Chapter 4: 4. Chapter 4: Divination (Second update, requesting recommendation votes)

Chapter 4: Divination (Second update, seeking recommendation votes)

Sitting back in the chair, Zhou Mingrui waited until the distant church bells chimed again—seven times in succession—before he stood up leisurely and walked to the wardrobe to take out his clothes.

A black vest, a matching formal suit, trousers that were slightly tight at the ankles, and a top hat, combined with a faint scholarly air, made Zhou Mingrui feel as if he were looking at a British period drama set in the Victorian era when he gazed at himself in the mirror.

"I'm not going for an interview; I'm just buying groceries and getting materials for the luck-turning ritual..." He suddenly muttered to himself, shaking his head with a chuckle.

Klein had been so preoccupied with the upcoming interview that it had become a physical instinct; whenever his focus wavered, he habitually put on this one decent set of clothes.

Exhaling, Zhou Mingrui took off the formal suit and vest, changing into a worn, brownish-yellow coat and swapping his hat for a felt hat with a rounded brim of the same color.

Once dressed, he paced over to the bunk bed, lifted the upper mattress, and reached his hand into an inconspicuous hole at the bottom. After a moment of fumbling, he found the hidden compartment.

When he pulled his right hand back, it held a roll of banknotes—about seven or eight of them, their color a dark, greenish-white.

This was all the savings Benson currently had, including their living expenses for the next three days. Among them were only two five-sol notes; the rest were all one-sol notes.

In the currency system of the Loen Kingdom, the sol was the second tier, derived from ancient silver coins. One sol was equal to twelve copper pennies, and it came in denominations of one and five.

At the top of the currency hierarchy was the gold pound. It was also paper money, but it was backed by gold and directly pegged to it. One gold pound was equal to twenty sols, and it came in denominations of one, five, and ten.

Zhou Mingrui unfolded the banknotes and caught the faint, distinct scent of special ink.

This was the smell of money.

Perhaps influenced by the fragments of Klein's memories, or perhaps due to his own unchanging thirst for wealth, in that instant, Zhou Mingrui felt he had fallen in love with these little things.

Look, their patterns were so exquisite that even the stern, rigid George III, with his two small mustaches, looked quite adorable...

Look, the watermark visible through the sunlight was so alluring; the meticulously designed anti-counterfeiting label made it completely different from those gaudy, fake harlots!

After admiring them for a few dozen seconds, Zhou Mingrui pulled out two one-sol notes, rolled the rest back up, and tucked them back into the compartment inside the mattress.

Smoothing out the fabric near the hole, Zhou Mingrui folded the two notes neatly, placed them into the left pocket of his brownish-yellow coat, and kept them separate from the few pennies in his trouser pocket.

With that done, he tucked his keys into his right pocket, grabbed a large dark-brown paper bag, and walked quickly toward the door.

*Da-da, da.* His footsteps went from fast to slow, then finally stopped.

Zhou Mingrui stood by the door, his brow furrowed, though he didn't know when it had happened.

There were many suspicious points regarding Klein's suicide. If he just went out like this, would he encounter any "accidents"?

After a moment of contemplation, Zhou Mingrui returned to the desk, pulled open the drawer, and took out the revolver that shimmered with a brass luster.

This was the only self-defense weapon he could think of, and it was a powerful one at that!

Although he had never practiced shooting, just pulling out this gun would surely be enough to scare someone!

Rubbing the cold metal cylinder, Zhou Mingrui shoved the revolver into the pocket where the banknotes were. He gripped the money with his palm and pressed his fingers tightly against the gun handle, hiding it perfectly.

A sense of security welled up, but as someone who knew a little bit about everything, a worry suddenly popped into his mind

"Could it accidentally discharge?"

Ideas came one after another, and Zhou Mingrui quickly found a solution. He pulled out the revolver, swung the cylinder out to the left, rotated the empty chamber caused by the "suicide" to the firing position, and then snapped it shut.

This way, even if it went off, it would just be an "empty shot"!

After tucking the gun back in, Zhou Mingrui kept his left hand in his pocket and didn't take it out again.

He pressed his hat down with his right hand, pulled open the door, and stepped out with a *clatter*.

The daytime corridor remained dim, with only limited sunlight filtering in from the window at the end. Zhou Mingrui hurried down the stairs and left the apartment before he finally felt the brilliance and warmth.

Although it was nearly July and midsummer, Tingen was located in the northern part of the Loen Kingdom and had unique climatic characteristics. The annual maximum temperature was less than 30 degrees Celsius, and the early mornings were quite cool. In some places on the streets, dirty water flowed and debris was scattered everywhere. In Klein's memories, such scenes were by no means rare in areas where the low-income class lived, even if they had sewers—because there were many people, and because that was life.

"Come, come, come! Delicious pan-fried meat fish!"

"Hot and fresh oyster soup, drink a bowl in the morning and be energized all day!"

"Fresh fish from the harbor, only 5 pennies each!"

"Small pancakes, eel soup with ginger beer!"

"Conch, conch, conch!"

"Vegetables just picked from the farms outside the city, cheap and fresh!"

...

Street vendors selling vegetables, fruits, and cooked food shouted loudly, calling out to the hurried passersby. Some would stop to carefully compare and purchase, while others waved their hands impatiently because they hadn't yet secured work for the day.

Zhou Mingrui smelled the air, where stenches and aromas rose one after another. With his left hand firmly gripping the gun handle and clutching the banknotes, and his right hand pressing down on his felt hat, he bent slightly and lowered his head to weave through the bustling street.

Where there are many people, there are thieves, especially in this neighborhood, which was full of semi-unemployed poor people doing temporary work and hungry children driven by others.

As he continued forward and the density of the crowd returned to normal, Zhou Mingrui straightened his back and head, looking toward the end of the street.

There, a wandering accordion player was performing, the melody sometimes melodious, sometimes passionate.

Beside him, a group of children in rags, their faces sallow from malnutrition, were gathered.

They listened to the music, followed the beat, and twisted their bodies instinctively, dancing their own improvised dances. Their faces were full of joy, as if they were little princes or little angels.

A woman with a numb expression passed by, her skirt dirty and her skin dull.

Her eyes were vacant and listless, and only when she looked at the group of children did a faint glimmer of light flash through them, as if she had seen herself thirty years ago.

Zhou Mingrui passed her, turned onto another street, and stopped in front of "Slynn Bakery."

The owner of the bakery was an old lady in her seventies named Wendy Slynn. Her hair was completely gray, and her face was always filled with a gentle smile. Ever since Klein could remember, she had been selling bread and pastries here.

*Hmm, her homemade Tingen biscuits and lemon cakes are delicious...* Zhou Mingrui swallowed his saliva and smiled

"Mrs. Slynn, 8 pounds of rye bread."

"Oh, little Klein, where is Benson? Hasn't he returned yet?" Wendy asked with a smile.

"In a few more days," Zhou Mingrui replied vaguely.

As Wendy used tongs to pick up the rye bread, she sighed

"He really is a diligent young man; he will have a good wife."

At this point, the corners of her mouth turned up, and she smiled somewhat mischievously

"It's good now that you've graduated, our Hoy University history graduate~ Hmm, you'll be making money soon. You shouldn't be living in an apartment like that; you should at least have a bathroom of your own."

"Mrs. Slynn, you look like a young and lively lady today," Zhou Mingrui could only respond with a dry laugh.

If Klein could successfully pass the interview and become a lecturer at Tingen University, the whole family would indeed be heading straight toward a comfortable life!

In his memory fragments, he had even fantasized about renting a detached house in the suburbs—five or six rooms upstairs, two bathrooms, a large balcony; downstairs, two rooms, a dining room, a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a basement storage room.

This wasn't an extravagant hope. Even an intern lecturer at Tingen University could earn 2 gold pounds a week, and 3 gold pounds and 10 sols after becoming a full-time staff member. One had to know that Klein's brother, Benson, had been working for many years and only earned 1 pound and 10 sols a week, while ordinary factory workers earned even less than 1 pound or just slightly over. The rent for such a detached house ranged from 19 sols to 1 pound and 18 sols.

"This is the difference between a monthly income of three or four thousand and one of fourteen or fifteen thousand..." Zhou Mingrui muttered to himself.

However, all of this was predicated on passing the interview at Tingen University or Backlund University.

As for other paths, those without a background couldn't get a recommendation to become a public servant. For those who studied history, the employment scope was even narrower; there wasn't much demand for private consultants from nobles, bankers, or industrial tycoons.

Considering that the knowledge Klein possessed had also become "fragments"—incomplete and full of gaps—Zhou Mingrui felt quite awkward and guilty about Mrs. Slynn's expectations.

"No, I have always been this young," Wendy replied humorously.

While speaking, she packed the sixteen weighed rye breads into the large dark-brown paper bag Zhou Mingrui had brought, and spread her right hand

"9 pennies."

Each rye bread weighed about 0.5 pounds, and deviations were inevitable.

"9 pennies? Didn't it cost 11 pennies two days ago?" Zhou Mingrui asked subconsciously.

The month before last, it had even cost 15 pennies.

"You should thank the repeal of the 'Corn Laws' and thank those who marched," Wendy said with a smile, spreading her hands.

Zhou Mingrui nodded, half-understanding. Klein's memory of this was somewhat incomplete; he only remembered that the core of the "Corn Laws" was to protect the price of domestic agricultural products. Before the price rose to a certain level, grain and cereals from southern countries like Feynapotter, Masin, and Lenburg were not imported.

Why did people march against it?

He didn't say much. Fearing that he might reveal the revolver, Zhou Mingrui carefully took out the banknotes, pulled out one, and handed it to Mrs. Slynn.

After receiving three copper pennies in change and stuffing them into his trouser pocket, he carried the paper bag of bread and headed toward the "Lettuce and Meat" market a street away, striving to fulfill the lamb stew with tender peas that his sister had requested.

At the intersection of Iron Cross Street and Daffodil Street, there was a municipal square where many tents had been set up. Clowns dressed in strange and funny costumes were handing out flyers everywhere.

"Tomorrow night, circus performance?" Zhou Mingrui glanced at the flyer in someone else's hand and whispered the general content.

Melissa would definitely like that. I wonder how much the tickets cost? The thought flashed through his mind, and Zhou Mingrui moved closer.

Just as he was about to ask one of the red-and-yellow clowns, a hoarse female voice came from his side

"Would you like a divination?"

Turning his head subconsciously, Zhou Mingrui saw a woman standing in front of a low tent, wearing a pointed hat and a long black dress.

Her face was painted with red and yellow greasepaint, and her gray-blue eyes were deep.

"No," Zhou Mingrui replied, shaking his head. He had no spare money for divination.

The woman smiled and said

"My Tarot divination is very accurate."

"Tarot..." Zhou Mingrui was stunned.

This pronunciation was very similar to the Tarot cards on Earth!

And the Tarot cards on Earth were a type of fortune-telling deck, just with more "picture cards" that each had symbolic meanings.

Wait... he suddenly remembered the origin of Tarot divination in this world.

It did not originate from the seven orthodox deities, nor was it a relic of ancient times. Instead, it was invented over 170 years ago by Roselle Gustav, who was the Consul of the Intis Republic at the time.

This Mr. Roselle invented the steam engine, improved sailing ships, overthrew the rule of the Intis Kingdom, and was recognized by the Church of the God of Craftsmanship, becoming the first Consul of the new Republic.

Later, he fought north and south, brought countries like Lenburg under his protection, made powerful Northern Continent nations like the Loen Kingdom, Feynapotter, and the Feysac Empire bow their heads one after another, and then changed the Republic back into an Empire, calling himself "Caesar the Great."

It was during Roselle's reign that the Church of the God of Craftsmanship received the first public oracle since the "Fifth Epoch," changing the title of the "God of Craftsmanship" to the "God of Steam and Machinery."

Roselle also invented Tarot divination and established the composition and rules of the current card deck. Among them were several types Zhou Mingrui was familiar with, such as Upgrading, Fight the Landlord, Texas Hold'em, Gwent...

In addition, he sent a fleet to find the sea route to the Southern Continent through storms and turbulence, opening the era of colonization.

Unfortunately, after he grew old, he was betrayed and assassinated in 1198 of the Fifth Epoch by the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun, the Solon family of the former Intis royal family, and other nobles, falling at the White Maple Palace.

This... recalling these common facts, Zhou Mingrui suddenly felt a toothache.

Could this person be a fellow transmigrator?

Thinking of this, Zhou Mingrui had the urge to see what the Tarot cards here actually looked like, so he nodded to the woman in the pointed hat with the painted face

"If it's, uh, reasonably priced, I'll give it a try."

The woman immediately smiled

"Sir, you are the first person to come for a divination today. It's free."

PS: Second update, seeking recommendation votes~

(End of chapter)