"Mr. Fool, I would like your assistance in projecting the images inside my mind," said Sairuis, turning toward Klein.
"Certainly." Klein's tone was calm, as if it were a trivial request. He hadn't projected images for the Tarot Club members before, but he figured it couldn't be much different from manifesting the Roselle diaries.
At once, Klein activated the powers of the gray fog, allowing the space itself to cooperate with Sairuis. Above the long bronze table, the mist began to condense.
"I have three mystical artifacts here," Sairris said. "The first is called The Parchment That Never Stops Talking."
As his thoughts took shape, the mist on the table formed into a violet scroll. Strange, unidentifiable words covered its surface, and at its center was a grotesque mouth—tongue extended outward—wriggling faintly.
The disturbing sight made Audrey instinctively lean back.
"It feeds on history," Sairris explained. "Its greedy tongue stirs the collective unconscious of civilization, tearing it apart. I… acquired it from a certain genius. That genius sealed it by fabricating for it a false world's worth of memories to devour—satisfying, for a time, its endless hunger."
That's useless to us, all three members thought in unison. None of them could possibly create an entire world's memories—so once they obtained it, they'd have no way to reseal it.
"Though you may lack the means to seal it yourselves, I'll include a box that can assist with that," Sairuis continued. "The artifact can consume thoughts, memories, even the history within a certain radius."
"Mr. Devil," Audrey asked curiously, "what do you mean by consume history?"
"Simply put," Sairuis replied, "if the history of a place is eaten, then in other people's memories, that place's past becomes hazy. The more it consumes, the greater the blurring effect. At first, it might only affect ordinary people—but given enough time, it could even affect angels."
Seeing that Audrey had no more questions, Sairris continued, "The second one—Fortune Gel."
The gray mist reshaped itself into what looked like a toothpaste tube.
"This is also from that same genius," he said, pausing briefly. "Though this one, I bought."
"It's one of his inventions. Apply about one-fifth of it on your eyelids, and you'll enjoy roughly twenty-four hours of good luck."
The moment he said that, Audrey's eyes lit up. Alger and Klein, however, immediately thought of the Monster pathway.
Before Audrey could raise her hand to bid, Sairris moved on. The mist shifted once more, forming a deep emerald twenty-four-sided die. Each face bore a different golden symbol.
"This is the Dice of Everchanging Fates—a rather common mystical artifact among our Masked Fools. When rolled, it might grant you a sudden fortune… or a beautiful romance. But most outcomes are illness, misfortune, curses, or a lifetime of unending drizzle. It can be used only three times—after that, it becomes inert."
The gray fog dispersed, leaving the three artifacts manifested before them.
"The Parchment That Never Stops Talking, being a high-risk artifact, is priced at 15,000 pounds. The Fortune Gel lasts a total of 120 hours—1,000 pounds. As for the dice—it sounds impressive, but its effects aren't too serious. It's basically a toy—500 pounds."
Audrey raised her hand. "Mr. Devil, does the Fortune Gel have any side effects?"
"None," Sairris said with a shake of his head. "Its only limitation is that it can be used five times. And, of course, its luck isn't absolute—if a true god is determined to kill you, no amount of luck will save you."
Audrey's eyes rolled thoughtfully—she had an idea.
"Mr. Devil," she said sweetly, "I'd like to offer 1,500 pounds for both the Fortune Gel and the Dice of Everchanging Fates."
Alger also noticed the bargain, but he knew his finances couldn't compare to Audrey's. He had no intention of competing.
One hundred and twenty hours of luck… Klein felt a twinge of envy. Yet as Mr. Fool, he couldn't just reach out and ask for freebies—his dignity wouldn't allow it.
In the end, his high moral standards had cost him dearly. If Klein had been just a bit less proper, Sairris might've simply given it to him.
Then Audrey thought of something. "Then… how am I supposed to obtain them?"
"Here's what we'll do," Sairuis suggested. "There's a ball tonight at Count Wolfe's mansion. As a noble lady, even if you don't attend, someone from your family surely will. I'll bury them in the Count's backyard—you can send your pet to find them. A Spectator should have no trouble spotting them. Afterward, just leave the gold pounds there—I'll retrieve them myself."
That's not how a Spectator's ability works… Audrey puffed her cheeks in mild protest at his words.
"Alright," she agreed finally.
Afterward, the members of the Tarot Club chatted for a while longer. Then, with a solemn declaration—
"Without my permission, none shall speak my name."
—the Fool announced the end of the meeting.
(End of Chapter)