Chapter 21: Here We Celebrate the Birth of the Imaginary Dog.

"Oh, quite a distinctive pendant," Klein remarked.

"Thank you, it's a new friend of mine," Old Neil replied with a soft chuckle.

"Ah? Er... the friend you've made, Old Neil, seems a bit... well, unique." Klein's tone shifted, a hint of concern creeping in. Was Old Neil suffering from early-onset dementia?

Old Neil’s voice remained warm: "Little Klein, never let worldly prejudice cloud your eyes."

"Do you know, Little Klein, I have a dream? A dream that here in the Kingdom of Loen, the son of a trash can might one day sit at the table with the son of a human, as brothers."

With that, Old Neil began to teach Klein about the "pendulum method," a form of divination.

...

Inside a private chemistry laboratory fully equipped with instruments and supplies, Cielris crouched in a corner, camera in hand.

He was here, once again, to witness a legendary moment. Although he currently looked like a perverted stalker, he simply could not bring himself to miss the birth of the great "Dog of Imagination."

In the room, the tall, golden-haired Audrey gazed at the cup in her hands. Countless bubbles rose to the surface, casting a tranquil atmosphere over the space.

Finally, the liquid in the cup settled into a silvery-white potion.

"Haha, I truly have a gift for mysticism! It worked on the first try! I was so worried about failure that I had prepared two whole sets of materials!" the young lady whispered to herself in delight.

[The Daoist has succeeded! The Daoist has succeeded! I have refined the elixir of immortality!]

She packed away the various leftover materials—some taken from the family treasury, some traded for—took a deep breath, and prepared to close her eyes and drink the "Spectator" potion.

Just then, the sound of barking—"woof, woof, woof"—drifted in from outside the lab, and Audrey’s brow furrowed. She placed the cup, with its gently shimmering silvery liquid, into a dark corner, turned, and walked to the door.

"Susie, who is it?" Audrey turned the handle, asking the golden retriever sitting obediently at the doorway.

[How bold! How dare a mere potion-testing maid question us, the great Dog of Imagination!]

The Dog of Imagination was still weak at this stage, so it had to choose "forbearance" in the face of the "arrogant" potion-testing maid. Susie, the golden retriever, wagged her tail with a flattering expression. Her personal maid, Anne, appeared in the nearby corridor.

Audrey stepped out of the lab, pulled the door shut behind her, and looked at Anne. "Didn't I tell you? Do not disturb me when I am conducting chemistry experiments."

Anne replied, looking troubled: "But there is an invitation from the Duchess, from Lady Dera."

[I see. The great Dog of Imagination planted the seeds of this diversion long ago. As expected of Lady Susie, starting her path as a writer so early on. Truly terrifying!]

"Duchess Negan’s wife?" Audrey took a few steps forward, approaching Anne.

"Yes, she has invited the court baker, Madame Vivi, and has invited your mother and you to enjoy afternoon tea," Anne explained the contents of the invitation.

Audrey puffed out her cheeks imperceptibly. "Tell my mother I feel dizzy. Perhaps the sunlight is too strong; I’m a bit dehydrated. Please ask her to apologize to Lady Dera on my behalf."

As she spoke, she feigned weakness. During her etiquette lessons, her tutor had taught her exactly how to faint gracefully.

[She can even dehydrate herself at will! Is the infiltration of the Three-Body Problem into Earth already this deep?]

"Miss, this is not just afternoon tea; it is a literary salon," Anne added.

"That still won't cure my dizziness. I need to rest," Audrey refused firmly.

Meanwhile, she silently recited to herself: If I insist, I will faint right in front of you. My etiquette teacher said I perform this move perfectly... Wait, did I hear something?

[You didn't expect this, did you? This is Lady Susie’s path to advancement!]

"Very well," Anne sighed. "Do you need me to help you back to your room?"

"No, I need to clean up the laboratory first." Audrey longed to return immediately and consume the potion, but she restrained herself, watched Anne walk away, and then turned back to the lab door.

Suddenly, she realized that Susie, the golden retriever who should have been outside, was nowhere to be seen, and the lab door was left half-open.

[I have been reborn. Reborn the day before Audrey consumes the potion. This time, I will personally take back everything that belongs to me!]

"Ah, I forgot Susie knows how to open doors with handles... What is that sound? Oh no!" Hearing a crisp noise from within, Audrey had a sudden, terrible association and rushed into the laboratory.

What met her eyes was a shattered cup on the floor, the last drop of silvery-white liquid being licked away by the golden retriever, and Susie, tilting her head with a crooked, smug grin.

The three-year cycle has ended; welcome the return of the Dog King.

Audrey stood frozen at the doorway, like a statue. Susie immediately sat down, looking at her mistress with an innocent expression, and began to wag her tail.

Cielris recorded this scene with his camera.

We praise this moment: the birth of the Dog of Imagination.

Some time later, Audrey, trembling with trepidation, completed a second brewing. Looking at the potion, which appeared no different from the first, she was so moved she nearly shed tears.

To avoid any further complications, Audrey poured the potion into her mouth and refined it in an instant.

...

Time flew by, and a few days later, at a banquet.

In the massive banquet hall, burning candles stood atop several chandeliers, emitting a pleasant fragrance and accumulating a light that rivaled gas lamps.

Meanwhile, Klein dropped a coin into the gas meter.

Long tables were laden with delicious foods: pan-seared foie gras, roast beef, roast chicken, pan-fried sole, Dicy oysters, braised lamb, creamy soup, and more. Bottles of Misty Champagne, Ormiere wine, and South Wales red wine sat nearby, their colors alluring under the glow of the lights.

Having just mastered a new ritual magic, Klein was in high spirits and decided that tonight’s dinner would be broth with white bread.

Servants in red vests shuttled between elegant and gorgeously dressed gentlemen and ladies, carrying trays of crystal glasses.

Klein stretched and stood up from the sofa, walking to the kitchen to check what ingredients remained.

Audrey Hall wore a pale white dress with a high collar, high waist, and leg-o'-mutton sleeves. Her upper body was tightly laced, her waist cinched extremely thin, and the multi-layered cake-style skirt was perfectly supported by a whalebone hoop.

Her long golden hair was elegantly pinned up; her earrings, necklace, and rings all sparkled brilliantly. On her feet were white dance shoes adorned with roses and diamonds.

Klein shook the dust off his windbreaker and hung it on the coat rack.

Audrey did not place herself at the center of the banquet as she usually did, becoming the focus of everyone’s attention. Instead, she avoided the crowd and stood quietly in the shadow of the floor-to-ceiling curtains.

She had become the master (pseudo) behind the curtain of shadows.

She took a sip of champagne, looking at the people before her with a sense of detachment, a pose that did not belong here.

Her spirituality suddenly stirred. She whipped her head around, looking toward the spacious balcony outside the window, toward the dark corner of the balcony.

Within that shadow, a large golden dog sat quietly, watching inside with deep, tranquil eyes—watching Audrey. Half of its body was hidden in the darkness.

Audrey could not help but think of the poem written by Emperor Roselle: You stand on the bridge watching the scenery, while the person watching the scenery watches you from the building.

"Susie..." The corner of Audrey’s mouth twitched. Her expression collapsed instantly; she could no longer maintain the "Spectator" state.

She averted her gaze and walked toward a few young ladies who were chatting.

She had to complete the commission for Mr. "Devil."

It’s just a task from Mr. Devil (sigh).

P.S. The author will sneakily pin the good reviews (secretly).