"In this era, making money is still quite easy." Sairuis thought as he walked, lightly tapping his right wrist. A translucent light screen appeared before his eyes—ether editing technology from Punklorde.
[Punklorde is a world of HSR for gamers and Hackers. Its also where Silver Wolf is from]
Passing a small barbecue stall, he pointed at the vendor's cash box. The currency data appeared on the light screen. Sairuis tapped "Print," and stacks of pennies and solis were printed out into his hand, which he stuffed into the re-trained, obedient Bucket Kid.
For this world, such technology was undoubtedly a dimensionality-reduction strike. And the locals had no means to counter it.
[Doing this, aren't you afraid of disrupting the currency system?]
"Not really," Sairuis explained. "Unless I print tens of millions of pounds at once, this small change won't make a ripple across Loen."
[But with so many Beyonders, how does the monetary system stay balanced? Surely there are ways to conjure gold pounds by hand?]
"Low sequences can't do it, and high sequences don't need to. Most money created through supernatural means can't last. Like the historical projections—those can't flow into markets. In essence, it's no different from stealing."
Sairuis swiped again, changing his clothes like a magician.
Now he wore a gray linen shirt under a black trench coat, wide-legged black trousers, a beige deerstalker, cream gloves, an emerald brooch on his left lapel, and held a black cane with silver trim. The Bucket Kid sat on his shoulder as decoration. An orange-red mask hung at his waist.
Though it was June, Tingen lay in Loen's north and was already cool. Many wore trench coats, so he didn't stand out.
These were clothes once recommended to him at the Genius Society. Quite fitting now.
Closing the ether panel, he deactivated psychological concealment. An elegant British-style gentleman slipped silently into the crowd—drawing no attention.
In the original novel, the thing mentioned most often—besides Mr. Fool's divine washroom—was the gold pound.
[God Of Bathroom and Poverty]
On a whim, he wanted to see what magic this treasure had that Mr. Fool adored so much.
"Bit unlucky today." He had hoped to record some gold pound bills for printing. But after all this walking, no vendor or passerby had paid with one. He scratched his head.
Gold pounds weren't important, yet he couldn't help wanting them. The odd urge made him rub his temples.
"Maybe Klein's obsession with them rubbed off on me."
He also needed lodging. In the novel, Klein first lived on Iron Cross Street—maybe he could borrow a bed…
At the trackless carriage stop, Sairuis saw a man in plain white robes with a pale golden beard covering half his face, a cross pendant on his chest—a humble priest.
His gaze slid past him to the stop. He remembered descriptions of the public carriage from the novel and grew curious. He shelved the Klein idea for now.
"Passengers boarding, hurry up." The conductor didn't look up.
Thanks to the synesthetic beacon, Sairuis easily understood.
"Hmm…" He couldn't recall many place names from the novel.
He didn't move forward—no real need to ride—but then the priest boarded, handed over 5 pence, and said gently, "Red Moon Street."
"Then I'll go to Red Moon Street too." He followed the priest aboard, simply wanting to experience it.
"5 pence."
…
"Too bumpy." He frowned as he got off. The Bucket Kid mimed vomiting but produced nothing.
Still wanting a gold pound—thanks to Klein's influence—he turned a corner and spotted a white building. Surely inside there'd be some? Copying them wasn't theft, he reasoned.
[Don't be afraid, brothers, the king's assault begins!]
St. Selena Cathedral.
A Gothic structure, black-walled, with a mottled clock tower on its façade, piercing the clouds between red-blue lattice windows.
Sairuis walked inside, down the aisle, and dropped a 5 soli bill into the donation box. As his hand dipped in, he copied the data of other bills.
"The Goddess will bless you." A nun nearby offered her soft blessing. She was beautiful, but expressionless, her dark eyes lacking spirit.
Finally! He felt satisfied, mood lifted enough to stay for a mass—it was Sunday, after all. Lucky.
Admiring the newly printed gold pound with George III's mustached, stern face, he recalled Klein once found it "cute." Perhaps when Klein killed George III later, he could hold him at gunpoint and say, "I loved you once."
"Strange… I feel relaxed in church. As expected of the God of Rest and Silence." Sairuis settled in to hear the bishop's deep sermon.
"They are naked, without clothes or food, exposed to the cold.
"They are drenched by rain, with no shelter, clinging to rock.
"They are mothers robbed of children, orphans without hope, paupers forced off the path.
"The night did not abandon them, but gave its care."
…
Watching the Night's holy symbol on the wall, his spirit eased, though his brow furrowed tighter.
Wanting to meet the protagonist was natural for a transmigrator, but his desperation to approach Klein—to approach the heir of the Sefirah Castle—wasn't normal.
"Damn it—cough." He stopped himself—it was, after all, the Goddess's church.
[The vanished Gobi.]
"Owe her a favor now…" He grimaced, traced a crimson moon on his chest, and muttered, "Praise the Goddess, praise Adam."
[Who understands? Went out and got eyed by a smug nun. Shaking, cold. When will we men rise up? If I'd fallen into her trap, who knows—I'd be toyed with day and night, playing 'S&M admiration.']
"Evil Fallen Mother Goddess… I'll personally—" Sairuis muttered.
[Courting death! Courting death! Eat my green horse snare!]
Yet the sermon calmed him, and he softly praised the Goddess again.
[Still praising? Switching faith already? You're disloyal! Inquisition!]
"Joking. We Elation believers are the most faithful in the cosmos. Are you steadfast in Aha?"
[Bold! I worship Aeon Of Beauty, Idrila.]
"Huh, but I suddenly think the Night Goddess might be Akivili in disguise. Makes sense, doesn't it?"
[I'm a fictional historian—that's canon now.]
"In any case, Aha, stop contacting me—I'm afraid the Goddess will misunderstand."
[Legendary. Absolutely legendary.]
PS: Many say the protagonist gets dull in the next few chapters—that's true. Since this is a behind-the-scenes novel, he must step back after early appearances.
(End of Chapter)