Klein's first instinct was not fear.
It was embarrassment.
'Could he be the owner of the grey fog'
The thought struck him with startling clarity; Had he just staged a performance as the master of this mysterious domain… in front of its true owner?
The idea made his scalp prickle.
The grey fog stretched endlessly in all directions, silent and indifferent, as if it had existed long before him and would remain long after. The ancient palace that had once stood beneath the vast dome was gone, dissolved like a mirage after dawn. Only the boundless mist remained.
And within it stood that figure.
Layers of grey fog coiled around the man like drifting veils, thicker and more inscrutable than those surrounding Justice or The Hanged Man. His silhouette was indistinct, yet not vague. Concealed, yet present.
Most unsettling of all…
Klein could see his smile. A calm, amused smile.
It was not mocking. Nor hostile.
But it was the kind of smile worn by someone who had watched a play from the audience… and enjoyed it thoroughly.
Klein maintained his composure with considerable effort. His mind raced beneath the calm surface he had painstakingly cultivated.
'Could he truly be the real master of the grey fog…'
'And I just… pretended to own his house.'
'No forget that, the ritual pointed at the grey fog, and if he was its owner, he should know how I got here, or he I could go back.'
Before Klein could speak, the man tilted his head slightly, as though examining him from behind layers of invisible curtains.
"You performed quite well," he said lightly, amusement threading through his voice. "Especially the part where you remained silent while knowing absolutely nothing, and poor Hangedman had the personality to match."
Klein's expression did not change, but inwardly he coughed blood.
So he saw everything.
The mysterious figure let out a faint chuckle.
"No need to look so tense, Mr. Fool. If I were the owner of this place, your earlier theatrics would have ended far less peacefully."
Klein's heart skipped.
"…You are not?" he asked, the dignified tone of a hidden existence had long since melted into the grey fog.
He was relieved, but also partially disappointed.
The man's smile deepened.
"No. That would be…" He paused deliberately, as if savoring the suspense. "…you. Right?"
The answer raised more questions than answers.
How could he be the owner, he just got here, he's a trespasser.
Klein's thoughts churned rapidly. If this person was not the master of the grey fog, then what exactly was his relationship to it? A prior occupier? A trespasser like himself? Or something else entirely?
The man glanced around leisurely at the boundless mist.
"Regardless," he continued, "a host should treat his guest properly. Don't you think?"
Host.
The word echoed in Klein's mind.
Tentatively, cautiously, Klein extended his will. The grey fog responded instantly, obedient as ever. A small round table emerged from the mist, simple yet dignified, accompanied by two high-backed chairs facing each other.
Klein noticed that the strain did not return.
The spiritual exhaustion that had nearly split his head earlier was gone, as though gently lifted away.
So the pressure had not come from controlling the fog itself… but from sustaining the projections of Justice and The Hanged Man.
He noted the theory, with plans of further tests.
He also noticed that he still had authority here.
Or at least… partial authority.
The man seated himself without hesitation.
Klein followed suit, adopting the composed bearing of The Fool once more.
"If you are not the master of this place," Klein began carefully, "then what do you know of it? How did we get here?"
"I don't know much," the man replied frankly. "Only that its power far exceeds what you currently understand. And that it's really cool."
His gaze drifted through the mist, thoughtful.
"As for this world… you have already heard fragments. It is relatively the same as your world, besides beyonder powers, and the various secret organizations moving in the shadows. But you should know, you just founded one yourself, Mr Fool."
He spoke without elaboration, merely echoing what Justice and The Hanged Man had discussed earlier, as if confirming rather than teaching.
Klein narrowed his eyes slightly.
"Are you… also a transmigrator?"
The question slipped out more directly than intended.
The man's fingers paused lightly against the table's surface.
He said after a brief silence, "Actually I am. Or... was."
He did not explain further.
The ambiguity hung heavier than any detailed answer could have.
Klein filed the response away immediately.
Mental note: extremely suspicious.
The man rose slowly from his seat.
The surrounding fog stirred as if acknowledging the motion.
"So, as a fellow transmigrator," he said, his tone softening just slightly, "let me offer you a piece of advice."
Klein listened intently.
"As I see it, things will become very interesting for you in this world." His voice carried a faint undercurrent of certainty. "I believe you will do well. Better than most, actually."
He glanced at the grey fog beneath them.
"This place will most likely become your greatest ally."
Then his eyes returned to Klein.
"But it can also become your greatest enemy. Be careful of what slumbers within."
A subtle chill passed through the mist.
Klein felt it too.
"As for your performance earlier," the man continued with a hint of teasing warmth, "projecting omniscience is not a poor strategy. However, this world harbors many entities who truly stand near the divine as this world understands it."
His gaze sharpened ever so slightly.
"Their authorities stem from the pathways as you may have guessed. Each pathway governs fragments of reality itself."
He gestured lightly toward the endless fog.
"This place is filled with knowledge, yes. But I do not sense omniscience here."
Then his smile returned, calm and knowing.
"We should have more opportunities in the future to polish the Fool persona, you see, I'm something of an author myself; If you're interested of course"
He looked around once more, as if appreciating a masterpiece half-completed.
"This place is full of miracles"
His figure began to fade, dissolving into specks of grey dust.
"You just need to invoke them."
The last thing Klein saw was that faint smile.
"Until we meet again…"
A brief pause.
"…Zhou Mingrui."
The name struck like a silent thunderclap.
Then, the fog settled, erasing every speck of dust.
Only silence remained.