"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era;
The Mysterious Ruler above the Gray Fog;
The King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck;
I thank your grace for granting me a splendid morning…"
The prayer, chanted in ancient Hermes, reverberated in the spiritually sealed room, echoing infinitely, as if soaring to the heavens.
Crack!
As if a sturdy shell had shattered, Snow felt a surge of mental clarity. A phantom breaking sound, paired with an odd sensation, enveloped his spirituality—like splashing water on a sauna stone. Waves of steam merged with his body, as if boundless heat flooded his being.
No explanation was needed. He knew his Buridan's Donkey potion had been fully digested.
"But the choice paralysis lingers faintly. Is it because I haven't fully acted as Buridan's Donkey? Or a side effect of forcibly embedding a mental imprint?" Snow mentally framed two options, instantly sensing his spirituality waver. He quickly flipped a coin, deciding on buttered toast for breakfast, stabilizing his spirit.
Though this instability was a vast improvement over nearly losing control at every choice, it wasn't enough to affect his mental state. Still, he opted against advancing to Pavlov's Dog, choosing instead to act as Buridan's Donkey to digest the residual effects.
As for how to act as Buridan's Donkey…
Face choices head-on and make the right decisions, of course!
With this realization, Snow ended his shut-in lifestyle, hanging a "Back in Business" sign on the door. As usual, he donned a half-high silk top hat and a high-collared double-breasted suit, his handsome face shadowed beneath the brim.
This time, he left Lily behind. First, she needed to act as an Assassin. Second, Lily was too distinctive—carrying her risked blowing his cover.
Taking a hackney carriage to Jowood District, he navigated to a modest house, swapping his attire for a flat cap and suspenders to blend with the working class before heading to Bridge District.
Simply put, Backlund's class divisions were stark. One glance at your clothes revealed your place. Snow, a West Borough resident, risked being questioned as a thief by patrolling police if dressed as a commoner. Conversely, strolling Bridge District in a suit invited robbery or relentless stares.
This explained Backlund's varied trading platforms. Mr. A's, at the West Borough-Queens District border, catered to nobles and the affluent.
Eye of Wisdom, Isengard Stanton's extraordinary gathering, was in Bridge District, serving risk-taking Beyonders.
This didn't mean Isengard's gathering was less prestigious than Mr. A's—their purposes differed.
Mr. A, acting as a Shepherd, sought quality over quantity, aiming to attract high-status followers.
Isengard, a Knowledge Keeper and detective, mingled with all sorts, prioritizing those desperate enough to sell extraordinary items. Adventurers, unlike cloistered nobles, were more likely to unearth valuable intelligence.
Following his predecessor's memories, Snow pushed open the Brave Bar's door. Amid the stench of sweat and liquor, he approached the counter, lowered his cap to shadow his disguised face, and slid a souler coin across.
"Is Kaspars here?"
The bartender swept the coin behind the counter, jerking his chin toward a corner. "Table Room Three."
"Thanks," Snow nodded, weaving past gamblers hyped up over dog-and-rat bets, and slipped into Table Room Three without knocking.
Two players, mid-game, snapped their heads up at the unannounced entry. Spotting Snow's slightly raised cap brim, the big-nosed, gray-haired man jammed his cue aside, grinning familiarly.
"Haven't seen you in ages. Thought you were dead!"
"I nearly thought so too!" Snow shrugged, his bitter smile emerging as the other player tactfully left. "Honestly, if the Waltz Party hadn't collapsed, I'd still be holed up in Tingen!"
"You should've come to me when you noticed you were being tailed, not left a letter and fled Backlund! A bit of cash could've fixed it. You just didn't trust me!" Kaspars's tone carried heat. To this old man, close with his predecessor, Snow only shook his head.
"It wasn't that simple. The Waltz Party had backers. Who knows if your contacts would've made things worse? You know my line of work needs connections. If my reputation tanked, I'd be done."
"Reputation? 'Vet Prince' is a reputation? Or 'Ladies' Slayer'? Your late dad spent his life chasing noble status, and you're just cozying up to noblewomen?" Kaspars's words cut deep. Snow gave a dry laugh, sidestepping.
"More importantly, about that gathering you mentioned…"
"Forget it for now!" Kaspars cut him off.
"The gathering's still on, but the vibe's off. You're asking because you heard rumors, right? Wait till things cool down."
Snow relaxed slightly—not because the gathering persisted, but because Kaspars proved trustworthy.
He'd come today after spotting a newspaper notice about Eye of Wisdom's gathering. Why ask Kaspars despite knowing the code? To test if this "friend" from his predecessor's memories was reliable.
Kaspars's warning confirmed his credibility. Snow smoothly adopted his predecessor's rapport, smiling.
"Fair enough. I'll wait."
(End of Chapter)
Author's Note: I don't know if low-tier extraordinary characteristics have a quantity limit, but low-Sequence Beyonders can theoretically increase infinitely (well, finitely, but far beyond Earth's population), as long as the corresponding true god wills it.
First, sefirot has a self-replenishing trait, noted in the original novel. Though it's unclear if this increases sefirot, it at least sustains characteristics and supports Old Ones.
In other words, with the ability to split sefirot, you could divide the Chaotic Sea into five parts, letting five families become Old Ones via new sefirot—though this would fragment omniscience and omnipotence.
I suspect the initial cycles of splitting and merging used this replenishment to "grow."
Splitting, replenishing, then reuniting might be a process from chaos to order. Once fully ordered, the Primordial no longer needs to split.
Second, per the author, the Western Continent's system involves "conferring" via sefirot, granting supernatural abilities without potions. This means characteristics aren't strictly needed to wield their power.
Thus, characteristics may be finite but sufficient for global Beyonders. With research, "sharing characteristics" isn't impossible. (The Western Continent likely has this tech.)
As for the protagonist's sefirot, it's a major plot point. All I'll reveal is it's not [external].
Translator's Note: We've translated half of the available translated piece novel in this app; tomorrow, I will finish it so that I can translate five chapters a day, as I do with my other translated pieces. That's all Enjoy and Thank you!