Chapter 26: Thinking of Running After Offending Nairn?
Besides, he really did feel an itch in his heart.
The gray fog, that mysterious space—as its "master," he actually knew very little about it.
Everything Nairn had just said—the true names, the symbolic signs—filled him with awe and curiosity about that place.
If he could see with his own eyes how a sacrificial ritual worked, and what kind of effects those incantations and true names would trigger in the real world, it would be of immense benefit to his future acting as "The Fool."
This was a once-in-a-lifetime live demonstration!
At this thought, Klein's gaze gradually became firm.
Let's do it!
Isn't it just acting? Who's afraid of whom!
I can manage to put on a decent front at the Tarot Club, and now with a "director" like Nairn teaching me hand-in-hand, why should I worry about messing up?
After all, if something goes wrong—
Wouldn't fellow countryman Nairn have my back?
Klein was truly afraid that trying some ritual at random would get him killed again.
After all—
That Luck-Enhancement Ritual had left him with a certain psychological shadow.
He had said before that he would never dare to recklessly try that so-called "Luck-Enhancement Ritual" again.
By extension, he felt a bit apprehensive about other rituals as well.
God knows what would happen if he tried again?
He didn't even dare to think about an outcome worse than death.
And he...
...was still a complete novice in mysticism.
But one cannot stay in their comfort zone forever; Klein finally made a decision.
"Alright," Klein replied in a deep voice, trying his best to make his voice sound calm and majestic, filled with the indifference a "deity" should possess.
Seeing Klein catch on so quickly, the smile in Nairn's eyes deepened.
Not bad. As expected of the "lead actor" I've chosen, his comprehension skills are top-notch.
He wasted no more words, stood up, gathered the gold pounds on the table, and began setting up a simple ritual in the room.
Actually, it couldn't really be called a setup; for Nairn, form wasn't important—what mattered were the directionality and essence.
He merely placed four chairs in the four corners symbolically to represent the ritual's boundaries and then stood in the center.
He didn't light any candles or draw complex symbols; the entire process was simplified to the extreme.
Klein watched his every move nervously, silently reviewing those incantations in his mind.
Having finished all this, Nairn turned to look at Klein and winked at him.
"Are you ready, Mr. Fool? Your first live broadcast is about to begin."
Klein: "..."
He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and sank his entire mind into the Connection with the gray fog.
Then, he awkwardly went to the bathroom... keeping a little trick up his sleeve, though not much.
But Klein always felt that entering the Gray Fog Space through that "ritual" in the bathroom—
—offered a bit of privacy.
Almost instantly, he felt his spirituality being pulled by an invisible force, soaring rapidly upward, passing through layers of obstacles, and finally arriving at that familiar, boundless world of gray mist.
The towering palace, the mottled bronze long table, the twenty-two high-back chairs... everything was exactly as it was when he last left.
Klein's figure coalesced on the high-back chair belonging to "The Fool." He subconsciously straightened his back and folded his hands in front of him, trying his best to look profound and inscrutable.
He knew Nairn was "watching" him from below.
Meanwhile, in the apartment on Iron Cross Street, Nairn felt that familiar tugging sensation originating from Above the Gray Fog, and the curve of his lips grew wider.
He spread his arms wide, holding the pile of gold pounds in his hands, and began to chant in a low voice using Ancient Hermes.
His voice wasn't loud, yet it seemed to carry a strange magic, echoing through the room.
"the fool who doesnt belong to this era;"
"The Mysterious Ruler above the gray fog;"
"The King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck."
As the true name was recited, the light in the room seemed to dim.
Klein felt as if he were being watched by countless gazes, an indescribable palpitation rising from the depths of his soul.
Above the Gray Fog, the two symbolic signs behind his high-back chair—the "Eye-less Eye" and the "Contorted Lines"—began to emit a faint glow.
It's coming!
Nairn's eyes lit up as he continued to chant.
"I pray for your gaze;"
"I pray for your listening;"
"I offer all I have, praying for your kingdom to open its gates to me."
As the incantations were recited line by line, the spirituality in the room began to boil violently. An invisible wind blew, the curtains moved on their own, and a solemn yet eerie atmosphere filled the air.
The gold pounds in Nairn's hands began to disintegrate one by one, turning into the purest golden points of light, floating upward like fireflies.
They did not dissipate but gathered in the air, forming a blurry gate of light.
Behind the gate of light was the deep, rolling gray fog.
"It worked!"
Above the Gray Fog, Klein clearly "saw" everything happening in his room. He saw the gate composed of golden points of light, the familiar gray mist behind the gate, and Nairn standing calmly before it.
He really did it! Nairn actually connected to the gray fog through the ritual he had taught!
A surge of uncontrollable excitement and shock welled up in Klein's heart.
Is this the authority of a deity? Is this the great power of sacrifice and bestowal?
It's incredible!
Just then, he saw Nairn look up, his gaze seemingly piercing through the spatial barrier to meet his from afar Above the Gray Fog.
Nairn's lips moved silently.
Klein read his lip movements.
"It's your turn, Mr. Fool. Open the door."
Klein's heart tightened, and he immediately focused his mind, mobilizing his control over the gray fog.
Using his will, he issued a command to the gate of light.
"Open."
Buzz—
A roar, as if from ancient times, resounded in Klein's mind.
In the real world, the gate made of golden points of light slowly and silently opened to both sides.
Inside the gate, it was no longer a blurry scene but clearly presented a corner of that ancient palace Above the Gray Fog.
Nairn's figure stood before the gate, staring straight at "The Fool" seated at the end of the bronze long table.
Their eyes met.
Klein felt an inexplicable pang of guilt, feeling as if he were having a private tutoring session and had been caught red-handed by the teacher.
He forcibly suppressed this feeling, striving to maintain his aloof and cold image.
Dammit, I'm still too weak; my presence is being completely suppressed.
He secretly made up his mind that he must consult Nairn properly later; he had to improve his strength as soon as possible and couldn't always be a mascot who only took advantages without making any contribution.
And Nairn, seeing Klein's pretense of composure, almost burst out laughing... Inside the ancient palace Above the Gray Fog.
Klein sat on the high-back chair belonging to "The Fool," looking at the only figure at the end of the long table—"The Lovers," Nairn.
The sacrificial ritual just now had gone exceptionally smoothly; the pile of gold pounds Nairn had thrown up lay quietly on the tabletop.
But at this moment, Klein inexplicably felt like he was in a "private meeting," a sense of vulnerability as if being interviewed alone by his direct superior.
Nairn just stared straight at him, his gaze filled with scrutiny and playfulness, as if saying: "Keep acting, keep on acting."
Guilt, extreme guilt.
No, I'm too weak!
This feeling of having one's secrets laid bare is too uncomfortable!
Klein cleared his throat and took the initiative to speak, trying to make his voice sound steady in an attempt to gain some initiative:
"Regarding Beyonder Pathways, I would like to ask... Does the Church of the Evernight have potion recipes for the 'Seer,' 'Marauder,' or 'Apprentice' Pathways?"
"Choose'Seer'." Nairn's answer was simple and direct, without a hint of hesitation.
"Why?" Klein pressed.
"Because those other two paths are already occupied at the top." Nairn leaned back in his chair, his voice flat but containing startling information. "Those two aren't exactly philanthropic seniors. Moving up with 'Sefirah Castle' is equivalent to stealing their livelihood. Guess what they would do to you?"
A layer of cold sweat instantly broke out on the small of Klein's back.
"Only the 'Seer' Pathway has a relatively clean road to becoming a true god. And..." Nairn paused, changing his tone, "Don't you think it's a coincidence?"
"Your true name is 'the fool who doesnt belong to this era,' and 'The Fool' is precisely the name for Sequence 0 of the 'Seer' Pathway. This card seems tailor-made for you. The Church of the Evernight also happens to have countless Connections with the'Seer' pathway."
Such a coincidence?
Klein instinctively felt that this world was simply too small.
But on second thought, an innocent man gets into trouble because of his wealth.
He possessed the gray fog, a "treasure" even Nairn praised. If he weren't strong enough, his fate would inevitably be to have everything stripped away by someone stronger.
He didn't want to die, let alone lose his only hope of returning home.
Then choosing the most promising and compatible path was undoubtedly the best choice.
Although he hadn't thought about something as distant as becoming a god, he at least needed the power to protect himself.
"I understand." Klein nodded solemnly.
He remembered another key question: "Senior, is the 'Acting Method' you mentioned really that effective?"
Hearing this question, Nairn's expression became strange. He was silent for a moment, then, in a sleep-talking tone, he said something that shattered Klein's worldview.
"How effective is the Acting Method?"
"Well... let's put it this way."
"A true god in three years, a ██ in five."
Boom!
Klein's mind went blank, as if struck by a bolt of lightning.
What on earth?
Three years... a true god? Five years... ██?!
Did he hear wrong?
As far as he knew, many Beyonders spent their entire lives just to master the abilities of a single Sequence. Just digesting a Sequence 9 potion would take several months at the fastest, and even years at the slowest!
And now, Nairn was telling him he could become a god in three years?
This wasn't just riding a rocket; this was directly turning on a warp drive to ascend to the Shroud!
Seeing Klein's petrified expression, Nairn finally couldn't help but burst out laughing.
The Fun-seeker attribute in his heart was greatly satisfied.
This was exactly the effect he wanted!
This feeling of overturning common sense and shattering one's worldview!
Watching the future "Lord of the Mysteries" doubt his very existence after a few words—this kind of fun was even more satisfying than earning a million gold pounds.
Of course, he also knew not to take the joke too far; he had to give this "lead actor" some time to buffer.
"Ahem." Nairn cleared his throat, restrained the smile on his face, and put on a "I was just saying it casually" expression.
"Just a joke, don't take it seriously." He waved his hand. "That's the theoretically most ideal, most perfect speed, assuming countless lucky encounters and coincidences, and that every act perfectly fits the current sequence."
Hearing this, Klein felt his heart, which was about to jump out of his throat, settle back down a bit.
So it's just a theoretical speed... scared me to death.
He knew it; how could it possibly be that fast?
Too ridiculous!
Theoretically, he was even the reincarnation of some big shot!
However, even if it was just a theoretical speed, it was still shocking enough. This showed that the potential of the "Acting Method" far exceeded his imagination.
"However," Nairn changed the subject, "for low-Sequence potions before sequence 7, as long as you act seriously, digesting them within a few months is the norm. If you perform well, one month isn't impossible."
Even this discounted claim was enough to make Klein's heart race.
One month!
This gave him unprecedented confidence!
After the excitement passed, Klein remembered something else.
"By the way, Senior." Klein spoke up somewhat sheepishly. "The money that was just sacrificed..."
He paused, seemingly organizing his words.
"When we return to the real world in a bit, I want to return that money to you. Including the 100-pound'signing fee' you gave me before."
Hearing this, Nairn raised an eyebrow, looking at him with some surprise.
"Return it to me? Why?"
"One should not receive rewards without merit." Klein said seriously. "Senior, you've already helped me too much; I can't take your money for nothing. I'm already a Nighthawk now and have advanced four weeks' salary, so I have 12 pounds on me—enough to live on. That hundred-plus pounds, I... I feel I don't deserve it."
As he said this, his heart was actually bleeding.
Over a hundred pounds! That was over a hundred glittering gold pounds!
Adding all his current assets together, he only had 12 pounds.
In a place like Tingen, this was already considered a significant amount of money, making him feel quite wealthy.
But compared to the pile of gold pounds on the table, it was simply a drop in the bucket.
Seeing that pile of money again, Klein felt his heart trembling.
He didn't dare to take it.
Firstly, his principles told him he couldn't accept such a large gift for no reason.
Secondly, he was afraid. Afraid that taking this money would mean owing an even greater favor that he might never be able to repay.
Nairn sized up Klein with great interest.
Oh? Want to pay back the money?
This was indeed a bit different from the "God of Poverty" Klein in his memory.
However... under the dual insight of "The Lovers" and "thousand faces," Nairn clearly perceived Klein's true thoughts.
This guy said no with his mouth, but his body... oh no, his spirit body was quite honest. That desire and reluctance for the gold pounds were almost overflowing.
Truly an interesting fellow—frank about his poverty yet holding onto his bottom line.
Fine then.
Nairn smiled to himself. Giving the money in the first place was just a casual move to completely tie this "investment target" to his war chariot.
Now that the goal had been achieved, whether the money was returned or not didn't really matter.
But he didn't intend to take the money back so easily.
"Return? Return what?" Nairn deliberately pulled a long face, his tone becoming unfriendly. "What's given is yours; what's the sense in taking it back? Who do you take me for?"
"But..."
"No buts." Nairn waved his hand and said indisputably, "Just consider it as common funds in a corporate account. The password is your birthday... oh wait, this world doesn't have birthdays, and this isn't a bank card. Anyway, whenever you need money, come and get it."
"Just think of it as the startup capital I, the 'investor,' am providing for your'startup project'."
He paused, leaning forward slightly toward Klein, and said eerily in a tone that was half-threatening and half-amused:
"Besides, since you're already with me, does it make a difference where the money is kept?"
"Try running away. Believe it or not, even if you run to the ends of the earth, I can still hunt you down?"
At these words, the corner of Klein's mouth couldn't help but twitch.
What's with this thick sense of threat?
Also, what did he mean by "you're already with me"? Those words were far too ambiguous!
He felt a bit helpless and also a bit like laughing.
However, he could also feel that Nairn had no ill intent, but rather a kind of... banter between friends?
Well, even though this "friend" was a bit excessively powerful.
Since the other party had said so, it would seem ungrateful if he continued to insist.
"...Fine, then... the money will be temporarily kept with you, Senior." Klein finally compromised.
He felt that in front of this fellow countryman, he had no temper at all.
"Alright." Nairn interrupted him impatiently. "The money stays with you. You can run, but you can't hide; surely you're not thinking of absconding with the funds?"
He added seriously: "If you run, I'll find you even if I have to dig three feet into the ground."
'Even if I have to dig up your corpse!'
Daring to run off with his money.
Thinking of running after offending Nairn!