Mystery: The Traveler Who Holds the Star Key

Above the gray fog, there was a deathly silence.

Orion remained silent.

He simply watched the "salted fish writer" who had huddled up in a ball, his fingers tapping idly on the armrest.

On the surface, this is the "tower" exerting silent pressure on offenders.

But in reality, Orion was rapidly manipulating the abacus beads in his mind.

Emlyn is useful, but it has too many limitations.

In the eyes of those shrewd nobles.

Emlyn has been bound to "Viscount Feneport".

This identity is too "heavy" to change once it's established.

He can't play a foreign nobleman one day and a homeless person on the street the next.

To expand the "fortune telling" business in Backlund.

One fixed face alone is definitely not enough.

He needs more diverse and less conspicuous "masks".

For example, the person in front of me...

Orion's gaze swept over Fors imperceptibly.

A bestselling author, skilled at crafting stories with logically closed loops.

The former clinic doctor possessed an innate approachability that made people feel at ease.

Most importantly, she was an "apprentice" just like him.

Although it is still very weak now.

But his amazing skill of "picking locks through walls" is remarkable.

This means she has the highest "escape tolerance" among low-series animals.

A scriptwriter, harmless-looking, and able to escape through walls if he messes up his performance... an all-around substitute.

It's practically a perfect downstream solution tailor-made for fraud... no, for actuaries.

The longer the silence lasted, the more violently Fors trembled at the end of the long table.

The suffocating feeling of being scrutinized by those in power made her feel like a salted fish waiting to be scaled on a chopping board.

"Mr. Tower..."

"Justice" Audrey couldn't stand it anymore.

She spoke softly, trying to break the suffocating silence:

"Miss Magician has just joined and doesn't know the rules here."

I don't think she meant to offend the taboos of the Abrahamic family.

Alger, the "Hanged Man," sat opposite him, watching coldly, but inwardly scoffing.

A thousand-year-old taboo?

Ha, just the recipe for Sequence 8.

In the extraordinary gatherings of the wild, there's no taboo that can't be bought if you're willing to spend the money.

This "Tower" man's heart is blacker than coal dust in the sea.

He's asking for an exorbitant price.

at last.

Just a second before Fors was about to faint from lack of oxygen, Orion stopped banging.

"You're right, Miss Justice."

Orion sighed, as if he had made an extremely difficult decision, one that even went against the wishes of his ancestors:

"Although it's taboo, this is, after all, a gathering hosted by Mr. 'Fool'."

He looked at Fors, his tone shifting from icy to a stern, testing quality:

"You can have the recipe."

But I need to confirm whether you are qualified to bear this 'fate'.

"Tomorrow at 2 PM, we'll go to St. Samuel's Church in the North District."

I found one of my...juniors on the third row of benches in the main hall.

Orion remained composed, lying without batting an eye:

"He took care of my chores in Backlund."

If you can pass his "interview," the recipe is yours.

Fors looked up abruptly, the fear in his eyes instantly transforming into the ecstatic joy of escaping death:

"Yes! No problem! I'll be there on time!"

Audrey also breathed a barely perceptible sigh of relief.

Only Klein, sitting at the head of the table, had his eyebrows twitching wildly, hidden behind the gray mist.

Junior?

Orion, you look like you're only in your early twenties.

What is your junior? A Young Pioneer who has just started elementary school?

Or are you planning to wear a fake beard and play the role of the "junior"?

This isn't a test; it's clearly an attempt to lure people in and turn them into laborers...

……

The deal was struck, and the party continued.

Klein, manipulating the "world," briefly explained the payment process for "sacrificing cash to Mr. Fool."

Derrick, the "Sun" at the corner of the long table, suddenly raised his hand.

"I want to know..."

Although the boy's voice was still young, it conveyed a earnest thirst for knowledge.

"Who exactly are these 'Seven Gods'?"

hum.

These words were like a depth charge, causing Fors, who had just relaxed, to widen her eyes again.

It's like someone asking on the streets of Backlund, "Is the King of Rune a man or a woman?"

This is a shocking lack of common sense and ignorance.

"He is not in the Northern Continent."

Audrey kindly explained to the shocked Fors:

"He comes from a very ancient place that none of us can reach."

Fors shut his mouth, his perception of the "high-end" nature of this gathering being refreshed once again.

The following time was dedicated to a paid Q&A session featuring "The Sun".

Orion had no interest in this.

Silver City is too far from Backlund; it's a place abandoned by the gods.

All he wants now is to make money and guard against Jason Beria.

So he leaned back in his chair.

Watching General Ke and Political Commissar Dao take turns explaining the basics of the "Seven Gods" to the simple-minded boy.

Then I listened to the boy recount the despairing "Silver City Creation Myth".

until.

That name appeared.

"...In ancient mythology, Fregra, known as the 'King of the Dire Wolves,' perished in the depths of darkness..."

Fregra.

Klein, who had been silent all along, suddenly clenched his fingers.

The nightmarish murmurs I'd heard during my promotion echoed in my ears once more—

"Honakis...Fregora..."

"I want to know everything about Fregra."

For the first time, the hoarse voice of "World" carried a hint of urgency.

"I'm sorry," Derrick shook his head, "I only know that it is also known as the 'Destruction Wolf' and the 'Night Wolf'."

Night...

Klein chewed on the word, his unease growing stronger.

He didn't press further, but quickly changed the subject.

Since that secret organization has been involved...

He attempted to use the helper who had assisted him in killing Rosago—

Maric's characteristics were used to verify the intelligence in reverse:

"So, do you know what kind of pathway those extraordinary individuals with cold bodies who are skilled at controlling 'living corpses' belong to?"

"An alien species."

Derrick answered quickly:

"That is, the 'prisoner' route. In our culture, it represents bound madness."

Klein nodded slightly.

The Rose School...

The intelligence puzzle has finally been partially completed.

As the sun's knowledge reserves were depleted, the gathering drew to a close.

Just when everyone thought the day was about to end.

Alger, the "Hanged Man" who had been silent and seemingly weighing something, suddenly turned his head, looked at the tower, and then at the world.

"I have a request."

Alger's voice was low and resolute, carrying a sense of determination as he prepared to face a storm:

"I need to rent a magical item... powerful enough to instantly change the course of a battle."

"For this, I can pay a high rental fee, or an equivalent amount of nautical intelligence."

All eyes immediately focused on them.

Orion raised an eyebrow.

It seems this captain of the Church of Storms is in big trouble lately.