章節 3: Adjusting
Intis, somewhere within Trier.
The receding grey fog before his eyes caused Mr. E—John Wickham to blink and stand motionless for a moment. He soon let out a sigh, as he looked down at his now unmarked right hand, which was marred with dirt. His eyes instinctively moved along his formal suit consisting of a black coat, a matching white shirt and a black cravat, with long black trousers, and black shoes. Dirt and soil littered every corner of his attire, making it stand out in a way that made him uncomfortable.
Well, I did wake up in a makeshift grave. John ruffled his short hair, removing the dirt particles within as he examined the dark, wooden cabin he was in. He stepped out of it, and was greeted by a small, open garden dotted with withering lilies with its most conspicuous feature being a human-sized depression around one of its edges, featuring a mound of damp soil along its sides.
Thankfully, Pierre buried me in some loose soil, or I'd have developed some claustrophobia. He let out a sigh, as he recalled his horrifying "transmigration" experience.
He vividly recalled his forehead burning, as darkness filled his vision. However, the strong earthy scent surrounding him, as well as his increasing heartbeat and his fearful pants caused him to realise he was still alive, and thus he forced himself out of the ground.
John rubbed his now clear forehead in thought. A headshot. That mission was far from ordinary.
As a Magician working under Bureau 8, John Wickham as well as a few other colleagues were tasked with infiltrating a bustling black market within the Underground Trier corresponding to the Observatory quarter where one of their bases lay. They were to spectate the transaction involving two parties whose background remained unknown to John. Naturally, he didn't pry for the details from his seniors. After some preparations, he brought his team into the underground, and through the combination of their expertise and mystical items, they successfully infiltrated the gathering, where they witnessed a number of transactions primarily involving high level sealed artefacts.
However, trouble occurred when a third party stormed the place, and attacked all those present, with John, even with his survival based abilities succumbing.
I'm guessing Pierre was sent to investigate the aftermath, and then noticed my body… Those attackers didn't completely burn the corpses. Maybe as some hidden condition? Or maybe because they were in a haste? He decided to put the matter aside as he walked to his burial site, and used a nearby shovel to cover it.
Unfortunately, I've no medium to give it anti-divination properties… He noted, as grabbed the wooden handle of the shovel. After a bit of reflection, he burned the handle, and stabbed the now handleless metallic blade on the now inconspicuous soil before him.
Hmm… I'll come back here after I obtain some supplies, and erect some anti-divination means using some paper. Reaching this thought, he looked around, beyond the small fence, and spotted a number of factories around. He recognised the place to be the Cathedral district also known as the nineteen quarter, with the Patriarchal cathedral of the God of Steam and Machinery situated at its heart.
The small garden he was in, was a public one he and his good childhood friend, Pierre often used as a playground in their younger days. It now looked rather empty, with only a small wooden shed within it and a rusty fence surrounding it.
A sigh escaped John's lips at the thought of his friend, realising that with his mysterious resurrection, there was no way he could return to his previous life.
He once more shook his head, as he moved out of the garden, soon reaching a nearby store on the far end of the road. On the way, he subconsciously patted his clothes, and pockets noting they were empty.
My money; my precious… John channelled his nature, also remarking that he felt his Verl d'or banknotes looked a lot more attractive than usual. Maybe Klein's influence on us through the Uniqueness? His lips curled as he reached the store.
He naturally applied illusion creation to mask the dirt patches on his clothes, while also using it to steal some stacks of papers, a pair of scissors, a box of match sticks as well as a fountain pen from the snoring store owner.
Sorry, but it's urgent, he inwardly apologised as he went back to his burial spot, and then burned a paper leaf. That should do with basic anti-divination. It should dull Pierre's perception somewhat. As for what happens if he decides to uncover the grave… Well, I can't think of anything for now.
John placed the rest of the papers in his coat, as he walked back to the road. In doing so, he used his extraordinary balance to write a small note, as he passed through the same small store.
The old store owner woke up from his stupor as he unconsciously looked at his counter where a note was now laid, saying, "Sorry," in Intisian.
John, not too far from the store, let some ashes from a paper he burned disperse with the wind, while pocketing some Verl d'or banknotes. Naturally, he had applied some anti-divination to his note. A Magician never performed unprepared!
After passing through a number of streets, and some hesitation, he finally took a carriage ride to the Financial district. While his main apartment was within the nineteenth quarter he was currently in, he feared leaving traces within it might alert his friend and his colleagues who might've visited it by now.
Naturally, I prepared more hideouts. If my memories aren't playing tricks on me, the one in Saint Michel street has some forged identity documents, and also my supplementary ingredients for Faceless. He thought as the carriage shook slightly due to the uneven road.
Bureau 8 had already provided him with the potion formula and supplementary ingredients for a Faceless, while promising he'll be provided ample opportunities to finish his digestion, while the corresponding main ingredients would be provided after he succeeded with the assigned mission.
And now, I'll have to hunt for all that on my own? Dammit, I'd imagined I'll be a sequence 6 by next month, two months tops. He clicked his tongue without hiding his annoyance.
John was well aware that he couldn't show his face to anyone greatly familiar to him, or else a wave of questioning and scrutinising would follow.
He leaned back on the seat with a sigh, as he observed the bustling streets of Trier. The scene looked familiar to him, while also being unfamiliar.
A weird feeling… If not for my sticky situation, I might've gone sightseeing. He smiled at himself, his curiosity for this major city growing.
Actually, with "that" I may still become Faceless in a short time. He recalled the mystical gathering he had just experienced, featuring his fellow "transmigrators." While I'm not a Spectator, my intuition tells me they are quite a dangerous bunch.
From this, two options appear: Refuse to attend from now on just in case, or risk it all and attend… My instinct as a Magician makes me want to not get involved with such a bunch anymore than I already have.
His eyes meandered through the streets, as he looked down at the back of his right lightly tanned hand. While there weren't any markings, he could feel a faint connection to the dark pentagram hidden within. If he willed it, the dots would appear, signalling the other six moderators.
I'll let the thought marinate for now, He reasoned as he let his hand rest. For now, let's focus on my immediate problems. He shook his head as he took out his scissors, and shaped a few papers into human figurines.
As the morning passed by, the bright sun made itself known, signifying mid-day. At around 2 in the afternoon, the simple carriage stopped a few streets from John's apartment. His cautious nature could never allow anyone he wasn't familiar with right in front of one of his bases.
After circling the surrounding area for a bit, ensuring he wasn't followed, John fiddled with the silver pendulum he had "borrowed" from a random store, and soon softly muttered.
"I'll face danger walking into it…"
After doing so six more times, the pendulum tilted slightly to the right, giving him a positive response as he smiled to himself. He instantly knew the slight danger he'll face when entering his apartment room was the number of hidden traps he laid all along it. Of course, he didn't let the response guide him as he recalled the nature of a Seer's divination. Due to this, he circled the normal apartment, in Michel street, noting the various windows along its surface, and doing some divinations. He also placed a few matchsticks at strategic locations before doing a final round of inspection, and finally heading into the apartment.
John used layers of illusions to mask his entry and the theft of his room's keys from the key cabinet beside the receptionist, as he walked up the stairs, noticing their tidiness. Hmm… I remember the landlord always emphasised cleanliness.
John soon reached his room, number 223, and then laid his hand on the cold doorknob, feeling its smoothness. Nothing unusual, he noted as he unlocked the door, and entered the well arranged apartment, making sure to walk in a certain way, so as to not trigger his traps. While doing so, he soon reached his bathroom, where a mirror featuring his reflection lay; his dark brown eyes, average features, clean shaven face, and short black hair greeted him. He could see through his own illusions, noticing how ruffled his clothes were. After noting his current features, he let out a tired smile.
Damn… I really can't go back. His face darkened as he recalled his past life. Living as a university student who occasionally dabbled as a keyboard warrior, didn't strike as the most optimal life. However, compared to his current status he had…
Family… John thought back to his parents, whose hairs were beginning to grey, to his siblings which included his younger brother and twin elder sisters.
Mom, dad, Isadora, Wesley and Nayara… I wonder how they're doing. Like, did I die there? Or suddenly vanish? I'm not from this world's original Earth, after all… A number of questions which he was sure will resonate with at least some of his fellow "transmigrators" formed in his mind.
After staying motionless for some time, John let out a sigh. Even if I can't go back, I should at least make the best out of this new life. He concluded while his reflection made a genuine smile. Also, if possible, I should find a Psychiatrist in case I develop some hidden issues. Yes, identity crisis is the most common way a Faceless loses control. He recalled the advice he received from the Intelligence gathering department as he took off his clothes.
I wonder if there is any Psychiatrist in "that" place… He thought as he took a quick shower, and soon wore average clothing. John also burned his previous clothes which now laid in a trash can on the short balcony, controlling the flames so as to not burn the plastic can.
He then walked to a cupboard, and took out a number of make up kits, and soon sat before his mirror. John expertly applied makeup tools within them, making him appear younger, while bearing a brighter complexion. He also used a hair dye for his hair, changing it to dirty blond, and then carefully placed blue eye contacts over his ordinary ones.
He soon smiled to himself, as he appeared to be a completely different person. This was his appearance as Louis Francois, a young man in his early twenties who like many others his age arrived in Trier with hopes of a bright future.
After nodding to himself, he began to ponder. The best course of action right now will be to gather information on whatever the hell happened back then… There's that peculiar information broker at the Observatory quarter… Yes, I can get to him. Though he knows the true me, I remember him often using a Notary certificate, which made him very trustworthy.
He should be in Alaric's Aim, which often dabbles as a small underground market. I can buy spiritual materials, some silver, essential oils, special herbs and the like. As for the money to buy this… John turned to peer into the small room, more specifically at the place where a box was hidden behind a wall. Through a hidden mechanism, he could get this box which he remembered had a number of banknotes and coins of various denominations equaling 1200 Verl.
That should suffice for now. Unfortunately, the other hideouts have very little in terms of hidden cash. He closed his eyes in lamentation once more as he recalled all the money he likely could never recover from his main place of residence.
Phew, you can recover it. You're after all, a mid sequence beyonder. His eyes focused on his mirror as he started formulating some plans. I won't ask Mr. Banane about the details for now, at best I'll probe. If possible, I'll become a mercenary. There's a famous mercenary club in the Market district… Yes, I'll accumulate experience, money, and build a reliable information network out of the scrutinising eyes of the organisation. I've to become a Faceless fast though, or I'll be noticed soon.
Reaching this thought, he moved to the wall before his bed, and pried out a well hidden block from the wall. From there, he took out a small box containing his cash, and a deck of cards.
His lips curled into a smile as he reached for them, and soon pocketed some coins and banknotes as well as some cards. He then went to his small kitchen and took a box of match sticks, and then paused as he recalled the matchsticks he had placed outside.
John let out a slight chuckle as he snapped his fingers, silently burning them away. He held back his urge to use one for a flaming jump, as he went out of his apartment room, soon reaching the middle-aged receptionist on the ground floor.
The brown-haired receptionist jolted at his appearance, before quickly composing herself as she closed the newspaper she had been reading and spoke with a smile. "Good after Mr…"
"Louis," John responded with an elegant smile, causing the receptionist to nod as she continued. "I assume your job hunting spree has taken quite the toll, given your prolonged absence."
This was yet another guise he used for his identity.
John maintained his smile as he replied in a jovial tone. "Au contraire Josiane. I just passed an interview at a cement factory in the Cathedral district. The next time you see me, I'll look even more haggard than I currently do."
"Congratulations," Josiane said with a smile before adding. "We all have to start from somewhere. Don't lose hope, and you might become like one of those rising stars commonly featured in novels nowadays."
"You're still hung up on this little hobby of yours I see." John mentioned with a raised brow and a teasing smile as he exchanged a few more pleasantries with the pleasant receptionist, before taking a carriage to the sixth quarter.
Though Bureau 8 had one of their hideouts within the Alone bar in this peculiar district, he was still quite familiar with the large place and thus could naturally blend right in without attracting any unwanted attention.
The carriage soon stopped by a three-story townhouse made of the same dark brick as its neighbours, with wrought-iron balconies and tall, narrow windows. A simple, red-painted sign indicated the name "Alaric's Aim" hung above the door.
John, in his ordinary attire featuring: short trousers and a shirt of coarse brown fabric, patched in places with mismatched scraps. He stepped on his worn, but sturdy leather shoes, and pulled down his short brown cap as he walked into the bar filled with muffled sounds and a clientele, a mix of gentlemen among others, who glanced at the newcomer and then ignored him.
John felt pleased with the reaction as he walked through the place with great familiarity, his ears pricking at the chorus of gunshots which grew louder as he moved in. This bar also featured a shooting range among other things. He went through an unassuming door into a large, well-lit space filled with people. Thick brick walls divided the area, and people shot at targets from somewhat isolated corners. Behind the space, which was filled with both stationary and moving targets were large, bulletproof backstops.
Hmm… I should also buy a gun, John mused as he thought about heading to the small market place in this very building, after dealing with the information broker.
It didn't take long for John to notice a man who looked to be in his forties, with black hair with a few white, and a connected goatee. His head was low hung as he observed the table before him filled with used cigars, and empty beer bottles.
"Why so downcast?" John suddenly said, as he entered the private booth, and soon spotted a filled bear bottle. Since his intuition didn't warn him of danger, one of his cards slipped out from his sleeve, and he expertly uncorked the bottle.
After taking a large sip of the Absinthe bottle, he let out a content sigh, and then took a seat opposite the man who didn't show much reaction.
After some time, the man didn't raise his head but instead spoke in a deep tone. "John? I heard you were dead."
John smiled at the information broker immediately seeing through his disguise, as he let out a chuckle and responded. "My death was greatly exaggerated."
The man remained silent for a few seconds, before busting out in laughter, his rotund appearance becoming known as he leaned back in his couch.
"... Is this your new persona? The humorous… and bold, kind instead of the cautious and quiet one?" The man spoke amidst his laughs, causing John to maintain his smile but remain silent. After composing himself, the man—with the nickname Banane, took a long puff of the cigar between his fingers. He let the intoxicating smell get him, as he spoke. "The state of this place should tell you everything you need to know about my schedule today."
Indeed. John had noted the littered place, his mind picturing a number of his colleagues who had passed by to obtain relevant information. Naturally, before arriving, he had performed some divinations on whether he'll be in a serious situation within the bar.
"I'm guessing you want to remain rogue and hidden?" Banane asked after taking another puff. John nodded in response as the man grinned hearing this. "Then this means you possibly had to abandon most of your possessions, and you now find yourself jobless. All this culminated in finding me, so I can present you with opportunities."
You really can't evade the scrutiny of a Detective. John silently remarked as he smiled and opened his arms, saying, "Indeed. I'm but a blank sheet ready to be filled."
Banane lips curled into a deep smile, causing alarming bells to ring in John's mind. This wasn't the first time he felt slightly unsettled by this Detective.
The information broker didn't care as he pulled out a golden sheet of paper featuring symbols of the sun. The symbols drew out an empty zone at its centre, emitting a warm, stable feeling.
"I'll go through the non-disclosure contract now, so you can feel at ease." Banane said, causing John to look back at him.
He suddenly felt like he had a very long way ahead of him.
…
A few hours ago.
Within the Market district, in the White Coats Streets, a quaint apartment lay, blending with similar buildings, which joined to form an apartment complex.
Lab member 004—Rosetta's naked body remained dazed before the tall mirror, but she soon snapped out of her stupor, and jolted at her own reflection. Beauty jumpscare!
She smiled as she calmed her heart and reviewed the gathering she had just experienced. A number of interesting fellows. And here I thought I couldn't feel more excited after I "woke up"…
She looked at the mirror which also reflected deeper into her bedroom, with an empty wooden cup laid on a floor before a table, which featured various equipment. She had naturally died from her advancement, which gave way for her to "transmigrate."
Rousseau… Rosetta's past name flashed in her mind as she thought about her mental state before drinking the potion. Anxious, not thrilled, but still feeling obliged… Rousseau and many others in the fandom are too short sighted. Like, who wouldn't want to turn into a waifu best version of yourself!?
Her grey eyes returned to her reflection as she smiled and uttered, "Well, at least I won't mind." As she spoke, black flames ignited in her hands, swiftly followed by a cold wind which began to solidify as ice and shift into various forms. After familiarising to an extent with her new found powers, she let out a loud, and excited laugh.
Oh yes of course, a beautiful version of yourself with all sorts of dark powers. Hmm… I must stockpile on some portable mirrors, as well as a nice short staff.
She got up from her seat, but her eyes were immediately drawn back to her nude reflection as she blushed. Well, I don't have any reservations unlike a typical protagonist in my shoes. Plus, I need to get familiar with my new bits… Yes! This is purely for academic purposes.
Rosetta grew excited, but then paused recalling various things. Damn, I did mention I'll contact her soon after advancing. Well, I've all the time of the day to play with myself.
She moved towards the cupboard and took out a bundle of dark, slick and beautiful hair. The hair caused her to blush, but then she froze, noticing something else at the corner of her makeshift vanity area. Seated in an inconspicuous area was a pure white, palm-sized bone statue vaguely resembling a beautiful woman with hair that reached her ankles. Each strand of hair was intricately carved with distinct, snake-like eyes, some open and others tightly shut, densely packed and unsettling.
This was the White Primordial Demoness figurine that all members of the Demoness Sect possessed.
As a member of the Door branch of the Tamara family, Rousseau, who was born as an assassin, had only one way of progressing.
The Demoness Sect, I'd much rather be in Fool Church, though… Rosetta pouted as she thought. Wait, can't I head to that church of the Fool cathedral? In Lavigny Docks I think? Wait a minute, this is right after he slumbers. There's no way it's there right now. She frowned and then took the hair while heading for her mirror.
However, she paused, recalling that she wasn't in the most presentable state, as she quickly wore a dark gown, while letting her hair freely sway well below her shoulder.
Hmm… I've got to get used to having long and fabulous hair. She mused as she moved the hair to the mirror surface, with her hand sinking into it, like it was water. As she retracted her now empty hand, while the mirror's surface moved like disturbed water. Soon, a figure appeared within the mirror.
Draped in a black court dress, and sporting a high and neat hair bun, her bright gray eyes, scrutinised Rosetta who unconsciously gulped. The woman's beauty seemed to invoke an unexplainable sense of sympathy within her.
The Demoness of Black, Clarice smiled as she spoke in a soft, yet distant tone. "Congratulations. You're now a true member of the sect."
Rosetta returned to her bearings and nodded, as she soon noticed the imposing beauty remained silent. The former quickly discerned what this cousin of hers meant as she said, "Rosetta is now my name."
Clarice gave a faint nod as she advised. "Like I already told you, never forget your origins. No matter how higher you go, or how beautiful you become, always contemplate and acknowledge your roots."
Seeing her nod, the Demoness of Black added with a light chuckle. "Now, I won't bore you with details. Instead, we will meet a week from now, after you have somewhat familiarise yourself with your new body."
This caused a blush to form on Rosetta's features as Clarice concluded in a distant tone. "Till then."
The mirror soon returned to normal, reflecting herself, while the bundle of hair fell from it.
Familiarise with my new self… Indeed, great minds think alike. She thought with a smile as she knew the day was about to get very busy.
…
Somewhere within the market district, a figure, doning in a black hooded cloak, walked along the roadside. Having just "borrowed" a wrapped piece of candy from a nearby distracted girl, the figure approached a mailbox standing in front of a three-story apartment's gated garden.
He picked up a nearby newspaper beside the mailbox and nonchalantly read it, while tuning in to the loud cries of the confused girl.
His average coloured eyes soon featured a number of strange mystical symbols as he scrutinised the small newspaper. Hmm… Then the gathering will occur in four days? Hopefully I find a corresponding sealed artefact, or better yet, a Psychiatrist before another bout of mania.
Wassim—Charles thought with a wide grin, as he shoved the newspaper while popping his candy into his mouth, and 'calmly' gazed at the afternoon sky.
…
While the bright midday was starting to make itself known to most of those in the Northern continent. The city of Backlund, mostly shrouded in extensive dust and fog, was the exception.
Within the St. George Borough, in the Northeastern section of the capitals of capitals, laid a key sewer system in its underground, sometimes used as a base of operation for nefarious groups.
In one such pathway within the labyrinthine brick tunnel system, filled with grim and foul smells which would have placed any beast into a comatose state, was a man with sharp features and blond hair, gazing at his damped self.
Abyss—Tobi examined himself, his spirit vision noting no changes to his astral projection which had "wandered" into the previous mysterious gathering place. I can't see anything, but that doesn't mean there are no hidden issues… His thoughts flowed as he examined his surroundings.
Dimly lit gas lamps illuminated the area with the brick floors and walls being covered with a foul grim, and a heavy stench permeating every crevice and plot hole which littered the surroundings. The main sounds that filled this disgusting place were the subtle drips of sewage water, and a marred stream of brownish dark water, flowing through the lower floors at a rapid pace. His current location was at the very least, not narrow unlike a good number of other paths.
I came from there. His eyes moved down to the peer at the stream beneath him, as he began to recall how much he had vomited the moment he came out of the water.
Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't… He repeated the thought like a mantra, as he prevented himself from dwelling on the taste his mouth was experiencing.
Well, let's get moving. Tobi nodded to himself as he moved along the path, soon noticing iron grates at an upper level with light from the ground level filtering through it. Using a Clown's acrobatic prowess, he easily scaled the surroundings, soon approaching the iron grate. On his way to it, he patted his damp ordinary clothes, subtly remarking the damp feel of his belongings.
Most notably, all his banknotes!
This Stings the heart! He quickly moved on from his damp banknotes, as he took notice that all his paper figurines had been used. He only had his silver pendulum for divination, some cards, and a revolver. However, all of these could not ever compare to what he had lost his life for.
The Human-Skinned Shadow's Characteristics. He inwardly remarked as he pulled out a diamond like human skin mask. Tobi knew from his knowledge that this main ingredient for a Faceless looked different from usual. And he paid the ultimate price to get it.
As a wild beyonder following the Seer pathway, his path forward was very obvious. Either join an official force with the Church of Evernight being the main contender, or join the Secret Order. However, as a man who greatly valued his independence, he chose neither and decided to forge a path for himself.
For this, he used various aliases, while participating at a number of clandestine gatherings, culminating in him obtaining the formula for a Faceless, the Mutated pituitary gland of a Thousand-faced Hunter, and the corresponding supplementary ingredients. In normal circumstances, finding so many high level ingredients for such an obscure pathway was very unlikely. But with the world war came misery as well as opportunities.
However, a single main ingredient remained, which he had obtained information on, about a week ago. Having already experienced a number of close calls with Beyonders he suspected were from the Secret Order, he decided to apply maximum caution for this mission, while also taking a very risky gamble.
For this, he left a cryptic message at the Saint Hierländ Cathedral, hoping the Machinery Hivemind would promptly respond. While the aftermath of the war had left the Church of Stream greatly limited in actions, they couldn't be completely removed from the scene of the Leon kingdom due to the high number of believers they possessed. However, they still had to displace high level sealed artefacts from their dioceses, and most of their Beyonder forces, with a few remaining under strict scrutiny.
The reason why he didn't warn the Nighthawks, or the Mandated Punishers was due to his gambling nature. He reasoned that if he could succeed, then having the official forces that might pursue him be the suppressed Machinery Hivemind was the best option. This way, he had a high chance of being the ultimate winner.
Unfortunately, I lost my gamble, His hand caressed his forehead as he recalled a hole being drilled through it, before darkness filled him. The Secret Order had, as expected laid a trap, knowing Tobi's greedy and ambitious nature will take precedence while his unaffiliated nature will prevent him from having adequate backing.
For the trap to work effectively, they let him obtain the Human-Skinned Shadow's Characteristics, in exchange for everything he possessed which naturally included this newly obtained mystical ingredient. While his abilities were notable, he was no match against a group of five which most notably featured a Faceless and two Magicians.
As his lifeless body plummeted into the sewers below, the Secret Order members prepared to go after his corpse, but had to immediately escape as the Machinery Hivemind made itself known.
Hmm… I can see the Secret Order guys not coming close to me with this, but the officials really didn't send anyone after my corpse? Or maybe they did, but given the status of the being who resurrected me, it isn't far-fetched for me to "somehow" evade pursuit.
Reaching this conclusion, he wore the mask, feeling itself partly fuse with his face. As he felt his face, he immediately noticed his softer features and the lack of his goatee.
The ingredient could be used as a mystical item, capable of changing his facial features to a small extent, for a certain duration.
This should be enough for now. Tobi thought as he pried open the iron gates using his damp cards which had rendered them as sharp as knives. While doing so, he applied illusion creation to prevent the people walking along to notice the anomaly.
As he stepped into open air, he let himself take a breath of fresh air, which immediately reminded him of just how disgusting his previous surroundings were.
Don't remember. Don't remember. Don't… He silently recited his mantra as he subtly used his illusion creation to mask his damp appearance and his stench. Though, a Vampire… I mean a Sanguine will probably be able to "smell" through my guise. Tobi inwardly noted as he blended with the crowd, and began to consider his options.
This operation was somewhat successful for both sides in the end. The Secret Order confirmed my death, so their next course of action will likely be to divine whether my corpse is recoverable. For this, they'll get a negative response, which might make them believe my body was obtained by the official beyonders…
However, what of the situation where they divine whether I truly died or not? While very unlikely, it's best to examine the worst case scenarios. In this case, would they receive a negative or positive response? Maybe both? That's quite interesting isn't it? I can't predict what they might do if such a case were to happen…
Then, what about the official beyonders? I doubt they'll just give up… Hmm… I should also assume my previous bases are compromised and thus, I'll simply roam around, and see if any bait will latch on.
I would've liked taking a shower and brushing my teeth though. He forced himself to not check his clothes, as he walked through the road. Tobi planned on replenishing his paper figurine stock and then use his damp cards to sharpen them, and keep them for later use.
As Tobi walked through the streets of St. George Borough which was dotted with various factories and appeared to be a city of its own, a dozen of meter away from him were a pair of illusory, translucent dark purple eyes, which moved through the surroundings, keeping an eye on him.
...
East Borough seemed even worse than usual. With a number of destroyed settlements still not getting renovated, some odd large trees intertwined with the road and building, like it was bringing them into a tight embrace. The number of tramps had increased with the war, with multiple middle class citizens having no way of sustaining themselves, and having no choice other than becoming tramps.
While the Leon kingdom won the war, and was well repaid in terms of war reparations by the Intis Republic, Feysac empire, and Feynapotter kingdom, the damage was already done. Most of the reparations centred around renovations, and getting back what the nobles rightfully "lost" within the war, with East Borough, which held over a fifth of Backlund's population seeing very little of it.
As the day settled, most returned to their shelters, with some having actual homes. Amidst all this, a particular street stood out. Black Palm street was known for featuring no gas lamps along uneven roads, however, this was a feature seen more commonly around.
Seated at a nearby cafe, reflected on one of its windows was a pretty woman with shoulder length black hair tied into a ponytail, observing the teacup before her. Her unconventional clothing consisting of a black and white formal suit made her stand out above anything, with a few throwing glances at her window.
However, Mist—Laverna wasn't bothered by it as she moved her gaze to a nearby tall tree which was deeply entangled with some of the rumble of a building.
A primaeval forest suddenly grew in Backlund at the eve of the war. And then, the war ended, with the Leon kingdom achieving a decisive victory, despite being on the defensive for most of the war… The popularity of the Church of Earth Mother which was at an all time low after the Feynapotter kingdom declared war on Leon, suddenly shot up. Many believe this was an apparition of Earth Mother, who gave her children in Leon a chance at redemption. Surprisingly, the Church of Storms and Evernight didn't stop these rumours from spreading.
She then let out a chuckle as she sipped her tea, thinking. If only they knew how spot on they were with their guesses. This makes me wonder if the two churches subtly supported the spread of this belief.
Laverna blinked as she observed the darkening surroundings in a daze. Damn… This day has been hectic. Reborn or "transmigrated" in the body of a woman in one of my favourite novels. Having to get used to my… Lack of buddy down there…
My death which I still can't reason with, and then that gathering… I'm speechless.
She leaned back on her chair and fully stretched her legs, adopting an unlady-like characteristic.
Something better happening would be… She paused her line of thought as from the corner of her eyes, at the end of the street, a man with ordinary features, could be seen walking along the road. However, what drew her attention was his attire—most notably was his white shirt being completely brown, but dried in a way which suggested it was wet a few hours ago. Apart from this, his face appeared stiff, in a way that a Cryptologist like herself could easily discern.
Last but not least was Laverna's intuition as a senior Marauder. She could tell the man held something of high value.
Laverna naturally leaned back on her couch, so as to draw minimum attention from the man who was passing by the corner, and might spot her subtle prying from her window.
Ask and you shall receive. Though it's quite coincidental… I don't like that word. Using her deciphering powers, she quickly began to assess the danger.
Risk assessment was crucial for any Marauder.
Doesn't seem like a serious danger, but since when have things in this world been so simple? I'm familiar with the place, while my eyes can clearly see in the dark. Of course, I can't be sure it isn't the same for that man…
Should I or should I not? Taking such a risk not long after I perished isn't the wisest thing… However, I would've never acquired this level and those artefacts if I decided to always listen to my cautiousness. The war was full of opportunities after all.
This made Laverna recall a popular saying about those of the Marauder pathway: Beyonders of this path often found themselves at a crossroad.
She let out a sigh, as her quick thinking came to an end. She had decided to go after this mysterious man, and test the waters. If the opportunity arrived, she would steal the valuable item on his person.
After gulping down her tea, she generously tipped the waitress, and casually moved along the roadside, with her golden inlaid cane in hand. With the now dark surroundings, she felt in her domain as everything looked as clear as during the midday. Laverna moved along alleyways, making use of their shadows, she used her acrobatic prowess and scaled various buildings, trees, and walls when necessary, all while remaining concealed and noting the man strolling the streets.
He walked at a nonchalant pace.
Hmm… This might mean, he's expecting a pursuer to attack? Oh well, let's see how prepared you are. Laverna thought sensing the target was a hundred metres from her.
She then took out a delicate crescent moon shaped silver locket from her breast pocket, revealing its contents; a miniature portrait of an obscured, sleeping figure. This was the Nightmare locket, a sealed artefact corresponding to a Sequence 7 Nightmare.
Suddenly, the air around the man grew heavy as his movement slowed down, and his eyes dropped threatening to close. However, the man soon morphed into a crude paper figurine, while the surrounding trees suddenly ignited in bright orange flames.
From them, a number of finger snaps sounded, as Laverna decisively dodged, while remaining concealed. However, she couldn't dodge all the air bullets as one hit her, followed by a number of them, riddling her body with holes. But then, Laverna fractured into pieces of mirror which all reflected the man, who was hidden by a tree some distance away.
Sensing imminent danger, the man turned into a paper figurine which was soon consumed by Black flames. He jumped out of another burning tree some distance away, landing on the rumble of a building, but then froze as a scene appeared in his mind.
Dressed in a formal suit, sporting a toothy grin, with her black hair down was Laverna, now looking extremely charming.
This caused the man to close his eyes shut, as he followed his intuition and jumped to another burning tree. He did not have the time to make any paper figurines aside from the ones he used, and fearing any more spirituality expenditure, he planned on cutting this cat and mouse game short. However, a strong wind blew the surroundings, putting out the surrounding burning trees.
The man didn't run, and instead stood motionless on the road, shaking his head as he smiled and reached into his coat.
"This isn't thrilling enough," he muttered as he took out a monocle and wore it in his right eye.
Laverna, hidden in a corner, froze in terror at the gesture, however, the man soon added in English. "Ah, wrong eye," before removing his monocle completely.
He wore it on his left eye? Having just used her Cryptologist powers to see through the illusion the man had presented, Laverna hesitated for a few more seconds before stepping out with her golden inlaid cane in hand, and approaching the man.
"You're being quite reckless, don't you think?" The man said with a stiff smile as Laverna stopped a few steps away from him. She scrunched her face and pinched her nose saying, "You stink."
"Mister, I woke up in a sewer."
Who cares, I just felt most of my clown and magician potion digested… Or more like I feel completely aligned with them. Tobi maintained his smile, as he and Laverna turned around and noticed a tall man with high cheekbones, hazel eyes, and thin lips approaching them with a silver walking cane in his hand.
"The monocle act was a classic mystery man move," Mad Wizard—Adyn Richards spoke with a smile, causing the two others to finally relax as they observed him with smiles of their own.
Now standing a few paces from the two, he nodded at them and then mentioned. "Just what are the odds of the three of us meeting. And here I thought God—I mean, GA's real life meeting suggestion was extreme."
Adyn also spoke in English.
He then frowned slightly peering at Abyss's clothes, and soon suggested. "I've a rented an apartment at Bicardi streets. I can aid you in… Sorting yourself."
Abyss—Tobi and Mist—Laverna nodded in agreement.
…
About an hour later, seated on a simple table within a small apartment room, Tobi wearing some slightly oversized clothing ate away at the Desi pie before him. Seated along the table were Adyn Richards, and Laverna who also ate the delicious pie before them.
Having grown slightly uneasy at the silence that had made way in their group since he led them to his apartment, Adyn leaned on his chair and observed Laverna beside him, still wearing her formal suit.
"You really like that coat, huh?" Adyn said to which Laverna smiled and responded without turning to him. "Guess."
He let out a chuckle as he turned to Tobi, and focused on his stiff features saying, "Still wary of pursuers?"
This caused Tobi's eyes to blink as he reached for his skin, saying, "You just reminded me I still wore it." As he spoke, the face skin mask was removed from his face, giving way to his sharp and more lifelike facial features.
So, that's what I sensed? A Faceless sealed artefact or mystical item? Laverna silently deduced as Adyn shook his head with a smile and spoke. "Indeed. I'm guessing you were the author of the anonymous letter we received."
Laverna observed Tobi's nod and then turned to look at Adyn. Her eyes said, "Hey, don't keep me in the dark."
"I don't mind sharing my situation," Mad Wizard said as he glanced at Abyss who waved at him. "Go ahead. We've already met in real life, there's no need to be so wary towards each other."
The tall man nodded as he leaned forward and explained. "At around noon, we received an anonymous message within the Saint Hierländ Cathedral."
He's a member of the machinery Hivemind? Laverna nodded as Adyn continued. "What we found pertinent was how detailed this encrypted letter was when it came to the location, and possible ambush point of the Secret Order members. And before that, we had received some intelligence on some members of the Secret Order being on the hot tails of an unaffiliated Magician."
He observed the diamond face skin mask, which Tobi pocketed in his coat, and added. "And seeing the Human-Skinned Shadow's Characteristics in your possession made everything click in my mind."
I see… Laverna inwardly noted as she began to picture Tobi's situation. I remember a sewer dumping ground is not too far from the Saint Hierländ Cathedral. Also, St. George Borough is close to the East Borough, which makes sense why not long after "transmigrating" Abyss found himself there.
She then watched as Tobi smiled and questioned. "I'm very curious about you. You must have been the stalker I noticed at first, right?"
Adyn subtly nodded, while Laverna equally nodded, now understanding why despite her best method at concealment, Abyss still remained highly alert.
After some time, Adyn spoke, in a slight weird tone, while scratching his head. "I decided to go after your corpse while the rest of the team pressured the secret order members away. Unfortunately, I saw something I shouldn't have at the worst moment."
A monster? No. The way Abyss said Adyn was trailing him, proves otherwise. That's way out of a Monster's expertise. A mystery Pryer then? Laverna didn't need to speculate further as Adyn elaborated. "Sequence 7 Warlock. I'm still stumped on what I saw that immediately killed me…"
Tobi narrowed his eyes in thought, and then recalled how he had speculated how his body remained elusive, possibly due to Klein's intervention. After some reflection, he went on to explain to the two, who by the end of the explanation, wore thoughtful looks.
"I witnessed the King of Yellow and Black's influence and paid the price…" Adyn nonchalantly spoke as if this didn't directly lead to his death.
While he was embroiled in his thoughts, Tobi glanced at Laverna and said with a raised brow. "You were quite determined to get me. I don't remember offending you, fair lady."
I was pretty sure the side effects should have worn out by now. Laverna instinctively thought before responding. "Cryptologist. Stealing is kind of my job prescription."
That explains why she could pinpoint where exactly I would appear. Tobi recalled using his flaming jump, but then got ambushed by what he presumed was a charming mirror version of Mist. Then, his last flaming jump had him appear near Mist herself.
Thinking back at the charming mirror self, made him use his abilities of a Clown to control his facial expression, as he asked. "You saw through my illusion, and thus sniffed my scent and recalled my sewer comment I made in the gathering?"
"Spot on," Laverna responded with a mischievous smile, but immediately retracted it, as Tobi's body shook ever so slightly. After a short period of awkward silence, she asked. "You noticed I was the one right after targeting my first mirror self?"
Abyss nodded causing Mist to ponder. In conclusion, I would've likely succeeded in my goal had I pressed further. He decided to take a huge gamble after noticing he was in a tight spot, and resisting further will only deplete his spirituality reserves… Not bad.
The living room once more descended into silence, as Mad Wizard finished his reflections and blinked at the mostly untouched Desi pie at the table. "What? You guys aren't hungry? It's pretty good though." He stuffed some pieces into his mouth, while encouraging the duo to eat up.
This team is so awkward… The trio all thought at some point.
創作者的想法 
Chaoticwriting
Chaoticwriting This is an extremely long chapter as you can see which will explain the 2-3 days between chapters schedule. Now, this chapter covered a lot, but what some might find odd is how quick our boys and girls are adapting to their new life. Don't worry, this is intentional, and what John Wickham mentioned of possibly developing an issue deep down the line, will be brought up. This chapter featured two of the seven moderators (Mr.E—John Wickham, and Mist—Laverna,) with two others tagging along for each, making the number of "Transmigrators" in this chapter be six. Most chapters will follow this arrangement, but naturally, expections will pop up.
Anyway, I'll end my rambling. Hope you enjoyed it, and see you all next time.
每周推薦票狀態
-- 推薦票
榜單 
-- 推薦票