"Huff…"
Klein ca back to his senses in the bathroom of his new ho, clutching his head as a sharp headache pulsed through it.
Suddenly, he was burdened with too many clues, yet all the information he had gathered was scattered and fragnted. For the first ti, Klein felt that the Joker deserved a beating. And for the first ti, he truly had the urge to punch him in the face.
But the problem was—he couldn't beat him.
The status of Sefirah Castle was already exceptionally high, but that man also held control over it—and even more than he did.
Not to ntion Sefirah Castle itself. Even in terms of raw strength, Klein knew he was completely outmatched.
He was just a counterfeit Fool, whereas the other person was likely a True God, maybe even an existence beyond one. That mocking tone he used when speaking to Klein ca from clearly seeing through everything and deliberately pointing it out.
Yet, despite knowing the truth about Klein, that man still chose to cooperate and even joined in this "performance." That alone proved one thing—he was exactly the kind of being who enjoyed putting on a show.
The cooperation wasn't ant to support Klein. It was likely because he found it entertaining to watch him play the role of a flamboyant actor on stage.
But Klein knew very well—he had no other choice.
Just like that man said, at this mont, Klein had no alternatives.
And if he wanted to investigate the truth behind his transmigration, he would need a certain level of power. Without it, he could only live out a mundane life—working, earning wages, and fading into the background.
Unfortunately, he wasn't soone who could give up on the truth. He wanted to uncover the secret of his transmigration and find a way back ho. That ant the ordinary path would never be an option for him.
Besides, would the person behind the scenes who orchestrated everything really allow him to live a peaceful, uneventful life?
Klein had already made his decision.
The one pulling the strings will never stop pushing forward…
He sighed and hunched over on the toilet, resting his elbow on his knee.
At that mont, he truly wanted to let go of everything. He wanted to give up investigating and just live a simple life post-transmigration.
But then he thought about Benson and lissa. He was afraid they would one day beco collateral damage because of his choice.
Taking a deep breath, Klein tried to settle his thoughts. He didn't know exactly what he needed to do, but he could at least try to piece together what he'd learned.
So now, I know that the identity I fabricated—the Fool—is actually the Sequence 0 of the Seer Pathway.
The impression he had of the Fool, and his sudden decision to use that na, had rely been based on feelings and scattered inspirations from his life.
But now it was clear—those "feelings" had been planted.
That conclusion had been deliberately made known to him by soone behind the scenes.
At this stage, that inference was no doubt accurate. In fact, it was very likely the correct truth.
aning, the person behind the scenes was intentionally pushing him toward the identity of the Fool. And based on how far he had co, they had done it very successfully.
The identity of this mysterious "promoter" intrigued Klein more than anything. But the current clues were too limited. All he could do was speculate—no firm conclusions could be drawn yet.
And then there was the matter of being told he would need to fight a god… One whom he had already lost to once.
So, who is this "He"?
Klein felt that this was the most critical question right now. If he could figure this out, he would know who the enemy was. But the clues were just too few.
Wait… That man seed to have hinted at it.
Klein tried hard to recall everything that had been said during the gathering—the phrasing, the nas, the tone.
Suddenly, sothing clicked.
He had referred to the Evernight Goddess as the Sequence 0 of the Sleepless Pathway. But for one particular being, he had used the word He—capitalized, singular, reverent.
That was the clue. It was deliberate.
The language he used wasn't a language he was familiar with, nor was it any native language of this world. It was a special form of communication—directly planting aning into their minds. So, he couldn't have made a linguistic error or misleading phrasing by accident.
He had done it on purpose.
That single word—He—was the hint. In fact, it was practically a direct statent.
A thread snapped into place in Klein's mind. All the clues he had felt floating around before suddenly connected, and he ca to a rather horrifying conclusion.
So, he ant that my enemy is on the sa level as him…?
That thought made Klein's brain feel like it was overheating.
Why?! Why would a newly advanced Sequence 9 Seer like be involved in sothing so huge?
How can my enemy be an existence above even a god?
The mont that realization hit, Klein felt like his hair was about to fall out.
He was just a rookie Beyonder, and now he had to prepare for an enemy who might be above even the True Gods?
Klein shook his head violently, trying to maintain clarity and composure.
Thankfully, this wasn't sothing he had to deal with right now. The more pressing issue was Sefirah Castle.
Yes, Klein had realized that the Sefirah Castle he held was likely a trap—and it would certainly draw the greed of an Angel King.
To take a step beyond True God, one needed to control Sefirah Castle. And if an Angel King got wind of his possession, he'd be targeted imdiately.
From that perspective, he really had no margin for error.
Faced with such a terrifying threat, the only path forward was to stay completely hidden in the shadows and avoid exposure. Otherwise, he wouldn't even get the chance to resist.
Luckily, he had concealed the aura of Sefirah Castle. There shouldn't be any imdiate danger. But he still needed to digest the potion quickly and prepare for his next promotion.
Klein took another deep breath, doing his best to stabilize his emotions.
There were still many unknowns ahead. Not everything was dood. There was still a path forward—it wasn't a dead end.
But Klein also understood that the key to breaking the current deadlock might lie in the mysterious man who had broken into the gathering.
And when he rembered that man's personality… Klein felt his stomach churn painfully.
Why? Why do powerful people always act so weird?
They collect lives. They watch others struggle. They enjoy altering fate... Are these really the hobbies of gods? Or just of people who like to cause trouble?
Should I really ask that guy for help?
Klein stared blankly, feeling like the future was dark and endless.
(To be continued.)
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