The Secret Master

Al Hassen agreed: "Indeed, it's hard to imagine that the successor of 'Diviner' would be 'Clown'. According to normal logic, no one would link them together." "Is this strange? I remember many sequences of potion formulas, and there were also no necessary connections between them." The blonde lady Lorcata covered her mouth and yawned. It was obvious that her injury was quite serious, so much so that even "The Goddess's Gaze" couldn't keep her energetic. "No, Lorcata, this is completely different. Even other sequence potions, even if they lack connections, we can still find certain common points from other aspects, but 'Diviner' and 'Clown' can't. I simply can't understand it at all." Al Hassen shook his head and sighed. Klein listened to their discussion and smiled, saying: "Not really. There are still common points." "What are they?" Al asked curiously, and Dunne's arm-reaching motion also slowed down noticeably. Klein replied seriously: "Whether it's 'Diviner' or 'Clown', they can both be found in the circus." "..." Al, Dunn and Lorcata froze in place. "Ha... Good answer. I like young people like you!" The blonde woman Lorcata was the first to come to her senses and laughed out loud. Al followed suit and smiled, shaking his head and saying: "In this era, gentlemen with a sense of self-mockery are becoming increasingly rare. Fortunately, we have another one today." You think I like self-mockery... Didn't I also fail to think of other commonalities... Klein muttered to himself, answering with a slightly bitter smile: "I only hope that this sequence-based potion no longer has names like 'Animal Trainer', 'Acrobat', 'Magician', etc. Then it would truly form a circus." And it's a one-person show... "Haha." Dunn and others immediately burst into laughter at his words, and the carriage filled with a cheerful atmosphere. The carriage moved forward, arriving at Zotlan Street. The slightly uninjured Klein entered the Black Thorn Security Company first. "Deity! What happened to you? How did you end up like this?" Rosan looked casually and exclaimed in astonishment. Klein looked down at his dirty and damaged formal attire and still answered with a heart-wrenching tone: "In tasks, there are always such and such unexpected things. Fortunately, the deities' blessing, the outcome is good." "Bravo, goddess!" Rosan devoutly drew a "Red Moon" on her chest. Before Klein could speak, she took the initiative to ask: "Do we need to go to the third floor again to hide? Is that seal really that dangerous?" "Believe me, it's more dangerous than you think." Klein replied with a lingering fear. If it weren't for his more mysterious "Reversal Ritual", he would have been dealt with at "2-049" today! "Deity... " Rosan's lips moved, as if there were still many things she wanted to say and many questions she wanted to ask, but considering the captain was waiting below, she finally restrained her impulse and called out to Mrs. Oliona and others to go to the third floor - the left and right neighbors of the Black Thorn Security Company. Up and down the building, either belonged to the church property or were occupied by devout, vaguely-informed priests. When all the civilian personnel had evacuated, Klein didn't rush to the entertainment room to notify the other night watchmen. Instead, he immediately returned and assisted the captain and others in escorting the seal "2-049", the remaining monster Bibber's residue, and the Antigonus family notes to the second floor. Through the partition, Dunn pushed open the door of the entertainment room and said to the two night watchmen who were playing Kunta cards: "Frey, Loya, you should go to the dock area's Tillyer Warehouse immediately and assist Leonard in handling the aftermath." "Okay." The dark-haired, expressionless lady Loya was the first to stand up. The "Grave Digger" with black hair and blue eyes, pale skin, followed and stood upright. They put down the Kunta cards, walked out of the entertainment room, and when passing through the partition, they all paused for a moment. "Wait." Dunn didn't disappoint everyone's expectations and shouted. "Is there anything else?" "The Unsleeping One" Loya asked with unchanged expression, turning her head. "Remember to inform the police to block the road. Don't let anyone approach until you finish handling the scene and bring the corpses back." Dunn lightly tapped his forehead. "Okay." Loya turned around and took a few steps forward, then paused again. She turned back, blinked her eyes, and coldly confirmed: "Captain, is there nothing else?" "No." Dunn replied resolutely. Loya nodded imperceptibly and headed towards the door first. While the cold and dark "Grave Digger" Loya remained in a displeased and unhurried pace. Just then, Dunn spoke again: "Remember, remember to tell Rosan and Mrs. Oliona that they can come down now." "Of course." Loya answered calmly, almost without any emotional fluctuations. Watching the two night guards walk out of the gate and climb up to the third floor, Klein quietly let out a sigh of relief. He followed the captain and El and others into the underground, moving straight ahead and reaching the opened Charnis door. "Go to the armory and find Old Neil. We need his ritual magic treatment," Dunn instructed Cohenli, the remaining "Waker", to open the Charnis door while giving Klein instructions. As the effect of the potion wore off, his spirit gradually became weak. "OK," Klein said without waiting for the captain to add anything, "I'll replace Old Neil to guard the armory and will also apply for at least twenty demon-hunting bullets and wait for the approval from the Sanctuary. I'll resist the curiosity about the Antigonus family notes." "..." Dunn was momentarily at a loss for words. "Captain, is there nothing else?" Klein, having finished his quick response, smiled and asked. Dunn shook his head, still unable to speak. Taking out his walking stick, he turned around, walked for a while, and then turned towards the armory, telling the general gist of the incident to the old Neil who was drinking water. "It turned into a wild monster... And you killed an extraordinary person?" The old Neil quickly cleared his desk, "It's like listening to a script of a drama." He muttered as he walked around the table, his target directly pointing towards the corridor, without waiting for Klein's reply. Klein, however, was rather curiously asked: "Mr. Neil, does the church have no real healing potions? Yet it still needs the help of ritual magic." "Ordinary material concoctions cannot solidify the healing effects from the ritual for a long time. Extraordinary materials are very rare, and most of them are not suitable for doing this kind of thing." The old Neil casually explained, "You should know about 'The Goddess's Gaze', right? When this potion was first made through the ritual, it was a standard, genuine healing potion, but every minute, the effect was evaporating until it was just a little bit left." "Ah... " Klein nodded slightly disappointedly. As a former "keyboard adventurer", that is, a game enthusiast, the desire for healing potions was a habit problem for him. Watching the old Neil leave, he sat down, feeling the peace that had been absent for a long time. In this peace, he recalled the tragic scene of the tailcoat clown when he was dying, recalled his cold-blooded shooting, recalled the terrifying wound and the gushing blood. Klein's body gradually trembled, his heart filled with discomfort. He first stood up, then sat down, and then slowly repeated this process, accompanied by back-and-forth walking. "Whew..." He let out a breath, intending to find something to do to distract himself from those unpleasant images. Klein took off his hat, removed his formal attire, took out a handkerchief and a brush, and carefully cleaned the dirt and dust off his clothes. After a while, he heard the familiar footsteps of the old Neil - it was made by landing on the heel first. "It's really exhausting..." Old Neil walked into the room complaining. "You tell everyone not to come here for an hour. I need some rest," he said, glancing at Klein and giving a casual order. "Why don't you go upstairs to rest and I'll keep watch here?" Klein kindly suggested. Old Neil shook his head: "The top is too noisy. Rosanne is a talkative girl." "OK," Klein didn't insist and put on his coat, put on his hat, picked up his walking stick, returned to the corridor, and pulled the door of the armory half open. Tap, tap, tap, he walked slowly along the empty corridor, suddenly noticing an unfamiliar room beside him. "There's a secret door here... " Klein stopped near the corner and looked towards that room. He discovered that "The Butcher" Frye had returned and was carefully inspecting a completely naked corpse inside. Corpse? A thought crossed Klein's mind, he gathered his courage and approached the room, knocking on the open door three times. Dong, dong, dong. Frye stopped his actions, turned around, and looked at him with blue and cold eyes. "Sorry, I'm disturbing you. I just want to know if this is the body of that extraordinary person?" Klein asked, choosing his words carefully. "Yes." Frye's thin lips opened and closed, but only uttered a word. Klein's gaze passed over him and looked at the corpse. Indeed, he found the familiar grotesque wound on the forehead. It was that tailcoat clown... Klein sighed inwardly and said: "Is there anything you found?" "No." Frye replied in an unusually concise manner. The atmosphere became awkward. Klein was about to leave when Frye spoke up: "If you feel unwell, you can come in and have a look. You'll find it's just a corpse." Afraid of having a psychological disorder? Klein thought and nodded: "OK." He entered the room, came to the long table covered with white cloth, and looked at the corpse. The red, yellow, and white greasepaint on the tailcoat clown's face had all been removed, revealing a featureless strange face, black hair, high nose, around thirty years old. At this time, Frye went to the square table at the corner, picked up a pencil and a piece of white paper. He returned to the corpse, placed the white paper, held the pencil, and began to draw. Klein curiously glanced and found that Frye was actually doing a sketch of the tailcoat clown's head. Not long after, Frye stopped the pencil, and on the white paper, a lifelike portrait appeared, it was just without the wound, just with blue eyes. People... Klein exclaimed in astonishment: "I didn't expect, I didn't expect your sketches to be so good." "Before becoming a night watchman, my dream was to be a painter." Frye's tone had no ups and downs. "Why not pursue your dream?" Klein asked in confusion. Frye put away the pencil, held the portrait of the tailcoat clown, and said: "My father was a priest of the goddess. I hoped to become a priest too. This is a respectable profession." "You were a priest?" Klein asked in astonishment again. He couldn't imagine Frye, with this kind of personality and temperament, becoming a priest. "Um, not bad." Frye replied with a cold expression and a slight upward curve at the corner of his mouth, "Later, I encountered some things, experienced some things, and became a night watchman." Klein didn't delve into others' privacy. Instead, he asked: "You were a priest of the goddess, then why didn't you choose 'The Waker'?" "A personal reason." Frye replied frankly, "And Ms. Daly is a good role model." Klein nodded, about to change the topic, but heard Frye say: "Please keep an eye on this for me. I must immediately hand over the portrait to the captain... Closing the secret door is troublesome." "OK." Although Klein was somewhat afraid of facing the corpse alone, he still managed to agree. As Fry left, the room became quiet. The corpse lay there, weighing heavily on Klein's mind. He took a deep breath and tried to approach the long table as if he could conquer himself. The tailcoat clown lay quietly, pale-faced, eyes closed, with all life gone. Apart from the grotesque wound, he also emitted the unique coldness of a dead person. Klein gazed for a while, and his mood gradually settled down, seeming to calm down. His gaze swept over, and he noticed a strange mark on the wrist of the tailcoat clown. So, boldly, he reached out to touch it, wanting to turn it over to see it more clearly. The cold sensation just reached Klein's fingertips and immediately entered his brain. Suddenly, the pale, lifeless hand suddenly sprang up and grabbed his wrist. Gripping his wrist tightly!