Disaster!
Klein's pupils dilate as he presses himself against the carriage's edge. Regret surges through him—regret for his reckless pursuit. He recalls vividly that both the Tarot Club discussions and the Nighthawk archives unanimously describe one thing about the Aurora Order: every member is a deranged lunatic.
I'm done for… The thought flashes through his mind, followed by a primal instinct to survive. Biting his lower lip, his body tenses, mind racing to piece together the situation.
Why would a wealthy, generous gentleman single him out right after he acquired the Antigonus family notebook? Why would a routine business deal involve such warmth toward a company employee? The target is him. Did his "death and revival" disrupt their plans, drawing the Aurora Order's attention?
Seeing Klein's tight-lipped silence, I smile. "A few days ago, when you investigated Hanass Vincent… when your captain entered his dream, you saw the True Creator, didn't you?"
How does he know? No, wait! Klein blurts out, "How do you know about the captain? What does the Aurora Order want?"
"Let me correct you, Klein," I say calmly, unfazed by his agitation. "First, the Aurora Order bears no ill will toward you. Don't deny it—think. Your captain faced the True Creator directly and emerged unscathed. Doesn't that prove our lack of malice? If I meant harm, would I be acting like this?"
"I'll admit, the Aurora Order's past deeds are indefensible. But haven't you noticed? Since you 'transmigrated' into Klein's body, their activities have nearly ceased."
That… makes sense, Klein muses, but he remains wary, eyeing me silently.
"Before you arrived, the True Creator was lost to madness. Your presence gave me a chance to slip past the gods' gazes and help Him separate His insanity," I say, weaving a deliberately misleading tale. "Or do you really think a god could weaken to the point of malice against mortals without killing them?"
Oh, there are… Heh, this 'Fool' posing as a god is barely Sequence 9, Klein thinks bitterly. Sorting through my words, he asks cautiously, "How did you find me? And why does the True Creator want me?"
"Answer me first. What's your name, Klein? As a fellow 'transmigrator,' I've shared my true name. It's a bit rude to hold back, no? I get your Nighthawk distrust of the Aurora Order, but at least trust me a little on this," I say, gazing steadily at him. When Klein persists with questions, I stay silent. Realizing my resolve, he weighs his options and asks, "Will you tell me what you were planning before?"
"Given our shared identity, I will. It's no great secret," I say with a smile. "We're among the few in this world who speak the same language. But one thing, Klein—I'm not with the Aurora Order. Nor is the deity behind me the True Creator. Quite the opposite—my deity's alliance with Him is why I came to you."
A deity? Well, I accessed that mysterious gray fog space, so it's no surprise other transmigrators have their own 'cheats'… Wait, does the True Creator think I, the fake 'Fool,' am another deity, and Klein Moretti is my spokesperson, so they're seeking a partnership with the 'Fool' behind me? I'm innocent!
"Zhou. My surname was Zhou. Before coming here, I was Zhou Mingrui," Klein mutters, his guard still up. "Now, can you tell me why?"
"The reason?" I nod. "Because you and I are both favored by the True Creator."
"?"
In the Forsaken Land, the True Creator gapes at the scene on the light screen. Turning to me, the High-Dimensional Overseer, He mutters, "Saying it so bluntly… can that really… make Klein warm to us?"
"Relax. A spooked cat needs coaxing," my avatar says to Him. "It's your Aurora Order's infamous reputation causing this. Lies can cover the moment, but not forever. Seers are cunning as ghosts—well, except that one Storm pathway exchange student. Sometimes, you've got to be upfront. Tell him the truth, and he'll figure it out."
The True Creator falls silent, and I flash a smile. But my human self protests inwardly: Hey! Can I skip these awkward jobs next time? I'm the High-Dimensional Overseer, not some other god! I don't enjoy this cringe. Can't I just watch the 'plot' unfold?
"I'm having fun," my true form retorts, hidden behind my veil, watching my human self fume. After a pause, I add, "Fine. Once the True Creator regains sanity, I'll deploy the Hollow Shell to this planet. Then you can do more of what you want. Just share your sensations with us—otherwise, we'll get bored."
"…" My human self flips me off.
"What did you say?" Klein struggles to keep his face neutral, barely masking his shock. I'm the evil god's favored? A meme from his internet days echoes in his mind: Three years, then three more—if you don't close the net soon, I'll be running the show.
But the irony stings. He, a Nighthawk, is now told he's the favored of the True Creator, the deity of the world's most dangerous cult?
"Don't tell me you think divine favor is valuable," I scoff, feigning ignorance. "Sure, to devout believers, maybe. But to us, from that era, what's it worth? I'm favored by both the True Creator and my own deity. You… you're likely favored by that gray fog's master, right?"
No… I'm actually the gray fog's master, at least for now… Klein's thoughts spiral, but my words reveal a secret: "Ever read Roselle Gustav's diaries? In his later years, his rift with the God of Craftsmanship stemmed from the god's favor toward His child."
Klein senses blasphemy in my tone—not cursing gods, but dismissing them entirely. A faint glow emanates from me, severing my occult connections from the world, emboldening my audacity.
Klein stares, sensing familiarity in the glow, like the gray fog he ascends to daily. Is this the power his deity grants? Or… is he like me, posing as a great being but unable to admit it?
"Emperor Roselle?" Klein follows my lead, probing for more. "How do you know about him? Have you read his diaries?"
"So you've seen Roselle's diaries too…" I stroke my chin. "Ever come across a particularly memorable line?"
"What?" Klein blinks, struggling to keep up with my rapid shifts in thought and speech.
"You haven't, then," I say, disappointed. "A pity. If you had, you'd quote it instantly. Roselle had a little-known saying: 'The Taste of Demoness still isnt bad.' He wrote it in his diary, but you probably missed that page."
I sigh, as if lamenting.
"?!" Klein, listening intently, nearly chokes. He stares, incredulous, as Roselle's image as a "transmigrator role model" crumbles.
"If I recall… the Demoness Pathway? Roselle was involved with their members?" He recalls Nighthawk records, shocked. I only smile, knowing young Klein is too naive to grasp the Demoness pathway's true secrets.
"We're here. Come in," I say as the carriage stops. Klein steps down, warily scanning the surroundings. It's just an ordinary house—no sinister altars or scheming cultists. More like a cozy home than a cult hideout. Though he knows appearances deceive, Klein relaxes slightly.
"Alright, Mr. Z. You have thirteen hours to leave Tingen. After that, the Punishers will lock down the city, targeting Aurora Order members. If Backlund doesn't confirm your arrival, you'll be marked dead."
"I understand, Your Excellency," Mr. Z bows slightly.
"Good luck," I say calmly. "As an envoy, I doubt you'd risk so much to save a few Secret Supplicants of questionable faith."
"…Sorry," Mr. Z whispers. "I don't want the Lord's devotees to die needlessly."
"Your envoy's impressive," I, the High-Dimensional Overseer, say to the True Creator in the Forsaken Land. "Your shift in demeanor alone sparked such loyalty—proof of his devotion. But it's not enough."
"Yes…" the True Creator murmurs, His humanity's madness creeping back. "Not enough, not enough…"
My avatar sits in the Forsaken Land, watching darkness ripple in the air. I smile as the True Creator wrestles sanity and madness.
"So, Klein? Not a bad place, right?" I settle casually into the living room, gesturing for Klein to sit anywhere. Smiling at his hesitation, I say, "Ask whatever's on your mind. Some things I can't share, naturally. I know the Aurora Order's reputation is… well, rough. Chinese don't scam Chinese—I get how tough it is landing in a strange world. I'll answer what I can."
Questions? Klein has a mountain of them. But this man is favored by the True Creator and another unknown evil god. Even as a fellow "hometown" native, Klein can't trust my intentions. Back in his old life, he knew to stay cautious—how much more so with this enigmatic stranger?
He can't gauge my Beyonder level or abilities. With Old Neil's case as a warning, he's unsure if I'm tainted by an evil god or stable, so he avoids potentially offensive questions.
As for our transmigration—or whether I've found a way home—Klein isn't ready to spill everything or fully trust me.
Though less paranoid than after facing death, Tingen-era Klein, shaped by his Chinese upbringing and internet savvy, is still plenty cautious—or, bluntly, a bit of a coward.
Steeling himself, Klein takes a deep breath and asks carefully, "Zekai… why do you say I'm the True Creator's favored?"
(End of Chapter)