A Madman’s Guide to Chapter 33: She Still Really Likes Foxes

Chapter 33: Main Storyline, Choose One Out of Four (1)

The curtain of rain fell, transforming within seconds from a light drizzle with only a few drops into a downpour so heavy it almost obscured the path ahead. The complex scent in the air belonging to late November—a mixture of coal smoke, horse manure, and the salty tang of distant sea breeze—was instantly shattered by the rain.

Pedestrians on the street began scrambling to find shelter. So huddled against walls, others simply ducked into shops on either side.

After all, just a few minutes ago, the sky had been nearly cloudless. No one could have predicted the rain would arrive so violently, and not many had umbrellas on hand.

In comparison, Samuel was sowhat of an outlier. Holding an umbrella, sticking to the side of the road, cradling a book, he walked forward aimlessly.

Occasionally, soone running past him would instinctively veer around him, but wouldn't pay him any attention.

As the rain intensified, more and more information flooded into Samuel's mind. Vast, trivial, fleeting, the sheer volu of data cramming into his brain made him feel a bit of pressure building up inside his skull.

He continued forward. The heavy rain didn't obscure Samuel's vision; instead, it allowed him to see more clearly.

Although perhaps a bit too clearly.

The influx of massive amounts of miscellaneous and useless information made the perpetual smile on his face grow sowhat stiff.

"I feel like I'm actively trying to tank Gojo Satoru's ultimate move right now," he said, releasing the umbrella handle, letting the umbrella be held aloft by an invisible force, floating beside him.

Using his now-free hand, he tapped his head, destroying those useless pieces of information one by one.

Because of his perfect mory, he had to actively partition those mories, otherwise they would eventually overload and explode his brain.

This wasn't the first ti this had happened. He rembered encountering sothing similar a long ti ago.

But *The Lunatic's World Travel Guide* didn't have these troubles. Its very function was to process massive amounts of data. After receiving the information transmitted by Samuel, it rapidly analyzed, cross-referenced, and simultaneously connected those useful or useless bits of information, summarizing and deducing them into more useful intelligence.

It glowed faintly, indicating it was working, not slacking off. Pity it didn't have an engine, otherwise it would have definitely made so noise to show it was a super little motor.

"Ah, I rember now," Samuel said while rubbing his temples. "I'm starting to believe a little that you really are sothing I unconsciously cobbled together using Law Marks and Law Rhys."

"?"

The Travel Guide responded with a question mark in the center of its map.

"You didn't believe

before?"

"And what do you an 'starting to believe a little'?"

"Nonsense, how could I just casually believe in a book of unknown origin?" Samuel's reply was matter-of-fact. "I've read *Harry Potter*, you know. How was I supposed to know you weren't another 'Tom Riddle's Diary'?"

Text rearranged itself, first sketching a simple stick figure kneeling, clutching its chest in a crying pose, accompanied by exaggerated teardrops.

The image in the center of the map expanded to the sides, leaving a blank space where new text was described below.

"Ah, so sad. I feel like I'm about to cry. Too bad I don't have tear ducts. Maybe I should spray ink in your face right now."

"But unfortunately, I know you'd definitely dodge it, so I can only mutter complaints at you here."

After a two-second pause, new text appeared.

"So why are you giving

the 'golden water' treatnt now? Did you check my background?"

"This, ah." Samuel thought for a mont, not answering imdiately. "I just rembered I had a similar experience before, like today. Back then, I was thinking about making myself an external brain."

"Too bad it didn't work out in the end."

That was already a lifeti ago.

To avoid a predestined death, Samuel had once considered creating an entire city through one-to-one replication.

He called it the "Fake Death Lightning Rod Plan."

Replicate all the buildings, replicate the people inside, and finally replicate a copy of his own death.

Maybe it could fool fate?

He didn't know, but the result was still that it never ca to fruition.

He was a bit weaker back then than he was now, seemingly before synthesizing the Law Rhy "Absurdity Clown." He couldn't separate, manifest, materialize, and fuse his consciousness into a new artifact.

Back then, he stubbornly endured the feeling of his head exploding and roughly replicated a city. But the residents inside had vacant stares and stiff movents, like puppets on strings.

Completely useless, in any case.

"I rember back then, my head was also feeling swollen and full, and I wondered if I could create an external brain to help process the excess data," Samuel said with a smile. "But my initial idea was to make it into a phone."

"Alright, enough about that," he said, curling the fingers of the hand holding the Travel Guide and tapping the cover. "Have you finished organizing the data?"

Almost the mont his words fell, the *Lunatic's World Travel Guide* in his palm responded.

"Organized."

Then the text faded, and the previously vacant section of the map was refilled. It returned to being a clear, complete, static map detailing the major districts of Reins.

However, compared to the beginning, the map now had four red circles and a few small annotations next to them.

Still text smaller than an ant's leg, but Samuel could still see it clearly.

The first circle fell in the East District, accurately encircling an empty plot of land within the slums, near the sewage river. What was circled was a tree that looked sowhat twisted in the drawing. Samuel could guess what that was.

The second circle was a small house in the Dock District. Located in the narrow gaps between the Dock District's complex maze of shipping containers and old residential buildings, judging by the na, it seed to be a tavern.

The third circle was a small area in the South District, located in a relatively quiet residential area of the southern city. The circled area was slightly larger than the first two, covering three adjacent row houses and a small, inconspicuous warehouse behind them.

The last circle encompassed the entire Royal District.

Instantly, Samuel's gaze was drawn to the largest circle.

The entire Odius Royal District.

This was the largest of the four circles, but also the part with the least amount of annotation information.

The note beside it read:

【Clearly, this is the boss zone, and currently the only area I cannot see. I don't know what's inside, nor what will happen if you enter. Precisely because of this, I feel that going to take a look wouldn't be a loss.】

【Proceed to the Odius Royal District to unlock the "Unknown Plotline."】

Under Samuel's clothing near his right ribcage, his skin wriggled slightly, growing a third hand that scratched his stomach. "Area boss, huh? Interesting."

This was currently the only area that couldn't be spied upon, the region shrouding the highest authority over this city, even this kingdom.

The unknown sotis piqued curiosity more than clear danger.

To be honest, he was also quite curious about what was inside the Royal District.

He'd keep this as a backup option. If the other three points weren't interesting, he'd try digging a tunnel into the Royal District to take a look.

But since this was Celt's main quest after all, he'd leave it as the last choice.

Then, he looked at the East District, at the circled tree.

Clearly, that was him.

It was his first disconnected clone, the one without a na.

【There have been a lot of strange occurrences today. The strange Law phenonon that suddenly appeared this morning, the reports of a weird tree appearing in the East District, the Law phenonon appearing again at noon... all these anomalies have caught the attention of the City Security Bureau.】

【They've decided to investigate the bizarre tree that abruptly appeared in the slums first. After all, there aren't many leads on the other incidents currently, but investigating that strange tree might help them research the other two events.】

【Go to the East District and wait. You might unlock the "Security Bureau Plotline."】

"Oh, it seems the issue of my first clone not having a na will be resolved soon," Samuel said, retracting the third hand, the corners of his mouth involuntarily curling up a bit more. "At least I'll get a serial number at the Security Bureau."

His eyes shifted, looking at the circle in the Dock District.

【Today at 2 PM, there is a secret gathering in the black market area of the Dock District. Well, just like in many stories, the auction the protagonist inevitably attends after crossing into another world. Though it might differ from the opulence you imagine, since this is a secret underground gathering.】

【Well, it's a *truly* underground gathering. Their location is even underground. This ti, the races participating seem to not be limited to just humans. Perhaps you can find this world's unique non-human species there.】

【This is a secret gathering held regularly every Tuesday. It's hard to say whether the Security Bureau tacitly allows it or not.】

【Proceed to the Dock District to unlock the "Non-Human Species Plotline."】

Non-human races, black market auctions, secret gatherings...

These words combined almost instantly ignited Samuel's excessively abundant curiosity.

"That seems really good..."

Finally, he looked at the small area in the South District.

【In a Western fantasy world, "cults" are also an essential part of the experience.】

【This is probably a secret cult hideout.】

【Speaking of which, is this really secret? I don't know. A hideout I scanned out for you in a few minutes doesn't feel all that secret to .】

【I'd say it's more strange that this thing can hide in the capital without being discovered. Unless... well, maybe the Royal Family simply doesn't consider "outside the Odius District" as part of the capital's proper area.】

【Hiss... wouldn't that make those Reins citizens who discriminate against outsiders a joke?】

【Proceed to the South District to unlock the "Cult Plotline."】

His gaze shifted back and forth between the four options. Samuel finally focused his eyes on the "Non-Human Species Plotline."

The Royal City wasn't going anywhere, no big deal. He could go check it out in a couple of days.

The cult hideout was similar; it probably wouldn't relocate within a day or two.

The only things that made him slightly conflicted were the Security Bureau and the secret gathering.

He was a bit curious about this world's official forces...

Although the Security Bureau's database seed utterly pathetic with the Travel Guide going in and out of it all the ti, they probably still had so redeeming qualities.

But...

His gaze remained fixed on "non-human races."

They're non-humans, they're different species.

They're possibly living, breathing, civilized, Law-wielding different species with wings, scales, tentacles, or forms completely incomprehensible by human aesthetics!

The Security Bureau wasn't going anywhere; that tree was right there. He could go "turn himself in" anyti. But the black market gathering that only happens once a week—miss it, and you wait another seven days.

Seven days. For Samuel, that felt like an eternity.

"So curious..." Samuel murmured to himself. "I hope the other side quests don't suddenly get cut off..."

No longer hesitating, his hand holding the umbrella handle adjusted its angle slightly, and his body turned accordingly, now facing the direction of the Dock District.

"Navigate. I want to see what the non-humans of this world look like."

Following his command, on the Travel Guide's page, the local map of the Dock District lit up faintly. A clear, shimring dotted path extended from Samuel's current location, winding through several streets and alleys, finally pointing to the small house marked by the red circle.

Simultaneously, a new line of small text appeared beside the path:

"Planning your route. Destination: 'Old Fishbone Tavern'. Planning the shortcut. Total distance approx. 21 km. Estimated walking ti: 1 second. Please tie your shoelaces. Scoundrel Maps is continuously navigating for you."

The originally winding path instantly straightened.

Having roughly morized the location, Samuel snapped the book in his hand shut with a *clap* and lifted his right leg.

The mont the sound of the book closing rang out, from his perspective, the falling raindrops froze in an instant. They stopped falling, stopped moving. The previously overwhelming, roaring sound of rain in his ears also vanished instantly.

Samuel seed to pay no mind to any of this. He adjusted his angle slightly, as if just casually preparing to take a step.

Then the raised right leg stepped forward diagonally.

Those raindrops changed their falling direction in the sa instant, "falling" diagonally backward relative to Samuel.

The buildings in front also suddenly expanded and distorted like images in a funhouse mirror, twisting open to the sides in a strange manner, clearing a path for Samuel.

It wasn't the walls moving, but space itself "moving around" him, opening up a "shortcut" that theoretically shouldn't exist but did exist at this mont.

Simultaneously, the relatively smooth cobblestone road of Andrew Street beneath his feet rapidly elongated and retreated, transforming from paving stones into dirt in less than half a second, then quickly becoming a dilapidated, creaking wooden staircase.

"Tap."

The boot-clad right foot landed steadily on solid ground, on the top step of that rickety wooden staircase.

The mont the boot touched down, the rain and the distortions returned to normal.

The rain fell straight down, without deflection. The houses weren't twisted; they were just the most common, sea-slling shacks of the Dock District.

And the previously standing, relatively neat brick wall in front of Samuel had transford into a half-open, half-closed, worn wooden door. A similarly shabby wooden sign hung crookedly on it, with a few words carved in ssy handwriting.

"Old Fishbone Tavern."

Above was a makeshift canopy of tattered tarpaulin and a few crooked wooden poles, full of holes, completely incapable of blocking the rain. Dripping leaks ford small puddles all around.

Sniffling his nose, Samuel casually made the umbrella in his hand disappear and pushed the door open.

Behind him, the rain began to lessen, gradually ceasing.

This bout of heavy rain ca fast and left just as quickly.

For a coastal city, this probably wasn't sothing too noteworthy.