LOM: Lord of Mysticism

At dusk, the setting sun cast long shadows of the carriages and horses.

Klein headed to the harbor with Old Neil on a public carriage.

When the sunlight appeared to turn fiery, the carriage stopped, and Old Neil walked diagonally to the Evil Dragon Bar ahead.

Even though the bar was some distance away and the heavy doors were tightly shut, Klein was able to hear wave after wave of rapturous shouts that appeared to be cheering on a hero.

When he came close, he suddenly sensed something. He turned his head towards the warehouse opposite the bar to see a stocky man standing at a hidden corner on the rooftop.

The man carried a huge grayish-white mechanical box and held a thick rifle.

The grayish-white mechanical box was obviously connected to the same-colored rifle via piping.

"Steam-pressured rifle?" Klein muttered and looked at Old Neil. "This bar has such weapons?"

"What?" Old Neil squinted his eyes as he looked over. "Did something happen here?"

Klein surveyed his surroundings to discover a few more men holding rifles and were searching for something.

"What happened?" Old Neil approached the bar and asked the brawny man guarding its door.

The brawny man knew Old Neil and smiled. "The bar was nearly destroyed earlier."

"Apparently a wanted man was here trying to buy materials and was recognized. And this was what resulted from it. Lord, what did he do, and how dangerous was he to receive such treatment?"

He did not know the identity of the wanted man, much less knew that the people who came to buy materials had Beyonders.

"Wanted man? Do you know his name?" Old Neil asked.

"I think it was Tris or something?" the brawny man answered uncertainly.

Instigator Tris? Klein nodded, having understood what was happening.

Tris was unaware that Joyce Meyer had cast his suspicion on him; therefore, he had sauntered right into the market to purchase materials without heed and was likely recognized by an informant of either the Machinery Hivemind or the Nighthawks, resulting in an intense clash.

"Was he caught?" Klein asked.

The brawny man shook his head slightly and gestured to the rooftop of the warehouse opposite him.

"He rushed out before those terrifying guys arrived. Bloody hell, I've never seen a man run faster than he did!"

"Is the market still open?" Old Neil asked.

"It just restored operations."

"That's great." Old Neil pushed open the heavy door.

Klein followed in. He nearly fainted at the stuffiness and smell of alcohol.

Old Neil led Klein around the crowd of people, walking into a billiard room at the back.

In the billiard room, there were two people holding cue sticks, having a casual conversation. When they saw Old Neil enter, they fell silent.

After confirming the visitor's identity, they moved aside and let Old Neil and Klein pass through the secret door behind them.

After passing through a few rooms, Klein saw a place that was about the size of a lecture hall from his previous life.

Some vendors had set up roadside stalls. Passers-by strolled through them, either scrutinizing their goods, chatting, or comparing prices.

"They have to give five percent of their profits to Swain. Ah, he is the boss of Evil Dragon Bar, former captain of a Mandated Punisher squad, and older than I am. He's someone who wishes to drink himself to his death," Old Neil explained.

"If any item catches your fancy but you lack the money, you can borrow from Swain. But of course, he charges a very high interest." Old Neil trailed off.

Klein held his cane and asked, "Mr. Swain is a Seafarer?"

"No, he is only a Folk of Rage. Tingen is not a coastal city, so the Church of the Goddess is much more powerful than the Lord of Storms here.

Actually, Swain had the chance of becoming a Seafarer but was afraid that he would lose control, so he chose to give up." Old Neil said.

Just as Klein was about to ask more, he suddenly felt a strange phenomenon happen on his left.

He heard someone mutter and recount.

Klein turned his head and saw a pale young man. He was wearing an old linen shirt and blue jeans that the working class normally wore. His eyes looked demoralized with a hint of craziness, and he was constantly mumbling.

"His spiritual perception is very high... or perhaps distorted?" Klein muttered.

Generally speaking, spiritual sensing causes some interaction. It was hard to conceal it from others, and a Beyonder like Klein would only detect if one's spiritual perception reached a certain heightened level or an abnormal distortion happened.

They made eye contact, and the pale young man with messy black hair walked towards him with an expression as though he was half-sleepwalking and half-insane.

He stopped before Klein and stared at him. "Haha, it's the smell of death, death... Ah!"

Before he was done talking, he screamed tragically. His eyes shut tightly as red liquid flowed out.

"Ah! Darn it!" The young man hugged his head and struggled on the ground for a while.

During the entire process, not a single customer or vendor looked over.

Klein looked at Old Neil shocked.

"Don't mind him. He's Ademisaul, an orphan nicknamed 'monster.' He was born with high spiritual perception, and he has always been able to see things and hear voices that he shouldn't. Hence, he is always raving and often getting hurt." Old Neil explained.

Klein lowered his voice. "Haven't the Nighthawks, Mandated Punishers, or the Machinery Hivemind ever thought of taking him in?"

"No, we do not have the Sequence potion that suits him," Old Neil said with a sigh.

Right, he was born with the starting point of half a Sequence… Klein asked again, "What Sequence pathway suits him?"

"The Sequence 9 that suits him is called 'Monster.' His nickname came from there. The Sequence pathway's beginning is controlled by the Life School of Thought." Old Neil whispered.

Klein recalled the information he had previously read. The secret organization appeared at the beginning of the current epoch. Its origins were unknown, but it was mainly passed down via master and disciple.

Their theories and beliefs were hardly known. Klein only knew that they separated the world into three layers: the definite rational world, also known as the absolute truth world, the spirits' world, and the material world.

Klein saw Ademisaul struggle to get up and then wander off to another corner.

He reorganized his thoughts and followed behind Old Neil past one stall after another. There were plants, flowers, and mineral resources.

The mysticism aficionados of all ages and genders around him would be stopping, distinguishing, or talking at times.

"Walk around on your own. I am going to settle my bill." Old Neil pointed at one of the two rooms at the end.

"Alright." Klein nodded without thought.

He strolled with his black cane and came before a stall that sold self-made amulets.

Just when Klein prepared to speak with the seller, he suddenly heard someone asking the stall behind him, "Is this powder ground from cow teeth paeonol?"

Cow teeth, paeonol? That's one of the supplementary ingredients of the Spectator potion. Klein turned around to look at the inquirer.