Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

14
"…You have fully mastered the Diviner's potion?"

In the Nighthawks' entertainment room, the people who were discussing Klein's "Diviner's Code" fell silent for a moment because of this sentence. The Nighthawks all turned their eyes to the old "secret peeper" who had just opened the door. Old Neil, who had hurried over after hearing that Klein had submitted his promotion application, was wearing a black classical wizard robe, holding a felt hat of the same color in one hand and a packed box in the other. He looked at Klein in surprise and looked him up and down several times.

“I must praise the goddess, and thank you for your teachings.” Klein laughed dryly and said seriously.

"You actually found inspiration from the motto of the Secret Peeper and Daly's experience..." Old Neil looked at him for a few more times, then smiled bitterly and shook his head. "You are young and powerful. If it was twenty years earlier, if it was twenty years earlier, I would also..."

“Perhaps it doesn’t make any difference, because the Church doesn’t have the formula for Sequence 8 Secret Peeper,” Klein said comfortingly.

"Maybe the temple will have them... maybe we can find them in the underground exchange, but I am also very glad that I didn't get promoted and have lived a healthy life for decades. Praise the goddess." The old secret peeper was depressed for a few minutes, then he adjusted himself and raised the paper box in his hand with a smile, "This is a day worth celebrating. By chance, Sally has baked a lot of cookies and butter cakes. She just learned the skills from Madam Mary. You are in for a treat."

Everyone's expression changed instantly.

"Mrs. Sally baked some cookies?"

"Biscuits, what flavor? Any chocolate ones?"

"I haven't tasted Mrs. Sally's cooking for a long time!" Leonard cheered, and the usually quiet Miss Siga Tron showed an expectant look. Even the coldest corpse collector Fry sat up straighter, and the silent entertainment room became lively again. Old Neil smiled and opened the box, took out a piece of cake that was enough for everyone, and arranged the cookies of various flavors, and then went to make coffee for everyone.

Leonard quickly took the first milk cookie and put it into his mouth happily, but it had no taste and texture when he chewed it.

Leonard:?

Leonard's expression changed a little. He lowered his head and pretended to chew, and whispered quietly:

"Old man, are you going to grab this too?!"

What are you arguing about? It's just a cookie. The mysterious parasite's old voice sounded, "You can take it again. Mm, it tastes really good."

Leonard's face fell, and he reluctantly swallowed the cookie that was like a puddle of mud in his mouth, and reached out for it again. He carefully put it into his mouth and chewed it tentatively. The rich milk flavor and crispy taste conquered his taste buds. The cookie was still warm. Leonard felt very happy and couldn't help but echo the parasite's words: "Yes, Mrs. Sally's cooking skills are really good... She is also very kind-hearted and always takes the initiative to help Mrs. Mary in the poorhouse..."

The other night watchmen heard Leonard's whispers. Although they didn't notice anyone talking to Leonard, his words were consistent with the current situation, so they just thought he was talking to himself.

The parasite - the "thief" angel Pales caught a word that interested Him and asked in a guiding way: Poorhouse?
Yes, the workhouse, the one on Tingen Lower Street. Leonard had no doubts. Seeing Old Neil start distributing tea and coffee, he quickly raised his hand to ask for a cup. He heard that Mrs. Sally was once involved in an extraordinary incident and almost died accidentally. Fortunately, she was treated by the then director of the workhouse and survived until the night watchman came to rescue her. Mrs. Sally was always worried that Old Neil would be in danger. Fortunately, Old Neil had always remained at Sequence 9 and had no combat power, so he was basically a safe civilian.

The Ernst Charity Foundation? Pales thought, how much do you know about this foundation?
Huh? Isn't this a well-established foundation that has been established for more than a hundred years? Leonard paused while chewing the butter cake. He walked away with the water cup, became nervous, and asked in a low voice, "Old man, is there something unspeakable about it?"

No, it's a nice place, I was just asking casually.

Pales denied it flatly and stopped answering after saying this, leaving Leonard scratching his head and face in a state of anxiety, arousing his curiosity.

15
In the morning, I opened the letter from the editorial department. They expressed their satisfaction with the first draft of the play script in polite words. Along with the letter were suggestions for revisions and the remuneration for the last manuscript. I put the dozens of pounds into my wallet and understood the revision suggestions in less than a second. Apart from the occasional logical flaws, most of them were problems with details and the wording needed more polishing.

This reminded me of some experiences that I didn't want to recall, such as being urged by that child to change my name over and over again, until he saw that I had changed it to a point where there was no longer any demonic element in it.

"Please change it again, Lord. It's not easy to preach like this."

"Do we have to add 'bloodthirsty' and 'disaster and killing'?"

"Please stop using the term 'cold-blooded murderer' as a reference!"

"Lord, I think the first version is better..."

I was exhausted physically and mentally. ... Especially when this kid said at the end, "I wish you to find the light and humanity in your heart as soon as possible." I don't have these things in my heart. I lost them all when I set out on my journey across the stars. The poison of human nature only brings betrayal and fear. Being abandoned because of trust, perishing because of attachment, and dying in the mud because of virtue, just like the imperfect sun, I think this sentence is just like wishing me food poisoning as soon as possible. In the end, I made some design on the honorific name, "The Monarch from the Deep Black Land." The Deep Black Land does not refer to the abyss, but the starry sky. Thanks to the fact that the first sequence of the Demon Path is called "Filthy King", even if I write the word "Monarch" here clearly, the Seven Gods will only think that I am acting in advance, instead of associating it with the "Decay King" who is content outside the barrier.

And the phrase "the essence of withering" can point directly to me.

After all, the path of "withering" is only mine, and the same goes for "decline".

Someone reported to me that the Witch Cult had sent an application for cooperation. They had a key member preparing for promotion and hoped to have the opportunity to cooperate in the future. The Dark Saint who received the other party asked the ally, and the ally replied with a murmur, so the Dark Saint had to roll on the ground for ten minutes in the form of a meat ball with damaged internal organs and various broken limbs and eyeballs. However, his spirit was relatively tough. In other words, those who were not tough enough would not be able to survive in the Aurora for so long, let alone become a Sequence 4 Saint.

He spent two minutes putting himself together and shaping himself into a human again, and asked me while the witch looked at him as if she wanted to say something but couldn't.

This is a privilege given to me by my allies, because of my identity as a "remnant of the old days" and my caution and prudence over the past thousand years. When His mind is not clear, I have the right to make decisions on His behalf, big or small.

I replied to Kesma: I can consider it. Then I sent the witch away.

Among the high-ranking "shepherds" of the Aurora Society, there are a few who are relatively fresh and refined. It seems that only half of their brains are broken, and the other half can be used for thinking. The Dark Saint Cosma is one of them. To be fair, I am now just an angel of the demon path, leading a sect that is like a burden. The Aurora Society also has angels. In the eyes of the believers of the allies, I am obviously not qualified to be compared with their great Lord, and I am only worthy of being His subordinate. The Holy Word Angel Stif is the representative of this faction.

So I'm glad there are still some sane people in this place who were willing to call on their allies to seek justice when Stiver challenged me and nearly got me killed.

But it is troublesome to keep this sequence. I have been pretending to be an angel for more than 1,300 years. Although this is reasonable as a "devil", it is a way to commit murder and arson. The Seven Gods will not let me act.

I have digested the potion, and although the ritual of upgrading from two to one is not perfect, it has already reached the standard. I have been dormant for long enough, and it is time to find an opportunity to "promote" to Sequence One. ...But Fabuti is still in the hands of the Mother Tree of Desire, with his only Sequence One characteristics and uniqueness, and the whereabouts of the other Sequence One that my ally promised to help me find is still unknown.

Switching to the "prisoner" path is not feasible. The "bound god" is also at the Mother Tree of Desire. It is better to eat the ready-made stock than to rob the "evil god" Sua. In the end, I have no intention of becoming a god, let alone becoming a true god. I am the Old One. I just plan to find an opportunity to tear open the seal to find the remaining half of my source, completely contain it, and obtain the authority to turn everything into chaos.

But until now, I still haven't felt where the "sea of ​​flowers" is.

I tuned aside the prayers of the Aurora Church and my own followers, and selectively responded to a few of them. The content of the prayers was quite common. The typewriter on the table started to work on its own, and I began to revise the manuscript.

16
This time, the Tarot Club started normally. After completing the transaction of the "Mind Reader" formula and using this time to diligently study mysticism knowledge and gaining praise from Miss "Justice", "The Fool" Klein shifted his attention to the few pages of Roselle's diary in front of him.

On the yellow-brown parchment, slightly twisted and ferocious Chinese characters read:
"On August 8, I saw the strength of the High-Sequence Experts. It was simply terrifying. In some ways, they have undergone a qualitative change and become like gods. No wonder they are called demigods..."

"On August 8, the strange attitude of the seven major churches towards potions made me feel strange. ... There must be a secret hidden in it that I don't know."

"August 8th. I don't feel good about what happened in the past two days. The industrial revolution that I started with my own hands, the era of steam and machinery that I created with my own hands, will it become a hotbed for the advent of evil gods?"

"Another thing happened today that made me a little happier. My high-profile act of reproducing Earth's literature attracted a fellow countryman. Well, perhaps it would be more appropriate to say a foreigner. He found me using mysterious methods. He is undoubtedly a High-Sequence Expert. If he hadn't asked me right away, 'Do you want me to ask Alexandre Dumas for the copyright fee?' I would have liked him better! Damn it, he didn't understand what I was saying at all. It was so embarrassing. I wanted to use props to blow a hole and bury myself on the spot."

Replica, Klein almost laughed out loud, it seems that Emperor Roselle, the plagiarist, still has some shame! You can imagine how embarrassing the scene was. I didn't expect there are other travelers in this world. I wonder if I have the chance to meet them. Although according to Roselle, the other party is not from the same country, Klein still has some expectations. His brows are slightly relaxed, and his fingers gently tap the edge of the bronze table, attracting everyone's attention.

High-Sequence Warriors can live for a long time, but Emperor Roselle has passed away. Is this time traveler really still alive?
Thinking of this, Klein's mood became a little depressed again. Then the description of "the hotbed of the evil god's advent" caught his attention. However, after thinking about it for a while without any results, he gave up the idea of ​​investigating it further. He stopped knocking on the bronze table and said to the Hanged Man, Sun, and Justice in front of him, "You can communicate on your own."

Alger, the Hanged Man, immediately said:

"Mr. Fool, Ms. Justice, I just received intelligence that Vice Admiral Hurricane Qilingos infiltrated Backlund to complete a mission. He will stay there for a long time..."

TBC
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*Qidian actually notifies you of the number of readers? I was shocked. I posted it and found that some people actually read it. Thank you!

*Do you think I would think about how to save old Neil? No, I did the exact opposite. In this world, Mrs. Sally Starr never died, and they lived happily for more than thirty years.

(End of this chapter)