Chapter 5 Tarot Club
"I also have two Sequence 9 potion formulas that might suit you better than this lady's 'Assassin'," said the short-haired man.
Angel and the young girl turned their attention to him.
"I apologize, but please hear my proposal first. You might find it more satisfactory," the short-haired man said, addressing Angel before turning to the girl.
The girl looked at him curiously.
Angel suppressed her annoyance at the interruption and decided to hear him out.
The short-haired man detailed the two Sequence 9 formulas he had. One was "Sailor," granting excellent balance and fish-like agility in water, even allowing the user to manifest fish scales. The other was "Spectator," providing keen observational skills to discern others' true thoughts from their expressions, gestures, and unconscious movements.
He added, "Remember, whether at a lavish banquet or a bustling street, a spectator remains just that - a spectator."
This aligned with Angel's understanding of potion mastery - to advance, one must embody the potion's namesake, like Cole Granger becoming an assassin with blood-stained hands or an instigator inciting crimes.
The girl was clearly more interested in the short-haired man's potions, sitting up straighter.
"And madam," the man turned to Angel, "if you just need a legal identity, I have more convenient and affordable channels. You could get it the same day, and even the Central Archives in Backlund wouldn't find any flaws after a week."
"It's for my friend, not me," Angel emphasized.
"Ahem, well... your Tingen friend can go to the 'Wild Heart' bar on Iron Cross Street after 10 PM. Say you're referred by 'Captain,' and the password is 'half and half, extra sugar.' For 30 pounds, you'll get what you want," the man explained, playing along with Angel's obvious lie.
Thirty pounds... Angel realized her earlier quote far exceeded the market price. That despicable middleman... She thought bitterly, then replied, "Thank you, your information is very helpful."
She also noted the man's codename, "Captain," possibly related to the Sequence 9 "Sailor" potion or even a higher-level potion name.
The girl politely waited for their conversation to end before excitedly asking, "What about me? What do I need to exchange for the 'Spectator' formula?"
Remembering her earlier near-agreement, she turned to Angel and said, "I'm truly sorry, but I think 'Spectator' suits me better."
"It's alright, I've got what I needed," Angel said, shaking her head slowly.
The short-haired man stated his price: "At least 100 milliliters of ghost shark blood."
It sounded like a main ingredient for a potion, likely for advancing to Sequence 8 or 7, given that the man was probably already a beyonder.
The girl nodded excitedly, seemingly unconcerned about obtaining ghost shark blood. She then asked worriedly, "If I can get it, how do I give it to you? And how can I ensure you'll provide the genuine potion formula after receiving the blood?"
This was indeed a problem, lacking a neutral third party to guarantee the transaction. The short-haired man could easily disappear after receiving the blood or provide a false formula.
Wait, a neutral third party...
Angel looked up at the mysterious figure who had been observing their exchanges.
The short-haired man had the same idea: "I'll give you an address. Once I receive the ghost shark blood, I'll mail you the formula or tell you here directly. With this mysterious lord as witness, I believe we can both feel assured."
He bowed respectfully to the figure at the head of the long table, saying, "Your Excellency, you who brought us here possess unimaginable power. Your witness is something neither I nor she would dare defy."
The girl agreed, also bowing to the mysterious figure: "Your Excellency, please be the witness to our transaction."
Angel followed suit, bowing before asking a question.
"Your Excellency, how should we address you?"
The mysterious figure's fingers tapped lightly on the long table. The group watched for a moment before averting their gaze out of respect.
"You may call me... the Fool," the figure said calmly, raising both hands with fingers interlaced under the chin.
Though the everyday meaning of this title wasn't particularly respectful, Angel dared not show any disrespect. She stood up, placed her right hand on her chest, and bowed deeply.
"Respected Mr. Fool, thank you for sharing your name with us."
The others also stood and bowed.
After the "Fool" gestured for them to be seated, Angel returned to her high-backed chair.
The girl renewed her earlier request: "Respected Mr. Fool, may I humbly ask if you would witness our transaction?"
"A small matter. You may proceed," the Fool replied, seemingly interested in their exchange.
With the Fool as a neutral third party, the transaction between the short-haired man and the girl continued.
"If you obtain the ghost shark blood, have someone deliver it to the 'Warrior and Sea' tavern on Pelican Street in the White Rose district of Pritz Harbor. Tell the owner, Williams, it's for 'Captain.'
"You can give me an address now, and I'll send the potion formula after confirming the item, or I can tell you directly here?"
After some thought, the girl chose the latter option.
"Although it might test my memory, I prefer the more confidential method. Please tell me here.
"Mr. Fool, would you mind conducting several such 'attempts'?"
Angel, having already benefited from this gathering, agreed: "Mr. Fool, your power surpasses our imagination, but there might be areas you're unfamiliar with or not adept at. This young lady is clearly of noble birth, that gentleman has his own special channels and resources, and I can contact some capable beyonders. We might be able to help you with trivial matters you find inconvenient to handle yourself in the future."
The short-haired man nodded in agreement: "Mr. Fool, don't you find such 'gatherings' interesting? We have different backgrounds, resources, and information channels. If we could communicate and cooperate to a limited extent, it could produce wonderful, unpredictable effects!"
The girl, who had benefited the most from this gathering and future "Spectator," excitedly added: "Mr. Fool, I think this is an excellent suggestion. If the 'gatherings' become regular, you could delegate tasks you find inconvenient to us, within our capabilities, of course."
They all looked nervously yet expectantly at the "Fool," awaiting his approval.
The Fool's right hand left his chin, slowly tapping the edge of the bronze long table, possibly a subconscious gesture while thinking.
The fog surrounding the majestic temple fluctuated, seemingly representing the owner's changing mood.
The tapping stopped.
"I prefer equivalent exchange and won't have you help without compensation.
"Every Monday at 3 PM, try to be alone. After I experiment a few more times and figure some things out, you might be able to take leave in advance, so you won't worry about being in unsuitable situations."
This seemed to be an agreement to hold regular future gatherings. The group visibly relaxed, especially the young girl, who exaggeratedly clenched her fists and made a celebratory gesture in front of her chest.
"Since we've established regular meetings, shouldn't we choose codenames for ourselves?" Angel suggested, seeing the positive atmosphere. "We can't use our real names to communicate, after all."
The Fool nodded: "Good idea."
The girl picked up the thread: "You're Mr. Fool, from the Tarot cards. For a regular, long-term, secret 'gathering,' the titles should be consistent. I think we should also choose from the Tarot cards."
Tarot cards?
Angel realized that "Fool" wasn't just a common term but referred to the 0 card of the 22 major arcana in Tarot.
In this world, Tarot cards weren't very old, less than 200 years, yet they had become one of the mainstream divination methods. Their inventor, "Emperor" Roselle Gustav, was one of the most legendary figures of the Fifth Epoch.
As Angel racked her brain to recall the history of Tarot cards, the girl had already chosen her codename: "It's decided, my title will be 'Justice'!"
Wait, that's what I wanted to choose...
Angel, a step behind, quickly decided on her codename from her shortlist: "Then I'll choose 'The Empress'."
After all, she had inexplicably become female.
The short-haired man said concisely:
"The Hanged Man."
All were major arcana from the Tarot deck.
"So, are we the founding members of the 'Tarot Club'?" Miss Justice looked around the sparsely populated temple, finally turning to the Fool. "Is that alright, Mr. Fool?"
"You can decide for yourselves," the Fool replied, clearly not wanting to waste energy on such trivial matters.
The excited Miss Justice began discussing Tarot history with Mr. Hanged Man. Angel, worried about saying too much, listened quietly, but she felt the Fool's gaze occasionally sweeping over her, making her uncomfortable.
"...Emperor Roselle saw the Blasphemy Slate, and those cards hold the secrets of the twenty-two Paths of God..." The Hanged Man spoke eloquently about his understanding of Tarot cards, eliciting exclamations of wonder from Justice.
"Alright, that's enough for today's gathering," Angel felt the Fool's gaze leave her as his low voice announced the end of this "Tarot Club" meeting.
"We obey your will," the group quickly bowed, bidding farewell to the Fool.
Crimson light seeped from the surrounding dense fog, enveloping Angel. She saw that the Hanged Man opposite her and Justice beside her were similarly affected. As their figures became blurred and ethereal, the Fool's final words came through the fog:
"Let us look forward to our next gathering."
——————————
In the howling storm over the Sonia Sea, a three-masted sailing ship rose and fell among wave-formed peaks, like a toy in a giant's hand.
"The Hanged Man" Alger Wilson stood on the bow deck, his feet seemingly nailed to the ground, completely unaffected by the storm.
The deep red faded from his eyes as his consciousness returned to his body. Looking around, everything appeared as before.
But Alger knew everything had changed.
The oddly shaped glass bottle in his palm shattered with a "crack," its fragments melting like snowflakes in boiling water within seconds. They fell onto the deck with the heavy rain, leaving no trace of their existence.
A hexagonal snowflake mark appeared on Alger's palm, flickered a few times, then faded and disappeared.
He paid no mind to the destruction of this precious extraordinary item, instead clenching his fist and continuing to stand against the wind and rain on the pitching deck.
...
In a luxurious villa surrounded by lush gardens in Backlund, the capital of the Loen Kingdom.
"Justice" Audrey Hall sat at her dressing table, watching the ancient copper mirror before her shatter into pieces.
A deep red, like starlight, appeared on the back of her hand, shifting unpredictably before sinking beneath her skin and vanishing.
Only then did she confirm she hadn't been dreaming.
Unable to suppress her excitement, Audrey's lips curved into a smile. She rose from her dressing table, lifted her skirt, and curtsied to the air.
"Praise Mr. Fool."
The sound of light dance steps echoed in the bedroom.
...
In a cluttered study at 6 Daffodil Street, Tingen City.
"The Empress" Angel Grey, holding a gun in one hand and a bronze medal in the other, shuddered as if her soul had returned to her body and regained consciousness.
The medal in her hand seemed to have endured a thousand years of weathering, rapidly becoming worn and tattered. In a non-existent breeze, it crumbled to dust and scattered.
A teardrop-shaped gem was imprinted on her palm. A flash of deep red light passed, and a mark of the same shape sank into her skin. Then all strange phenomena disappeared, and the study returned to normal.
If not for the changed angle of the sun outside the window, she would have thought everything was just an illusion.
Her respect and fear for the "Fool" deepened. Angel tucked the revolver back into the desk drawer, planning to return to the living room for a nap before dinner.
She still had to go get her "ID" tonight.
Just as she left the study, she froze, remembering something important.
"Wasn't that medal... worth 200 pounds?"
...
In an apartment on the second floor of Iron Cross Street, Tingen City.
"The Fool" Zhou Mingrui stood confused in the center of the room. As the gray fog receded, he watched helplessly as the three people he had pulled in disappeared together. Finally, his vision darkened, and he returned to the scene of the "ritual" in the apartment.
His legs felt like lead, and his head throbbed with pain. The "ritual" had taken a much greater toll on his body than he had anticipated.
Zhou Mingrui checked his pocket watch, roughly estimating the time passed. Time in the gray fog seemed to sync with reality.
Dropping the watch, the torture of his headache became unbearable. He could only slump into a chair, massaging his temples with both hands.
"It seems I won't be able to return for a while," Zhou Mingrui thought dejectedly. The method of "leaving the same way you came" had clearly failed, and after experiencing the mysterious world, he dared not try other means in the short term.
At least not until his strength increased and he had a deeper grasp of mysticism.
"From now on, I am Klein Moretti," a voice filled with dejection, pain, and melancholy echoed in the apartment.
To alleviate the negative emotions threatening to overwhelm him, Klein turned his thoughts back to the recently concluded "Tarot Club" meeting.
People from all over gathering through the gray fog to communicate face-to-face and exchange information, this was practically...
"A social networking platform, right?"
The group owner "Fool" mocked himself.
Especially since one of the three was from Tingen City, perhaps not far from him. Upon realizing this, Klein couldn't help but look at her a few more times, trying to discern "The Empress" lady's appearance through the gray fog. Unfortunately, the mysterious fog's effect in blocking vision was excellent, and he could only remember her pale golden long hair and impressive figure, while her facial features remained blurry.
"They're just 'online friends' anyway. Even if we're in the same city, there's no chance of meeting in person," Klein shook his head, pushing away that slight urge to "meet in real life."