Chapter 58: A Way of Thinking

Chapter 58: A Line of Thought

The next day, Monday morning.

Klein, who was on his day off, did not go out. Instead, he gave the letter addressed to his mentor, Cohen Quentin, along with the excess postage, to Melissa, entrusting his sister to mail it at the post office near Tingen Technical School.

After breakfast, he leisurely made up for the sleep lost during his "working" hours. It wasn't until his stomach growled near noon that he finally got out of bed.

He reheated last night's leftovers, gnawed on a piece of oat bread, and then took a newspaper into the bathroom on the second floor.

Whenever this happened, he couldn't help but sigh at the lack of a mobile phone.

Seven or eight minutes later, he emerged feeling refreshed. He washed his hands, returned to his bedroom, and locked the door.

Then, Klein drew the curtains, lit the gas lamp, and spent half an hour meditating. He spent another half hour practicing Spirit Vision, pendulums, and divination rods, and an hour reviewing occult knowledge through memory.

After finishing these tasks, he tore the old newspaper into a dozen clumps, writing material names like "Moon Wax Candle" and "Full Moon Essential Oil" on them respectively. He followed the steps of ritual magic simulations to master the details—before becoming truly proficient and learning more, he did not intend to attempt ritual magic recklessly, as it would both waste materials and easily invite danger.

Over and over again, Klein picked up his silver-white pocket watch with vine patterns, clicked it open to check, and found that it was just past 2:45.

After considering for a few seconds, he took the waste newspaper to the first-floor kitchen to burn it, using the time to adjust his state and prepare for the Tarot Club meeting.

Locking his bedroom door once more, Klein did not wait for three o'clock to arrive; he intended to enter the space above the gray fog ahead of time.

He wanted to take this opportunity to thoroughly investigate that place!

Just as Klein stood in an empty space in his room, about to begin walking counter-clockwise, a thought suddenly occurred to him, shifting his worry from whether "Justice" and "The Hanged Man" had entered a suitable environment or would be disturbed and discovered.

He had said he wanted to find a way so that if "Justice" and "The Hanged Man" truly could not extricate themselves or encountered other situations, they could "request leave" in advance and miss the meeting.

To the old Klein, this was an almost unsolvable problem. He couldn't exactly build an inter-dimensional instant messaging network by hand, and using telegraphy would expose his identity.

But now, he suddenly found inspiration from ritual magic

"External-aid type ritual magic involves praying to different existences for help. The beginnings of similar incantations must have a clear direction, such as the Evernight Goddess, the Lord of Crimson, or descriptions of those unknown, hidden existences."

"Then, can I modify the incantation so that the opening description points to me?"

"Points to me..."

"That way, even if 'Justice' and 'The Hanged Man' perform a ritual in a foreign land, I will be able to obtain the corresponding information."

Klein's spirits suddenly lifted as he began to analyze the feasibility of this method

"Two difficulties. First, I am not a high-sequence Beyonder powerful enough to ensure that even if the incantation's description points to me, I would actually receive the 'request'."

"Second, how can I ensure the incantation's description points to me accurately, ensuring it doesn't miss and hit some other unknown existence that fits the description? That would bring extreme danger."

Klein paced back and forth, contemplating possible solutions.

His footsteps were silent. As he circled round and round, he naturally connected this matter to the mysterious world above the gray fog.

"The fact that I cannot receive a 'request' doesn't mean that area of gray fog is incapable. Its combination with the crimson stars can directly 'pull' a person into the space, ignoring distance."

"I could consider linking myself to that mysterious space when making the directional description..."

"Following this logic, although I might not receive a 'request' immediately when the other party performs a ritual, as long as I enter the gray fog, I will be able to see the corresponding information."

"Simply put, it's the difference between QQ's online and offline messages."

The more Klein thought about it, the more excited he became, feeling that this line of thought was worth trying.

"Hmm, then what description should I use to precisely point to myself and that gray fog world?" He began to consider the specific details.

In truth, he had an incantation that would definitely succeed—the pure Loen transliteration of "Fu Sheng Xuan Huang Tian Zun"—but the problem was that this would cause him to lose control over the gray fog and lose his dominant position, so it had to be ruled out.

"...'The Fool from another world'? No, that's precise enough that almost no other existence would fit the criteria, but it would expose my greatest secret..." Klein thought of one incantation after another, only to negate them all.

Seven or eight minutes later, he finally finalized the first directional description of the incantation

"The Fool who does not belong to this era."

This was clearly not precise enough, so Klein quickly added another segment

"The mysterious ruler above the gray fog."

Combined, these two could more or less limit the target to him, and they bound the gray fog to his very self.

"Still a bit short. It's possible there are multiple spaces or multiple rulers above the gray fog, and it's possible this description points to the Spirit World..." Klein frowned, intending to add one more layer of insurance.

Um... he considered it for a full minute before finally coming up with the final descriptive segment

"The Yellow and Black King who governs good fortune!"

This was an approximate free translation of "Fu Sheng Xuan Huang Shang Di." If it stood alone, it would likely miss the mark and provoke an unknown, dangerous existence, but with the two preceding limitations and the precedent of entering the gray fog via similar incantations, the target of the description could be completely locked in.

Klein didn't know if performing ritual magic according to these three segments would work, but he was certain it wouldn't attract the attention of other existences or put "Justice" and "The Hanged Man" in danger.

Klein let out a long breath and silently recited the incantation he had prepared

"O, Fool who does not belong to this era, you are the mysterious ruler above the gray fog, you are the Yellow and Black King who governs good fortune..."

He nodded imperceptibly, pulled the pocket watch from his pocket, and confirmed the time.

"It's 2:58..." Klein stopped overthinking, put away the watch, and entered meditation. Accompanied by the lines of the incantation, he walked four steps counter-clockwise, forming a square.

The most violent noise and the most soul-wrenching screams rang out once again. He felt a headache even more unbearable than when he had consumed the "Seer" potion.

Unlike the sharp, piercing pain of a head wound, this was a throbbing ache that made one manic, irrational, and confused.

Klein controlled himself through meditation, struggling not to listen.

The murmurs and whispers receded like a tide. His body felt lighter, his spirituality felt lighter, and everything began to drift.

Boundless gray fog appeared in his vision, and the crimson stars were near or far, appearing like eyes.

Above the gray fog, the magnificent palace, as towering as a giant's abode, still stood, as if it had existed here for millions of years.

With just a thought from Klein, his figure vanished from his original spot and appeared at the head of the long bronze table, where twenty-two high-backed chairs were arranged.

"The ritual effect is indeed fixed..." He whispered, tapped his brow, and allowed the grayish-white mist to envelop him, making it even denser than before—according to "The Hanged Man's" description, if "Justice" had become a Spectator, it was best not to reveal her movements and actions in front of her.

Having no time to investigate, Klein extended his right hand, constructing an invisible connection to communicate with those two familiar crimson stars.

***

On the Sunia Sea, where deep blue waters raged, an ancient sailing ship sailed with the wind.

Alger Wilson had locked himself in the captain's cabin, letting the ghost ship provide the highest level of protection.

The pocket watch in front of him lay open next to a brass sextant, ticking away—not joyfully, but with a sense of tension.

Just as the hour, minute, and second hands pointed to the correct positions, a burst of crimson exploded before Alger Wilson's eyes, ignoring layer after layer of protection.

*Sigh...* His sigh echoed within the captain's cabin.

***

Berkland, Queenston.

Audrey Hall leaned against a velvet pillow, looking once more at the yellowish-brown paper in her hands. Her gem-like eyes seemed to hide two slowly rotating soul vortices.

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

As the crimson burst forth, she "watched" herself being swallowed with an attitude of looking down from above.

***

Above the gray fog, within the grand palace, the long bronze table was mottled and ancient.

As soon as Audrey Hall's figure appeared, Klein, who had long since activated Spirit Vision, looked over. Unsurprisingly, he saw the colors deep within her aura merge into one, becoming pure and tranquil, like a clear lake reflecting objects.

*She really has become a Beyonder...* Just as Klein was about to look away, he suddenly noticed a change in the high-backed chair belonging to Miss Justice.

The brilliant stars on the chair back moved rapidly, forming an illusory constellation that did not belong to reality.

To Klein's eyes, this constellation was incredibly familiar, for it was a symbolic icon in occultism.

The symbol of the "Dragon"!

*Spectator... Dragon...* Klein controlled himself from shaking his head and looked inquiringly at The Hanged Man's high-backed chair.

Normally, from his angle of vision, he certainly wouldn't be able to see the back of the chair, but this was his home turf; everything manifested according to his will.

The constellation behind that chair did not change, but Klein, who had already entered the basics of occultism, was no longer as ignorant as before; he recognized it as the symbol of the "Storm."

*Sailor... Sea Lover... Storm... That's fine... The color deep within The Hanged Man's aura has become much purer... He has promoted? Right, what is the symbol behind my seat?*

Resisting the urge, Klein, just as before, tapped the edge of the long table three times with his finger and said with a smile

"Congratulations, Miss Justice, you are a Beyonder."

*He can tell directly?* Audrey froze for a moment, then smiled faintly

"Thank you, thank you, Mr. Fool, thank you, Mr. Hanged Man."

"Faster than I expected," Alger Wilson said candidly.

Klein did not continue the topic. He tapped his brow and spoke with a smile

"Ladies and gentlemen, have you found Roselle's diary?"