Chapter 63: Klein Cheerfully Courts Death in a Grand Way

Phew, successfully fooled another member—no, successfully recruited another member... Klein smiled and shook his head, self-mockingly evaluating the current strength of the Tarot Club.

Had it not been for the Simulated Universe, the "Fool" acting as the leader would merely be a Sequence 9, having just digested the "Seer" potion. Even factoring in Sealed Artifacts and Light Cones, he might not necessarily defeat a qualified Sequence 6. Meanwhile, the City of Silver, where "Sun" saw not a sliver of hope, possessed at least three high-sequence powerhouses of Sequence 4.

Klein did not linger above the gray fog. Extending his spirituality to wrap around himself, he plummeted downwards.

Piercing through the gray fog and bursting past the murmuring whispers, he returned to his room and dismantled the wall of spirituality.

After a moment's hesitation, Klein took out his phone and sent a message to Celris.

*Sweet Iced Tea for Big Bucks:* "Celris, do you know about the Forsaken Land of the Gods?"

Although using a Loen-alphabet keyboard, Klein still typed at lightning speed.

Having sent the question, Klein pocketed his phone, contemplated his upcoming advancement, and picked up his keys in preparation to leave.

With one more round of foreshadowing, he would be able to explain the situation to the Captain and submit a formal, special application.

He wondered if the Sealed Artifacts and Light Cones would undergo any changes after becoming a Clown. If not, they might face retirement thereafter.

Klein was somewhat reluctant to part with them; Beyonder items without negative side effects were exceedingly rare.

*Buzz.*

The phone vibrated.

Replying this early? Klein pulled out his phone again.

*Melancholy Sexy Boar Prince:* "The Forsaken Land of the Gods? I have a slight understanding of it. Roughly located a bit north-east of the Sonia Sea, bordering the Western Continent. What's wrong?"

The Western Continent? Klein raised an eyebrow, temporarily setting the term aside.

*Sweet Iced Tea for Big Bucks:* "Just curious."

*Sweet Iced Tea for Big Bucks:* "Do you have any detailed intelligence regarding the Forsaken Land of the Gods?"

After all, he was the designated future savior and chosen son appointed by that primal Celris herself. Asking for some intelligence posed no problem at all.

*Melancholy Sexy Boar Prince:* "The Forsaken Land of the Gods? That wretched place is an absolute mess."

*Melancholy Sexy Boar Prince:* "That rotten place is riddled with corruption, monsters, and lightning. There is no daytime, only perpetual night. The creatures inside must constantly remain in illuminated areas, or else they will be subjected to the [ concealment ]."

This aligned fundamentally with Derrick's description, Klein nodded inwardly.

*Melancholy Sexy Boar Prince:* "It remains unknown how many survivors are left in the Forsaken Land of the Gods, but that place is the sanctuary of the True Creator, lingering with at least three angels. If there are still inhabitants, they presumably worship the Ancient Sun God—the so-called Creator of all things, the omniscient and omnipotent God."

Klein had basically confirmed that Derrick was indeed situated within the Forsaken Land of the Gods. However, what astonished him even more was the Masked Fool's capacity for gathering intelligence, and the fact that the Forsaken Land of the Gods actually harbored three angels.

This was intelligence even the Nighthawks lacked. At least, Klein, as a bottom-tier Nighthawk, could never uncover it.

*Sweet Iced Tea for Big Bucks:* "Understood, thank you."

*Melancholy Sexy Boar Prince:* "You're welcome."

*Melancholy Boar Prince:* "[Pam Heart.jpg]"

Putting away his phone and pulling open the door, Klein and the others were currently resolving a case involving a wraith. At this moment, Captain Dunn and the Nighthawk post-mortem attendant Frye were waiting for him at the inn.

Upon returning to the inn, he unsurprisingly found Dunn and Frye exchanging the intelligence each had gathered.

"It can be confirmed that the wraith only appeared within the past two or three months," Dunn said, casting a glance at Klein who had just opened the door and entered, before delivering his conclusion.

The newly arrived Klein immediately chimed in, submitted the mission to Dunn, and gained an increase in his Nighthawk faction reputation. He also temporarily acquired the key prop for the subsequent mission: "Mutated Sun Holy Emblem."

Frye detached the "Mutated Sun Holy Emblem" from the inner lining of his thin black windbreaker and handed it to Klein.

Curious, Klein took it, feeling the metallic texture of the emblem to be warm and smooth, as if hot water were flowing within. The warm and gentle radiance radiated outward like ripples, carrying a pure scent.

"A metal that glows? Surely it's not radioactive, is it?" Klein's thoughts inexplicably drifted off-course.

Following that, Klein felt the dark golden holy emblem bearing the sun symbol continuously wash over his spirituality, purging impurities and leaving behind purity.

He felt as though some gene within his body had been activated, suddenly making him restless and desperately eager to court death.

Well, I'll divine this Sun Holy Emblem in a bit.

Klein's subsequent mission was to remain in place.

"If anyone approaches, drive them away," Frye reminded him with a chilling and gloomy tone. "Two hours from now, I'll come to relieve you."

Frye began frantically setting up flags, though he severely underestimated the unique dual nature of recklessness and cowardice inherent to the Tarot Club.

"No problem." Upholding the principle of creating difficulties when none existed, Klein replied with a smile.

Watching Frye walk into the town, he located the semi-tall stone he had spotted earlier, picked a nearby leaf, and wiped its surface clean. Then, he touched the top of the stone with his finger and observed his fingertip under the crimson moonlight for a few moments.

Confirming everything was in order, Klein hitched up his black thin windbreaker and sat right down upon it.

Lord Klein was also a man of dignity and could not afford to lose his composure.

Besides, this outfit was terribly expensive.

After a few minutes of quiet, he gazed into the dim, silent, gloomy, and terrifying small grove.

The more Klein thought about it, the more restless he felt.

He had performed a brief divination just moments ago, indicating there should be no danger shortly.

But how could that do! If there was no danger at all, wouldn't Frye's flag have been set in vain?

The soul of courting death burning fiercely in Klein's heart compelled him to stand up. Reaching into various hidden pockets inside his clothing, he pulled out different small metal vials, sprinkling a circle of herbal powder and essential oil dew around the stone.

Immediately after, Klein chanted an incantation in Hermes language, channeling his material components to unleash a surge of spirituality, sealing off the area where he stood.

Then he could not help but begin pondering the Sun Holy Emblem, wishing he could gaze a flower into bloom upon it.

Cats were simply like this; once bored, they would devise ways to court death for fun.

He first attempted divination, but due to his current amateurish skill, he divined absolutely nothing.

Next, he began looking around, stealthily taking four steps counter-clockwise above the gray fog.

Heh, if you don't finish me off today, this won't be over.

He materialized the Sun Holy Emblem above the gray fog and once again divined its origin.

Joyfully transforming into a paragon of "experimentation."

Under the empowerment of the gray fog, Klein delved deeper bit by bit, gradually comprehending this emblem.

Realizing it originated from a drop of golden blood.

Realizing that this drop of golden blood came from...

A naked golden man.

The naked man abruptly turned his head back, wearing a philosophical smile.

What on earth are you looking at?

Boom!

Klein's spirit body ignited instantly above the gray fog.

Gah! How fierce!

The mysterious space above the gray fog shook violently; the towering and magnificent palace collapsed inch by inch, and the ancient, mottled bronze long table was battered into craters and broken into several sections.

"Awooo!" Klein transformed into Michael Jackson, rolling and howling amidst the flames.

This terrifying transformation lasted merely three seconds before the gray fog above restored its silence, as if nothing had ever happened.

The golden flames enveloping Klein gradually extinguished. He rolled and shrieked with a charred surface until his capacity for thought preliminarily returned.

Roasted to medium-well, Klein propped himself up on the armrests of the high-backed chair, stood up with trembling effort, and staggered back to his seat, overwhelmed by a mix of terror and bewilderment regarding his recent ordeal.

Humbled now, please spare me.