Returning from above the gray fog, Audrey immediately picked up her pen and jotted down the potion formula for the "Spectator."
"80 milliliters of pure water, 5 drops of autumn crocus essence, 13 grams of cow teeth paeonol powder, 7 petals of elven flower, the eyes of an adult Manhal fish, 35 milliliters of horned blackfish blood."
After a moment's thought, she wrote the names of various chemical compounds around the formula, disguising the page as a messy tangle of scientific notes.
She felt very pleased with her cleverness, her heart swelling with satisfaction. She even thought she could hear the laughter of her own soul.
"You're amazing, Audrey," she praised herself.
...
In a dim basement lit only by a single candle, Alger Wilson raised his palm and studied it carefully.
He sighed over Mr. Fool's might. To be pulled into such a gathering was dangerous, but also a rare opportunity.
His feelings were complicated for a moment, but thinking of the knowledge he had picked up for free today—though not priceless, it was still undeniably valuable—he felt it was a gain.
That thought improved his mood considerably.
...
Under the blazing afternoon sun, Klein left his house.
At this moment, Klein had no idea that the sun above his head was actually the Eternal Blazing Sun himself streaking naked across the sky. He merely sighed at how warm today's sunlight felt.
Since he had to walk from Iron Cross Street all the way to Welch's place, he swapped his formal suit, hat, and leather shoes for a linen shirt, a worn brown coat, a matching felt hat, and old shoes—so he wouldn't ruin his costly outfit with sweat.
On the way, Mrs. Sling, a kindly gray-haired old woman, called out to him.
Noticing the heaviness in Klein's mood, she offered a cup of sweet iced tea as a tribute to the great Mr. Fool.
A lover of sweets, Klein instantly took a liking to the drink.
From that moment, sweet iced tea officially became part of the "holy communion" of the Church of the Fool.
Having finished his search, Klein intended to head back to Blackthorn Security Company, but along the way, he saw a sign: "The Divination Club."
Divination Club… Klein repeated the name silently, suddenly recalling that he needed to "act" as a Seer.
"Well, let's go take a look… maybe find some new ideas." With that thought, Klein crossed the street, climbed to the second floor, entered the hall, and approached the reception desk where a beautiful young woman sat.
She had her brownish-yellow hair pinned up, and after giving Klein a quick once-over, she smiled.
"Sir, would you like a divination, or are you looking to join our club?"
"What are the conditions to join?" Klein asked casually.
The young woman, her hair coiled high, recited smoothly:
"Fill in detailed information, pay the membership fee—5 pounds for the first year, then 1 pound annually. Don't worry, unlike political or business clubs, we don't require recommendations from existing members."
So expensive! Klein gasped, singlehandedly contributing to global warming.
She continued warmly:
"Members can use our meeting rooms, divination chambers, and tools for free. Complimentary coffee and tea are provided, as well as free access to our newspapers and magazines. Meals, wine, divination manuals, and materials are available at cost price."
Klein's mind worked at lightning speed, calculating the real value of all this. He wondered whether he could pack up all the free coffee and tea to take home.
"Also, every month, we invite a well-known seer to give a lecture and answer questions."
Klein smiled without commenting, though inwardly he was delighted. It felt like the moment in a cliché story where the hidden dragon king's son-in-law reveals his true identity.
The three-year contract is up. The Seer has returned.
"The most important thing is that you'll find friends with similar interests and can share experiences with each other."
Ah, experience sharing… That might interest Leonard, but unfortunately, Klein himself wasn't tempted.
Sounds good. But… I have no money. Klein chuckled at himself, then asked, "What if I just want a divination?"
The receptionist didn't show any impatience, still smiling politely:
"Our members can perform divinations here, setting their own prices. We only take a small commission. If you'd like a divination, you can look through this booklet—it has introductions and prices for available members."
Hmm? Members can make money? Klein's ears perked up, and he listened with renewed interest.
So paying the membership fee might not be a total loss after all.
"However, since it's Monday afternoon, most of our members are at work. Fewer than five are here now…"
Perfect. That spared Klein from decision paralysis.
She led him to a sofa by the window, sat across from him, opened the booklet, and pointed out the present members:
"Hanass Vincent, a well-known seer in Tingen, resident mentor of our club, skilled in many forms of divination. His fee is 4 soli per session."
So expensive… That's enough to feed Benson and Melissa two fine dinners. Klein smacked his tongue silently, giving no reply.
A mere seer wants money from Mr. Fool's hands? Dream on.
The young woman understood his reaction instantly and flipped further, looking for cheaper options."Then perhaps this one…"
"...And the last one, Glaçis. He just joined this year. He practices Tarot divination, charging 2 pence per session."
"Sir, which one would you like?"
Though Klein hadn't answered yet, she could already guess.
And indeed—without the slightest hesitation, Klein responded purely by instinct:"Mr. Glaçis."
Correct. She was right. It seemed this young woman had some talent for divination herself.
The receptionist hesitated for two seconds before saying softly,
"Sir, I must warn you—Mr. Glaçis is still a beginner."
In other words: Cheap things aren't good. You'd be better off buying from a discount store—you might even get lucky there.
Of course, she didn't realize that mysticism came with a kind of beginner's protection.
"I understand. I'll take responsibility for my decision." Klein smiled and nodded.
Not that it mattered—responsibility or not, so long as he paid.
"Then please follow me." She rose gracefully and led Klein through a door beside the reception hall.
A short corridor stretched out, ending in a bright meeting room filled with sunlight. Inside were tables, chairs, newspapers, magazines, playing cards, and the faint aroma of coffee.
Two doors before the meeting room, the receptionist gestured for Klein to wait. She quickened her pace to the end, called gently into one of the rooms:
"Mr. Glaçis, someone's here for a divination."
The person inside pointed at himself."Me?"