The Lord Of The Mysteries

Chapter 78's

Aiur Harson added, "To be precise, it is hard to imagine that the next Sequence of Seer is Clown. According to normal logic, no one would connect them together."

"Is that weird? I remember that quite a number of Sequence potions also seemed to have nothing in common between their different levels." Lorotta closed her mouth as she yawned. It is clear that his injuries were worse. Not even the Goddess's Gaze could help him maintain his excited energy.

"No, Lorotta. It's completely different. Even if the other Sequence potions have no connection, we can also find the same points when viewed from different angles. However, I cannot understand it for the Seer and Clown at all," Aiur Harson said as he shook his head and sighed.

Klein listened to their discussion and laughed.

"No, there's still the same point."

"What?" ask Aiur curiously. Even Dunn's arm training was clearly slowing down.

Klein replied without hesitation, "Whether it's the Oracle or the Clown, both can be found in the circus."

"…" Aiur, Dunn, and Lorotta were stunned.

"Pfft. I like a young man like you!" Lorotta was the first to regain consciousness as she burst out laughing.

Aiur also smiled while shaking his head.

"In this era, the number of men equipped with a spirit of self-deprecation was reduced. Thank goodness, we met one today."

Do you think I like to engage in self-deprecation .. It's not like I find common ground between the two. Klein complained internally as he replied with a wry smile, "I just hope the potions from the Sequence Path won't have names like Beast Tamer, Acrobat, or Magician. It's really gonna form a circus."

Besides, it's a one-man circus…

"Ha ha." Dunn and her friends immediately felt amused. It filled the car with a joyful atmosphere.

The train runs straight to Zouteland Road. Klein, who was unharmed, was the first to enter the Blackthorn Security Company.

"Goddess! What the hell happened to you? Why are you like that?" Rozanne exclaimed as she looked at him.

Klein stared at his dirty and tattered coat. He replied with a sick heart, "There are always all sorts of accidents during missions. Thank goodness, the Goddess blessed us and it ended beautifully."

"Praise Miss!" Rozanne faithfully drew a red moon on her chest.

Before waiting for Klein to continue, he asked, "Do you need us to hide on the third floor again? Are Closed Artifacts really that dangerous?"

"Trust. This is far more dangerous than you can imagine" Klein replied with lingering fear.

If not for his more mysterious luck-enhancing ritual, he would have perished under the proverbial hand of 2-049!

"Goddess .." Rozanne's lips quivered as if she still had a million things to say or questions to ask, but given how the captain waited below, she held back her coercion. He told Mrs Orianna and her friends to go up to the third floor. The Blackthorn Security Company's neighbors either belonged to the Church, or a godly priest who was vaguely aware of the situation.

When all the civilian staff dispersed, Klein did not rush into the entertainment room to notify the other Nighthawks. He immediately returned and helped the captain and the others escort the Sealed Artifact 2-049, the remains of the Bieber Monster, and the Antigonus family notebook to the second floor.

Through the partition, Dunn pushed open the door of the entertainment room and said to the two Nighthawks who were playing the Gwent card, "Frye, Royale, you two should head to Tyrell's warehouse harbor immediately and help Leonard deal with the aftermath."

"Good." Royale with jet-black hair and his cold expression was the first to stand up.

Corpse Collector Frye, with her black hair, blue eyes, and pale skin stood next to her.

They put down their Gwent cards and walked out of the entertainment room and when they passed through the partition, they clearly stopped.

"Wait," cried Dunn, not disappointing their expectations.

"Others there?" Sleepless Royale looked back and asked expressionlessly.

"Remember to tell the police. Let them close the road. Prevent anyone from getting close until you're done with the scene and move the body back," Dunn said as she smacked her forehead.

"Good." Royale turned around and took two steps before stopping once more.

He turned his head, blinked and confirmed coldly, "Captain, is there nothing else?"

"No," Dunn replied firmly.

Royale nodded unconsciously and walked towards the entrance.

As for the Frye Corpse Collector that exuded coldness and darkness, he maintained his adequate speed.

At the time, Dunn added, "Remember to tell Rozanna, Mrs. Orianna, and her friends that they can go down."

"No problem." Frye calmly replied as if there were no turbulent emotions in him.

Klein watched as the two Nighthawks walked out of the door and climbed upstairs before sighing in secret. He followed the captain and the rest were underground. They headed straight for Chanis Gate.

As Dunn gestured for the Sleepless Kenley to open the Chanis Gate, she instructed Klein, "Go to the armory and bring Old Neil here. We need his ritualistic magic to heal ourselves."

As the effects of the medicine began to dissipate, his mental state gradually diminished.

"Good." Klein did not wait for the captain to continue, as he added, "I'll keep an eye on the armory at Old Neil's place. I will also ask for at least twenty demon hunter bullets and also wait for the approval of the Sacred Cathedral, restraining my curiosity about the Antigonus family notebook."

"…" Dunn was instantly at a loss for words.

"Captain, is there anything else?" klein asked with a smile after defeating Dunn.

Dunn shook her head and remained silent.

He took out his wand and turned around. After walking a certain distance, Klein turned to the armory and told the general story to Old Neil who was drinking water.

"He became a monster who lost control... You even killed Beyonder?" Old Neil quickly tidied up his desk. "It seems I'm listening to the drama script."

He muttered as he circled the table and walked straight towards the corridor without waiting for Klein's reply.

Klein asked curiously, "Master Neil, doesn't the Church have a real cure? Why is ritualistic magic necessary?"

"No medicine made with ordinary ingredients can provide a permanent recovery effect from a ritual. Incredible ingredients are very rare, and most are not suitable for restorative medicine," Old Neil explained casually. "You should know about Goddess's Gaze, right? When a medicine is first made through ritual, it will become a real standard restorative medicine. But every minute after it's finished, the effect evaporates until little of its efficacy is left."

"I understand ..." Klein nodded in disappointment.

As a former "keyboard fighter" and avid gamer, it has become a habit to crave medicine with magical healing properties.

Amidst his peace, he recalls the tragic death of a suitable clown. He remembered himself shooting coldly, horrific wounds and spewing fresh blood.

Klein's body shivered as he felt uneasy. He first stood up, then sat down, then slowly repeated the process. He also did some pacing in between.

He sighed and decided to concern himself with something so that he could stop thinking about the negative picture.

Klein took off his silk hat and formal suit. He then took a handkerchief and brush to clean the dirt and mud.

After an uncertain time, he hears Neil's familiar footsteps. Old Neil's gait made him walk on his heels, and it made a distinctive sound as he walked down the aisle.

"How tiring.." old Neil lamented as he walked into the room.

"Tell the others that no one will come here in the next hour. I need to rest," he instructed casually, glancing towards Klein.

"Why don't you rest upstairs, and I'm on guard here?" Klein suggested for goodness sake.

Old Neil shook his head.

"Over upstairs it's too noisy. Rozanne is a woman who can't stop talking."

"Good." Klein did not insist. He put on his coat and hat, took his cane, and returned to the corridor. Then, he pulled the armory door open.

Knocks. Knocks. Knocks. He slowly walked on the empty street when he suddenly saw many rooms he had never seen before beside him.

"There's a secret door here .." Klein stopped somewhere around the corner when he looked into the room.

He discovered that Corpse Collector Frye had returned. He carefully inspected the corpse that was completely dissected.

A body? Klein's heart moved as he gathered his courage and approached the room. He knocked slowly on the open door.

Knock it! Knock it! Knock it!

Frye stopped his actions and turned around, looking up with blue but ice-cold eyes.

"Sorry to bother you. I just want to know if this is Beyonder's corpse," Klein asked as he controlled his tone.

"Yes." Yeah." Frye's lips were open and closed, but only took out one word.

Klein's gaze reached out beyond him and landed on the corpse. Indeed, he found a familiar terrible wound on his forehead.

It was a suitable clown. Klein quietly sighed and said, "There's a discovery?"

"No," Frye replied in a very simple manner.

The atmosphere immediately turned awkward. Just as Klein was about to say goodbye, Frye took the initiative to say, "If you feel uncomfortable, you can go in to take a look. You'll find that it's just a corpse."

Afraid I'm traumatized? Klein nodded while thinking.

"Good."

He entered the room and came in front of a long table dressed in white as he looked at the corpse.

The matching clown's red, yellow, and white paint has been cleaned, revealing an unfamiliar face that doesn't look special. He was in his thirties and had black hair and a tall nasal shaft.

At that moment, Frye went to a square table in the corner of the wall and picked up a pencil and a piece of paper.

He returned to the corpse and put down the paper and began drawing with a pencil.

Klein glanced at him curiously and found that Frye was sketching a suitable clown head.

It didn't take long before Frye stopped moving the pencil. On a piece of paper, there was a portrait of a living human. Compared to corpses, the only difference was the absence of injuries with the addition of blue eyes.

What a talented genius .. Klein was amazed by surprise.

"I never expected you to be able to sketch that well."

"My dream is to become an artist before becoming a Nighthawk." Frye's tone was completely calm.

"Why didn't you fulfill your dream?" klein asked curiously.

Frye put down his pencil and said with a matching portrait of a clown in hand, "My father is the priestess of the Goddess. He wants me to be a priest. It's a decent job."

"You're a priest?" Klein asked in surprise.

He felt it was inconceivable that Frye could become a priest with his personality and the vibe he was emitting.

"Yes, I did a pretty good job." Frye put on a cold expression as the corner of her mouth slightly curved as she replied. "Then, I met and experienced some things and ended up becoming a Nighthawk."

Klein did not plan on violating his privacy, so he asked, "You were once the priestess of the Goddess, so why not choose to become Sleepless?"

"Personal reasons" replied Frye bluntly. "In addition, Mrs Daly is a good role model."

Klein nodded and just as he was about to change the subject, he heard Frye say, "Help me guard this room. I must immediately hand the sketch to the Captain. Closing the secret door is very troublesome."

"Good." Although Klein was a little afraid of facing the corpse alone, he agreed with his fear.

With Frye gone, the room became quiet. The corpse lay there as Klein's heart became heavy.

He took a few breaths and, in an attempt to defeat his fear, approached the long table.

A suitable clown lay there quietly with his pale face. His eyes were tightly shut, and he lost all signs of breathing. Apart from the terrible wounds, he exuded a unique coldness from the dead.

Klein watched for a moment as his emotions gradually subsided as he began to calm down.

He swept his gaze and found a strange brand on the wrist of that matching clown. Gathering his courage, he reached out his hand to touch her, hoping to flip her over to see her more clearly.

Just when an icy touch from Klein's fingertips to his brain, the pale palm that had lost all its spirit suddenly lifted, grabbing his wrist.

It gripped his wrist tightly!