Mr. Fool's calm gaze swept across each member of the Tarot Club. They were all waiting for what he would say next.
"You've already heard of one, Adam of the Twilight Hermit Order. He is also a King of Angels. Mm, he is Amon's brother, a child of a god."
Mr. Fool spoke these stirring words in a steady tone.
Since a god's child was a King of Angels, and Amon was one of them, the Angel of Time, there was no reason Adam, also a god's child, would not be one.
If Amon was the Angel of Time, then Adam of the Spectator pathway could likely be called the Angel of Imagination, since Sequence 0 of that pathway is the Visionary.
Amid the shocked gazes of the Tarot Club members, Mr. Fool dropped another bombshell.
"Kings of Angels are very close to the divine throne. After the fall of the Ancient Sun God, new gods were born."
This was not something Klein made up, it was a very reasonable deduction.
From the status of Kings of Angels, they were only one step away from godhood. So after the fall of the Ancient Sun God, among the eight Kings of Angels, there must have been those who ascended to become gods.
Judging from their titles, Angel of Time, Angel of Fate, Angel of Imagination, there might also be Angels of Wisdom, Red Angels, Angels of Strength, Angels of Light, Angels of Darkness, and so on.
Among the current seven orthodox gods, aside from the God of Steam and Machinery, who likely was not one of the Ancient Sun God's angels, the others all fit his speculation.
For example, the Eternal Blazing Sun could be the Angel of Light, and the God of Knowledge and Wisdom might be the Angel of Wisdom.
Most importantly, his statement wasn't too explicit.
And no one could find fault with it. After all, after the fall of the Ancient Sun God, didn't seven new orthodox gods appear?
It was an accurate statement, and one with enough gravitas to satisfy the Tarot Club.
Seated at the head of the long bronze table, Mr. Fool maintained a faint smile, looking down from above at the varied expressions on their faces.
In their view, the reason he hadn't explained everything clearly was because these matters involved the gods, telling them outright would bring harm, not benefit.
They might even think that Mr. Fool was very considerate, carefully choosing his words to accommodate low-sequence Beyonders like them.
This hurdle was successfully passed. Mr. Fool was satisfied, and naturally, so was Klein.
During the following exchanges and transactions, the Tarot Club members were more cautious and restrained than usual. After all, they had just heard secrets concerning gods.
Except for a certain carefree vampire and the pure and kind Little Sun, everyone else felt a heavy weight in their hearts, the weight of hidden history.
After the Tarot Club gathering ended, Klein finally let out a sigh of relief. Constantly having to find the right words to bluff them was no easy task.
Fortunately, he had now accumulated plenty of experience in playing the role of Mr. Fool.
After resting for a while above the gray fog, Klein left, washed his hands and face, dried himself, and slowly walked out of the bathroom.
When members of the Nighthawks joked about how long he had stayed inside, Klein simply gave a wry smile and rubbed his stomach. It was an easy way to brush it off, and even earned him some concern.
Being able to go to the bathroom anytime while still getting paid was, in Klein's opinion, a very comfortable workplace perk.
At six in the evening, Klein returned home and began preparing dinner.
Benson, who had been staying home waiting for exam results and recently had plenty of free time, volunteered to take over cooking, but was ruthlessly rejected by both Klein and Melissa.
As for the reason… the moonlight tonight was quite nice.
After finishing in the kitchen and having dinner, Benson took the initiative to handle the dishes. This time, no one fought him for it.
Klein adjusted himself into a comfortable position, lying sideways on the sofa, half-closing his eyes as he watched Melissa carefully tinkering with her instruments under the light, occasionally glancing at Benson in the kitchen to make sure he didn't mess anything up.
This kind of life was plain, but also beautiful.
He had always believed this was the life he longed for. That was why, when Count Hastur Campbell asked him that question before leaving Backlund, he gave that answer.
But now that he was truly living such a peaceful life, he felt something was missing.
Since arriving in this world, he had constantly faced problems, events that threatened his life, pushing him to keep improving and venture deeper into the Beyonder world.
After coming to Backlund, everything suddenly became calm. There were no longer so many incidents each day. Life passed steadily, and he could live with his family. Even Ince Zangwill, who had once brought disaster to Tingen, was already dead.
Life was steadily moving in the direction he had hoped for. Yet the joy on his face grew less and less. Perhaps things easily obtained were not easily cherished.
In recent nights, he often dreamed of leaving Backlund alone to go on adventures elsewhere.
For example, battling wits with pirates at sea in search of legendary treasures, helping the City of Silver escape the Forsaken Land of the Gods, or seeking a way to return to his homeland.
"Klein, you look like you've got something on your mind. Is it work-related?" Benson, having finished the dishes, sat across from him on a chair, looking concerned.
Klein smiled. "I was just thinking about something. You know, even in Backlund, plenty of people don't like to use their brains, so people like us have to work ours even harder."
Benson laughed. "Exactly. Most of them can't even think better than a curly-haired baboon."
Klein shook his head and said seriously, "Scientists have shown that curly-haired baboons are an intelligent species. But there's no proof that every human brain functions properly."
"Hahaha…" Benson froze for a moment, then exchanged a glance with Klein, and the two burst into laughter.
Their laughter made Melissa's hand tremble as she worked on her delicate instruments, ruining her earlier effort. She pouted in dissatisfaction, then smiled faintly as well.
The next day, while out on official business, Klein made a detour to the Roselle Memorial Exhibition, hoping to try his luck.
Unfortunately, luck wasn't on his side. He carefully checked the bookmarks in every book, but none matched Roselle's description.
In the end, he left regretfully, thinking that perhaps the bookmark Roselle had hidden was no longer there, lost over time.
Another possibility was that the Blasphemy Card had already been taken, with the Church of Steam being the most likely suspect.
Otherwise, they wouldn't allow ordinary people to come and go freely, casually examining Roselle's relics.
After visiting the exhibition, Klein went to St. Samuel Cathedral.
Recently, Leonard was preparing to leave Backlund for an assignment. This was typical work for the Red Gloves.
Their mission this time was to investigate the abnormalities surrounding Ince Zangwill and secretly recover the lost Sealed Artifact 008.
Having had multiple encounters with Ince Zangwill, Leonard was naturally selected for the task.
Sitting on a long stone bench outside the cathedral, Leonard fed pigeons from his palm while saying, "Sometimes I really envy your job, you get to stay in Backlund peacefully."
Klein grabbed a handful of feed from his palm and scattered it leisurely. "I wouldn't mind swapping with you. I could use a change of scenery."
"That won't do. I've been looking forward to a chance to leave Backlund."
"Oh? Something sad happened to you here?"
Leonard paused, his tone turning slightly unnatural. "I just prefer freedom. Staying in one place all the time isn't my style."
"You stayed in Tingen for quite a while, didn't you?"
"…" Leonard tossed the rest of the feed away, clapped his hands, and stood up. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Wish me luck."
"Luck is always with you, my friend."
"You take care too."
After Leonard left, Klein realized he had subtly steered the conversation away earlier.
Looks like quite a few things happened to him in Backlund.
…
At dawn, Leonard and his teammates boarded the same steam train that Ince Zangwill had taken when he suddenly returned to Backlund.
Leonard sat in Zangwill's former seat with the leader of the Red Gloves team, Ms. Ilya, codenamed "Eye of the Goddess," hoping to gain some inspiration.
Radiating the charm of a mature woman, Ilya asked, "You've dealt with Ince Zangwill many times. Under what circumstances do you think he would suddenly choose to return to Backlund?"
Leonard replied solemnly, "He's a patient schemer. After escaping Backlund, only madness, stupidity, or a complete loss of reason would make him return."
Facing this "Eye of the Goddess," who had recently returned early from the Southern Continent, Leonard felt somewhat nervous. It was said her eyes could see through people's hearts, he instinctively feared women like that.
"Isn't it possible he had a reason he couldn't avoid?"
"From what I know of him, he'd rather give up certain things than risk his safety. He's not the type to take risks. And with 008 in his possession, he preferred using coincidence and chance to achieve his goals, rather than personally stepping into the script."
On this matter, Leonard firmly believed it was no coincidence.
It was fate arranged for Ince Zangwill.
Someone who excelled at weaving scripts and controlling others' fates ultimately died within a fate arranged by someone else, it was only fitting.
Ms. Ilya nodded, agreeing with Leonard's assessment.
Afterward, they had examined Zangwill's body and discovered that his mind had suffered serious abnormalities. His return to Backlund at that time seemed more like he had been guided by something.
After discussion, they concluded that the new owner of Sealed Artifact 008 was highly suspicious in this matter.