Chapter 58

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The next day was Monday morning.

Klein, who had the day off, didn’t go out. Instead, he handed Melissa his letter addressed to his mentor Quentin Cohen along with more than enough money for stamps, asking her to post it at the post office near Tingen Technical School where she studied.

After breakfast, he went back to sleep to make up for the rest he’d missed from all his work. He only woke close to noon, prompted by grumblings in his stomach. He heated up some leftovers from the night before and ate them with a loaf of oat bread. Then he grabbed a newspaper and headed into the bathroom on the second floor.

These were the moments when he couldn’t help but lament the lack of a cell phone.

After about seven or eight minutes, he left the toilet refreshed and reinvigorated. He washed his hands, returned to his bedroom, and locked his door. He drew the curtains closed, lit the gas lamp, and entered a trance for half an hour. After another half hour practicing his spirit vision, pendulum dowsing, and rod dowsing, he spent the next hour reviewing the mysticism knowledge he had recently acquired.

After that, he ripped up the old newspaper and crumpled the pieces into a dozen balls. He scribbled on them “Moonflower Candle,” “Full Moon Elixir,” and other names of materials. Then he mimicked the prescribed steps of ritualistic magic with these props to master all the details. Until he was entirely familiar with them, he didn’t intend to attempt ritualistic magic on a whim—it was both a waste of materials and a magnet for danger.

Again and again, he practiced until he picked up his silver pocket watch patterned with vine leaves and glanced at it. He realized it was quarter to three. He pondered for a few seconds before taking the scraps of old newspapers to the kitchen on the first floor to burn them. While doing so, he reset his mind and prepared for the tarot gathering.

Locking his bedroom door once again, Klein didn’t wait for the clock to strike three. He planned to enter the area above the gray fog ahead of time. He wanted to seize the chance to explore the place thoroughly!

Klein stood in an empty spot in his room. As he began walking counterclockwise, he wondered if Justice and The Hanged Man were in a suitable environment yet—if they’d be undisturbed or discovered. Suddenly, his thoughts extended to another idea:

He had mentioned before that he would devise a method to allow Justice and The Hanged Man to apply for “leave” ahead of time if they needed to be absent from the gathering due to unexpected circumstances or if they truly couldn’t find a way to be alone.

In the past, this would have been an almost impossible problem. There was no way he could build an entireisekaiinstant communication network by hand, right? Meanwhile, telegrams would expose his real identity.

But now, he had suddenly found inspiration from ritualistic magic.

Ritualistic magic borrows external power by seeking the help of various entities. Its incantations always make it clear at the start whom they are directed to—be it the Evernight Goddess, the Master of Crimson, or other unknown and clandestine beings.

Then does that mean I can amend the incantation and change the opening to address myself?

Address myself...

This way, even if Justice and The Hanged Man conduct the ritual in a foreign land, I would receive their messages.

Klein was thrilled as he began analyzing the feasibility of such a method.

There are two difficulties. First, I am not an incredibly strong high-rank Beyonder. Even if the address in the incantation clearly described me, it's unlikely that I would receive the “request.”

Second, how can T ensure that the incantation precisely points to me and doesn't stray to some other unknown entity that happens to fit the description? That would be incredibly dangerous.

Klein paced back and forth, deep in thought over a possible workable solution. He moved in silent circles until he naturally made a connection between this conundrum and the mysterious world above the fog.

Even if I can't receive the message, that doesn't mean the gray fog can't. Its connection with the crimson stars has the ability to “drag” a person into the space directly, regardless of distance.

I could consider incorporating that into my address, using words to tie myself to the mysterious space above the fog...

Following this line of thought, even if I might not immediately receive the “request” when the other party conducts the ritual, I will still be able to see the corresponding messages whenever I enter above the gray fog.

To put it simply, it is the difference between receiving instant messages while online and checking offline messages later.

Klein became more excited as he pondered further. He felt that his idea was worth trying. “Hmm, what kind of description could be used to precisely address a message to me and to the world of fog?” he mused, ruminating over the specific details.

In fact, he had an incantation that would definitely work—the Loen transliteration of “The Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings.” But that would mean ceding control over the gray fog and his rule over it, so he had to discard that option.

...The Fool from a different world?

No way.

It was quite accurate, sure, and there was almost no other existence that fit the criteria, but it would expose his biggest secret. One incantation after another crossed his mind, and he crossed each one off*. After about seven or eight minutes, he finally decided on the first line of his address for the incantation:

“The Fool not of this era.”

It was obviously not specific enough, so Klein quickly added: “Mysterious ruler above the gray fog.”

The combination of these two lines practically narrowed it down to only him. Furthermore, it established a connection between himself and the gray fog.

It's not quite complete. I can’t eliminate the possibility that there are multiple spaces and rulers above the gray fog. It’s possible that the description might also address the spirit plane...

Klein furrowed his brows and decided to add one more safeguard.

After a full minute of thought, he finally decided on the last part of the address:

“King of Yellow and Black, Lord of Good Luck!”

This was a vague localization of the line from his luck-enhancement ritual, “The Exalted Thearch of Heaven and Earth for Blessings.”(9)On its own, it might end up misdirected and provoke unknown dangerous existences. But with the first two lines to narrow the search— and drawing from his experience of reaching above the fog through a similar incantation—he believed it would lock onto the intended target.

Klein wasn’t sure if casting the ritualistic magic with these three descriptions would be fully effective, but he was certain that it would at least not attract the attention of some other entity, so it wouldn’t endanger Justice and The Hanged Man.

Klein heaved a long sigh and recited the incantation he had devised: “The Fool not of this era, you are the mysterious ruler above the gray fog. You are the King of Yellow and Black and the Lord of Good Luck...”

He nodded slightly and took out his pocket watch to check the time.

It’s already 2:58PM...

Without further preamble, Klein put away his watch and entered into a trance. Soon, he chanted the usual incantations and took four steps counterclockwise in the shape of a square.

The most ferocious noises and heart-stirring roars filled his ears once again. He felt a headache more unbearable than the pain of consuming the Seer potion. It wasn’t like the sharp pain he’d felt when a bullet had torn through his head; it was a throbbing ache that made one manic and irrational, plunging the mind into chaos.

Klein controlled himself with meditation and strained to ignore the voices. Gradually, the murmurs receded like the ebbing tides. As his body lightened, his spirit followed suit, and everything seemed to drift upward.

Before his eyes, the boundless gray fog emerged. The crimson stars hung at varying distances like pairs of watchful eyes. Above the gray fog stood a palace—lofty and towering like the dwelling of a giant, as though it had existed there for millions of years.

With a stir of his will, he disappeared from where he was and reappeared at the head of the long bronze table, surrounded by twenty-two high-back chairs.

“The effect of the ritual is definitely fixed...,” Klein muttered. He tapped his brow gently and allowed the fog to engulf him, even thicker than before. According to the description of The Hanged Man, if Justice had become a Spectator, it would be best to obscure his gestures and bodily movements from her as well.

Without any time for exploring, Klein extended his right hand and formed an invisible connection, reaching across to the two familiar crimson stars.

...

On the roaring blue waves of the Sonia Sea, an ancient sailboat was sailing with the wind.

Alger Wilson locked himself in the captain’s cabin and commanded the phantom ship to activate the highest level of protection around the room.

He opened the pocket watch before him and laid it next to the brass sextant. The hands ticked nervously, without joy.

When the hour, minute, and second hands arrived at their correct positions, Alger Wilson saw an explosion of crimson before his eyes. It ignored the layers of protection he had placed around himself.

Ah...His sigh reverberated through the room.

...

In Empress Borough, Backlund, Audrey Hall lay against a down-feather pillow and glanced at the yellow paper in her hand. Her gemlike eyes appeared to contain two slowly spiraling souls.

Her gaze was calm and cool, as if she were waiting for a play to begin.

As the crimson red erupted, she looked down at herself with detachment as she was swallowed.

...

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Above the gray fog, in the magnificent palace, beside the ancient, mottled, long bronze table, Audrey Hall’s figure began to form. Klein, who had long activated his spirit vision, looked over at her. He was not surprised to see that the colors deep in her aura had merged together, becoming pure and serene—silent as a clear, reflective lake.

She really had become a Beyonder... Klein was just about to look away when he suddenly saw the chair belonging to Miss Justice change.

The bright stars on the back of the chair shifted swiftly, forming a constellation that didn’t exist in reality.

But in Klein’s eyes, that constellation looked exceedingly familiar— it was one of the symbols of mysticism, the symbol representing the Colossal Dragon!

Spectator... The Colossal Dragon...Klein restrained himself from shaking his head and looked over at the back of The Hanged Man’s chair.

Generally speaking, it was impossible for him to see the back of the chair from his angle, but this was his home turf—everything appeared according to his will.

The constellation on the back of The Hanged Man’s chair had not changed, but since Klein had grasped the basics of mysticism, he wasn’t as ignorant as before. He could recognize that it was the symbol of the Storm.

Sailor... The Keeper of the Sea... Storm... That's reasonable.

The color deep in The Hanged Man's aura was much purer than before... Has he advanced? Oh yeah. What about the symbol behind my chair?

Klein suppressed his impulse to look. As before, he rapped the edge of the long table thrice and said with a smile, “Congratulations, Miss Justice, you are a Beyonder now.”

He can tell straight away?Audrey was momentarily stunned, then smiled faintly. “Thank you, Mr. Fool. And thank you, Mr. Hanged Man.”

“That was much faster than I thought,” Alger Wilson said honestly.

Klein didn’t continue the topic but tapped his brow and said with a smile, “Lady and gentleman, have either of you found more of Roselle’s diary?”