffee.

"Okay." Klein sat down, mentally planning his day:

In the morning, I studied mysticism, browsed through various historical materials, and submitted a reimbursement application. After lunch, I went to the shooting club to practice, and then went to the Deville Library in the Golden Rooster District to see if I could borrow academic monographs and corresponding journals related to the Hornachis Peak. After doing all this, if there was still time, I went to the fortune-telling club to sit for a while. I couldn't relax at all while "playing" the role.

Once the application was approved and I received the funds, I bought a formal suit on my way home.

Okay, I'll apply for the materials tomorrow morning and try to make amulets to protect Melissa and Benson from misfortune.

…………

Inside a restaurant with hanging chandeliers and elegant decor.

Several friends are congratulating Joyce Meyer on escaping the ordeal and returning to Tingen.

"We've all seen the newspapers, and just the descriptions in the words are frightening," a man with a short beard remarked. "Joyce, it's hard to believe you've been through something like this, suffered such hardship. Cheers! The bad luck is behind us, the sun is shining on us, and steam is rising."

Joyce and his fiancée Anna raised their glasses together, clinked them with their friends, and then downed the last of their champagne in one gulp.

"Anna has been so worried these past few days. I suspect she's been crying every night. She's always distracted when I invite her for afternoon tea. Luckily, you're finally back, otherwise I suspect she would have died." A young woman with brown hair tied up in a bun glanced at Anna and said to Joyce. She had a small, cute nose.

"If Anna were in a similar situation, I would have reacted the same way, perhaps even more erratically." Joyce, with his hooked nose, looked tenderly at his fiancée beside him.

Anna wasn't used to showing her emotions in front of others, so she glanced at the other end of the long table and said:

"Bogda, why are you keeping your head down? I can tell you're in a bad mood."

The young woman with the small nose answered on behalf of the other person:

"Bogda is sick. His internist told him that there was a serious problem with his liver. Medication could only relieve the pain and could not really cure it. He had to have surgery."

"Lord, when did this happen?" Anna and Joyce asked, both surprised and concerned.

Bogda was a young man with very short, light hair. His face was sallow, and his usually shrewd red eyes had become dull.

"I told Irene and the others not to tell you about what happened last week, since Joyce hasn't come back yet," Bogda explained with a wry smile.

Joyce asked calmly:

"Have you decided when to have the surgery?"

Bogda's expression shifted several times before he said:

"No, I haven't made a decision yet. You know, those surgeons are just butchers. The people they operate on are like pieces of meat on a chopping board, to be slaughtered at will! I've seen many reports of them even using axes to perform amputations! Lord, I suspect I'll die on the operating table."

"But if we delay any longer, even surgery might not be able to save you," the man with a short beard advised.

At this moment, Anna suddenly interjected:

"Bogda, perhaps you could consider having a divination done. If the divination shows everything is going well, then proceed with the surgery as soon as possible. If the divination doesn't go well, then look for other methods, following the diviner's guidance. I know a real, amazing diviner—no, I should call him a fortune teller—and I think he can definitely help you."

"Really?" Bogda asked with obvious skepticism, and his other friends had similar attitudes.

"Really." Anna nodded without hesitation. "I had him do a divination for Joyce, and he told me to go home, that my fiancé was waiting for me there. At the time, I was just like you, full of doubt. But when I got home, I really saw Joyce! He really came back!"

"I can testify to that," Joyce agreed.

He didn't mention that he had gone to the police station to ask for a dream interpretation because the police told him that Triss hadn't been caught yet, so he had to keep this a secret to avoid retaliation.

"Lord, this is simply unbelievable!"

Is divination really that magical?

……

Amidst gasps of astonishment, Bogda pondered for a moment and said:

"Perhaps I really should get a fortune told, Anna. Joyce, could you tell me the fortune teller's address and name?"

Anna breathed a sigh of relief and said:

"You made a wise choice."

"That fortune teller is at the fortune-telling club in the Halles neighborhood."

"His name is Klein Moretti."

…………

In the Golden Phoenix District, at the Deville Library.

Klein successfully obtained a library card using the letter of introduction his mentor had included in the letter.

As he flipped through the small cards in his hand, he asked the administrators:

"Do you have a copy of 'A Study of the Ancient Remains on Mount Honach'? It's published by Ruenren Publishing House."

One of the administrators immediately replied:

"Please wait a moment while I look for it."

He turned around to face the drawers, opened the one corresponding to the first letter of "Honakis," and then flipped out several cards filled with words according to a certain pattern.

After looking at it carefully, he shook his head and said:

"I'm sorry, sir, we don't have this book in our collection."

"That's a real shame," Klein replied, sounding slightly disappointed.

It seems the only option is to write to the Ruhnn Publishing House, or go back to Hoy University...

At the same time, he sighed inwardly, lamenting that the world's libraries were still managed in an ancient way.

"You need a computer, but unfortunately I can't get it out of the car..." Klein said self-deprecatingly, then asked:

"Are there journals like *New Archaeology* or *Archaeological Review*?"

"Yes, there is," the administrator replied confidently. "A gentleman just returned it recently."

He retrieved the corresponding card and pointed out the location of the bookshelf to Klein.

Klein arrived there, scanned the issue numbers, and picked out a few books his mentor had mentioned.

Then, he casually found a seat by the window and sat down, enjoying the bright afternoon sunlight as he browsed through the materials in the quiet library.

"...Ancient remains exist not only on the main peak of the Hornach Mountains, but also extensively in the surrounding woodlands, valleys, and gentle slopes..."

"...These ruins consist of towering domes and massive stone pillars, and can be vividly described as 'magnificent'..."

"...What's puzzling is how the indigenous people here quarried and polished these stones? Let's first assume that they quarried them locally, without needing to transport them up the mountain..."

"...A strange pattern is that the closer to the summit, the more magnificent the ruins become. Surprisingly, however, there are no ruins at the summit. Based on our speculation, there should have been a palace here that doesn't resemble human architecture, a temple used for sacrifices..."

Unlike palaces built by humans... temples used for sacrifices... could it be the one I saw in my dream? As Klein's thoughts were in turmoil, he suddenly heard several footsteps approaching from afar.

He looked up and saw a familiar face, a face that often appeared in the newspaper.

Square face, thick eyebrows, a straight nose, short dark gold hair, blue eyes, and tightly pursed lips—all these belong to Sir Deville, a celebrity, philanthropist, entrepreneur, and owner of this library in Tingen.

Beside Deville stood the middle-aged butler whom Klein had seen before.

Klein watched them pass by from about ten meters away, and curiously raised his right hand to tap his brow twice.

(End of this chapter)