Mystery: The Traveler Who Holds the Star Key

"Don't move..."

As Kasim's mournful voice still echoed, Ross collapsed to the ground.

Orion could only sigh helplessly:

"The acting is too exaggerated, Mr. Audra."

Without even looking at his legs, he precisely pinched the air on the outside of his thigh with two long, slender fingers.

"squeak--!!"

A piercing, shrill whistle exploded.

A wildly twisted black shadow appeared out of nowhere at Orion's fingertip.

"This kind of low-level 'tactile illusion' is meaningless except for wrinkling your trouser legs."

His tone was disdainful, as if he were picking up a rat from a sewer and casually tossing it away.

Snapped.

The dark shadow fell back onto the tray, instantly collapsing and transforming into a neatly folded black square scarf.

Two seconds of dead silence.

"Slap, slap, slap."

Kasimi instantly suppressed his fear, straightened up, and his face showed only the cunning and admiration of an old merchant:

"Brilliant, being able to grab the entity of fear with bare hands even in the face of 'midnight'."

"Mr. Zangwell, you are qualified to wield this sealed artifact."

The black silk handkerchief was embroidered with circles of subtle silver patterns.

At first glance, it looks like countless closed eyes.

"Code name 2-117, Midnight Handkerchief".

Kasim's voice was very low:

"The legacy left by a 'nightmare'."

No spell is needed, just take it out and shake it vigorously—

Of course, you have to remember to close your eyes.

The old vampire made a gesture reminiscent of a magician taking his final bow:

"An invisible 'soothing ripple' will sweep across 15 meters in front of you."

Every living being with its eyes open will be forcibly kicked into sleep, and will sleep for a full three seconds.

three seconds.

Orion slowly adjusted his gloves, his fingertips lightly touching the cool silk.

As an extraordinary being, he knew all too well what those three seconds meant.

But he picked up the handkerchief, examined the stitches through his glasses, and his tone revealed a casual disdain:

"Sounds good. But..."

He turned his head and asked a question from an extremely tricky angle:

"What if my enemy is the police... I mean, the official 'night watchmen'?"

Kasimi paused for a moment, then coughed awkwardly.

"Cough... This is a product of the nighttime pathway."

For those on night duty... it was not only ineffective, it was like lighting a fire in the darkness.

"What about the corpse?" Orion pressed.

"...No, that won't work either. Corpses don't need to sleep."

Kasimi rubbed his hands awkwardly, seemingly realizing that just pointing out the flaws wouldn't sell the product, so he added another blow:

"And that brings us to its... a little bit of a negative effect."

The old vampire made a "sleepless" gesture, his voice sounding somewhat weak:

"This is, after all, a remnant of the 'Nightmare'."

"If you carry it with you, you will find it difficult to fall asleep."

And once it's used, for the next 24 hours...

You will have to stare wide-eyed like a drug-addled madman until dawn.

"ha."

Orion let out a short, snickering laugh, as if he had heard some bad joke:

"Ineffective against night watchmen, ineffective against corpses."

He pointed to the lacquer box, his tone full of incomprehension:

"And it also comes with 24 hours of forced insomnia?"

"This design, which treats 'self-torture' as a side effect, is simply the pinnacle of anti-humanity."

In the corner, the young vampire Ross once again swirled his wine glass, letting out a piercing, mocking laugh:

"Just say you can't afford it."

You're the kind of rat who only knows how to hide in the sewers.

That's why they're always thinking about how to deal with the police.

Orion didn't even turn his head.

He was silent for a few seconds, then finally sighed.

With a tone that suggested he was only doing it to match his outfit, he held up the cold handkerchief and gestured it across his suit collar.

"Although its functionality is rather limited, its pure black color matches my suit quite well."

After saying that, he quickly folded the handkerchief, stuffed it back into the black lacquer box that could isolate spiritual energy, and snapped the clasp shut.

He reached out his finger, pressed the lid of the box, and slid it to the corner of the table next to him.

This is an extremely domineering act that asserts sovereignty.

"Let's leave it for now."

Orion patted the box lid as if it were a discounted tie he'd casually bought on the street:

"I'll keep it as a decoration, albeit reluctantly."

Seeing this human's stubbornness and the obvious truth in his actions, Kasimi's lips twitched.

But he immediately seized the opportunity and quickly lifted the velvet cloth on the second small tray next to it:

"Since you've accepted this 'decoration,' why don't you take a look at this... real 'home-cooked dish'?"

In the center of the tray lay a translucent prism, about the size of a thumb.

It was as cloudy as a piece of undissolved rock candy, with what appeared to be grayish-white flocculent material slowly wriggling inside.

"Personality Prism"

Kasim introduced in a slightly seductive, hoarse voice:

"It can be like an invisible scalpel, splitting the soul of the target in two."

Half rational, half insane.

Then let them kill each other inside the same body.

Orion narrowed his eyes, staring at the crystal:

"side effect?"

"Severe cognitive impairment."

A wicked smile crept across Kasimi's withered face; it was the kind of expression that seemed to enjoy watching a good show.

"Within 24 hours of use, you may firmly believe that you are a mushroom or a chair."

He paused, his tone light as if describing some peculiar fetish:

"At that time, you will be unable to suppress your desire to be watered, trampled, or perhaps...

"I long to be seated upon, to feel... the weight of humanity."

puff.

Rose, standing behind him, burst out laughing:

"Buy it, human."

Anyway, your short life wasn't worth much.

Being a mushroom for a day might even contribute some oxygen to the world.

Orion ignored the fly.

He picked up the prism and shook it, a playful smile curving his lips.

"Turns into a mushroom?"

"In this noisy city, to have a day to quietly be a mushroom, without having to listen to the nonsense of some idiots..."

He glanced meaningfully behind him and nodded with satisfaction:

"This is simply a holiday from God."

This side effect is, for me, a 'dessert'.

Snapped.

Orion tossed the prism back onto the tray, leaned back, and resumed his casual conversation about the weather:

"I want it."

"Including that 'decorative item' from before. Pack it up and pay the bill."

You bought it already?

Kasimi clearly wasn't giving anyone a chance to back out, quickly flicking the bone abacus in his hand twice:

"For White's sake, a friendly price for two items, totaling £4500."

The air was quiet for a second.

4500 pounds.

That's enough to hire a steam infantry company to serve for a year.

Ross held his wine glass, his eyes mocking, waiting to see this penniless scoundrel who only knew how to talk big make a fool of himself.

however.

Orion didn't even raise an eyebrow.

"Very fair."

Orion nodded, his tone as calm as if he were paying two pence for a newspaper.

He picked up the suitcase and gently tapped a hidden mechanism on the side of the suitcase with his finger.

Click.

That was a sound that only he could hear, a sound of the internal compartments locking shut.

That pitiful £1500 in cash was instantly sealed in a secure compartment at the bottom of the box.

Orion's lips curled slightly as he flipped the suitcase over and placed it face down on the table.

Splash!

There was no shocking scene of mountains of gold pounds as I had imagined.

They didn't even have a single copper coin.

Only a few thin, yellowed sheets of paper floated down beside the expensive "Prism of Personality".

The handwriting was messy, and there were even a few ink spots.

"ha?!"

Ross paused for a second, then burst into a piercing, maniacal laugh:

"Paper?! Hahahaha! This penniless country bumpkin! He wants to pay with waste paper?! Feed him to the dogs!!"

Emlyn covered his face, so ashamed he wanted to disappear into the ground.

Kasimi Audra was the only one who didn't laugh.

The old vampire's gaze froze the moment those few sheets of paper fell.

His pupils suddenly contracted, and his hand, which had been wiping the candlestick, even trembled slightly.

That's... that special symbolic structure...

Orion slowly adjusted his cuffs without giving a direct answer.

He stretched out his long, slender finger and pointed at a seemingly random doodle on one of the diary pages.

"Waste paper? You actually said that Emperor Rosell's diary is waste paper?"

Orion lowered his voice and slowly uttered a few words in Hermes, a language only he and Cassim could understand, words that were enough to drive the entire vampire clan mad:

"The coordinates of the 'Moon Card'."

"Regarding the...true shadow behind that 'primordial moon'..."

Dead silence.

Ross's laughter was instantly cut off as if by an invisible giant hand.

The usually composed Kasimi's pupils contracted sharply at that moment.

Like a hungry wolf that has smelled blood, he pounced on the table and tremblingly picked up the few sheets of paper.

"This...this symbolic structure..."

The old vampire's fingers frantically traced the lines of "garbled Chinese characters".

Although he couldn't understand those Chinese characters.

But under Orion's "guidance" just now.

He seemed to see a trajectory pointing to the stars in those messy strokes.

I have seen some kind of immortal revelation about the apex of the "lunar path"!

"It's true..."

Kasimi suddenly looked up, his eyes no longer filled with greed, but with an almost manic fervor:

"The order contained within this chaos... this aura that points directly to the origin!!"

"Four pages! A whole four pages!!"

He was so excited that he was incoherent, and even tried to grab Orion's sleeve, his voice hoarse as if he were roaring:

"Anything else, sir? Do you have any further interpretations regarding 'that location'?"

"Even if it's just a coordinate! The Audra family is willing to pay any price!!"

Orion subtly took a half step back, avoiding the other's touch.

He patted the empty box, his face displaying that enigmatic, regretful expression befitting a "top con artist":

"That's all."

"The remaining content has not yet been 'salvaged' from the fog of history."

"As for what's hidden in these pages... is it the stairway to the throne of the moon goddess, or the delirium of Emperor Roselle...?"

Orion's eyes were playful:

"Then it depends on whether you have the 'comprehension' to decode it."

"Since we have enough to pay the bill..."

After saying that, he casually swept the two sealed items into the box as if he were taking back an umbrella, and turned to leave.

As I passed the sofa.

He stopped and took out a one-penny copper coin.

Ding.

The copper coin traced an arc and landed precisely in Ross's expensive wine glass, splashing wine all over him.

"Here's your tip."

Orion straightened his collar, leaving behind a dashing silhouette:

"Although the service was terrible, as part of the atmosphere team... your silly laugh just now was quite entertaining."