"What?" Leonard was clearly caught off guard by the response, momentarily dumbfounded.
"My Lord has granted me eyes that can peer into fate, and your fate…" Alaric paused, deliberately building suspense before continuing under Leonard's curious gaze, "is deeply entwined with the Joker Club. You were always meant to be a member."
It was, of course, pure fabrication. Leonard's fate had no real connection to the half-baked Joker Club, but that didn't matter... Alaric was confident he could forge a connection later if needed.
He spoke with utter conviction.
"What?"
Leonard suspected Alaric was pulling his leg, but those earnest eyes sparked a flicker of doubt in him.
Could he really be destined to join this so-called Joker Club? No, impossible, absolutely not!
Leonard shook his head vehemently but didn't outright refuse again. Instead, he said, "This is a big deal. I need to think it over and get back to you."
"I look forward to it." Alaric replied with a smile, unfazed.
Having achieved his main goal, Alaric chatted briefly with Pallez and Leonard before taking his leave.
This time, he didn't detour elsewhere but returned home directly.
"Let's see… Hmm, tomorrow does seem like a perfect opportunity." Alaric mused, flipping through a calendar. His eyes lingered on August 16, and he raised an eyebrow.
"Perhaps it's time to lay the groundwork for Lucifer's grand debut."
With that thought, Alaric opened a notebook to a page boldly titled: Lucifer's Backstory.
It was clear that when it came to crafting personas, Alaric was a professional.
After a moment's thought, he added a few new lines to the page:
"Occasionally, XX recalls the days before his transmigration. Back then, he wasn't called Lucifer, nor had he fallen to this wretched state.
Perhaps it's a twisted sense of humor, but after saving someone, when asked his name, he tells them it's Lucifer.
Fitting, isn't it?"
For Klein, today was a cause for celebration. He had finally fully digested his Seer potion and was preparing to make a few arrangements before requesting a special promotion to Sequence 8 from the Captain. Thanks to the numerous incidents around him, Klein's merits were more than sufficient.
His only minor frustration was that his income couldn't keep up with his spending. At the underground market, despite eyeing several desirable items, his empty wallet forced him to walk away.
"I'll just have to save up slowly…" Klein thought, a touch of envy creeping in as he recalled Miss Justice's lavish spending at the Tarot Club. He exchanged greetings with Old Neil, who'd accompanied him to the underground black market, and they chatted briefly. Then, the bar owner entered, looking both puzzled and relieved.
The bar owner was also an official Beyonder, currently overseeing this underground market.
"What happened?" Old Neil asked, noting the man's expression.
"A member of the Punishers' squad nearby nearly lost control." The bar owner said, his relief palpable. "It was a close call, but a mysterious stranger saved him. I usually dislike wild Beyonders, but… I've got to admit, this guy did good."
The revelation shocked Old Neil and Klein. Anything involving loss of control was no small matter, and they immediately pressed for details.
The bar owner didn't hold back, quickly recounting the incident. Just moments ago, a Punisher had teetered on the edge of losing control, nearly becoming an irredeemable monster.
But right before the point of no return, a mysterious figure appeared. No one knew what he did... perhaps he only spoke a word... but the Punisher stopped spiraling and returned to normal.
"Sounds impressive." Klein remarked. In theory, as long as someone hadn't fully lost control, they could be saved, but that didn't make it easy. Otherwise, the world wouldn't have so many lost Beyonders.
"What did he look like? That kind of behavior might suggest he's from another church, not some evil secret organization." Old Neil said, intrigued and curious.
"He was good-looking, with hair as dark as the night and golden eyes. Probably in his early thirties, dressed like a learned scholar." The bar owner recalled.
"I don't know anyone matching that description." Old Neil said after a moment's thought, shaking his head.
"Neither do I." The bar owner replied, unsurprised. "I'll report this to the Church's higher-ups. Maybe they know who he is."
Neither Old Neil nor Klein commented further.
After chatting a bit more with the bar owner, they decided to browse the market further. Their wallets might be light, but that didn't stop them from window shopping.
Klein and Old Neil soon stopped at a stall displaying various materials. Most were ordinary, but a few were genuine, rare spiritual materials.
Klein began identifying them, matching them to his knowledge, when he caught a glimpse of someone approaching from the corner of his eye.
Instinctively, Klein stepped aside to let them pass, but when his gaze landed on the figure, he froze.
It was a man in his early thirties, strikingly handsome, with jet-black hair and captivating golden eyes.
Almost instinctively, Klein connected him to the mysterious figure the bar owner had described... the one who'd stopped the Punisher's loss of control.
No way it's that coincidental… though, with my luck, it's not that surprising, Klein thought, oddly calm. Because of this, he didn't immediately look away.
Perhaps his stare was too noticeable. The man glanced at him, and the next moment, as if spotting something amusing, he raised an eyebrow.
"Interesting!"
The man paused, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, and shifted his gaze to Old Neil beside Klein. With a sudden smile, he spoke in a voice soft yet resounding like thunder in Klein's ears:
"You're about to lose control."
***
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