Mystery: The Traveler Who Holds the Star Key

Orion leaned against the doorframe, watching his boss walk into the hall with a leisurely air.

Although Klein had his hands in his pockets and his back was ramrod straight.

But as the sole audience member, Orion astutely observed—

The boss's legs seem a bit stiff.

Especially when passing by that pile of snakeskins, Klein's pace noticeably quickened by half a beat.

What a pretentious person.

Orion chuckled inwardly, but outwardly he still applauded in a very cooperative manner:

"Boss, that last teamwork was absolutely perfect."

Klein stopped and looked around the hall, which was filled with the style of the Fourth Age.

His gaze swept over the eerie upside-down candlesticks, his tone so calm it betrayed no emotion:

"Of this 50 pounds... I'll give you 12 pounds."

Orion's smile vanished instantly, and his brain began to perform some kind of precise calculation that didn't actually exist.

"12 pounds..."

He murmured softly, his finger tapping lightly in the air:

"2880 Dipsy pies."

"In other words, my snap of the fingers just now blew up an entire mountain of flour."

He looked up at Klein with a complex expression, his tone carrying a tragic resolve, as if he had accepted his exploitation:

"Deal, boss."

"Although my conscience tells me it's a huge loss, my stomach tells me..."

"That money will keep it quiet for a long time."

Fine.

£12 is still money, better than starving.

To cover up the pain of being exploited by "capitalists".

Orion could only turn his attention to the ruins in front of him.

He moved closer to Klein and followed the boss's gaze to the statue.

It was a man in armor with a dignified face.

But the carving technique of those eyes was extremely strange, exuding an uncomfortable sense of distortion.

Upon seeing this, Orion clearly sensed a change in Klein's aura beside him.

The DNA of a "history major" seemed to stir at that moment.

"Boss, look at that expression."

Orion pointed to the statue's distorted eyes, his tone suggestive, carrying a hint of mockery that only the two of them could understand:

"This aura is both dignified and a bit... 'weird'."

"Is he similar to that 'diplomat' we've been dealing with lately?"

The way "lawyers" distort rules and exploit loopholes is exactly like the style of this statue.

Klein was taken aback.

He gave Orian a deep look, then looked back at the statue, seemingly acknowledging the assessment.

"The Corrupted Baron..."

Klein muttered something to himself.

Snakes, upside-down candlesticks, statues reminiscent of "lawyers"...

Looking at his boss's increasingly serious profile, Orion knew he had it all figured out.

Without him needing to say anything more, Klein had already become alert.

"knock off."

Just when Orion thought the great detective was about to give a long speech...

Klein suddenly turned around, his steps light and quick:

"Let's go back. I suddenly feel like I could have something better for dinner."

Orion's eyes lit up: "Am I going to treat you again?!"

"It depends on your performance."

Klein walked to the door, his hand just touching the doorknob, when he suddenly stopped.

That detective's professional ethics made him sigh.

"etc."

Klein turned around and pointed to the several tightly closed black stone doors at the back of the hall:

"Open these doors before you leave. Mr. Miller is still waiting outside to hear the 'home inspection report.'"

Orion's smile froze.

As someone who knows the plot, he naturally knows what's behind those doors.

That's not "inspecting the house," that's "losing your life."

He pursed his lips, resignedly picked up the lantern, and followed, muttering to himself:

"Boss, I have a feeling... that these remaining doors might hold something that could send us to the stake."

"Shut up. Get to work."

……

The black hall, the first door on the left.

The door is engraved with an intricate, deep black emblem, from which one can vaguely discern a crimson moon, half-hidden and half-revealed.

As a devout follower of the goddess of night, Klein was all too familiar with this pattern.

"May the goddess protect you."

He drew a crimson moon on his chest.

Although in this eerie Quaternary ruin, this action has some element of seeking psychological comfort.

He pushed open the stone door with force.

The room behind the door was small, with a statue at the far end.

The moment the dim light of the lantern illuminated the statue, Klein's breath caught in his throat.

That wasn't the abstract holy emblem commonly seen in churches.

That's a woman.

A woman breathtakingly beautiful, yet radiating endless tranquility.

She was wearing a long, elaborate dress with multiple layers.

The skirt is inlaid with tiny gemstones, as if she were wearing the entire dazzling starry sky.

She lay on her side on the stone platform, her posture languid yet noble, her head resting on a round wheel like a full moon.

Although it was just a cold stone, there was a gentleness and mystery in its eyes.

It was as if they had traveled through a thousand years of time, watching the intruders before them.

nice.

Extremely beautiful.

It was a divine beauty that transcended gender and worldly conventions, a beauty that made one want to kneel down in repentance and sleep peacefully in her arms at first glance.

But in Klein's mind, it was as if a thunderbolt had exploded.

Blasphemy!

This is blasphemy!

In orthodox church doctrine, the divine spirit only has holy symbols and must never have a physical human form!

Carve the Goddess Eagle as a woman reclining languidly?

In modern Backlund, this would be enough to send both the sculptor and the viewer to the gallows!

"This is too much..."

Klein opened his mouth, his mind wavering between "reverence" and "amazement".

He wanted to denounce it as heresy, but he couldn't bear to look away from the statue.

That was the goddess of night he worshipped.

So... she does have a face.

"Tsk."

A soft laugh suddenly came from beside me.

It wasn't blasphemy, but rather a kind of... amazement, as if seeing some incredible "private photo".

Orion, carrying a lantern, approached the statue, the light casting dappled shadows on its face.

"That's really strange, boss."

He pointed to the reclining goddess, his tone carrying a strange excitement:

"Look at her."

"It has no majesty, no divinity, and even the 'unbearable' mosaic has been removed."

He turned to Klein, whose expression was complex, and uttered a comment that was enough to make the Night Watchman lose control on the spot:

"This looks like..."

"A woman who had been working overtime for a thousand years finally took off her high heels in a corner where no one could see her and had a good night's sleep."

"That's too extravagant."

"This sense of relaxation is something even the Pope doesn't dare to have."

"Nonsense!"

Klein muttered a rebuke, feeling his sanity return slightly.

He took one last deep look at the goddess who had slept there for a thousand years, forcibly suppressing the inexplicable throbbing in his heart.

"close the door."

"This is not the 'safety hazard' we are looking for; this is a theological hazard."

……

What followed turned into a nerve-wracking "stamp-collecting journey".

The second door from the left.

A statue of a plump, kind-looking woman holding a baby.

"Earth Mother Goddess."

Orian's comment: "It looks very maternal and would be suitable to be placed at the entrance of an obstetrics and gynecology clinic."

The first door on the right.

A furious man with a trident in hand and hair standing on end.

Lord of Storms.

Orion shook his head: "With that temper, you can feel him cursing even through the stone."

No wonder those grumpy old pigeons were all acting like they'd eaten gunpowder.

God of War, Eternal Sun, God of Knowledge and Wisdom...

Six statues.

Six righteous gods.

Here, they live together like a family.

Even the style of the statues is full of the "human and divine coexistence" feeling unique to that crazy era.

"He's gone mad..."

Klein looked at the circle of statues and felt a chill run down his spine.

Except for that elusive god of steam and machinery.

The six great gods of the world today have gathered in this basement.

Moreover, it is in such an extremely "blasphemous" human form.

This is not a basement.

This is the "illegal construction" of the gods of the Fourth Age.

"There's only one door left."

Orion's voice suddenly turned somber.

He stood in front of the half-open stone door on the left, his earlier playful smile gone.

There are no statues there.

Only a strong, pungent smell of blood, as if it had just been splashed there, was seeping out through the cracks in the door.

Klein walked over.

He activated his spiritual vision and peeked through the crack in the door.

Just one glance.

He felt the Azik bronze whistle he was holding instantly turn icy cold, as if he were holding a piece of ancient ice.

The skin on my right arm began to swell and itch violently; it was a frantic warning from my spirit!

run!

Although he didn't know what was inside, the absolute suppression of his status made every cell in his body scream.

Before he could even shout it out.

A hand suddenly grabbed the back of his collar.

Just as Klein was about to be locked onto by that terrifying aura.

Snapped.

A cold hand silently pressed against his eyes.

There was no screaming.

No nonsense.

Orion's face was ashen, but he held his breath.

He moved with an extremely stiff, yet irrationally fast motion—

He suddenly pulled Klein backward.

boom!

With his other hand, he slammed the stone door shut.

The view was blocked, and that malicious gaze was blocked.

"Walk."

Orion's voice sounded like it was being squeezed out from between his teeth, with a physiological tremor:

Don't look back.

"Unless you want to become part of that door."

Without any hesitation.

The two who were just a moment ago commenting on the gods.

This moment is like a groundhog that has accidentally wandered into a dragon's lair.

He turned around and ran.

Ding Ding Deng!

Footsteps echoed in the deathly silent hall.

The two scrambled out of the passageway and out of the basement.

Only when I saw the dim, yellowish sky outside at dusk, which smelled of coal smoke, did I dare to stop and catch my breath.

"Huff... huff..."

Klein held his knees, feeling like his heart was about to jump out of his throat.

Just a moment ago.

He could clearly feel a cold, mocking, and bloodthirsty gaze upon him.

I was standing quietly behind that door, watching their backs as they walked away.

"What the hell is that thing...?"

Klein was still shaken.

"have no idea."

Orion wiped away a cold sweat and said very sincerely:

"But I suggest that the door should be welded shut."

"Unless we want to become the seventh and eighth statues down there."