The Secret Master

As the sun began to set, the shadows of the carriages and horses were stretched long by the setting sun. Having already informed Benson and Melissa, Klein had dinner at Blackthorn Security Company and was now on a public carriage with Old Neil, heading towards the Docklands. He was wearing the same cheap suit as before, as he was worried that a similar occasion might lead to a conflict - if he damaged the tuxedo he had been taking good care of, it would be more than just a matter of heartache. When the sun took on a burning hue, the carriage stopped. Old Neil, still dressed in his classic black robe and matching round-brimmed felt hat, walked towards the "Evil Dragon Bar" across the street without caring about the stares. Even though the bar was a bit far away and the heavy door was closed, Klein could still hear the increasingly loud shouts from inside, as if they were cheering for some "hero". Just as they were approaching, he suddenly had a premonition and turned his head to look at the warehouse opposite the bar, where he saw a tall, muscular man in a uniform standing in a hidden spot on the roof. This man was carrying a large gray-white mechanical box on his back and holding a long, thick rifle with a complex structure. There was a clear pipe connecting the gray-white metal box to the same-colored rifle. "High-pressure steam rifle?" Klein whispered in astonishment, turning to look at Old Neil and saying, "Can this bar get such weapons?" This was a military-controlled item! Although it used extracted phlogiston, the size and weight of the high-pressure steam backpack were still astonishing. Only a true iron-blooded warrior could carry it, and the bullets it propelled had an extremely high speed and considerable destructive power. With proper aiming, it was almost equivalent to a poor-quality sniper rifle. "What?" Old Neil squinted and looked over, equally puzzled. "Is something wrong here?" Something wrong? Klein looked around and indeed saw several men with repeating rifles searching for something. "What's going on?" Old Neil approached the bar and asked the burly man guarding the door. The burly man clearly knew Old Neil and his facial muscles twitched as he said with a bitter smile: "Just now, the bar almost got torn apart." "It's said that a wanted guy came to buy materials and was recognized, so it turned out like this... My God, what did he do and how dangerous is he to be treated like this? Seeing those guns, my legs went weak, even weaker than after spending a whole night with the red-haired Sanni!" He had no idea who the wanted man was and didn't know that the guys buying materials here were mixed with extraordinary individuals. "A wanted guy? Do you know his name?" Old Neil asked with interest. "Tris?" the burly man replied uncertainly. "Tris the Inciter?" Klein nodded in realization, understanding what had happened. Tris didn't know he was suspected by Joyce Mayer before, so he swaggered into the underground market to buy materials. As a result, he was recognized by a spy from the "Mechanical Heart" or the "Punisher" or "Night Watch" teams, leading to a fierce conflict. "Was he caught?" Klein tapped his silver-inlaid black cane. Judging from the situation around, it seemed not... The burly man shook his head slightly and pointed with his chin towards the top of the warehouse opposite the bar, saying: "He managed to escape before those terrifying guys arrived. Wow, I've never seen anyone run faster than him!" Actually, you haven't seen the true skills of the "Assassin" yet. Otherwise, you would be taken to an indescribable place for re-education... Klein thought to himself. "Is the market still open?" Old Neil turned to the key point. "Just reopened," the burly man confirmed. "That's good." Old Neil quickened his pace, stretched out his right hand, and pushed open the heavy door. Klein followed closely behind and entered. He almost fainted from the suffocating heat and the smell of alcohol that hit him in the face. In the center of the "Evil Dragon Bar" stood a boxing ring. Two bare-chested men were fiercely fighting inside, while dozens of patrons around them were cheering for their favorites, with some even using vulgar language. Old Neil ignored them and led Klein around the ring towards a billiards room at the back. Inside the billiards room, two men were chatting and laughing while holding billiard cues. When they saw Old Neil push the door open, they fell silent for a few seconds. After confirming who the newcomers were, they quietly made way for Old Neil and Klein to pass through a secret door at the back. After passing through several rooms, Klein's vision suddenly cleared, and he saw a place as large as a classroom from his previous life. Here, some people were setting up stalls with bottles and jars piled up on them, while others were walking among them, either examining, chatting, or bargaining. "All the profits have to be given a twentieth to Svein. Ah, he's the owner of the Evil Dragon Bar, the former captain of the 'Penitents' squad, and he's older than me. He's an old guy who hopes to die from alcoholism," Old Neil chattered. Klein thought for a moment and sincerely commented, "It's quite a profitable business." Because the only costs were providing the venue and protection. "If you see something you like but don't have enough money, you can go to Svein to borrow. Of course, he'll charge you a very high interest rate..." At this point, Old Neil's teeth clenched in anger. Sure enough, just like a casino, it provides high-interest loans... Klein held his cane and looked around curiously, asking, "Is Mr. Svein a 'Nautarch'?" The captain of the 'Penitents' squad should be at the 7th sequence. "No, he's just a 'Furious Folk'. Tingen is not a coastal city. Here, the Church of the Goddess is more powerful than that of the Storm Lord," Old Neil scoffed. "Actually, Svein had the chance to become a 'Nautarch', but he was afraid of losing control and gave it up." Klein was about to ask if the bar owner had ever lost control when he suddenly sensed something strange on his left. There seemed to be something lurking there, whispering and narrating. Klein turned his head and saw a pale-faced young man. He was wearing a tattered linen shirt and the typical blue-gray trousers of the working class. His eyes were very unfocused but showed a hint of madness as he kept muttering something. "His inspiration is so high... or distorted?" Klein frowned and whispered. It was the other person's "inspiration" that had triggered his own! Normally, the awareness brought by "inspiration" would definitely have some interaction and be almost impossible to hide from others. But this "other" referred to the "Seer" who had used the ability and powerful figures with similar specialties. For a "Supernatural" like Klein, it was actually very difficult to detect it. Only when the other person's "inspiration" was extremely high or showed abnormal distortion could he notice it. Their eyes met, and the pale-faced, disheveled-haired young man took a step forward, approaching with a half-dreamy, half-crazy expression. He stopped in front of Klein and stared blankly at him. Suddenly, he laughed loudly, "Haha, the taste of death, death's... ah!" Before he could finish his words, he suddenly screamed in pain, his eyes tightly shut, and blood-colored liquid flowed out. "Ah!" "Damn it!" ... The young man covered his eyes, held his head, and struggled and rolled on the ground for a while before calming down and lying there, panting. Throughout the entire process, not a single customer or vendor passing by even glanced over. Klein pressed down his half-top hat and stared at the old Neil beside him, expressing his astonishment and seeking advice through his actions. "Don't worry about it. His name is Ademisol, an orphan. His nickname is 'Monster'. He was born with a high level of inspiration and often sees things he shouldn't and hears sounds he shouldn't. So he often rambles and gets hurt," the old Neil shook his head and explained. He could tell that this body had died once? Klein frowned and lowered his voice, asking in confusion, "The Night Watchers, the Penitents, and the Heart of Machinery, none of them thought of recruiting him?" "It's impossible. None of us have the appropriate sequence potion for him," the old Neil sighed. Right, this is equivalent to being naturally fixed at the beginning of half a sequence... Klein asked curiously, "Then which sequence path is he suitable for?" "The sequence he belongs to is called 'Monster', and that's where his nickname comes from. Unfortunately, only the Life School has mastered the beginning of this sequence path," the old Neil replied in a low voice. He and Klein's conversation was kept away from the people around them to avoid leaking information to the occult enthusiasts. Life School? Klein recalled the information he had read before. This secret organization emerged at the beginning of this era, and its exact origin is unknown. It mainly follows the master-apprentice system. Their specific theories and beliefs are rarely disclosed. Klein only knew that they divided the world into three layers: the Absolute Rational World, also known as the Absolute Truth World; the Spirit World; and the Material World. It was said that this secret organization had produced a "Prophet"... But shouldn't this correspond to the sequence path of "Diviner"... I don't understand, I don't understand... Klein shook his head repeatedly as he watched Ademisol struggle to his feet and wander off to another corner. He gathered his thoughts and followed the old Neil, passing by one stall after another, and noticed that there were plants like moonflowers, golden citruses, and night-scented herbs, as well as minerals like pure silver, yellow crystals, and rubies. "Quite a complete selection..." Klein muttered to himself. The occult enthusiasts around him, young and old, male and female, would sometimes stop, sometimes distinguish, and sometimes exchange, making the place quite lively. "Take a look around yourself. I'll go pay the bill," the old Neil pointed to one of the two rooms at the end. "Okay," Klein nodded indifferently. He held his black cane and strolled slowly to a stall selling homemade amulets, looking at them carefully for a while. Just as Klein was about to speak, he suddenly heard someone behind the stall asking, "Is this powder made from the teeth of the cow's tooth peony?" Cow's tooth peony? Isn't this an auxiliary material for the "Audience" potion? Klein turned around thoughtfully and looked at the inquirer. Because "Justice" repeated it several times at that time, he had a very deep impression of this material.