Mystery: The Traveler Who Holds the Star Key

Chapter 17 Miss Sharon, your invisibility is ineffective against me.

A dark red light filled my eyes.

The suffocating heat swept in, turning the dimly lit room into a hellish scene.

It was an extremely violent and pure destructive force.

Orion took a deep breath, feeling the spiritual fluctuations that resembled magma.

My nerves, which had been tense for several days, finally relaxed.

now it's right.

This is the sense of security that "firepower" brings.

Before this, he was just a Sequence 8 magician with flashy techniques but lacking the "final blow" lethality.

When facing a truly high-defense, high-health enemy, all you can do is scratch them.

But now, we have this [Burning Thirst].

If handled properly, even a common sequence 7 can be handled.

He also gained the confidence to overturn the table and even fight back.

Sweet dreams.

Orion closed the metal box again.

He tucked the hot card under his pillow, a satisfied smile curving his lips.

Tonight, I can finally get a good night's sleep.

……

The next day, in the morning.

15 Minsk Street.

When Orion pushed open that familiar oak door with a refreshed expression.

What I saw was Klein, looking miserable as he ate cheap black bread at the dining table.

The detective has noticeable dark circles under his eyes.

Clearly, although he made a fortune by conquering many people outside, he still managed to do so.

But the unsuspecting boss was still anxious about the impending retaliation from Ambassador Intis.

"Good morning, Detective Sherlock."

Orion handed over a copy of the Backlund Morning Post that he had bought on the way, his tone relaxed.

"morning……"

Klein sighed, took the newspaper, and glanced at his assistant with a complicated expression.

I don't know if it's just my imagination, but after resting for a few days, Orion's demeanor seems to have changed.

The subtle tension that had been there before disappeared.

Instead, there is a sense of composure and...danger, as if one is holding some kind of trump card?

"If you've already had breakfast, we need to head out as soon as possible."

Klein didn't ask any further questions. He simply swallowed the last piece of bread in a few bites, put on his top hat, and said seriously:

"Let's go to the Brave Ones Bar."

Orion nodded without saying a word.

He naturally knew what he was going to do.

As a transmigrator who was well-versed in the original novels of Mystery and the Lost, he understood the current situation even better than Klein:

Ambassador Beckeron of Intis already knew about Meursault's failure.

The ensuing retaliation will be devastating.

In order to survive, Klein had to go to that chaotic East District.

Find the black market merchant named Caspas.

Or directly contact the extraordinary individuals within that circle.

They are trying to hire a powerful bodyguard who can stand up to official forces.

"Let's go, great detective."

Orion didn't say anything unnecessary.

He subconsciously touched the dark red smudge hidden under his sleeve.

He opened the door first, letting the cold wind outside rush in.

He glanced back at Klein, who was still struggling with his decision.

His tone was calm, exuding a certainty that inexplicably reassured the great detective:

"If we need help, let's look in the most chaotic places."

……

Iron Gate Street, East of Backland.

Brave Ones Bar.

Even during the day, the place is still filled with a murky smell of cheap tobacco, alcohol, and sweat.

Several drunkards were lying across the middle of the aisle.

They sized up the two well-dressed "gentlemen" with ill intent.

Klein instinctively reached for the gun holster under his arm.

But Orion was faster than him.

He did not use that dangerous sealing artifact—

That's for killing people, not for disciplining drunkards.

He simply took a step forward and stood in front of Klein, his face expressionless.

Those eyes, hidden in the shadows, coldly swept over the drunkards.

The chilling aura of a "master magician" walking on a tightrope was released without reservation for a moment.

Those were eyes that had truly seen blood.

The drunkard, who had originally intended to cause trouble, was instantly sobered up as if doused with cold water, and he withdrew his feet while cursing.

"Over here."

Orion acted as if nothing had happened, protecting Klein as they walked through the crowd.

He pushed open the door to the card and chess room at the back.

Behind the door, however, there was no commotion as expected.

Instead, there was a chilling, deathly silence.

A dozen or so card players sat around the table, mechanically tossing their chips around.

Their faces were deathly pale, their eyes were cloudy like those of wild beasts, and their chests didn't rise or fall at all.

A group of dead people are playing cards.

The moment Klein activated his spiritual vision, his back stiffened abruptly.

The room was filled with a deep, dark atmosphere.

Apart from the white-shirted man who slowly stood up in the very center, the rest were all zombies.

A putrid stench hit us.

Orion, however, remained calm and took a half-step forward, blocking the somewhat stiff Klein.

His gaze swept past the stench-filled corpses and puppets, landing squarely on the only living person—

Marich.

"You need bodyguards? What are the specifics?"

Maric didn't tell the surrounding "corpses" to move away; he simply raised his chin indifferently.

Klein hesitated for a few seconds before choosing the most subtle yet deadly description:

"I've offended a big shot."

He paused, then added the most crucial modifier:

"There may be a country backing them up."

Dead silence.

The already oppressive room became completely frozen.

Maric's malicious eyes froze for a moment, as if he had heard some taboo word.

The silence lasted for a full minute.

"The mission is priceless."

Marich lowered his head again and began mechanically shuffling the cards, his tone completely flat:

"go out."

Klein was stunned.

He never expected that this extraordinary individual, who had acted so strangely and powerfully, would be so easily frightened by a single sentence.

The words of explanation stuck in his throat, ultimately turning into a helpless sigh.

"Sorry to bother you."

But at that moment...

Orian, who had been standing silently to the side, did not move.

His gaze passed over Marich and landed with remarkable precision on an empty corner on the left side of the room.

That spot was tricky; it was right in the blind spot of the mirror.

It's also the place with the densest shadows—

This is where Sharon is hiding.

Maric's hand, which was shuffling the cards, suddenly froze in mid-air.

In that instant, the deathly aura emanating from him almost went out of control.

Those cloudy eyes were fixed on Orian, and a storm raged in his mind:

"We've been discovered?!"

"Miss Sharon is there!"

"How could this seemingly insignificant lackey possibly have discovered Miss Sharon in her 'vengeful spirit' state?!"

"How is that possible... His spiritual feedback is clearly only at Sequence 8 level..."

"Is it a disguise? Could he be a high-ranking powerhouse skilled at concealing his aura, or even a demigod 'playing' the role of a detective's assistant?"

"Or is he carrying a Level 2 sealed artifact with the insight of a 'Mystic Master'? Or perhaps the all-seeing eye that pierces the soul through the 'Audience' pathway?"

Regardless of the type, someone who can instantly see through the concealment of a "vengeful spirit" is definitely not an ordinary detective assistant.

This is definitely a monster from an ancient, secretive organization.

Under Marich's extremely wary gaze.

Orion simply stared silently at the mass of air.

Then, raise your hand and press it against your chest.

He performed a perfectly impeccable gentlemanly hat-tipping in front of that empty corner.

His movements were graceful, and his eyes were clear.

"Since 'you' feel it's dangerous, then we won't force you."

Orion's voice was soft, yet it carried a certainty that seemed to see through everything.

He put his hat back on and smiled slightly at the astonished Marich:

"However, if it doesn't involve combat, it's just that kind of 'watching' and 'protection' hidden in a mirror or shadow."

"Perhaps we will have the opportunity to cooperate again in the future."

Done.