"Extra! Extra! Vice Admiral Hurricane Qilangos slain in Backlund!"
"The mysterious Tarot Club claims responsibility!"
"Pfft... "
The next morning, Klein nearly spat out his coffee at the newsboy's shouts. Setting down his cup, he dashed outside to buy a newspaper. After reading it carefully, he breathed a sigh of relief.
The paper didn't overhype the Tarot Club's existence. It merely mentioned that the mysterious Tarot Club assisted the official Churches in defeating Qilangos.
The "Tarot Club claims responsibility!" bit was likely just the newsboy's flair to spark curiosity. After all, an unknown organization pulling off such a feat was bound to draw attention.
Klein relaxed, torn between amusement and exasperation.
"The Tarot Club's made a name for itself this time, but who'd guess that I, the Fool, just got warned by my own 'subordinate,' haha." Klein muttered to himself, then frowned. "How did the authorities know the name 'Tarot Club'? Could Miss Justice have steered them to it?"
He thought it over and decided it was likely.
"Well, it's not a bad thing. At least we've got a friendly tag with the authorities now…" Klein shook his head. The Tarot Club's fame was unexpected, and before Lucifer's endorsement, he'd have resisted it. But now? Let it be famous!
Finishing breakfast, Klein headed to work. He'd been quite busy lately.
Meanwhile, at Alaric's residence.
Alaric glanced at the newspaper, unsurprised by the outcome.
He'd deliberately let Mr. Fool share the spotlight. As a Tarot Club member himself, Alaric didn't mind boosting its reputation. It'd be awkward to claim Tarot Club affiliation later if no one knew the name.
Plus, it reinforced Lucifer's persona in Klein's eyes, maybe even earning some goodwill. Why not?
As for why Alaric didn't promote his Joker Club, the answer was simple: this was too small a stage. He aimed for a grander debut for the Club, not this minor skirmish.
So, he let Mr. Fool have this one. Hopefully, the surprise wasn't too overwhelming.
"And with this performance, my Actor potion is finally fully digested." Alaric said, setting down the paper.
He headed to his second-floor laboratory. After resting overnight to restore his spirituality and prepare, having digested the Actor potion and gathered all the materials for the Mask Maker potion, he was ready to ascend to Sequence 7.
Alaric didn't rush. He first turned to a black glove on the table... none other than Creeping Hunger, one of the most iconic Sealed Artifacts in the original Lord of Mysteries, the poor thing that went hungry nine days out of ten under Klein's care.
After interrogating Qilangos about a mysterious island, Alaric had claimed the artifact. Using Azik's abilities, he sealed it, curbing its daily human-feeding habit, though it still required feeding after battles, as in the original story.
"This way, I can sell it to Klein. Let's see… how about ten thousand pounds? I'm such a good guy." Alaric mused, idly poking Creeping Hunger.
He had no need for the glove. Its abilities were impressive for ordinary Beyonders, but for Alaric, they were lackluster compared to his Shadow of Time powers.
So, he leaned toward selling it to Klein, gleefully draining Mr. Fool's wallet.
"No rush, though. I'll wait till he's got the cash…" Alaric tossed Creeping Hunger aside and pulled an iron box from under the table, revealing a dazzling array of spiritual materials.
He selected the ingredients for the Mask Maker potion, then opened a nearby cabinet to retrieve a bottle containing the Chained God's blood.
Alaric cleaned a beaker and began preparing the potion methodically. He added the standard spiritual materials, then opened the bottle of the Chained God's blood. Instead of pouring it all, he estimated the amount needed for the Mask Maker potion... about a third.
The rest he saved as a medium for summoning the Chained God Tolzna's Shadow of Time.
As the third of the blood hit the beaker, a deep black spread from the bottom, followed by a vivid red. Within seconds, the red solidified into an inverted blood-red moon... a shadow, not a solid object.
"I get the logic, but why a moon? Because the Chained God's been corrupted by the Mother Tree of Desire?" Alaric mused, rubbing his chin. He wasn't worried about the blood's integrity... any issues would be tamed by Nyarlathotep's power.
With a flick of his hand, the Mask Maker potion's characteristic appeared. Without hesitation, he tossed it into the beaker, eagerly watching the changes.
Countless mask-like shadows emerged in the beaker, overlapping and obscuring the moon's shadow, yet tinged by its crimson hue.
Alaric stared for two seconds, shaking his head. "This is getting absurd." With a sigh, he grabbed the beaker and downed the potion in one gulp.
Chaos surged, his consciousness fragmenting. Countless voices echoed in his ears, distinct yet seemingly from one source.
"Who am I…"
"Who are you…"
"Who is me…"
The voices clamored, making Alaric frown. Then, a crimson moonlight washed over him, uncomfortable with a faint burning and binding sensation. It seemed to condense all the voices into one.
Alaric blinked, his scattered consciousness coalescing. He snapped awake, eyes opening to reality.
"Phew, mid-Sequence is indeed a hurdle. The God pathway doesn't lie!" Alaric exhaled, a grin spreading across his face. He had successfully ascended to Sequence 7, becoming a Mask Maker.
***
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