Why did he say "again"?
Because back when he first transmigrated into this world, he had watched a bullet hole in his temple rapidly close while staring into a mirror.
At the ti, he assud it was so kind of "special treatnt" for transmigrators. But now…maybe that wasn't the case. There had to be so kind of secret hidden behind his two resurrections.
Just then, a wave of dizziness struck Klein, and along with it ca a new surge of mories—fragnts of when he briefly awoke above the grey fog and glimpsed the prayers from mbers of the Tarot Club.
And, right before that—just before he regained consciousness—he vaguely rembered seeing a figure above the grey fog. More precisely, it seed that the intrusion of that figure was what triggered his sudden awakening.
Unfortunately, it had all happened too fast. He hadn't gotten a clear look at who the figure was. But based on the intel currently available, only one person ca to mind—soone who had once tried to seize control of the grey fog:
The mysterious individual who had been entwined with Little Sun—who later attacked him at Minsk No. 15.
No wonder the ancients said, "A man's wealth is his cri." Now, Klein finally understood the full aning of that phrase.
Sighing, he started to look around and get his bearings. "Wait…where am I?"
As he looked up, his eyes suddenly landed on a woman—no, sothing—standing just a few ters away.
She wore a long, elaborate black gown that was both luxurious and sombre. Her figure was full and graceful…
But there was no head above her shoulders.
Just a smooth, clean-cut neck stump.
"!!!"
Klein's heart clenched in shock. He scrambled backwards on all fours, hands and feet flailing. "W-Who are you?!"
Please don't tell I've run into so kind of ghost or ghoul…
"Y-You…a-wake…?"
A slow, halting voice drifted through the air.
Klein looked down and saw that the "lady" was holding four identical heads in her arms.
Honestly, the heads were all quite striking—beautiful, even. The kind of beauty rarely seen.
But no matter how stunning a head was, if it was being carried around in soone's hands, it kind of lost its charm.
Still, the good news was: this strange being could speak.
Klein cald himself quickly and asked politely, "Ma'am…may I ask where I am? And how did I get here?"
The four heads in her arms spoke in turn, each completing a part of the sentence:
"This...is the spirit world...You fell...from above...and landed...in my castle...At the ti...you were already...dead...but I...sensed...that you weren't...entirely dead...so I...brought you...inside…"
Her voice was fragnted and eerie, but Klein pieced it together.
So, after Ince's sneak attack had killed him, he had plunged straight into the spirit world. And if no one had intervened, he would've remained lost here indefinitely.
He instinctively looked up, but all he saw was the stone ceiling of the castle. Turning his head, he found the thick, swirling brushstrokes of the spirit world's sky leaking in through a high window—just as depicted in The Book of Secrets.
So this woman...or creature...is a native of the spirit world?
That would explain a lot. According to The Book of Secrets, spirit world entities ca in all kinds of bizarre shapes and forms. There was no point trying to apply human standards to them.
And if what she said was true, then he owed her his life.
Klein stood up and bowed sincerely. "Thank you for saving , ma'am."
"No need...You just...happened...to fall...into my castle…"
Her four heads stared at him with glowing red eyes. "If you...really want...to thank ...give ...a gold coin…"
A gold coin?
Wait, spirit world creatures liked gold? Did they even use currency here?
Though puzzled, Klein didn't hesitate. He fished out a gold coin from his pocket and handed it over. "May I ask your na, madam?"
One of the heads gently bit down on the coin, while the other three replied in unison:
"Rein…ette...Tine...kerr…"
"Thank you again, Miss Tinekerr."
Klein gave her another earnest bow. Then sothing struck him, and he asked hurriedly, "By the way—how long have I been...unconscious?"
"In terms...of the outside world's ti...about...two days…"
Two days?!
Klein pulled out his pocket watch to double-check. That ant it was now Monday afternoon?
The good news: he hadn't missed the weekly Tarot Club gathering.
The bad news: The Fool had not responded to any prayers in two whole days.
Suddenly, the four heads spoke again, almost in harmony, "Do you...need...a ssenger…?"
"A ssenger?"
Klein was taken aback. He imdiately thought of Mr. Azik's skeletal courier—and Edward's giant bird-like ssenger. Both could deliver letters, and even step in during ergencies.
A good ssenger was, without a doubt, an enormous asset to any Beyonder.
But this offer...felt off.
As the saying goes, free things are often the most expensive. And anyone who approached you first was always trying to get sothing in return.
What was she after?
Instinctively, Klein's mind went to the grey fog.
Still...Reinette Tinekerr had done nothing but show kindness so far. If he refused too directly and offended her, wouldn't that be a huge risk?
He was still hesitating when she added gently, "Forget it...You can...find again...if you...ever need one...I'm not...in a hurry…"
"…Thank you for your understanding, Miss Tinekerr."
Klein scratched his head awkwardly. "I guess...after a near-death experience, my mind's a bit scrambled…"
After a brief pause, he seized the opportunity to ask, "By the way, just now you said that when I fell, I was already dead—but not completely dead. What exactly does that an?"
Reinette Tinekerr's body floated back a few ters like a drifting spectre as she answered slowly, "For...Beyonders...this isn't...uncommon...Physical death...doesn't always an...true death...So pathways...grant their Beyonders...the ability...to return...from death…"
Her reply stunned Klein.
Wait—so coming back from the dead is just a regular Tuesday for Beyonders?! That was far beyond what he had expected.
"But your case...is sowhat...unusual...Because your current Sequence...does not grant...any resurrection abilities…"
As she said this, she suddenly floated closer, her four heads circling around Klein like an eerie halo.
"Why do you think...that is?"
With four pairs of crimson eyes locked on him, Klein's hair stood on end. He hurriedly replied, "I...I have no idea!"
"…"
After a few monts of silence, Reinette floated back again.
"You're fine...now...You can leave...whenever you want…"
Klein jumped off the stone bed and walked over to the window. He leaned out and gazed up at what passed for a sky in the Spirit World—a swirling, chaotic firmant filled with seven brilliant beams of light, each casting a dazzling kaleidoscope across the world below.
In the distance, spirit world creatures of all shapes and sizes darted across the landscape, vanishing and reappearing in irregular intervals. He realised he was standing in the tallest part of a massive stone castle, with a panoramic view of the otherworldly land around him.
So this is...the Spirit World…
After a long mont of silence, Klein pulled himself back inside and turned to Reinette.
"Um...how exactly do I leave the Spirit World?"
He had traversed it a few tis before, yes—but always with soone else, like a ssenger or Azik, guiding him.
"I can...send you...back."
Reinette's translucent body phased through the castle wall and floated out into the open air.
"Do you...want to leave...now?"
"If you'd be so kind!"
After all, he still had a mountain of unanswered prayers waiting for him above the grey fog. The next Tarot Club eting was only a few hours away, and there was no way he could just slip into the grey fog in front of her...or ask if her castle had a washroom, either.
Naturally, Reinette had no idea about Klein's internal dilemma. She simply reached out and grabbed him. With a step back, the world around them exploded into a blur of shifting, intense colours. The hues blurred together, retreating rapidly like brushstrokes on a canvas.
Seconds later, the color all drained away.
They had left the Spirit World and returned to the physical world.
"See...you...later…"
As soon as Klein regained his balance, Reinette Tinekerr tore open the air and phased back into the Spirit World without a trace.
"Thank you, ma'am."
His words vanished into the breeze, answered only by birdsong and the rustling of autumn leaves.
Klein looked around. "This place is…"
He quickly surveyed his surroundings and realised he was back near the familiar wooded outskirts of Green Cetery.
"Whew—there's no way I can return to 15 Minsk Street now. I'll have to find so nearby inn…"
He sighed.
Damn...I didn't even pack my things. There's still a bunch of cash under the bed too…
That's money I risked my life for—penny by penny!
Klein felt a sharp twinge in his heart.
Thankfully, most of his savings—and the materials for his advancent ritual—had already been sacrificed to the grey fog. Otherwise, this resurrection would've co with a personal bankruptcy declaration.
Speaking of which...the investigation into maid Cynthia must've wrapped up by now. Can I still collect that 1,000 Pounds reward from Prince Edessak?
Then again...I did uncover so of the royal family's dirty laundry. If I showed up asking for money now, I'd probably die a second death.
He sighed again.
Forget it. Just think of all this chaos as sothing I did for those innocent victims who were kidnapped and trafficked.
As these thoughts swirled in his head, he arrived at Green Cetery.
Strangely, the typically deserted cetery was now bustling with people. So stood in silence before newly erected gravestones, others sobbed quietly, a few sat blankly on the ground, and so were participating in burial ceremonies led by priests.
One corner of the cetery now housed a temporary building filled with rows upon rows of shelves, each holding a neat urn—each urn a life lost, each na a tragedy.
Klein froze.
He realised what this ant.
These must have been the victims of the deadly mist two days ago—the toxic fog created by the supernatural abilities of a high-Sequence Witch.
He clenched his fists tightly.
That Witch had done all this...just to digest a potion!
In the eyes of so, human lives were utterly worthless.
Just then, a gust of wind swept across the cetery, rustling a newspaper left on the ground near a fresh grave. The paper flapped noisily, catching Klein's attention.
He glanced at it—and saw, faintly, the words "The Great Smog of Backlund."
He stepped forward quickly and picked it up.
It was yesterday's newspaper.
The front page headline read:
"Preliminary reports estimate that over 3,000 people perished directly in the great smog incident, while subsequent plagues caused by the spread of the toxins have since claid close to 20,000 more lives—including many children and healthy young adults…"1
"Prince Edessak and Princess Helena, identified as the masterminds behind the event, killed the officials who attempted to apprehend them and fled. They remain at large. The King, enraged, has issued a national order for their arrest—dead or alive!"
"A national day of mourning will be held three days from now. Services will be conducted in cathedrals across the kingdom. Citizens are encouraged to attend in solemn rembrance."
Prince Edessak...was the ringleader?!
That's...impossible!
———
[Note]: Don't forget to VOTE. It keeps motivated.
(Author's note: The ongoing 'plague' may have been fabricated to cover up deaths tied to the construction of the royal mausoleum.)
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