Evening, East Borough.
Inside a certain dim room.
"I'll buy all the Beyonder bullets."
Silas said flatly.
The others had originally wanted to compete, but after seeing him casually pull out several hundred-pound notes in cash, they fell silent.
Silas handed the money to the attendant and received a large box in return.
Opening it, he found dozens of bullets containing Beyonder characteristics densely arranged inside.
The combination of Revolver of Luck's enhancement effect with Beyonder bullets worked very well. Since he wasn't short on money right now, he could buy more.
"Also."
He looked toward the masked woman across from him. "You can make more bullets with other Beyonder effects. I'll buy everything you've got."
"I didn't make these. I just happened to buy them."
The masked woman emphasized, unwilling to admit she had support from an "Artisan" backing her.
She glared at Silas with displeasure, since his words had put her in a somewhat dangerous position.
But after glaring for a few seconds, her attitude suddenly softened.
"However, I'll keep an eye out for you. If there's anything similar, I'll buy it for you."
The woman's gaze fell on Silas.
Although this person wore a mask and robe with no visible features, just his well-defined hands emerging from the robe were so charming that she couldn't bring herself to refuse.
The woman was confident she wasn't normally a lovesick fool, but at this moment, she discovered she actually liked men with nice hands.
"Suit yourself."
Silas withdrew his hand back into his robe and said casually.
Damn it, I'm even wearing a mask and that dagger still has an effect...
He cursed inwardly, hugging the box of bullets and deciding to stay silent for the rest of the gathering.
"Well then, the gathering ends here."
The Eye of Wisdom announced, beginning to arrange for the attendants to move. They would lead the participants out one by one.
At this moment, he noticed a bearded man wearing a half-mask on the sofa making eyes at him.
Sherlock has something he wants from me?
Isengard Stanton, relying on his keen observation and deductive abilities, immediately adjusted the order of departure, letting Sherlock remain until last.
"What is it? Something wrong?"
Isengard asked.
"A friend of mine, his colleague has gone missing..."
Klein quickly explained the situation. "I'm a bit busy recently and can't spare the time. If he comes to you and you happen to be free, I hope you can help out."
"Heh heh... Can I take this as recognition of my detective abilities?"
After hearing this, Isengard smiled while holding his pipe.
"Of course you can."
Klein said.
Having settled this matter, he felt somewhat relieved and stood to bid farewell.
Leaving the room, a cold wind immediately blew over. November had arrived and the weather had turned quite cold.
People froze to death in the East Borough every day.
Carts for collecting corpses crossed the streets in the morning, tossing the frozen-stiff bodies onto the wagons for unified burial.
Of course, when these bodies were discovered, most had no clothes. Their garments would be stripped by their fellow vagrants shortly after death.
After all, the dead had ended their suffering and could return to the divine kingdom of their gods, while the living still needed to continue struggling in this cruel world.
They said that in a little while, it would start snowing in Backlund.
The snowflakes, polluted by exhaust, would take on a pitch-black color, covering the entire city. Such a scene would be like the apocalypse arriving.
Klein walked a few steps and, unsurprisingly, saw someone standing in the shadows, waiting for him.
"What is it, Silas?"
He stepped forward and asked.
Under the crimson moonlight, Silas's figure appeared mysterious and dangerous.
"There's been a Roselle exhibition recently. Have you seen it?"
Silas asked.
"I have."
Not only have I seen it, I even asked Miss Justice to investigate that bookmark more deeply for me.
"After seeing the Roselle exhibition, I suddenly remembered something."
Silas said, "You must have noticed it too, right? Roselle clearly achieved a great deal in mysticism — he was probably a Beyonder of quite a high Sequence. His diary must contain an enormous amount of secrets and knowledge.
I've heard those diaries are scattered among the public. Maybe we should make an effort to collect them. We could learn a lot from them."
You're right. I've already arranged for Tarot Club members to collect them...
Klein thought to himself.
Come to think of it, if I pulled Silas above the gray fog and he discovered Mr. Fool could read them, would that blow my cover? Probably not, right?
After all, I've maintained enough mystery for Mr. Fool. It's only natural for a deity to be able to read mysterious texts...
"Hey, Klein, why aren't you saying anything?"
While his mind was wandering, he suddenly heard Silas's voice.
"Actually, I've already collected some diary entries."
Klein hesitated, then decided to be honest.
"Oh? Have you discovered anything special?"
"There are indeed some valuable things."
Klein thought for a moment, considering whether he should conceal parts that were inconvenient to disclose.
"How about this: after I get back, I'll organize the relevant diary entries and send them to you," he said.
"Sorry, I completely forgot to share this information with you before."
The matter of Roselle's diary was related to maintaining The Fool's image, so he'd subconsciously kept it secret.
"It's fine. It's mainly my fault for not thinking it through."
Silas shook his head and said indifferently.
Even fellow transmigrators held things back from each other. Complete trust wasn't advisable.
Klein didn't know Silas's thoughts. Seeing his calm demeanor, a sense of guilt arose.
"Then how about this: let me tell you a few important pieces first," he quickly said.
"Roselle's diary records that different pathways can be exchanged, as long as you're at a specific Sequence and drink the potion..."
"I know that one already. I've seen similar Roselle diary entries," Silas recalled his days as a Nighthawk in Tingen.
"It was in Port Enmat, from that female Beyonder from the Steam Church."
Klein paused, then said, "See, you didn't share that information with me either."
"Uh, I forgot too."
The two looked at each other and smiled awkwardly.
"By the way."
Silas remembered something else. "In Roselle's diary, did he mention his children?"
He thought of that Queen from the exhibition.
"He did."
Klein recalled briefly. "He had two sons and one daughter.
Especially his eldest daughter—she seems to have been prophesied to become a major figure in the mystical world..."
Yes, it matches!
Silas thought secretly to himself.