Two days passed in a blur of intense physical conditioning and mental preparation.
When the evening of the gathering finally arrived, Shen stood in the center of his bedroom, carefully checking his equipment.
He loaded Devan's silver-plated revolver, slipping it into a concealed shoulder holster beneath a heavy, unassuming gray cloak he had purchased specifically for this occasion.
He strapped a spare box of ammunition to his belt and patted his inner pockets to ensure the thick envelopes of cash were secure. He had brought 1,000 pounds of Zayros's money, along with 930 pounds of his own hard-earned savings.
It was a staggering amount of wealth to carry through the dark, treacherous streets of Backlund, but he refused to bring his entire fortune, leaving the rest safely hidden beneath the floorboards.
Better to be slightly restricted in my budget than lose everything to a random mugging on the way there.
Shen thought, adjusting the deep hood over his head until it cast his features in complete shadow.
He navigated the foggy, winding streets toward the address Zayros had provided, arriving at a large, well-maintained residence in a wealthy district.
After giving the required rhythmic knocks and presenting his entry token to a masked attendant, Shen was ushered into a sprawling, dimly lit sitting room.
The moment he stepped inside, he realized this gathering was on an entirely different scale compared to the underground warehouse gathering he had previously attended.
Dozens of figures sat in plush armchairs or stood quietly along the velvet-draped walls. Their faces were concealed by intricate iron masks, heavy veils, or deep hoods.
The atmosphere was thick with the scent of expensive cigars, burning candles, and a heavy, oppressive silence that only broke when a transaction was being actively negotiated.
Sitting at the head of the room, radiating an aura of calm, undeniable authority, was an elderly man wearing a half-top hat and an iron mask.
Eye of Wisdom, Shen recognized instantly. Detective Isengard Stanton.
Shen found an empty seat near the back, keeping his posture relaxed but his senses sharp. As he waited for the right moment to seek out Zayros's ingredient, his eyes naturally scanned the room for opportunities of his own.
He was currently still halfway through his digestion. But if he wanted to advance in the future, he would eventually need the main ingredients for the Sequence 8 Raider potion.
A Shadow Leopard Pituitary Gland and a Spirit-Eater Tree Root. Considering the sheer size and apparent wealth of this gathering, there was a high probability that someone here might possess them.
As his gaze swept across the ornate crown molding near the ceiling, his eyes suddenly caught a faint, unnatural glimmer in the shadowy corner of the room.
Hmm... what is that shining thing?
He squinted his eyes and looked carefully at the glowing object.
It was a spider.
Shen's paused slightly because it looked like it wasn't an ordinary arachnid. Its body seemed to be forged from pure, liquid silver, reflecting the dim candlelight with a mesmerizing, ethereal glow.
For a fraction of a second, looking at that brilliant silver hue transported Shen's thoughts back to his previous life on Earth, reminding him vividly of the pale, distant glow of the White Moon he used to see out his apartment window.
He sighed with emotion, stopped reminiscing, and looked at that spider again.
He didn't know why, but he felt a strange sensation that the silver spider was looking directly at him. Not at the crowd, not at the room, but specifically at him.
Shen stared back at it carefully, his muscles tensing beneath his cloak. He waited for it to move and show something mystical.
But nothing happened. The spider remained perfectly still, like a silent observer clinging to the woodwork.
Maybe I'm just being overly paranoid. This is a high-level Beyonder gathering; someone probably just brought a mystical familiar or a specialized observation tool.
Shen thought, tearing his gaze away and rubbing his temples.
I am too tense. I need to focus on why I'm actually here.
He turned his attention back to the center of the room just as the current transaction concluded.
Clearing his throat slightly to alter his vocal cords using his abilities, Shen projected a deeper, raspy tone.
"I am looking for the ear of a Six-Armed Gray Ape," he announced, his voice carrying effortlessly over the low murmurs of the room.
Silence fell over the gathering for a brief moment before a heavy-set man wearing a porcelain theatrical mask raised his hand from the opposite side of the parlor. "I have one. Freshly preserved. 900 pounds."
Shen's eyes narrowed beneath his hood.
900? It is too much. You greedy bastard.
Thanks to his extensive reading and the knowledge he had accumulated in the university library, Shen had some basic understanding of the mysticism market's true value.
The Six-Armed Gray Ape was a main ingredient for Sequence 7. The standard market price for ingredients of that level typically hovered between 500 and 700 pounds, depending on availability.
This man was deliberately inflating the price, likely assuming he was either desperate or ignorant of its true value.
"900 is absurd for a mid-tier creature remnant," Shen replied coldly, projecting an aura of complete, unbothered boredom. "The standard price sits at 600. I will offer you 650 pounds. If you refuse, I will simply wait for the next gathering. Six-Armed Gray Apes are rare, but they are hardly extinct."
The heavy-set man shifted uncomfortably in his chair, clearly displeased that his bluff had been called so publicly.
He attempted to argue the preservation costs and the extreme danger of the hunt, but Shen logically retorted every excuse with precise, calculated logic, leaning heavily on the confident, unshakable persona he had crafted.
After five minutes of intense, verbal haggling, the man finally relented with an irritated sigh. "Fine. 650 pounds."
Eye of Wisdom stepped forward to act as the middleman, taking a small fee to notarize the transaction and guarantee the authenticity of the item.
Shen handed over the cash from Zayros's envelope, watching carefully as the elderly detective examined the preserved, leathery ape ear with a magnifying glass.
The Notary effect is genuinely incredible.
Shen admitted internally as he secured the small wooden box in his bag. Having a trusted third party verify the item completely removes the risk of being sold a useless piece of rotting meat.
Zayros gave me 1,000 pounds. I spent 650 pounds. That leaves 350 pounds of his money that I get to keep as my commission fee.
With Zayros's errand successfully handled, Shen turned his attention to his own needs.
A few minutes later, a slender woman stepped into the center of the room, offering a series of intricate mystical charms. "Sun Domain Charms," she announced quietly. "Highly effective against the undead, wraiths, and corruptive influences. 600 pounds each."
But nobody wanted the charms, as they were too expensive, or they didn't require them at the moment. On top of that, it was just a one-time consumable.
600 pounds for a single consumable charm? That is expensive. Is she a Beyonder from the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun to be selling these here?
Shen did not know whether he should buy it or not. Though at the current moment he did not have a need for a charm, it could be highly useful later.
He raised his hand calmly and agreed to the purchase. He handed over 600 pounds from his own savings, tucking the warm, golden charm safely into his inner pocket.
Shortly after, a quiet man in a tattered coat offered exactly what Shen had been looking for. A Shadow Leopard Pituitary Gland. The price was 300 pounds, which was fair.
Shen didn't hesitate or try to haggle. He bought it immediately. Who knew when an ingredient like that would surface again?
However, the rapid spending was taking a toll on his finances.
Shen sat back in his chair and quickly calculated his remaining funds. He had brought 930 pounds of his own money. He had just spent 600 on the charm and 300 on the gland. That left him with exactly 30 pounds of his original cash.
Adding the 350 pounds he had earned from Zayros's commission, he possessed exactly 380 pounds in total.
As he looked around the room, several attendees began offering powerful Sealed Artifacts. The descriptions were incredible—rings that could summon localized storms, daggers that inflicted paralyzing poison—but the prices were staggering, easily reaching into the thousands.
Shen gripped his armrests, forcing himself to restrain his urge to bid. He had to be practical. He needed to look for useful things he could actually afford.
As if the world was mocking his financial anxiety, another seller spoke up from the opposite side of the room. "I have a Spirit-Eater Tree Root, 350 pounds. Does anybody need it?"
Shen froze in his seat.
He stared at the seller, then looked down at his own bag. If he bought the root, he would have exactly all the main ingredients he needed to advance to Sequence 8 Raider.
But it would also wipe out his remaining cash for the night, leaving him with a pathetic 30 pounds.
He gritted his teeth so hard his jaw physically ached. "I will take it," he said, his voice laced with genuine physical pain.
After the transaction was completed and the gnarled, dark root was safely in his bag, Shen slumped in his chair, clutching his nearly empty wallet with a heartache.
Was I cursed by the God of Poverty's luck?
He lampooned miserably.
I walked in here a wealthy man, and now I'm practically a beggar again. The Beyonder world is a terrifying vacuum for money.
Determined to leave before he accidentally had the urge to buy something else, Shen placed his hands on his knees, preparing to stand up.
"I am looking for the Sequence 7 Pyromaniac formula," a voice called out from near the front. "For this, I can give you three Sequence 8 Beyonder characteristics. Two of Sequence 8 Melee Scholar and one of Sequence 8 Midnight Poet. Anyone need these?"
Shen paused in his place for a moment, then started to get up again. He had the entire pathway formula from Sequence 9 Hunter all the way to Sequence 0 Red Priest perfectly memorized in his head.
But what did that have to do with him? He didn't need some useless Beyonder characteristics that he would gain no benefit from.
"If not, I can also pay with a package of highly specialized ammunition," the buyer continued, placing a heavy leather box on the viewing table. "Twenty special bullets. Ten Demon Hunting Bullets, five Purifying Bullets, and five Exorcism Bullets. It also comes with a matching, high-caliber revolver specifically reinforced to handle the immense pressure of these rounds."
Shen stopped abruptly and sat back down.
His eyes locked onto the leather box. Specialized Beyonder ammunition and a high-caliber weapon capable of firing it.
Those were things money often couldn't buy without deep, trusted connections to a major Church or the military.
Is today my lucky day, or is the world just playing a twisted joke on me?
Shen thought.
He did a complete 180-degree turn in his attitude, sitting bolt upright. "I have the formula," Shen announced, his raspy voice cutting through the silent room.
The buyer looked thrilled. Under the watchful, evaluating gaze of Eye of Wisdom, Shen requested a pen and a blank sheet of paper. He quickly wrote out the precise requirements from memory:
Main Ingredients: A Fire Salamander Gland and a Magma Elf Core, OR a Pyromaniac Beyonder Characteristic. Supplementary Ingredients: 50 milliliters of Fire Salamander blood, 10 grams of Magma Pyroxene Powder, 10 grams of Redcrown Balsam Powder, and 10 drops of Sun Star extract.
Eye of Wisdom scrutinized the paper for a long moment, verifying the mystical resonance of the knowledge, before nodding firmly. "It is authentic."
Shen happily took the heavy leather box containing the specialized revolver and the brass-cased special bullets, securing them in his bag.
However, as the transaction concluded, the buyer walked past him. The man leaned in close, a highly irritating, mocking smirk visible beneath his half-mask.
"You certainly spend money like a panicked amateur," the man gloated softly. "It was quite entertaining watching everyone ignore you earlier, right up until you suddenly decided to play the knowledgeable scholar. Are you sure you didn't just stumble across a dead man's diary to find that formula?"
Shen's eyes narrowed. An irrational, sudden spike of intense, boiling anger flared in his chest. He genuinely wanted to reach out, grab the man by the throat, and strangle him right in the middle of the sitting room.
Then, his mind cleared.
Wait. Why am I this angry over a simple insult?
Shen looked at the man's arrogant posture and immediately understood.
He's a Sequence 8 Provoker. He's unconsciously leaking his trait to irritate me and assert dominance.
Before Shen could decide how to react to the blatant provocation, Isengard Stanton's heavy cane struck the wooden floor with a sharp, echoing clack.
"There will be no conflict in my house," Eye of Wisdom warned, his voice low but carrying a heavy, undeniable pressure that seemed to press down on the very air in the room.
Shen ignored the Provoker's nonsense completely. He pulled his hood deeper over his face, turned on his heel, and walked out the front door into the freezing Backlund night.
The fog had rolled in thickly while he was inside, coating the cobblestone streets in a damp, isolating gray haze. The gas lamps flickered weakly, casting long, distorted shadows against the wet brick walls.
Shen walked briskly, eager to get back to Hillston Borough and secure his new items. But as he turned down a narrow, winding street, his senses picked up a faint, rhythmic sound.
Footsteps.
Someone was following him.
Shen's heart accelerated, but he kept his pace even. He didn't look back. Instead, he sharply quickened his steps and veered into a dark, narrow alleyway, immediately pressing his back against the damp brick wall.
He slipped Devan's silver-plated revolver out of its holster, his thumb resting securely on the hammer, ready to confront whoever was tailing him.
A few seconds later, a figure stepped into the mouth of the alley and stopped.
The man slowly reached up and pulled back his heavy cloak. He was surprisingly handsome, with sharp, aristocratic features and pale blonde hair. But the moment Shen looked into the man's eyes, a violent shudder of absolute revulsion tore through his body.
The man's eyes were filled with a chaotic, swirling madness. It wasn't the look of a simple mugger; it was the look of someone whose mind had been shattered and was living as a sane lunatic.
"Hey, young man," the handsome man said, smiling, his voice perfectly pleasant but carrying a terrifying, manic undertone. "Do you know about the Great Lord who created everything? If not, I can introduce you to Him. You are quite good-looking yourself. The Lord appreciates beauty."
Shen's stomach plummeted into his boots.
A lunatic from the Aurora Order.
He mentally cursed himself for ever thinking he was lucky tonight.
It looks like my luck ran out just in time to run into this lunatic. And what the hell does he mean, 'good-looking'? Are only ridiculously handsome lunatics allowed to join the Aurora Order?
Shen knew he couldn't fight a Secret Suppliant head-on without risking severe, potentially fatal corruption. He needed to lie, create a situation, and run at the first opportunity to report it to the church.
"Oh, the Great Lord!" Shen said, forcing a bright, enthusiastic smile to his face, though his voice wavered slightly.
"I have absolutely heard of Him! In fact, I am a huge fan of His rap—I mean, His soothing voice! There was a time I had the fortune of hearing his benevolent voice."
As Shen talked more, he made sure to become more enthusiastic to sound genuine.
"I just haven't had the proper chance to learn the doctrine yet. But it is quite dark out, and some officials could be patrolling. Why don't we meet up tomorrow in the light of day in some cafe so we can properly chat about Him?"
"Really, then you are a true believer in my Lord; you just did not have a chance to meet the right people yet. Hmm... and why wait for tomorrow? I can tell you about His scripture right now," the man said in a happy and crazed tone. "We can chat all night about the greatness of the Lord. Wouldn't you agree? Come, follow me."
Shen calmly followed behind this man with a heavy heart and listened to his somewhat crazy rambling about the Lord being the true god who bears the sin of every living being and is the only merciful god.
However, Shen didn't listen to him. The moment he was distracted rambling on about the True Creator, Shen found the opportunity he was looking for, spun around, and sprinted down the alleyway.
But unfortunately, it looked like this crazy lunatic's senses were really strong.
"Wait! Where are you running? Why are you not following me?!" the lunatic called out, his pleasant and happy tone instantly vanishing, replaced by a guttural, furious roar. "It means you are not devoted enough yet! Aaaaaa... you were lying about being a fan of my Lord! I will break your bones and take you to listen to our Lord's great voice!"
Shen glanced over his shoulder. The Aurora Order lunatic was terrifyingly fast, closing the distance with unnatural, bounding leaps that defied human anatomy.
Damn it!
Shen cursed, realizing escape was impossible. He had severely underestimated the man's senses.
Left with no other choice but to fight, Shen spun around, raising Devan's silver-plated revolver. He aimed it directly at the man's chest, hoping the mere threat of a firearm would intimidate him into stopping.
It was the first time in either of his lives he had ever aimed a gun at a living being.
But the lunatic didn't even flinch. He lunged at Shen, his fingers curled into terrifying, claw-like grips.
Shen shakily pulled the trigger.
Bang!
The gunshot echoed deafeningly in the narrow alley. The bullet caught the lunatic directly in the center of his forehead.
The man's head snapped back violently, and his body flew backward, crashing heavily onto the wet cobblestones.
Silence descended on the alley.
Shen stood in his place, frozen, his hands trembling violently. He lowered the smoking gun, his breathing ragged. A profound, overwhelming wave of nausea hit him like a physical blow to the stomach.
He stumbled to the side, bracing one hand against the cold brick wall, and violently vomited everything he had eaten that day into the gutter.
He coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his trembling hand.
I... I had to pull the trigger. If not, he was going to kill me.
Shen rationalized, trying to calm his racing heart.
Suddenly, a cold, bloody hand clamped down on his ankle with the force of an iron vice.
Shen gasped, looking down in pure horror.
The lunatic was crawling across the cobblestones. Despite having a gaping bullet hole right between his eyes, the man was smiling a wide, bloody, deranged smile.
The tenacious vitality of a Secret Suppliant! Shen remembered with a jolt of terror. They are like damn cockroaches!
This time Shen didn't hesitate. He aimed the silver revolver downward and emptied the cylinder into the man's skull.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Four bullets smashed into the man's head, tearing away chunks of flesh and bone. The man's grip loosened, but incredibly, he just took the shots head-on.
He was still twitching, his jaw snapping open and closed as he tried to drag himself forward.
Are normal bullets just not working on him?!
Shen thought in shock.
Shen kicked his leg free, terrified beyond reason, and sprinted further down the alley. But the guy did not let him run too far.
Even with so many shots to the head, he still had the energy to scramble after him, his body moving with a jerky, horrific momentum.
Shen realized standard ammunition wouldn't cut it. He holstered the empty silver revolver and drew the heavy, high-caliber weapon he had just purchased at the gathering.
He flipped the cylinder open, his fingers moving with mechanical precision, and loaded five Purifying Bullets.
He spun around just as the lunatic lunged at him again. Did an elegant mid-flip and shot the bullet straight to his heart.
Bang!
The Purifying Bullet struck the man in the chest. A burst of brilliant, searing white light erupted from the wound.
It was highly effective this time. The lunatic shrieked in agony, a sound that seemed to vibrate with unnatural, corruptive frequencies.
Shen landed on the ground with perfect balance and checked whether that madman had died or not.
Unfortunately, he had vastly underestimated the madness of the Aurora Order yet again.
Instead of dying, the man's body began to rapidly mutate, entirely losing control of his Beyonder characteristics. The handsome face tore open, revealing rows of jagged, misplaced teeth.
His clothes ripped apart as his body swelled grotesquely, his arms elongating into massive, bloated, fleshy appendages covered in weeping sores and dark, writhing shadows.
Despite the horrific mutation, the monstrosity still retained a terrifying semblance of reason. Its bloodshot, displaced eyes locked onto Shen, filled with a singular, burning desire to crush him into paste.
The monster lunged, swinging its massive, bloated hands to crush him against the brick wall.
Shen was horrified and disgusted by the appearance.
He had read enough about how horrifying monsters were in the world of the Lord of the Mysteries, but reading about it and actually seeing a man tear his own flesh apart to become a beast were two completely different things.
Shen remembered his intense combat training and didn't panic. He utilized the obstacles around him and the extreme acrobatic footwork he had learned, ducking beneath a sweeping backhand, rolling across the wet cobblestones, did a few flips and twisting to dodge the madman's massive hands.
Then he fired another Purifying Bullet, but the chaotic, unpredictable movements of the monster caused the shot to graze its shoulder, wasting the precious ammunition and only seeming to enrage it further.
The monster roared, charging forward to trample him.
Shen sprinted toward a stack of heavy wooden shipping crates piled near the alley's exit. As the monster swung both of its massive, fleshy hands down to crush him, Shen leaped into the air.
Using the crates to create a block, he pushed off with incredible force, launching himself into a strange angle, twisting his body with a backflip.
Time seemed to slow down.
Suspended in mid-air, completely upside down, Shen extended his arm. His Body Control stabilized his core perfectly, ignoring gravity for a fleeting second. He completely focused, ignoring the chaotic obstacles around him.
Bang!
The third Purifying Bullet struck the monster directly in its mutated, gaping mouth.
Bang!
The fourth bullet buried itself deep into the center of its swelling, corrupted heart.
Shen landed smoothly on his feet just as the dual bursts of purifying white light detonated inside the monster.
The creature shrieked in agony, its massive body violently knocked backward. It crashed into the alley wall, sliding down into a grotesque, smoking heap of ruined flesh.
Not taking any chances, Shen aimed at the creature's head and fired his final Purifying Bullet, making absolutely sure this guy was really and thoroughly dead.
The shot struck true, blowing away a massive chunk of his flesh tissue.
Because of his carelessness earlier, he had almost died. He had fired all the bullets, completely emptying the barrel.
Seeing that the monster was finally not moving, Shen heaved a massive sigh of relief and turned to leave the alley.
"I am sorry, Lord..."
Shen froze, the blood instantly draining from his face. He was shocked beyond belief.
The faint, gurgling voice had come from the pile of smoking flesh behind him. It was the lunatic's voice.
Just how much of a cockroach-like life do they have?!
Shen thought in sheer horror.
He swiftly turned around and instinctively raised the heavy revolver, pulling the trigger repeatedly, but all he heard was the hollow click, click, click of the emptied weapon.
Just as he was cursing himself for wasting those few bullets in the chaotic dodging earlier, he heard the madman speaking again and was terrified.
"...I could not bring this disgusting lying heathen to Your grace, who posed himself as your believer," the monstrosity gurgled, its flesh bubbling and expanding uncontrollably. "But I would like to embrace You one last time."
The creature's jaw unhinged, and it began to chant the True Creator's honorific name in ancient Hermes.
"The Lord who created everything..."
Shen's eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated terror. He didn't wait for him to finish the chant because he knew exactly what that honorific name implied.
If he heard the True Creator's crazy rap, his brain would melt out of his ears, and his soul would be corrupted instantly.
"...the Lord who reigns behind the curtain of shadows..."
Shen abandoned the gun entirely. His only option was the charm. He reached into his inner pocket and pulled out the Sun Domain Charm he had just purchased.
"...The degenerate nature of all living beings!"
Without a second of hesitation, Shen injected his spirituality into the golden charm, activated it, and threw it directly at the expanding, corrupting mass of flesh.
He turned on his heel and ran as fast as he could out of the way.
Behind him, the chant was over. The lunatic's body bloomed like a grotesque flower, preparing to explode with devastating, corruptive flesh and blood. But the Sun Charm collided with the eruption.
The two violently opposing forces—the pure, cleansing heat of the Sun Charm countering the degenerate, rotting explosion of the True Creator's small corruption—reacted instantly.
BOOM!
A massive, deafening explosion ripped through the narrow alleyway.
The sheer force of the heavy shockwave caught Shen squarely in the back. He was lifted entirely off his feet, blasted out of the mouth of the alley, and thrown violently through the air, tumbling heavily down the wet street as the deafening roar consumed the Backlund night.