The perception-blocking barrier dissipated, and the priest — whose very presence seemed to dissolve into the air — had already vanished.
Even though the angel and the mechanical being in the carriage could easily sense him, some appearances still had to be kept. Otherwise, it would be seen as provocation. But then again, handling such matters was more suited for the Red Angel.
Bonova stopped thinking for a moment. His eyes — utterly devoid of emotion — met Screwellum's mechanical gaze once more.
"Mr. Screwellum, the church is just ahead. May I ask what kind of energy you'll need for the dinner banquet?"
After picking up Screwellum, Bonova had immediately contacted the personnel stationed at the church to prepare the evening's arrangements.
"As for food, I'll leave that to your discretion. I can consume organic lifeforms' food as well."Screwellum's answer caught Bonova slightly off guard.
"Clarification: what I require is merely energy. The form of that energy is no different from yours. I see no reason to abandon the pleasure of dining merely for efficiency's sake. Of course, I might also need… a touch of lubrication."
"Then, specifically, what kind of lubricant would that be?" Bonova asked.
Screwellum reached into the air and pulled out a small glass bottle labeled in a language Bonorva had never seen before.
"This."
Evil Dragon Tavern, Underground Black Market.
Klein used what little money he had to buy a few of the materials he needed.
Just as he was about to leave the market, he spotted two figures whose clothing was markedly out of place compared to the surroundings — Old Neil in his black, old-fashioned priest's robe, and Stelle in her white dress, black skirt, and dark overcoat.
Old Neil never cared about how others looked at him. Stelle, on the other hand, had tried for over a month to adapt to this world's fashion — and completely failed.
Would her odd attire draw attention? Who cared! She was a Trailblazer, the freest woman in the entire universe! She did what she wanted, when she wanted! The fact that she hadn't leapt off a rooftop screaming "Lunar Typhoon Slash" already showed how much restraint she had.
Klein glanced at Stelle's outfit, hesitated, then sighed internally.
Sister… you've completely stopped pretending to be normal, huh?
Lately, Stelle had often come by to play games with Rozanne, and over time, she'd grown rather familiar with the members of the Blackthorn Security Company.
She never even tried to hide her identity as a Trailblazer — she just told them outright that she was an alien less than a year old.
But because she constantly spouted nonsense, aside from Klein and the occasionally thoughtful Leonard, no one believed a word she said.
This had left Stelle feeling bitterly disillusioned.
Even when I tell the truth, no one believes me. The world's malice toward us women is too much… When will we women finally rise?
"All done shopping?" Old Neil greeted warmly.
"Yes," Klein replied casually, exchanging brief pleasantries.
As they entered the market, Old Neil reminded Stelle, "Don't touch anything at the stalls once we're inside."
"No problem," Stelle said confidently. The whole universe knew she was a famous introvert.
Seeing them both there, Klein decided to tag along and browse a bit more before leaving together.
After a while, as Stelle and Old Neil were earnestly discussing the designs of local trash cans, Klein found himself speechless.
Then the owner of the Evil Dragon Tavern — Swain, a man in a tattered naval officer's coat with messy brown hair and reeking of alcohol — came striding in, face grim. He leaned toward them and lowered his voice.
"Everyone… I need your help."
Immediately, Stelle perked up. As expected of me! Even a casual stroll turns into a quest trigger!
"What happened?" Old Neil's expression turned serious at once, and even Klein tensed up instinctively. Only Stelle looked excited.
"Mission time! Mission time!"
Swain glanced at the over-energetic Xing, then said in a deep voice,
"One of the 'Hivemind' squad members nearby has lost control. We must deal with him before he harms civilians."
The atmosphere turned heavy — except for Stelle, who was still gesturing rapidly at the air in front of her.
Though Klein was startled by the word "lost control", he couldn't help but whisper to her when Old Neil and Swain turned to discuss details,
"What are you doing?"
"I'm skipping the dialogue to get straight to the cutscene," Stelle said matter-of-factly.
After Old Neil and Swain finished talking, Swain immediately led them out at a brisk pace.
A faint flash of purple fire appeared under Klein's feet — he quietly switched to a different pair of shoes.
Can't afford to fall behind. That'd be embarrassing.
The group crossed the road into the dockyard area.
Swain slowed his pace, pointing toward a river cargo ship moored nearby.
He explained that the others should help distract and contain the runaway extraordinary, while he himself would handle the rest.
Though Klein had faced danger before, this was his first time fighting a truly deranged beyonder.
It was his… first real battle.
The sounds of violent fighting echoed from above — bang, bang, bang!
Old Neil noticed Klein's unease. He handed him a charm and explained its use.He turned to give one to Stelle — only to find she was gone.
He looked up—
And there she was, already charging straight ahead.
Clutching a random wooden stick she'd picked up somewhere, Xing struck a javelin-thrower's pose, then hurled it with all her might, shouting—
"Take this! The Cloudpiercer Never Misses Her Shot!"
The stick, wrapped in the destructive energy of the Path of Destruction, shot through the air and impaled the runaway extraordinary, nailing him to the wall.
The man was no longer human — he'd mutated grotesquely, standing over 1.8 meters tall, dressed in shredded clothes that barely clung to him.
His exposed flesh was covered in dark green scales, with thin membranes between his
fingers and toes like a water creature. His wrinkled, half-human face oozed slime that dripped endlessly.
Pinned to the wall, the monster let out a bloodcurdling scream.
The makeshift spear — already unstable from the destructive power inside — detonated in his chest, blowing a gaping, bloody hole straight through him.
As the creature writhed in agony, white, blue, and red currents of electricity crackled over its body.
Swain seized the moment, lunged forward, and delivered a flurry of heavy blows to its head.
The electricity seemed to recognize him — it didn't lash out at his body despite his direct contact.
Klein hadn't even had time to use the charm before Swain let out a guttural roar, muscles bulging, and slammed down a final, bone-crushing strike.
The monster's head burst apart — dark red blood, gray-white brain matter, and green slime splattered everywhere.
After confirming it was dead, Swain straightened up slowly and took a deep breath.He stood there for a long while, staring down at the corpse.
Then, wordlessly, he pulled a dented metal flask from his coat, took a long swig, and poured the rest of the liquor over the monster's remains.
When he finally turned back, his posture seemed… older. More bent. More tired.
Klein and Old Neil stepped up beside him silently. The air was heavy — so heavy that even Stelle stayed quiet.
Author's Note:Some people asked me: "Why didn't Sairuiss come save the runaway extraordinary?"
Let me make this clear — don't mistake the protagonist's calmness for lawful goodness. He's chaotic neutral.
And he's the Masked Fool, not the Masked Babysitter.
People lose control every day — you don't seriously expect the protagonist to fly around saving everyone, do you?
(End of Chapter)