Wait, could you take less than 600 pounds...
Mr. A inside the study had already turned his gaze toward them. Angel swallowed her unspoken words.
"Excellent. It seems you've reached consensus." The chin visible beneath his hood twitched—apparently he was smiling. "By the way, this Cat Lady seems different from last time?"
Mr. A looked toward Angel, his gaze beneath the hood carrying scrutiny and inquiry, asking as if casually.
"Just another partner," Dominic said, stepping forward. "Where's the mystical item you mentioned?"
Withdrawing his scrutinizing gaze, Mr. A produced a palm-sized exquisite wooden box from beneath his robe, opened it, turned it around, and placed it on the desk.
Inside lay a silver-white ring with an antique design, engraved with intricate yet orderly patterns. But strangely, once she looked away, Angel found it difficult to recall the ring's appearance or the patterns' shapes.
"It's called the 'Ring of Madness,' a mystical item formed from Beyonder characteristics that precipitated after a mid-sequence Beyonder's death. The wearer gains a psychological sense of unfamiliarity—even those who've seen and know them will perceive them as a stranger, unable to recognize their true appearance, leaving no deep impression afterward."
Taking up the ring, Mr. A demonstrated by placing it on his left index finger, then removed his robe's hood.
Beneath was an utterly unremarkable face—regular features but lacking appeal, like middle-aged men seen everywhere on the street.
Then, before their eyes, he removed the silver ring.
Angel felt her vision blur. Mr. A's unmemorable face became beautiful and alluring, as if he'd consumed a "Witch" potion but hadn't fully transformed into female—caught in an intermediate state.
"This is its effect."
Mr. A said slowly.
Much more powerful than the "sense of unfamiliarity" described... While wearing the ring, I didn't even notice his outstanding beauty. Um, is it appropriate to use that word for a male...
As thoughts swirled in her mind, Angel suddenly realized she couldn't recall Mr. A's ordinary, crowd-blending face when he wore the ring.
Based on this mystical "psychological unfamiliarity," she guessed the ring likely originated from an "Audience" pathway Beyonder, probably a sequence following "Mind Reader"—most likely Sequence 7. Any higher and it wouldn't be worth merely 2000 pounds.
Returning the ring to its box, Mr. A continued:
"Besides this, the ring grants the wearer an actively-used Beyonder ability: 'Madness.'"
"It can detonate the target's negative emotions or psychological states, plunging them into madness, making them forget themselves and lose sanity, even causing certain mentally unstable individuals to directly lose control."
He looked at both of them, his mouth curving upward in a graceful arc.
"Would you like a demonstration?"
"No need, we trust you," Angel quickly responded. Images of "ditches," "overconfident challengers," and similar phrases tied to Mr. A's name floated through her mind. "So, what's its negative effect?"
The power of mystical items depended not only on ability strength but also on the severity of negative effects.
"Anyone wearing it will continuously accumulate and amplify desires for any need—physiological needs like eating and drinking, or psychological needs like conversation and confiding." Mr. A smiled slightly, as if recalling something amusing. "Even after removing the ring, it only stops the desire's intensification, not the effect itself. You must satisfy these psychologically-driven needs to stop the negative effect."
"Psychological cravings? So you're not actually hungry or thirsty?"
Angel asked.
"Correct. So if worn too long, you'll either go mad from hunger and thirst, or overeat until your stomach bursts. That's the ring's negative effect."
Mr. A closed the box lid, picked up the wooden container holding the ring, re-donned his hood, and stepped forward.
He seemed to have identified who truly controlled the transaction, looking toward "Cat Lady" Angel rather than "Clown" Dominic who'd initially contacted him.
If he suddenly ripped off my mask now, would he discover I'm one of the Nighthawks who prevented his Lord of Creation's descent in Tingen...
Angel instinctively retreated a step, distancing herself from the Aurora Order Divine Envoy, then reached for the document folder containing the difference engine manuscript.
"By the way," she suddenly remembered that all her cash wasn't enough to pay Dominic his rightful thirty percent share. Her extended hand withdrew. "About this transaction—I mean regarding payment to us—could you add another 200 pounds?"
Mr. A's hand, already extended to receive the folder, froze in mid-air. His pale skin seemed to flush slightly crimson.
"Reason?"
After a moment of silence, a low inquiry emerged from beneath the hood, carrying more puzzlement than anger.
"We, we're out of money..."
"I was ready to smash through the window and escape right then! You crazy woman—even I didn't dare provoke him!"
Leaving the study and walking through the corridor back to the hall, the Provocateur Dominic spoke in a trembling whisper, his eyes constantly glancing backward as if afraid Mr. A might pursue them.
Angel also felt she'd lost her mind, daring to haggle with a likely Sequence 5 Aurora Order Divine Envoy.
"I was trying to get money for you! I don't even have 600 pounds on me... Though I was definitely influenced by the 'Ring of Madness' just now. It amplified my desire for gold pounds."
She invented a reason.
"[Ruen profanity], that ring wasn't even in your hand at the time."
Fortunately, Mr. A hadn't erupted, sending them both into some ditch. Instead, he'd sent a subordinate to produce 200 pounds in cash of various denominations, exchanging it along with the "Ring of Madness" for the difference engine manuscript.
Looking at the newly acquired 200 pounds cobbled together from bills of various sizes, Angel suspected this Mr. A might not be as prosperous as he appeared. Perhaps he had to rent this Queens residence, support a group of subordinates, and was currently running at a loss...
Returning to the gathering hall, free conversation continued, though some members had already left the noisy space. Now only about a dozen people remained scattered about, discussing mysticism-related information in small groups.
The pair returned to their seats, moving chairs to face away from the crowd, blocking others' sight lines and the deliberately dimmed gas lamps hanging above.
Angel reluctantly produced 400 pounds, combining them with the 200 pounds just obtained from Mr. A, and handed everything to Dominic. She watched him turn sideways, count each bill carefully in the lamplight, then stuff them into his pocket and pat it theatrically.
"Now we're even."
He said with a smile, his earlier tension before Mr. A now diluted by gold pounds.
Though he'd complained about receiving only thirty percent, with 600 pounds now secured, the Provocateur showed satisfaction. Angel seized the opportunity to ask how to attend this gathering regularly, easily obtaining the answer. From next time forward, she could come independently.
"Every day's Beckhland Morning Post—if there's a gathering scheduled, the fifth page will carry a missing person notice: 'Seeking Mr. A.' The contact address inside hints at the meeting time."
He just brazenly publishes his name in the newspaper?
Angel was somewhat astonished, but considering this Aurora Order Divine Envoy dared hold Beyonder gatherings in Beckhland's Queens district, she realized this wasn't particularly surprising.
They conversed intermittently. Angel suddenly felt a probing gaze from behind. Thinking it was Mr. A returning to the venue, she instinctively looked back, only to discover it was the two women who'd entered last. The taller one saw her cat mask and couldn't suppress her laughter, until the shorter one elbowed her waist, making her straighten her expression again.
"Let's go. Stop staring. What's so funny about a cat mask? Maybe there's a powerful Beyonder behind it who'll track you home and burn you to ashes."
Hugh Dilcha elbowed her companion Fors Wall, who was nearly laughing aloud. Unfortunately, due to their height difference, she only struck her waist, but it successfully stopped her friend's laughter, preventing her from waking up tomorrow as some Beyonder's victim.
"Okay, okay, but it really is adorable..."
Fors suppressed her amusement, following Hugh as they left Mr. A's gathering venue and emerged onto streets beneath the crimson moon.
Looking at the nearly full round moon overhead, she sighed quietly, noticing Hugh's worried gaze.
"Let's go back and rest early. Tomorrow we still need to visit Miss Audrey to collect payment for this commission. Maybe you'll soon be able to buy that 'Sheriff' formula."
"That's 450 pounds. Will Miss Audrey really be that generous?"
"More generous than you imagine."
Two figures, one tall and one short, gradually walked into the distance beneath the crimson moonlight.