Klein lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Melissa's face frozen in death. Saw the Captain's severed legs. Saw Ince Zangwill's cold smirk.
He'd gone Above the Grey Fog more times than he could count, trying to divine more information about Ince, but the man was perpetually shrouded in a fog that even the Grey Fog's power couldn't penetrate.
Klein suspected it was some effect of Sealed Artifact 0-08. According to the Church, 0-08 was a terrifying object — one that had caused the destruction of entire cities and the deaths of countless high-Sequence Beyonders.
And yet, every time he thought about it, something felt off.
Because the man who wielded such an artifact had been driven into a panicked retreat by a handful of low-Sequence Beyonders.
"Perhaps there are things going on that I don't know about."
Knock, knock, knock.
A rap at the door. Benson's voice: "Are you asleep, Klein?"
"Not yet. Door's unlocked — come in."
Benson gently pushed the door open. In his hands was a small, pretty pouch, its contents clinking with a satisfying weight.
"What is it, Benson?"
After a moment's silence, Benson asked: "You're leaving for Backlund tomorrow?"
"Mm."
"Alright."
He held out the pouch. "This is Melissa's money bag. Take it all with you."
"..."
Klein took the pouch and carefully opened it. Inside were mostly coins and small-denomination notes — saved up bit by bit over time.
Among them was a small stack of high-value gold pounds: the 500 pounds that the high-Sequence woman had left for him last time, which Melissa had promptly "confiscated" to stop him spending recklessly. The money was clearly untouched since the day she'd taken it — she really had been saving up a nest egg for him and Benson.
Benson also handed over a bank deposit certificate. "This is… Melissa's death benefit. Take this too."
"Benson…"
"Don't worry about me. Living alone in Tingen, I don't spend much." He paused, then managed a small smile. "Oh — I've actually been preparing for the civil service exam. If I'm lucky enough to pass, I'll come find you in Backlund. You'll have to put me up."
"Anyway, get some sleep. I've been off work for days and have to go back tomorrow, so… I won't be there to see you off."
Benson hesitated for a few seconds, then stepped forward and gave his brother a gentle hug. "Safe travels."
"…Alright."
"Goodnight."
After Benson left, Klein sank onto the bed as though all his strength had drained out. He gripped the money pouch and the deposit slip, unable to calm down for a long time.
Eventually, he tucked everything carefully into the innermost layer of his suitcase. Once he reached Backlund, he'd find a way to verify whether the "sacrificial offering" ritual was viable — and then he could store these precious things Above the Grey Fog, where no one could touch them.
He'd just finished packing and was about to climb back into bed when a wisp of golden fog drifted into his vision. After a brief moment of disorientation, a blurred figure emerged from the depths of the mist — features indistinct, but radiating an immense pressure.
His heart began to pound. That figure is—
Normally, he was the one sitting high in the fog, gazing down imperiously at others. He'd never expected to find himself on the receiving end. Now he understood what Justice and the Hanged Man felt facing him at every gathering.
Klein hastily collected his thoughts and asked cautiously: "Might I ask who you are…?"
"Heh. Two days ago, didn't you recite My Honorific Name and beg for My help?"
So it really is Him — the Lord of Chaos!
"Were you satisfied with the help I provided?"
Klein immediately thought of the Shadow Merchant abilities that had appeared within him. Without that power — the ability to meld into shadows, to Shadow Jump — he'd have been completely helpless against Ince Zangwill. He'd never have had the chance to drive Ince back with the Flaring Sun Charm.
Without it, everyone there might have died.
"Thank you for your boon, great Lord of Chaos. It was only through your aid that my companions and I survived that catastrophe."
"Oh?"
Vincent, seated within the Nation of Disorder, smiled. "Then — what price are you prepared to pay to express your gratitude?"
Klein's heart sank: Of course. There's no such thing as a free lunch in this world.
Still, according to what Justice had told him, this Lord of Chaos seemed to match what Roselle's diary described — a being particularly interested in the "outside world."
Perhaps the "price" was simply telling Him a story? And even in the worst case, Klein could always reveal his identity as a "fellow countryman."
Perhaps… that might actually earn His protection, and help him find Ince Zangwill sooner.
With that in mind, Klein took a deep breath. "Great Lord of Chaos — what would you like from me?"
"Hmm…"
Vincent pretended to ponder. "Well, being so far removed from the real world, I rather enjoy hearing about what goes on out there — news, stories, that sort of thing…"
Klein immediately relaxed.
"However…"
Vincent shifted his tone. "Lately, quite a few people have recited My Honorific Name and established a connection with Me. So I already have more than enough channels for external news."
"..."
Miss Justice — you're definitely one of those "quite a few people," aren't you? Sigh. You accidentally walked Mr. Fool's path and left Mr. Fool with nowhere to go.
"Tell you what — two and a half small tasks. First…"
Vincent briefly outlined his requirement: facilitating cooperation and transactions between other parties.
Klein's mind clicked: This sounds exactly like what Miss Justice mentioned — that "Broker" woman had been doing the same thing. Justice thought the woman was playing the role of a broker. Now it seems… that was probably the Lord of Chaos's requirement too.
It was troublesome but not difficult. After all, with the Grey Fog and the Tarot Club at his disposal, Klein had a natural advantage in this area. The question was whether deals brokered at Tarot Club meetings would satisfy the Lord of Chaos's requirements.
"Second."
The Lord of Chaos's voice came again: "I'd like you to spread My Honorific Name to more people."
"???"
Klein started — he almost thought he'd misheard. Hadn't Miss Justice said the Lord of Chaos forbade the unauthorised spreading of His Honorific Name?
"Of course, every person you consider spreading it to must first pass your screening and receive My approval. Two principles: first, the person has some advantage in facilitating cooperation and trade; second, the person possesses some interesting quality that catches My attention."
"Hm — once the number who know My Honorific Name reaches a certain threshold, perhaps you could serve as My representative in the outside world. Manage and lead them."
The more Klein heard, the more uneasy he felt: This… this sounds an awful lot like proselytising. What's all this about managing and leading? That's basically a Pope or a Pontiff.
Oh no. Am I about to accidentally found an evil-god church?
Granted, he'd already cobbled together a Tarot Club and was technically an evil god himself, but Klein knew he was a good god… a good person. And he had no plans to expand the Tarot Club's membership any time soon.
Just as he was mulling this over, the Lord of Chaos added casually: "Pass along a message to 'the Fool' for me…"
Klein's pupils contracted instantly.
To be continued…
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