June 28th.
Klein, who had just finished shopping and gotten a divination from the beast tamer, was walking home when a man dressed like a bartender suddenly stuck close to him with a sly, greasy grin.
The bartender was tall and broad-shouldered, yet his face looked delicate. Nearly two meters in height paired with a babyish face made for a jarring contrast. His hair was fluffy and light pink, with earrings on his ears, and he wore gold-rimmed glasses.
If one had to describe him, he was like a crossbreed between a refined scoundrel and a suited thug.
"Sir, our tavern officially opens tonight at eight. Right now we're running an honest grand opening deal: thirty percent off, buy one drink, get one free. Interested in checking it out?" The bartender's pretty face was plastered with a fawning smile. His towering frame blocked Klein's way like a wall. He shoved a flyer into Klein's hand and leaned in far too close, making Klein shiver.
"Uh… no thanks." Unable to handle the man's "enthusiasm," Klein pushed him aside with his free hand and slipped past.
The bartender didn't stop him and instead turned to hand flyers to others. Klein walked farther away, the fawning voice fading into vague words like "discount" and "honest."
Back home, Klein casually set down the flyer and bag on the table. Without rushing into the fortune-changing ritual, he first translated phrases like "Celestial Worthy Of Heaven" into ancient Fusac and Ruen. While doing so, he noticed a faint cut on his left index finger—so small he wouldn't have seen it without close inspection. He didn't care much, but still washed it; infections were never good.
After that, he pulled out four loaves of rye bread: one went to the corner once used for the coal stove, one at the base of his dressing mirror, one on the top of the cabinet where two walls met, and one beside his desk amidst the clutter.
Standing in the middle of the room, he took a deep breath, then walked counterclockwise in four steps while chanting softly
In his anxious state, murmurs filled his ears—sometimes fine, sometimes shrill, sometimes illusory, sometimes tempting, sometimes manic, sometimes deranged.
On Daffodil Street, in the unopened second floor of a tavern, Sairuis lounged on a sofa flipping through the bestselling Storm Manor by the famed author Fors Wall.
A voice spoke—it was "Gornes," a tavern employee Sairuis had "fabricated" with [Mystery] using the likeness of some old friends. Selris couldn't be bothered to manage the tavern himself—it was far too troublesome.
"Boss, it reacted. Look."
Gornes held out his left palm. In the center floated a drop of blood, now glowing faint crimson.
Selris took it, smiling flamboyantly. "Heh, found a cat, brothers. He wants to come home with me."
[Ew, what a creep.]
When Klein opened his eyes again, he found himself drifting in boundless grey fog.
The fog flowed like water, scattered with crimson "stars." Some were large, some tiny, some deep below, some near the surface.
Confused yet curious, Klein reached for one of the crimson stars near the surface, hoping it might be a way out.
His fingertip brushed it—ripples surged from his body, sparking the star into dreamlike fireworks.
Startled, Klein pulled back too quickly, bumping another crimson star. Without noticing, an orange-glowing star shot toward him and plunged into the cut on his left finger.
Three stars blazed at once.
...
Loen Kingdom, capital Backlund, in the Queen's District.
In a luxurious villa, Audrey Hall sat at her vanity, caressing an ancient, cracked bronze mirror.
"Mirror, mirror, awaken…"
"In the name of House Hall, I command you to awaken!"
She tried incantation after incantation, but the mirror remained inert. After more than ten minutes, she gave up, lips pouting in grievance.
"Daddy was lying after all… always telling me this mirror was a relic of the Solomon Empire's Black Emperor, an extraordinary item…"
Before she could finish, the bronze mirror flared crimson, enveloping her whole.
...
On the Sonia Sea, an outdated three-masted ship pitched through a storm. Alger Wilson stood firmly on deck, easily balancing against the swaying.
He wore a robe embroidered with lightning, cradling a strange glass vial. Inside, bubbles rolled, frost gathered into snow, and winds scraped lines across its surface.
"Just need ghost shark blood…" he muttered.
At that instant, crimson light burst between the vial and his palm, flooding everything.
...
Back in the tavern, Sairuis shut the windows, sat by the bed, and felt a subtle pull tugging at his spirit.
He slanted his mask over his left temple, closed his eyes, and let the power of [Remembrance] envelop him. His body grew translucent, turning into a memetic form. Mr. Fool couldn't yet pull him into the fog—but if he climbed himself, that was another matter.
The "Blood of the Fool" floating in his palm flared crimson.
[Whoa! Feels good!]
In Klein's home, a wisp of protective, remembrance-infused power floated out from the discarded flyer, passed through the wall, and entered him, stabilizing his connection to the grey fog—preventing Mr. Fool from logging off too early due to an unexpected extra passenger.
...
Above the grey mist, Sairuis assessed his state. Unlike the others, who were dragged up as mere spirits, in memetic form he was entirely a spirit-body himself.
He tried to minimize his influence on Klein—like lightening his weight while floating. Not physical weight, but mystical "existence."
He slowly opened his eyes.
[The mist sways, Sairuis wakes.]
Bro, why are you here too?
He looked around: three others were present. One looked around in panic. Two feigned calm, though their eyes betrayed unease.
"Sir, where is this place?"
"What do you intend?"
"Hey, four people—is this a mahjong table?"
Audrey and Alger froze, then both spoke at once. Sairuis chimed in too, for the fun of it.
The same Loen tongue, the same tense atmosphere—except for one discordant, flippant voice.
"Where is this place? What do I intend? I'd like to know too… Mahjong? That exists here? You're a bit too jumpy." Klein muttered, calm again.
What struck him most wasn't the words, but the fear, wariness, and awe from the man and woman—contrasting the carefree one.
Pulling three strangers into this fog world was shocking even for him, the "culprit." To them, passive victims, it must have been unimaginable.
The flippant one might just be feigning calm to seize initiative. As a past keyboard warrior, Klein recognized the negotiation ploy.
Two choices flashed through his mind:
Pretend to be a victim too, hiding his identity, gaining some trust while waiting and observing.
Maintain the aura of mystery in their eyes, guiding the situation to extract useful information.
He seized on the second. Now was the time to leverage his advantage.
After a brief silence, Klein gave a soft chuckle. His voice was level, low but not heavy, as if politely greeting guests:
"An experiment."
An experiment? Audrey blinked at the shrouded figure. Ridiculous, funny, terrifying, surreal.
Moments ago she was in her bedroom. Now, this fog! How absurd!
She forced a flawless social smile and asked cautiously, "Sir… has the experiment ended? May we return?"
Alger wanted to probe too, but restrained himself, experienced enough to know when silence was safer.
Klein glimpsed the speaker's outline through the mist: a tall girl with smooth golden hair—though her features were blurred.
[She's really pretty.]
"Don't mess this up," Sairuis thought.
He could easily pierce the mist—but Klein's grasp on it wasn't yet stable. A wrong move might snap Mr. Fool's "connection cable," ruining much future fun.
[Blocking others from what you won't do yourself. Typical man. Family, who gets it?]
"Crap! It's version T0, everyone back off!" Sairuis` panicked internally.
[And?]
Klein didn't answer Audrey yet. He turned to study the two men: one with dark-blue, seaweed-like hair, medium build; the other with black hair, something like a mask clipped to his left temple, thinner frame.
Suddenly, Klein realized—once stronger, or once he understood the fog more, he might truly pierce the blur and see their faces clearly.
Here, they were guests. He, the host.
The shift in mindset let him notice details: all three figures were faint, tinged crimson, like projections of the stars above. These projections were formed by their links to him through the crimson. Sever the link, and they would vanish, returning home.
Klein gave a tiny nod, then smiled softly at Audrey:
"Of course. If you truly request it, I can send you back now."
Sensing no malice, Audrey sighed in relief. Surely a man capable of this miracle would keep his word. Naïve as she was, she hadn't seen the cruelty of the extraordinary world yet.
Feeling calmer, she instead grew eager. Green eyes sparkling, she asked, hesitant but thrilled:
"This is… such a wondrous experience. I've always dreamed of this sort of thing. I mean—I love mysteries, miracles beyond nature. No, what I mean is—sir, how can I become extraordinary?"
[By pushing current with your magnetic field, spreading it until you become the strongest magnetic being alive!]
"Shut up! Audrey's destined to be a magical girl! 'Magical Girl Audrey'—what a name!" Sairuis declared in the inner chat.
[Fool. Magic girls wield love and belief, walk their path unshaken by ridicule. Do you know what that makes her?]
"No, don't say it!"
[A magnetic madwoman!]
"Ahhh! I can already see her punching Klein down with a million-strong psychic dragon fist…"
[Damn bug, why waste that imagination here?]
No one paid attention to Sairuis's meltdown. Audrey, meanwhile, grew more excited, words tumbling out. Childhood dreams of legends and mysteries sparked again, banishing fear.
Good question… I'd like to know too, Klein mused, but he needed an answer that preserved mystery.
At the same time, standing felt too mundane. Shouldn't there be a temple, a long table, throned chairs carved with strange runes—and himself seated at the head, gazing down at them?
As the thought struck, the mist churned. Audrey and Alger flinched, Sairuis too snapped out of his rant.
In a blink, colossal stone pillars rose around them, capped by a vast dome. The architecture was magnificent, towering like a giant's hall.
Beneath the dome, the mist gathered into a bronze long table. Ten high-backed chairs flanked each side, more at the ends. On their backs shimmered deep crimson, sketching strange constellations not of this world.
Audrey and Alger sat opposite, closest to the head. Selris was to Alger's right, a bit farther down.
[Guess you got sidelined.]
"Who asked you?"
[We're having a party—but guess who didn't get invited? You.]
Audrey glanced left and right, whispering, "How marvelous…"
Indeed… Klein stroked the bronze table's edge with barely a movement, keeping his face calm.
(End of Chapter)