Of course, it was also possible this was a "bait message"; there were quite a few Beyonders and even ordinary people who knew the name of the Sequence 9 potion, and one did not need to know the full formula to publish selling information.
And this kind of transaction between strangers, with no third-party guarantee, not even being able to judge whether the obtained formula or ingredients were real or fake, carried extremely high risk.
Angel had in her mind the complete potion knowledge left by Cole, from "Assassin" to "Witch," and had no need for the formula itself. She only needed those two main ingredients. If she could choose, she would prefer to buy them one by one from different people, rather than pin her hopes on vague information and gamble on the other party's conscience.
As long as she could obtain the two main ingredients, and then purchase auxiliary materials from ordinary herb shops or alchemy stores—or even go to the Night Watchers' warehouse and collect some under the pretense of "making charms"—she could immediately recreate the "Instigator" potion in her mind.
Unfortunately, after combing the entire trading market and the entire message board, only this one clue pointed toward the "Instigator." Even if it was a trap, she could only grit her teeth and jump in.
At most, tie a rope around herself.
Fortunately, the message specified the meeting time was tomorrow afternoon, no need to rush.
Of course, Angel had not ruled out the idea of acquiring potion materials through the Church of the Goddess of the Night, but firstly, she couldn't explain how she knew the follow-up potion formula for "Assassin"; and secondly, completing the "Assassin" role-play within a month was too shocking and would inevitably attract the attention of the church's upper echelons.
To take such risks, she'd rather secretly save money and buy materials on her own, then reveal her advancement when the time was right.
She scanned the message board again, found no other useful information, then pretended to walk a circle and returned to the staircase from the wall, blending back into the crowd heading to the third floor and approaching the spot specified by the "Justice" message.
Most customers coming to trade items were heading deep into the market, so besides the patrolling guards near the staircase, only passersby were walking by, making the two people standing at the nearest stall to the stairs appear very conspicuous.
Angel observed the two for two minutes. Seeing that the man and woman showed no sign of leaving, and there were no others fitting the "Justice" message's description nearby, she took a deep breath and stepped forward.
The moment she saw the woman, she was sure: this "Justice" was not that "Justice."
In the gray fog space constructed by Mr. Fool, when the members met for the first time, they were all standing. Based on her own height, Angel could estimate the figures of the other two. Miss "Justice" was about 1.7 meters tall with long hair over her shoulders.
Whereas this self-proclaimed "Justice" didn't even look like an adult, shorter than 1.6 meters, half a head shorter than Angel, with brown hair tied into a lively short ponytail, and wearing a long dress commonly seen in Emmat Port, blending the Ruen Kingdom and Bayam styles.
Unless the "Spectator" potion could distort others' perceptions of a Beyonder's height and hairstyle, this person definitely wasn't the Tarot Club's "Justice."
While Angel observed the two, the tall man speaking quietly with the woman swept a wary glance toward her. He quickly noticed someone approaching, stopped speaking, and moved his body in front of the woman, blocking Angel's path.
"Sorry, I'm here for the transaction. May I ask if she is Miss 'Justice'?"
Angel didn't want unnecessary conflict. Seeing the man was extremely alert, she stopped quickly, raising both hands from under her cloak to show she meant no harm.
"She is. What business do you have?"
The man didn't lower his guard, replying with a grim face.
He was about 24 or 25, short black hair, wearing a black vest over a white shirt. His legs looked slim under fitted trousers. If not for the revolver openly strapped at his waist, he'd look like a rich family's servant.
Looks like this was Miss "Justice"'s bodyguard. No wonder a young woman looking only 16 or 17 dared show up alone at night in this chaotic market. And being able to hire an armed bodyguard—this "Justice" was just as wealthy as the Tarot Club's "Justice"...
As Angel quickly analyzed their identities, the bodyguard's expression turned increasingly impatient, seemingly ready to erupt the next second. Angel hurriedly introduced herself.
"I'm the seller who left her a message on the board this afternoon—I have 'Starlight Crystal' for sale…"
Before she finished, "Justice" peeked out from behind her bodyguard and said excitedly:
"Great! I've been waiting a long time—I thought you wouldn't come."
"Sorry, I was delayed a bit on the way, and I just went to check the board again."
Angel offered a perfunctory apology, but didn't think much of it. She had left a two-hour time window, and this was still within the agreed time.
"Should we go somewhere quieter or just trade here?"
Seeing the girl didn't press the lateness, she returned to the topic.
"Let's do it here. Hand over the goods and take the money, with guards watching—it's safer for both of us."
"How many grams of 'Starlight Crystal' do you have?"
It was still the bodyguard who answered. "Justice" seemed inexperienced but trusted her bodyguard greatly.
Angel took out several pieces of Starlight Crystal wrapped in cloth. Most were acquired at Tingen City's trading market for crafting special bullets; a small part came from leftover materials from Old Neal. Because they came from different sources, they varied in size and shape—four or five fragments in total, totaling 40 grams.
She poured the shimmering crystals into her palm, held them out briefly, then withdrew her hand. These were worth around 160 pounds at Tingen's "Dragon Tavern" market—no way she'd hand them over without caution.
"Yep! It's real Starlight Crystal, same as what I bought this morning. How much is there total?"
The brown-haired girl smiled sincerely, as if she saw the potion she was going to drink shining from within the crystals.
She already bought some this morning?
Angel remembered the "Seer" potion required 50 grams. She thought her 40 grams might not be enough, but it seemed the girl had already sourced part of it elsewhere. She just didn't know how much was still needed…
"Altogether 40 grams—price is 200 pounds. Not sold separately."
Angel had originally planned to ask for a bit of a markup—maybe 180 pounds—but seeing the buyer so eager, she silently raised the price a bit more.
The bodyguard opened his mouth to say something, but the girl behind him already nodded eagerly: "Okay, no problem. I'll take it all."
"...Let's go over there and weigh it. If the weight checks out, we'll finalize the trade."
The black-haired bodyguard gave up on haggling and pointed at a communal balance scale beside the armed guard.
Angel, prepared for a round of bargaining, was surprised the buyer agreed so easily.
"O-okay."
They walked over to the table with the balance scale. Under "Justice"'s eager gaze, Angel poured out the crystals; the bodyguard carefully placed the weights on the other side.
"Correct. It's 40 grams."
The balance held steady between four 10-gram weights and the crystals, and "Justice" beamed.
Looks like that was about the amount she still needed...
Angel held the bag in one hand, palm open in the other, not looking at "Justice" but instead at her bodyguard.
This naïve girl didn't seem like the one managing the money.
The black-haired bodyguard glanced at "Justice," and after her confirming nod, pulled out a wallet from inside his vest, counted out 200 pounds in bills, and exchanged them for the bag of crystals.
Angel counted the money carefully under the light and checked each watermark before placing them in her coat pocket. "No problem, I've received the 200 pounds."
"Justice" also checked the crystals with her bodyguard's help; the faint starry glow lit up her young face, making her seem mysterious.
"I'm good too."
The bodyguard still had a sour look, probably unhappy his lady completed the deal without bargaining, but since she confirmed, he nodded at Angel.
The deal succeeded—not collapsing from argument or suspicion—both sides breathed easier. Seeing "Justice" was still cheerful, Angel took the chance to ask her doubt:
"Miss 'Justice,' may I ask—are you part of a group called the 'Tarot Club'?"
"Tarot Club…"
The girl seemed to fall into some memory—first thoughtful, then angry.
"I did participate in a so-called 'Tarot Club,' claiming to be a mysterious private gathering, but it was full of pretenders pretending to know things. They asked me to fund magical rituals that were half-baked and extremely expensive. If it hadn't been for Mr. Wilson of the Storm Church exposing them, I'd still be in the dark."
"But I quite liked the name they gave me, so I kept it."
Looks like she was satisfied with the codename "Justice"… As expected, this so-called "Tarot Club" was a knockoff—using the mysticism gimmick to scam rich young people. No wonder the local Night Watchers investigated once and then stopped following up.
Speaking of which, this girl's experience wasn't unlike that of the real Miss "Justice." If not for her meeting Mr. Fool—and us, the Hanged Man—she might have also been scammed into a strange organization, buying fake potions and paying to learn a hard lesson...
Now that she confirmed the "Tarot Club Emmat Port Branch" was a counterfeit, Angel finally let go of her lingering worry, replaced by pride for the real Tarot Club.
"Then I really should thank this Mr. Wilson."
Angel echoed her words, giving a mental thumbs-up to the kind stranger who had unknowingly helped destroy the fake Tarot Club.