Chapter 1 – What Do You Mean, I Transmigrated into an Amon Clone?
"If today were the last day of your life, what would you do?"
…Pain!
It hurts!
My head!
It's the same agony Klein felt in Chapter 1 of Lord of the Mysteries when a bullet tore through his temple!
Sunlight filtered gently through the villa's windows into a study decorated in unmistakably Loen style. Behind the desk, a figure pressed a hand to his forehead, sweat streaming down.
A second figure stood before the desk, draped in a black robe, showing no surprise at the seated man's distress. He simply waited in silence until the other slowly lifted his head, then spoke:
"We've discussed this many times, Mr. L. Even if today were my last, I would devote my final breath to praising the glory of the Lord."
The one addressed as "Mr. L" fell silent for a moment, then gave a slight nod.
"…You're right, Mr. Z. I, too, hear the Lord again—perhaps very soon I'll be summoned to His side."
A flicker of vigilance and scrutiny crossed Mr. Z's eyes. He studied "Mr. L" for several breaths before speaking slowly:
"Lightning or rain, all is the Lord's will. Mr. L, I must verify the status of His descent."
As he said it, Mr. Z turned away, his voice carrying both counsel and warning:
"—I trust you will not forsake the Lord's radiance."
"I understand. Thank you for your trouble."
Mr. L watched Mr. Z leave. Only after confirming that the mid-Sequence Beyonder of the Secrets Supplicant Path had departed beyond even a Listener's hearing did he exhale in relief.
"Finally shook off that fanatic!"
"Just now, I had that dream again—the one filled with Gray Fog…"
"Ever since I transmigrated into this world, every time I sleep I see that gray mist, that vision of Sefirah Castle… and it always ends with a splitting headache."
Ning Lu—known here as "Mr. L"—leaned back in his chair, replaying everything that had happened.
"When I arrived in the world of Lord of the Mysteries and realized I hadn't died from the knowledge in my head, I knew something was off about my transmigration."
"But isn't this a bit too off?"
As he spoke, Ning Lu raised his eyes to the mirror across the desk. Reflected there was a disturbingly familiar face.
Black curls, dark eyes, broad forehead, thin cheeks.
At the mirror's edge, on the desk, lay a monocle carved from crystal.
Any fan of Lord of the Mysteries would instantly recognize the original owner of that face, yet even two days later Ning Lu still sounded amazed.
"I actually transmigrated into one of Amon's clones…"
"And on the back of my hand there's a countdown made of gray mist, ticking away…"
"Thankfully I didn't inherit Amon's identity; I don't feel the main body's control over this clone—otherwise this would be a hell-mode start!"
Ning Lu lowered his gaze to the back of his hand. There, gray mist formed steadily shifting numbers counting down.
Six days ago he had awakened inside the novel he used to read, occupying an Amon clone.
Because he had dreamed of the gray-white fog characteristic of Sefirah Castle, he spent that first day trying every method from the original story to contact it, all in vain. Only the countdown on his hand kept decreasing.
[09:17:12]
[09:17:11]
[09:17:10]
Time marched on; in half a day the gray countdown on his hand would reach zero.
Ning Lu had no idea what would happen when the countdown hit zero; returning to his own world would be the best-case scenario, but he knew that was probably impossible.
"Although the ideal outcome in my mind is that the countdown will send me straight back to the real world… well, I already have the answer in my heart—I just don't dare to believe it."
"So for now I still have to play the role of 'Mr. L,' in case something I can't control or predict happens after the countdown ends and the True Creator's fanatics mark me as a blasphemer and kill me on the spot…"
"But to some extent, my current identity can also give me certain advantages. No matter what happens when the countdown on the back of my hand reaches zero, I can't just sit and wait for it."
As he spoke, he suddenly stood up; the face reflected in the mirror looked rather grave.
"...What was that sound?"
At that moment Ning Lu felt a faint ringing in his ears, as though a voice were slowly emerging. It grew louder until it became perfectly clear.
"... venerable blazing black and yellow, Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings."
Ning Lu's pupils shrank slightly. As the voice rang out, a deep-red glow slowly filled his vision, followed by the endless gray mist he had seen in his dreams.
The mist of Sefirah Castle!
Before the gray mist could completely obscure his sight, he managed to control his arm, deftly pulled a pocket watch from his coat, and snapped it open.
The hands pointed straight at three o'clock.
"Three o'clock—the time for the Tarot Club meeting. So the reason my attempts to enter Sefirah Castle have failed lately is because the castle already has a master?"
"So when Klein held this Tarot session, he unconsciously dragged me up as well?"
"I can't quite recall—has Klein become a Beyonder yet, or has he only just become one? Alger's only sequence 7… so am I now the highest-Sequence Beyonder in the Tarot Club?"
"But the body I've taken over is an Amon avatar; will Amon sense the Tarot Club and wipe out the future Major Arcana in one go?"
By now there was nothing Ning Lu could do to shield himself from the risk: he had seized an Amon avatar and involved himself with Sefirah Castle.
Still, he believed that even if Amon realized he had lost an avatar, the god wouldn't be able to locate him for the moment.
After all, as the living incarnation of Uniqueness, Amon would never let anyone tainted by the gray mist go free. The fact that he hadn't come knocking meant either he couldn't find him or didn't even know he existed.
With the protection of Sefirah Castle, the latter was far more likely.
These thoughts flashed through Ning Lu's mind; the next moment, Gray Fog and deep-red starlight filled his eyes, making his heart beat a little faster with excitement.
He could already picture the look on Klein's face when he realized he had accidentally pulled up an extra person.
The mist cleared, and the surroundings turned hazy, as though an indelible fog hung around him.
The instant he entered Sefirah Castle, he excitedly rolled his eyes, looking around.
—Yet he didn't see Mr. Fool's stone table.
All he saw were cocoons woven from almost transparent light, quietly suspended around him by thin black threads.
He lifted his gaze; far off through the gray mist, an ancient long table flickered into view, and beside it three similarly indistinct figures appeared after a burst of deep-red light.
It was the Tarot Club.
Just a little too far away.
Ning Lu: "…"
Unable to hold it in, he spoke aloud.
"So?"
"Where the hell have I ended up—am I even still in Sefirah Castle?"
"Holding a Tarot meeting without me?"