AIjh

- Negotiations

So Emperor Roselle really was a compatriot of mine! — Klein felt a wave of relief and horror hit him at the same time.

Who were the Abrahams?

Where was the Forsaken Land of the Gods?

What did "act" and "digest" mean?

With his thoughts in chaos, he noticed a specific term:

Zaratul!

Zaratul refers to the family of the Fourth Epoch that is linked to the origin of the Secret Order! That means this Zaratul might be from the organization... My compatriot was not on the right path.

He gave negative warnings about the pathway of the Seer. Why? There doesn't seem to be anything wrong... But my compatriot regretted not choosing that path for some reason... It's not like I had any choice.

As for the Forsaken Land of the Gods, I have no idea what it could be...

Who could the guy the Emperor referred to at the beginning be? Even more so, wondering if he was really him... 

Also, the emperor seemed very upset in his last writing. He must have discovered something that shook him deeply... What could "The Abrahams lied" mean? Abrams must be referring to an ancient family? From the looks of it, perhaps.... 

This diary could serve as a guide for my life as a Beyonder in this new world! 

Klein sighed inwardly, feeling as if he had met an old friend from many years ago. 

There was another transmigrator besides him! 

Since the emperor is my compatriot, then there is a high chance that the creator of the tarot system is a transmigrator too!

— Are there no other pages? — Klein asked, managing to come out of his deep reverie.

— Did you think there would be many? — Old Neil gave a nostalgic laugh — For starters, there aren't many cases involving Beyonders or mysteries, and as the centuries go by, extraordinary creatures are becoming extinct in our world, so the potions disappeared completely at some point.

Klein thought for a moment and replied:

— We should open a Dragon and Elf Protection Association.

Old Neil paused for a moment, confused, and it took him a while to figure out the meaning of those words. He laughed and slammed his hand on the table.

— Haha, why only protect dragons and elves? Fantastic Creatures Protection Association.

Klein smiled.

— No, no. How could we forget about the poor plants?

They both looked at each other and said in unison:

— Fantastic Organism Protection Association!

They laughed together. With the awkwardness completely gone, they were no longer complete strangers to each other. 

— There are no young people as good-natured as you these days. — Neil took two bullet cartridges and a holster from the shelf and handed them to him. — Here, the ones on the right are anti-demon bullets and the ones on the left are normal ones, you'll need them for protection. —

Old Neil probably knew he had a pistol, Dunn didn't forget to tell him that at least. 

— Tomorrow you'll have to go practice your aim with the gun. — Neil mentioned simply as he left. 

— The captain didn't mention that. — Klein turned around again. 

Neil stifled a laugh and looked at him with amusement. 

— He forgot that too.

Oh, that's right… — Klein remembered Dunn's forgetfulness and left the room, looking around and making sure he wouldn't get lost. 

On the way, he unfortunately saw a certain poet with deep green eyes leaning on the railing of the stairs. He seemed to be humming some poetry and then nodded to Klein. 

— You'll be a great Nighthawk, we have our differences and secrets, don't we? Besides, you're special. 

You look so gay... — The corners of Klein's mouth curled up indiscernibly. 

...

East Borough, Iron Cross headquarters.

The walls of the vast and spacious underground corridors were all painted with dozens of murals, each depicting different mythical moments that came from ancient tales.

There were candles hanging above the ceiling in an unearthly manner.

The width and height of the corridors were so great that they could make anyone feel like an ant in a giant's lair.

The walls were perfectly made with an architecture that did not belong to the Iron Age or any of the Empires of the Age of the Gods, looking even older.

Staring fixedly, Medici remembered a heavy feeling in his mind, it seemed more like nostalgia or something similar.

I should review the internal files and look for more information wherever I can...

Yes, at least in the Order Hunters, there is more information available about the ancient eras than what the Churches spread, we didn't even have a God of Steam and Machinery until the end of the Fourth Age, so how could he have been born suddenly?

The meaning of blasphemy was in front of all the Beyonders the whole time.

 Thinking like that, maybe The Fool is an ancient deity from the Third Epoch!

It wouldn't be surprising, the churches basically burned everything about the ancient eras and one can only get information from the outside as separate official organizations or with secret organizations. — he thought silently, the corners of his mouth curving into a cheeky smile.

In one of the curves of the several spacious corridors, he saw a dark-haired man with short black hair with some parts tied in braids. His very light brown eyes that more resembled a shade of white had an unprecedented calmness.

He wore only a white shirt and a double-breasted suit with other layers in shades of white, black and dark blue. In his hands, there were some books stacked up.

That was Lionel, the captain of the fourth division of the Order Hunters in Backlund.

He greeted him so lost in his thoughts that it didn't even seem like everyone had been called to a meeting at the last minute and then asked absentmindedly:

— Have you had any other cases? My last case about those strange movements of someone with characteristics similar to the Arbiter's pathway didn't lead to much.

— There have been cases of disappearances along the coast and in colonies, and the search was initiated by the Mandated Punishers. For some reason, they still think I should be the one dealing with those rude people who don't even have the diction to say a full sentence before starting a fight. Hehe, maybe that would be interesting. — Medici spoke in a relaxed tone.

Lionel just stared with a questioning look, almost imagining what could happen in a few weeks.

It wouldn't be surprising if they received a complaint the next day claiming that a bar fight between two pirates ended in an armed conflict with some deaths and, coincidentally, one of the investigated people turned up dead shortly after the fight.

— The Mandated Punishers don't like you very much, especially that bishop, Chogo. — He seemed a little thoughtful — The people he treated with such contempt were the clandestines, especially pirates. But the temperament of many bishops of the Church of the Tyrant has always been horrible with anyone and you are a former Provoker, a perfect combination for disaster. I'm glad he doesn't know about our methods.

There was a reason why the higher-ups of the churches had some power over the investigations carried out by the Order's Hunters or over the organization itself.

Even though the investigations were always very thorough, they were always looking for information so they didn't mind dealing with pirates, some members of secret organizations and clandestine Beyonders.

— They have their own secrets and blasphemies to sweep under the rug, yet they wouldn't deliberately be such blatant hypocrites. — Medici replied simply.

In his own thoughts, he knew that it wasn't just the fact that they were of the Hunter's pathway that deeply irritated some of those life-weary bishops. It probably had something to do with their name or something.

However, it's not like there had been any progress in finding out who it was in the first place.

Lionel finally glanced back and turned to Medici.

— Do you know why we're meeting today? There didn't seem to be anything wrong before… Don't tell me it's because of that case three years ago where that bishop from the Midnight Church stole the 0-08 artifact?

Medici smiled.

— It must be because of the increase in cases involving secret organizations, and the high-ranking ones also seem more active than before. Something is happening in Loen.

He took one last look at the murals before entering a hall with even more paintings everywhere.

There were twenty bronze and iron chairs, but the room only had seven people in total at a close distance.

This was the meeting hall of Backlund's headquarters.

Medici simply sat down casually in one of the chairs next to Lionel, depending on the case, he could even rest his feet on the table.

The captain of one of the main squadrons who had recently been transferred from Bayam, Emery Bellden, gave a nod.

With a tense air spreading throughout the room, no one said a single word even after a deep sigh came from one of the last chairs.

Yvaine Callas had a thoughtful expression weighing on her face.

— Let the meeting begin.

...

City of Generosity, Bayam.

With a dark look covering his face, Alger headed towards a narrow alley and soon disappeared from the sight of anyone who might be watching.

He passed through the door hidden behind some bricks and began to think deeply.

Even if he didn't want to, he had to agree that that Hunter who sometimes appears by sea is quite trustworthy, he has never given him any information that was not true in his negotiations.

 Medici is certainly supported by an organization since he appeared in the last pirate confederation even though he is not a sailor, but his strength is at least equal to a Vice Admiral or an Admiral... He never does anything without a reason, he must have gained something from this deal... — Alger guessed without showing any trace of doubt on his face.

At that moment, he could not seem too curious so he hid his own feelings.

When he looked ahead, he saw a woman sitting on a chair, her expression impassive.

She looked more like a teacher than a pirate, with a simple beige coat that fit tightly at the waist and a dark colored skirt that reached her knees. The pleats of the skirt were connected. On her feet were brown leather boots.

Her long brown hair was parted in the middle, tied in a simple knot and she had light blue eyes.

— An old friend told me that he would accept the trade. So, will you help me get the artifact? I must warn you that it will not be a safe journey. — The woman said in a deep tone.

 He recognized her immediately, having seen her once in the past.

Vice Admiral Iceberg, Edwina Edwards.