Chapter 174 The Suppressed Tarot Club
Backlund, Cherwood District, 15 Minsk Street.
Klein, using the alias Sherlock Moriarty, used Holy Night Powder to set up the spiritual wall. He took a deep breath, walked four steps backwards, and arrived at the ancient palace above the gray fog.
Although he had confirmed it countless times, he still couldn't help but cast his gaze towards the starry sky deep in the gray fog.
Three crimson stars were hanging in the sky, one of which was flashing regularly, as if it was waiting for a response from Mr. Sun.
Oh, what am I expecting...
Klein blinked quickly to calm himself down, then extended his spiritual power toward the star representing the "sun."
…
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fool, and everyone..."
Miss Justice was the first to greet everyone, but she immediately noticed that the high-backed chair next to her where Miss "Queen" had been sitting was still empty.
The Hanged Man and the Sun across from her also gave her a puzzled look, and then they all looked at Mr. Fool at the head of the long table.
"Miss Queen...she asked me for leave and won't be attending the Tarot Club for the next few weeks."
Klein felt everyone's gaze and answered before anyone asked.
He originally wanted to say that the "Queen" had left the Tarot Club for some reason, but when the words came to his lips, they turned into "asking for leave".
Looking at the empty high-back chair belonging to Angel, Klein sighed.
"You guys go ahead."
"Yes, Mr. Fool."
The remaining three participants responded in unison.
It's strange that Miss Queen was absent from the Tarot Club, and Mr. Fool didn't even announce the specific time of her leave. Did something happen to her?
The Hanged Man, Alger Wilson, looked at the high-backed chair next to Justice, his mind churning.
It seems I need to send someone to Tingen City to ask Hagrid of "Wild Heart" about this. Before, out of respect for her privacy, I didn't ask for the fake identity information she obtained, but now the situation is different. If something happens to Miss Queen, it may expose the Tarot Club to the public...
He suddenly felt Mr. Fool's gaze on him.
"Mr. Fool, thank you for sending your followers to help me eliminate Qilingos. I have left Backlund and returned to the sea. Next week, I will bring you all the Roselle diaries I can obtain."
The Hanged Man immediately stood up, bent over, touched his chest, saluted the Fool, and said, but his back felt cold.
“It’s just the principle of equal exchange.”
The Fool responded softly, looking away from the Hanged Man.
Zhengyi looked curiously at the Hanged Man who was obviously a little panicked, then looked at the Sun beside him who seemed to have noticed nothing, and frowned slightly.
The most dull and depressing Tarot meeting began.
——————
"Could it be that the mark on my right palm disappeared because of the explosion caused by the 'Shattering Light Ray' when I used 'Thirst for Blood' last time?"
Repeatedly observing his right palm under the light, Angel finally confirmed that the mark on his palm that emitted a deep red light every time he entered the gray fog space of the Tarot Club had disappeared without a trace.
Perhaps because of this, the mysterious Mr. Fool had severed contact with her, so when she convened a Tarot meeting, she was no longer among the participants.
"I don't know whether this is good or bad..."
Angel muttered.
There was no doubt that Mr. Fool and the other members of the Tarot Club had been of immense assistance to her in the field of occult studies. From the channels for creating fake identities after her time travel, to exchanging occult knowledge and secret information from around the world, to even the extraordinary materials needed to advance to Sequence 7, some of these came from Miss Justice of the Tarot Club.
However, being under constant scrutiny from a high-ranking being of unknown origin carries a great risk. Old Neil lost control and died because he accidentally came into contact with the "Hidden Sage" and learned forbidden knowledge.
Although Mr. Fool's Tarot Club seemed to be just "an attempt" and he never showed any malice towards the participants, this pressure has always existed in Angel's heart, and she believes that other participants have the same feeling.
"Perhaps if I chant the Fool's honorable name and pray to Him now, I can still join the Tarot Club?"
She looked at her right hand hesitantly, but caught a glimpse of the Holy Emblem of the Night Goddess hanging on the yellow crystal pendant.
By the way, I am now under the protection of the "Secret Holy Symbol"...
After careful consideration, Angel gave up praying to the Fool at this time.
If he accidentally destroyed the effect of this holy emblem, not only would infiltrating the Witch Cult become impossible, but even his current whereabouts would be discovered. The best outcome would be a desperate escape from Backlund.
I can only wait until I join the Witch Cult and get rid of my identity crisis before I find an opportunity to recite Mr. Fool's name...
Angel sighed, stood up from the sofa, and looked out the window at the gradually darkening sky.
————
Bubbles were gurgling in the big pot on the stove, and the deep red liquid gradually concentrated and became viscous.
Angel put down the two "sleeping spells" he had made, removed the spiritual wall, and came to the steaming pot. He sniffed the smell coming from the pot, which gradually changed from a stench to a strong smell of blood.
Only when the whole pot of medicine made with her blood became a plaster stuck to the bottom of the pot did Angel scoop them out with a spoon and store them in an opaque glass bottle.
After filling two glass bottles, she evenly spread the remaining ointment on a palm-sized portable mirror, painting the smooth mirror surface deep red and infusing it with spirituality.
The plaster seemed to come alive and quickly seeped into the dressing mirror, allowing the mirror to reflect her beautiful face again.
Thus was completed a magic mirror that established a mystical connection with her.
Angel kept the magic mirror, which had both divination and life-saving functions, close to his body, and placed the two "sleeping spells" together with the spare ammunition. He extinguished the fire, packed up the tools in the basement, and returned to the living room on the first floor.
It was already late at night the next day. During the day, she ran around the surrounding herbal medicine shops and jewelry stores and bought all the materials needed to make the spiritual ointment. She also bought some plant powders and essential oils needed for the ceremony, as well as silver sheets needed to make talismans, spending a full 10 pounds.
Adding in the six months' rent she had prepaid, the food expenses for the past two days, and the cost of buying clothes and daily necessities, she only had 15 pounds left of the 48 pounds and 15 soli she had when she arrived in Backlund.
If she doesn't find a new job soon, Angel will soon be destitute and forced to use the savings she keeps in an anonymous bank account.
"That 1,000 pounds... no, I have to deduct the 350 pounds for Miss Justice... The remaining 650 pounds is what I'm planning to use to buy Sequence 6 potions. I can't spend it lightly. It seems I can only find ways to make some money while searching for clues about the 'Witch Cult'."
As for how to find the Witch Cult, Angel has some ideas by recalling Cole Granger's memories and some information revealed by Mrs. Sharon, but this is destined to be a long-term task, and first of all, she has to find a way to survive in this city.
Looking at the spacious and bright living room, she suddenly felt that it was a bit extravagant for her to spend 20 pounds to rent a two-story house.
"Maybe I should rent a one-bedroom apartment in the East End or the Docklands. Even though the environment there is bad, the rent can be reduced by at least two-thirds..."
Heartbroken about the precious gold pounds flowing from her pocket into Mrs. Wallis's, Angel took a quick shower and went back to the master bedroom on the second floor to get into the warm bed.
…
"Ka-la, ka-la..."
The subtle sound of metal colliding and rubbing woke Angel from his light sleep.
At this time, the window was still shrouded in crimson moonlight.
She instinctively reached under her pillow and grasped the revolver before regaining consciousness.
Listening carefully to the noise downstairs, she could tell it was the sound of the lock picking tool struggling with the lock.
"The spirit didn't warn me, and the magic mirror didn't issue a warning. It seems the other party isn't a Beyonder. Could it be a thief who broke in and picked the lock in the middle of the night?"
I didn't expect that after only two days in Backlund, I would encounter a thief that I hadn't encountered in Tingen for two months.
Secretly amused, Angel picked up his pistol, took out a "Sleeping Charm", activated the assassin's ability to sneak into the shadows, and walked downstairs barefoot and silently.
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