Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
The stone pillars of the ancient and majestic palace supported the high dome.
Klein sat at the end of the long bronze table, holding a translucent brown bottle. He checked it over and over again, but he didn’t sense any danger from it.
Let’s begin… He conjured a pen and paper and wrote the divination statement: “Its origin.”
Putting the fountain pen away and bracing himself for a blow, Klein glanced at the paper and the Biological Poison Bottle, leaned back in his chair, and entered Cogitation while reciting the statement.
Soon, he entered a hazy gray dream world and saw a dark but spacious room.
There were king cobras, black widows, and other strange plants and animals in the room. It was a messy and harrowing scene.
A middle-aged man in a white coat was standing in front of a long table in the middle of the room. He threw the snake gall and spider venom into the huge black pot that hung from the ceiling.
In the end, he even put in a few items that possessed a strong spiritual luster. For example, they would sometimes disperse into a black gas, and other times condense into dark green lung-shaped objects. Otherwise, they would be in the form of a tube containing a clear azure liquid or fiery red eyes…
The air around the black iron pot gradually became viscous. It was gathering towards the center, but it was constantly being pushed aside, making it difficult to achieve its goal.
When the white-robed middle-aged man saw this scene, his brow slowly creased, his expression looked slightly anxious.
He flipped through the black notebook by his side, gritted his teeth, and used a ritual silver dagger to slice open his wrist.
Drops of fresh blood dripped into the black iron pot, seemingly breathing life into its contents instantly. A terrifying suction force suddenly erupted, sucking in all the viscous air around it. The scarlet blood which had yet to leave his wrist was fully sucked into it.
And that wasn’t everything. Regardless of how the white-robed middle-aged man struggled to resist, or how he revealed a terrified expression, he couldn’t prevent his body from approaching the iron pot.
His body was stretched, his head was compressed, and amidst his screams, he was eaten, little by little, by the pot.
The hanging specimens, plants, and anything that could move or be moved, all flew into the pot.
Brown fog suddenly filled the room, quietly ebbing and flowing.
By the time it was all over, the room was empty except for the brown, translucent bottle lying quietly in the middle of the clearing.
…
The scene quickly faded away, and the dream world shattered. Klein opened his eyes and muttered to himself, So the Biological Poison Bottle is a product of a death-seeking experiment.
I thought it was a Beyonder characteristic left behind by some Beyonder… If that were the case, I’d have been able to divine a formula…
To Klein, a Rampager’s spirituality and Beyonder characteristic, as well as a spirituality and Beyonder characteristic which was contaminated by an evil god, could all be used to divine a formula. Just like the All-Black Eye which Nimblewright Master Rosago left behind. It was thanks to the isolation effects of the gray fog, and how the mysterious space was able to eliminate negative influences, giving him the ability to court death. Of course, a Beyonder characteristic involved many other additional factors. In theory, the chances of failure were extremely high, but Klein only had the confidence to do so after advancing to Magician.
Similarly, a Sealed Artifact formed by Beyonder characteristics could also be used to divine the formula for a potion.
However, if they were mainly ingredients, then through the production processes and dangerous experiments done by an artisan or other Beyonders, turning them into mystical items, then Klein’s divination would be useless at his current state. Even with the enhancement effect provided by the mysterious space above the gray fog, it was useless.
Not bad. At least I don’t have to worry about the Biological Poison Bottle having any other latent risks anymore… Klein glanced at the Werewolf fang and wisely abandoned his curiosity.
…
In Empress Borough, the opulent villa of Count Hall.
Audrey continued her study of psychology.
By her feet, the huge golden retriever, Susie, was sitting there, her eyes shining. From time to time, she wagged her tail, as if enjoying the scene.
Psychiatrist Escalante finished the introduction material and deliberately made a casual remark.
“Actually, there is such a theory.
“It’s believed that humans would inherit a certain amount of their ancestor’s consciousness over the generations; thus, forming the underlying logic of one’s behavior patterns. For example, although many people have never seen a poisonous snake, they would instinctively feel afraid and wish to avoid it once they encounter one.
“Why is that? This is theorized to be an instinct that we inherited from our ancestors, something that is hidden in the deepest recesses of our consciousness. In ancient times, people constantly fought with poisonous snakes and all kinds of ferocious animals, and they gradually carved this memory into their consciousness and passed it down.”
“How does it get passed down?” Audrey asked with interest.
Escalante, with her long hair which reached her waist, laughed.
“That’s a very good question.
“Some people provide explanations that involve a theory that everyone’s consciousness is actually connected at the lowest level. It is one entity, and the traces and characteristics left behind on this entity will affect the consciousness that belongs solely to them.
“For example, the lowest level of consciousness is like an endless ocean. Our unique consciousness would be the islands situated in the ocean and can be split into two parts. One is hidden under the water, which is the subconscious which is higher in both quantity and size; the other is exposed on the surface of the ocean, the superficial consciousness that can usually be detected.
“This is the axiom of this school of thought in psychology.”
Audrey glanced at Susie, stroked the golden fur on its neck and said, “So, we can use this connected ocean to influence the consciousness of others and achieve the goal of curing certain mental illnesses?”
This is the mysticism foundation and Beyonder powers of a Psychiatrist? But it doesn’t seem enough and is lacking something. For example, the sky above one’s head, the sky which shrouds everything? Audrey curiously thought as she wore a look of confused enlightenment.
“You’re really talented in this area!” Escalante praised in delight. “However, we can only affect a portion of the surrounding ocean, and through it, we can affect those who are close to us. If we venture deeper into the ocean, it will be easy for us to lose ourselves.”
She looked up at the ornate and complicated clock on the wall, smiled, and said, “Time’s up, this is the end of today’s class. Miss Audrey, if you’re interested in this psychological school of thought, then we can continue talking about it next time.”
“Alright.” Audrey stood up and bowed.
Watching Escalante leave, she nodded in thought.
Ma’am Escalante doesn’t seem like a real Psychiatrist. At most, she’s like me, a Telepathist…
Was what she just talked about the axioms of the Psychology Alchemists?
They really are patient. Why aren’t they trying to recruit me yet…
As Audrey was in thought, Susie commented happily from the side, “Audrey, I feel like she’s the same type of person as us. No, I mean the same type of dog. No, that’s not right… Woof!”
Susie, who only had a rudimentary grasp of the human language, fell into a state of confusion, unable to find the right words to describe her feelings.
…
South of the Bridge, Rose Street, outside the Harvest Church.
Klein, in his normal disguise, looked up at the Sacred Emblem of Life on the facade, held his cane, climbed the steps, and stepped through the main door.
The first thing he had to do was to confirm the situation.
Only by doing this could he perform better so as to ingeniously rescue the vampire, Emlyn White, without garnering suspicion. Then, as a detective who had provided clues, he could receive the gratitude from the White family and gain the applause of an audience.
It was bound to be an interesting performance.
The Harvest Church wasn’t big, as it only had a prayer hall. Klein found a spot by the aisle and looked ahead as he took off his hat.
Bishop Utravsky was preaching. His height of more than 2.2 meters, and his burly physique, which couldn’t be concealed by his loose priest robes, gave off an extreme sense of oppression.
However, his expression was one of extreme gentleness, filled with appreciation and gratitude towards life.
In front of such a “priest,” no one dared to cause a ruckus. The few believers quietly listened, occasionally making prayer gestures unique to the Church of Mother Earth.
Klein watched carefully, waiting patiently, neither conceited nor rash.
As the sermon ended, he gripped his cane and prepared to get up to proceed with his subsequent plans.
At this moment, a man wearing the priest robes of the Church of Mother Earth entered from the door that led to the room at the back of the cathedral.
He looked twenty-eight or twenty-nine-years-old, had black hair and red eyes, possessing a high nose and thin lips. He was handsome but didn’t give off masculine vibes. He was none other than Emlyn White.
Klein’s mouth gaped a little and nearly failed to close it.
Isn’t this guy supposed to be locked up in the basement?
Wasn’t he shouting about how determined he was, that he would absolutely not submit to Bishop Utravsky’s will?
Emlyn White distributed the communion to one believer after another, and he finally stopped in front of Klein.
Klein’s mind whirred, and he immediately in a low voice, “Are you Emlyn White? Your parents entrusted my friend to look for you.
“Why are you here? Did you encounter something? Are you in need of assistance?”
Emlyn White didn’t seem to have his unique pride and said with a smile that only looked slightly better than crying, “There’s no need; I will be returning home soon.”
He pursed his lips, shook his head, and forced a smile, saying, “I am already a believer of Mother Earth, no—a priest.”
This answer was completely out of Klein’s expectations. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond, and he could only shout repeatedly in his mind:Hey, you were very adamant about your worship of the moon the last time we interacted at the Harvest Church. You said that you would absolutely not convert to believing in Mother Earth. How long has it been, and you have already given in?
Isn’t that way too fast?
What about your persistence? Where’s your moral integrity?
My carefully prepared performance has been forced to end before it has even begun.
Th-this is just taking me by surprise!
Klein opened his mouth and suddenly realized something amiss.
Why is Emlyn White informing me of his conversion?
I’m just a detective who accidentally chanced upon him while passing by…
Does he wish for me to pass this message to his parents?
Is there another meaning behind this?
While Klein was guessing, Emlyn White put away his worried and smiled smugly.
“You don’t have to act, Mister Detective.
“Or should I call you the new owner of the Master Key?
“Hehe, to a noble Sanguine, everyone has a different smell and has different blood characteristics. Even when I was locked up in the basement, I could smell it. I remember your smell.”
