Klein couldn't help but feel surprised when he saw Ms. Amani's body suddenly tense up and then gradually relax.
Just when he was wondering about Fran's "abrupt" behavior, a picture quickly appeared in his mind. He saw the current state and movements of his whole body, as if he was looking in a mirror.
What's going on with my eyes? Klein noticed that in the picture in his mind, his eyes had been dyed completely black, gloomy and dull.
Fran looked at Klein, who had been silent, and suddenly said:
"Don't worry about it, it's just the potion leaking out just after your promotion, it's a normal phenomenon."
"You can now try to stabilize your spirituality and use meditation to help you control the overflowing effects of the potion."
Klein nodded in understanding and said vaguely:
"Thank you for the reminder, Lord Amani."
Fran frowned awkwardly, moved her position for the first time, took two steps back, hid herself in the shadow outside the dim light, and said in a low voice:
"Okay, now go and call the other members. For other members who know the 'acting method', I need to witness their oaths."
Klein stared indifferently at the shadow where Fran Amani was for a few seconds, nodded silently, carefully walked out of the alchemy room, and finally closed the secret door.
............
In the mass hall of the Holy Wind Cathedral, Alger was sitting on a bench, with his hands clasped tightly against his bowed head, praying devoutly.
The bright sunshine reflects the sparkling and broken spots under the stained glass windows with wave patterns. They are reflected on the unique stone pillar corridor of Storm Church with a combination of gold and silver. Together with the rough wave relief, in the shadows
Against the background, the treasured wonders far away in the Sunia Sea are reproduced.
With his eyes lowered, Alger silently recited several classic chapters in the "Book of Storms" over and over again under the illumination of the Holy Emblem of Storms, without paying any attention to the comings and goings of ordinary believers around him.
It wasn't until late in the evening when the servants in the Holy Wind Cathedral were about to replace the candles in the candlesticks everywhere that Alger ended his prayers, stood up straight, and looked towards the huge Holy Emblem of the Storm in the depths of the Mass Hall and the lectern.
The bishop who was preaching to the believers in front of him—a navigator of the seventh sequence—saw a solemn salute.
Seeing Alger's formal salute, the bishop who was reciting scripture also raised his right arm and beat it hard on his chest to express his approval of his piety.
Alger nodded invisibly, and then quietly walked out of the mass hall.
But he did not choose to leave the church directly. Instead, he first returned to the "Punisher" lounge located underground in the church and put on a pair of semi-old work clothes that were not eye-catching. Then he followed a few departing believers.
Walked out of the Holy Wind Cathedral.
For privacy reasons, he did not choose to take a public carriage. Instead, he got on a relatively clean-looking taxi near the edge of the West District.
Alger sat in the carriage and secretly touched an iron-gray charm in his pocket. He then leaned back on the chair and let his thoughts fall into a hazy state.
In the pitch black, he "saw" dozens of transparent silk threads densely interacting with each other. Some of them were thin or thick, but all without exception. They only shone with vague gray-white light. Only Alger's own body extended out.
A dark blue and black illusory thread appeared, which looked particularly abrupt.
After several confirmations, Alger quickly escaped from the weird and hazy atmosphere, and his consciousness returned to reality.
The reason why he wasted half a day praying in the mass hall today was not only to show his loyalty to the middle and senior leaders of the church, but also to take advantage of this opportunity to avoid being disturbed by other matters.
Today he was going to try to contact the mysterious angel, Edmund Jason, who claimed to be a follower of "The Fool".
In the Church of Storms, such behavior is absolute. It is blasphemy and betrayal of God. Once discovered, he will be sent to the Inquisition. What awaits him will be life worse than death, and the pain of the sealed artifact experimenter in the dark.
life, so he had to be cautious.
Fortunately, no stalkers were found in the investigation just now. Hehe, the people in the church have never trusted us "captains" enough... Alger slowly exhaled and looked at the person sitting in front of the carriage, looking slightly...
The old coachman said:
"Just park at a place with more bars in the Backlund Bridge area. There is no need to go to the place just now."
As a person who hides secrets, it is impossible for him to let others know his exact destination.
In the evening, the Backlund Bridge area was filled with clerks and senior workers returning home from get off work. Gray or dark blue figures filled the entire street.
Alger got off the bus early at a congested intersection. After paying the fare, he instinctively stayed away from the crowded center of the road and walked to a relatively remote place.
The bushes mixed with black, green and burnt red swayed slightly, and the dim yellow light of the gas street lamp pulled Alger's shadow, pulling it very thin and long, until it reached the noisy and bright street intersection.
"Iron Gate Street..." Alger glanced at the sign on the street and muttered silently.
This is an old street with relatively sparse traffic. Due to the lack of street lights, the lighting here is also slightly dim, which casts a gray filter over it.
With his good night vision, Alger discovered a bar hidden in the gap between a back alley and a street corner.
The bar looked very "professional", and the most eye-catching features were the seemingly heavy black wooden door and a tall man nearly two meters tall with his arms crossed.
Alger didn't make any attempt to hide himself and walked directly to the door of the bar.
With his weathered, bronzed complexion, which he developed from years of wandering at sea, and a face with deep features and rough outlines, he was not blocked by the big man, but because
With his dark blue hair and sharp, gloomy eyes, the tall man nearly two meters tall still glanced at Alger with half curiosity and half fear.
As soon as Alger pushed the heavy black wooden door open a crack, he heard the sound of cheers and toasts coming from inside. This made both himself and the big man have their throats squirm and swallow.
Immediately afterwards, he pushed open the heavy door with both arms and squeezed in. After the wooden door swung a few times, Alger's figure completely disappeared into the darkness.
This was the peak period of the bar's business. As soon as Alger entered, he felt the heat wave hitting his face. Stimulated by the strong aroma of malt liquor, he felt for a moment that he had returned to the sea and could no longer stop at any time.
He was always worried that Qilingers would be caught and confessed to him, and that his head would be missing.
Feeling the noisy atmosphere, he glanced sharply across the inside of the bar and saw two tables in the center of the bar. One of them was performing a dog catching a mouse, and the other had two men of medium build and tight muscles.
The boxers are fighting each other, attracting the attention of the surrounding audience.
There was a lot of performance involved... With just a few casual glances, Alger was able to discern the essence of the lively game being played on the stage, and the corners of his mouth could not help but curl up.
Then he stopped observing, protected his pockets and wallet, squeezed through the excited crowd, walked to the bar, and said habitually:
"A glass of renzi."
The bartender raised his head and glanced at him, put down the popular picture book in his hand, fumbled for the wine barrel, and muttered in reply:
"8p."
"Is there a separate room here?" Alger put down the coins he had prepared in advance, took the barrel cup and asked casually.
The bartender regained his energy a little, looked at him a few times, and a gloating smile appeared on his face:
"Unlucky, several of our billiard rooms are already booked."
"Oh, our boss occupies a separate room. You can only try to find him now. If he is happy, he might give you that room."
Alger frowned and asked quickly:
"Where is he?"
The bartender patted his hands stained with drink, wiped them on the towel, raised his arms and pointed to the side.
"In the billiards room No. 3, hey, be careful, he has a bad temper."
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?" Alger drank down the half-cup of Lielangqi in one gulp and pushed the cup to the other direction of the bar, heading straight to the No. 3 billiards room.
He did not directly raise his hand to knock on the door, but lightly tapped the wooden door with his toe. The seemingly solid door automatically creaked open, revealing the scene inside the billiards room.
The two men holding pool cues inside stabilized their movements, stood up straight, and looked at the door together.
"Who is the boss here?" Alger asked directly, breaking the silence.
Upon hearing this, an old man of about half a century wearing a linen shirt and a big nose looked at Alger for a few times, and then smiled deeply after seeing his appearance clearly:
"That's me, are you here to erect the pole?"
"I just want to borrow this room." Alger shook his head and closed the door.
The half-century old man sat down, slowly took out a cigarette from the pocket of his linen shirt, lit it and started smoking.
There is a huge scar on his face, which looks like it was cut with a semi-blunt knife. It stretches from the corner of his right eye to the right side of his mouth, lining his wine trough that is almost completely stained red.
The nose is more obvious.
Alger walked to the other side of the billiard table where there was no one familiar, supported his hands on the billiard table, and said in a calm voice:
"I have something to do. How much does this room cost for two hours?"
The old man suddenly froze for a moment, choked on the cigarette, and laughed. After a few seconds, he turned to look at the other man holding a billiard cue next to him, looked at each other, and laughed again.
It took me a while to regain my composure, as if there was a lump of phlegm stuck in my throat:
"Haha, are you from outside?"
"Everyone who comes here often knows that this is usually a place where my friends and I spend time. It will not be rented to outsiders. If you really have any secrets or want to stay alone for a while, I suggest you go to the hotel in the narration, where
It will be easier to get a private room.”
The man next to him looked at Alger's unchanging expression of indifference, suddenly patted the old man and whispered:
"Hey, Caspars!"
Caspars waved his hand indifferently, touched his nose with his hand, took a deep breath of cigarette and said:
"Don't worry, it's okay to rent. Just treat it as a friend."
"How much?" Alger's voice was still very calm.
"10 soli, after all, this room is not commonly used, so it is normal for it to be more expensive, right?" Kaspars cleared his throat and responded.
"It's fairer." Alger nodded slightly, and while answering, he took out a few banknotes, counted two five-sule banknotes, and handed them over.
Kaspars smiled and took the money from Alger, patted the younger man next to him, put his arm around his shoulders and walked out of the billiards room together.
After the wooden door of Billiard Room No. 3 was completely closed and confirmed to have been tightly closed from the inside, Kaspars lowered his smile and said to the man beside him in a deep voice:
"Pierre, why were you filming me just now?"
In Kaspars's impression, Pierre was a very bold man, and it was said that the boss behind him was a man with special abilities.
Pierre pursed his lips and said thoughtfully:
"Caspars, that guy probably came from the sea and is very dangerous."
"Well, it feels more powerful to me than the boss."
Caspars nodded solemnly, took a deep breath of cigarette, exhaled it slowly, and quickly walked to the bar, away from the No. 3 billiard room behind him.
Behind the wooden door of the billiard room, Alger carefully made sure that there was no risk of eavesdropping in the room. He walked softly to a chair, sat down slowly, and put his hands on the tip of his nose.
After taking a few breaths, he seemed to have made up his mind and recited the honorable name given to him by the angel Edmund Jason word by word:
"The embodiment of ancient legends."
"A symbol of mystery and rebirth."
"The immortal butterfly that walks with the pure light under the seat of mystery."
"The Great Edmund Jason the Corruptor."
As the deep voice recited word by word, the light and shadow in the entire billiard room were instantly shrunk by the gas lamp opposite Alger. It seemed that except for the dim light and Alger, who was bending his body in prayer, everything in the room was dimmed.
It lost its color and turned into an oppressive, pure, vague gray.
The stripped colors condensed in the only remaining light source in the house, intertwining into a colorful cocoon.
Click!
A crack seemed to appear on the surface of the illusory cocoon, and it spread again into a butterfly-shaped dark purple light, which was very illusory and shadowy.
The illusory light and shadow reflected Alger's figure, floating quietly in mid-air without making a sound.
Alger felt the changes in the room, plucked up the courage to raise his head, and cast his gaze nervously at the butterfly-shaped light and shadow in the sky.
The pure light-like shadow flickered for a few times, and the parts corresponding to the face were strangely reflected along the outline of Alger's face.
After the last stroke was made, the strange pure light distorted, and the entire billiard room returned to its original state.
Edmund Jason, who traveled through some mysterious magic, raised the corners of his mouth, looked at Alger who lowered his head and saluted, and said with a smile: