Alexandria's Keeper - Lord of the Mysteries

Lucky me, hehe~ If Old Neil hadn't asked, I would've just snuck out and followed them. I did buy that suspicious-looking cloak for this exact reason. A bit sad I won't get to use it, but... there'll be more opportunities, Irina thought with a grin.

As dusk fell, the setting sun cast long shadows of carriages and horses. Irina and Klein headed toward the harbor with Old Neil in a public carriage. Klein was dressed in cheap formal wear, while Irina opted for a simple long dark dress, a stark contrast to her usual elaborate and heavily decorated outfits.

When the sunlight turned fiery, the carriage came to a stop. Old Neil, wearing his classic black robe and felt hat, ignored the curious glances from passersby as he led the way diagonally toward the Evil Dragon Bar.

Klein seemed to hear something from behind the tightly shut doors, though Irina remained oblivious until they got closer, when loud shouts filled the air.

Suddenly, the Seer's gaze shifted towards the warehouse opposite the bar. Irina, attuned to his movements, followed his lead and spotted a sturdy man in uniform hiding in the shadows on the rooftop. He was holding a massive grayish-white mechanical box, connected by pipings to a thick rifle.

"Steam-pressured rifle?" Klein muttered, surprised.

Irina raised a brow. "Looks like it, though I'm no expert."

Klein glanced at Old Neil. "This bar can actually get its hands on something like that?"

Old Neil squinted at the rooftop. "What? Did something happen?"

The younger Nighthawks exchanged glances, surveying their surroundings. More men with repeating rifles patrolled the area, seemingly searching for something.

What are they looking for again? Must not be too important if I forgot.

Old Neil approached the sturdy doorman, who smiled wryly, clearly familiar with him.

"The bar was almost wrecked earlier," the man explained.

Irina sighed internally. Ah, connections. Must be nice. But you have to go out to make them. I rarely leave my bed, let alone the apartment, so...

The sturdy man continued after a pause. "A wanted man was here, trying to buy materials. Got recognized. Next thing we know, firearms everywhere. Scared me more than an entire night with Ginger Sunny!"

Old Neil leaned in with interest. "Wanted man, huh? You know his name?"

I know this... don't I? Irina thought, racking her memory.

The doorman scratched his head. "I think it was Tris, or something like that."

Ohh! Her—no, wait. Him now, right?

Klein tapped his cane. "Did they catch him?"

Not that it matters, she shrugged mentally. Soon enough, he'll become a she. Hope I don't slip up on the pronouns. I don't want to look suspicious.

The doorman gestured toward the rooftop with his chin. "Nah, he bolted before those guys showed up. Never seen anyone run faster!"

Old Neil, unfazed, changed the subject. "The market's still open?"

"Yep, back in business," the doorman confirmed.

"Good to hear," Old Neil replied, quickening his pace as he pushed the heavy door open. Irina and Klein followed, only to be immediately hit by the stuffy air filled with alcohol and sweat. The smell made here momentarily stagger.

Great... if I can't handle this, how am I supposed to survive taverns full of pirates later?

She elegantly unfolded her fan, covering her nose and mouth while fanning herself. Or at least, she thought she looked elegant

In the middle of the Evil Dragon Bar, a boxing ring stood, where two half-naked men were locked in an intense brawl. Around them, dozens of rowdy customers shouted and cheered, throwing vulgarities in support of their chosen fighter.

A bit better, but this place still reeks of... unclean, drunk men. Ugh. How am I supposed to survive pirates? I need a mask—no, forget one. I need two, she wrinkled her nose.

Old Neil ignored the chaos and led the two young Nighthawks around the ring, heading into a billiard room at the back. Inside, two people with cue sticks were casually chatting. They fell silent the moment Old Neil entered, recognizing him. After a brief pause, they moved aside, allowing the group to pass through the secret door behind them.

After walking through a few rooms, Klein and Irina's surroundings opened up to what looked like a marketplace about the size of a lecture hall.

Not gonna lie, I expected something bigger, Irina thought. But then again, Tingen is small. The black market in Backlund should be much larger.

Vendors had set up makeshift stalls, bottles, and cans spread out across their tables. Passersby strolled through, examining goods, haggling, or comparing prices.

"They have to give five percent of their profits to Swain," Old Neil explained, his tone casual yet informative. "He's the boss of the Evil Dragon Bar, a former captain of a Mandated Punisher squad. Older than me too. He spends most of his time trying to drink himself to death."

So this place is watched carefully. I won't be able to buy anything. Too risky. I could get recognized.

Klein considered Old Neil's words for a moment before saying, "Seems like a profitable business."

Old Neil gritted his teeth. "If something catches your eye but you don't have the money, you can always borrow from Swain. But of course, he charges a hefty interest…"

Like a casino then. Klein was right—profitable. Plus, no one's dethroning him anytime soon. She whispered, "No discount for fellow Beyonders fighting for justice? Quite the cold guy."

Old Neil snickered. "Not really. He's not as bad as you make him out to be."

Klein, holding his walking stick, asked curiously, "Swain's a Seafarer?"

Old Neil shook his head. "No, he's just a Folk of Rage. Tingen's not a coastal city, so the Church of the Goddess is more powerful here than the Lord of Storms."

He paused for a second before scoffing. "Actually, Swain had the chance to become a Seafarer but gave it up. He was afraid he'd lose control."

So he's only a Sequence 8? Weak... oh, wait. He's still stronger than me physically. Damn my weak Sequence, Irina cursed internally.

Klein creased his brow. "His spiritual perception seems very high... or maybe distorted?"

Huh? Irina turned towards Klein and noticed he was staring at a pale young man with messy black hair. The man wore a worn linen shirt and blue jeans, typical for the working class, his eyes filled with a crazed, demoralized look. He was mumbling to himself constantly.

The seer made eye contact with him, and the young man shuffled over, half-sleepwalking, half-insane. He stopped right in front of Klein, staring at him intently.

Irina watched the scene unfold, feeling almost as though she were witnessing something otherworldly.

Suddenly, the young man let out a mad shout, "Haha, it's the smell of death, death… ah!"

Not bad. C+ for effort, Irina thought, mildly amused.

Before the man could finish speaking, he screamed in agony. Blood-colored liquid dripped from his tightly shut eyes. "Ah! Darn it!"

He collapsed, clutching his head and writhing on the ground before eventually calming down, panting heavily.

That was quite a show, Irina mused, not taking the scene seriously. I take it back. A+ for drama. Didn't know this market had a theater.

Not a single customer or vendor batted an eye during the commotion. Klein pressed down his halved top hat, looking to Old Neil for an explanation, his mouth slightly open in shock.

Old Neil sighed. "Don't mind him. That's Ademisaul, an orphan. People call him a 'monster.' He was born with a heightened spiritual perception and sees things he shouldn't. Hears voices too. That's why he's always raving and often getting hurt."

... now I feel kind of bad, Irina thought. He's suffering while I... no. I can't take on everyone's problems in this world. Best to just mind my own business, like the vendors.

Klein knitted his brows and lowered his voice. "Haven't the Nighthawks, Mandated Punishers, or the Machinery Hivemind tried to take him in?" he asked, glancing briefly at Irina.

Like me, she thought. But I didn't need a potion. I was fine on my own, already protected by my pathway and whatnot. He wasn't as lucky.

Old Neil sighed. "No, we don't have the Sequence potion that suits him."

Born with the starting point of half a Sequence. A situation similar to mine... except one of my parents was mid-sequence, not low, Irina thought.

"What Sequence pathway suits him?" Klein asked curiously.

Old Neil replied softly, "The Sequence 9 that suits him is called 'Monster.' That's where his nickname comes from. Unfortunately, only the Life School of Thought controls that Sequence pathway's beginning."

So it's the Wheel of Fortune Pathway... how could I not have thought about it until now?! Will Auceptin! I could ask him for help. He aided Klein, so I'm sure he'd be willing to lend me a hand too. I'll go over my plans later in Alexandria...

As Klein got lost in thought, Ademisaul struggled to his feet and wandered off to another corner. Klein quickly pulled himself together, and he and Irina followed Old Neil through the market. They passed stall after stall filled with items like moonflower, fingered citron, night vanilla, and gemstones like silver, topaz, and ruby.

"It's really well-stocked," Klein muttered softly.

Irina nodded. "I have to agree with little Klein here."

Klein's steps faltered, and he turned towards her. "Miss Irina, I'm confused... how am I 'little'?"

She laughed out loud. "Please, drop the 'Miss.' It's way too formal for me. Also, I'm just teasing, little Klein~"

Old Neil chuckled at their banter, then pointed toward one of the rooms at the end of the hall. "Walk around on your own. I need to settle my bill."

Both Klein and Irina nodded in unison. "Alright."

Klein strolled over to a stall selling homemade amulets, inspecting them carefully. After a while, he sighed and turned. "Are you not going to wander around?"

Irina, who had been following him, shrugged. "Not really. I looked around on the way here but didn't see anything interesting. My main focus is on books, documents, or any kind of text, and there's not much of that here."

Klein nodded. "I understand—"

Suddenly, a voice came from the stall behind them. "Is this powder ground from cow teeth paeonol?"

Irina and Klein both turned to look at the inquirer. Paeonol... an ingredient for the Spectator potion, she thought. I hope my presence doesn't stop Klein from acting like he did in the novel.

She watched the man haggle over the price and succeed. I wish I had that kind of confidence...

She noticed Klein tapping his glabella twice, activating his Spirit Vision as he discreetly scanned the man. Once satisfied, Klein retracted his gaze and returned his attention to the stall with the amulets. Irina did the same, using her Spirit Vision to examine them. She quickly realized that not all of them worked—some mistakes had been made in their creation, though she couldn't pinpoint where.

Not that interesting after all, she quickly lost interest. At some point, she heard the same man's voice again.

"How much for these two?"

She didn't turn around as he bargained. Instead, her attention shifted to a teenage girl in a lacy yellow dress approaching the stall. Maybe it's time for me to wander off for a bit... I don't want to interrupt.

Irina wandered through the various stands, inspecting the items with her Spirit Vision, but nothing caught her attention. Eventually, she reunited with Klein and Old Neil, who now held a dark-colored wooden box.

What is that? Did he buy something else? Or... is that for that stupid ritual he'll do later? She hadn't turned off her Spirit Vision, but the box seemed ordinary. Uhm... whatever it is, it's suspicious.

Old Neil noticed Klein's doubtful expression and pointed to the room behind them. "If you're interested in buying or selling extraordinary materials, go there. No one likes others knowing what extraordinary items they're purchasing."

Klein nodded slowly. "I understand."

Irina smiled politely, masking her internal frustration. "You just paid off your debt, and now you're buying more? Not the best role model for us younglings."

Old Neil laughed awkwardly and waved off her comment. Idiot. You'll end up killing yourself in such a gruesome way. I have to stop him before he makes the same mistakes...

As they made their way toward the exit, a voice caught their attention. "How much for these elf flowers?"

Spectator potion, as expected. It must be the same person from earlier. Irina noticed Klein glancing sideways.

He knows... he remembers Audrey listing the ingredients at the last Tarot Club meeting, she thought. Oh, how I want to join... Little Sun, hurry up so I can also be part of the fun!

Old Neil asked curiously, "What's the matter?"

Klein retracted his gaze. "Nothing much."

After leaving the Evil Dragon Bar, the trio boarded a public carriage and left the harbor. They split ways at North Borough, heading back to their respective homes.

Klein will meet that 'lady' when he gets off the carriage... but there's no good reason for me to follow him. He'll have to face that alone.