For an instant, Klein believed that he had transmigrated back, but the elegant gas lamp surrounded by brass grids and Old Neil's silver-inlaid tin can filled with hand-ground coffee made him realize reality.
This transmigrator senior, Rosell The Great, is really a compatriot?
He's using simplified Chinese, which doesn't exist in this World, to record a secret?
With an indescribable feeling of "meeting an old friend in a foreign land," Klein quickly scanned through the three pages of the manuscript in his hand.
"18th November. What a miraculous matter. A whimsical experiment and an accidental mistake allowed me to discover a pitiful fellow who was trapped in a storm and lost in the depths of the darkness. He could only approach the real World during the full moon every month, but he was still unable to transmit his cries over. He was lucky to have met me, the protagonist of this era."
"After writing the above paragraph, I read it myself and suddenly felt a little wistful. Even though it's written in Chinese, it unknowingly has a strong translation accent. Forty years passed in a snap of a finger. The memories of the past are really like a dream."
"1st January, 1884. A grand New Year's Eve. Ma 'am Florenar is truly a beauty."
"2nd January, my gentlemen from the Foreign Affairs Council are all idiots!"
"3rd January, my choice back then was too rash. Now, from the looks of it, be it Apprentice, Seer, or Marauder, they are all better. Unfortunately, there's no turning back."
"4th January, why are my children so stupid? I've said it ten thousand times. Don't be fooled by those charlatans. No, those charlatans might have been fooled themselves. The key to potions isn't mastery, but digestion! It's not excavation, it's acting! And the name of a potion isn't only a symbol of its core, but also a concrete image. It's also the key to digestion! "
From Feysac in the north, Rouen in the east, and Feynapotter in the south, my enemies have finally come together, but I'm not afraid. I'll use facts to tell them that the generational difference in weapons and knowledge isn't something that can be made up for by numbers and Low-Sequence Beyonders. Besides, it's not like I don't have subordinates. As for high-end Beyonders, heh heh, have they forgotten who I am? "
"On the 23rd of September, I lost contact with the ship searching for the Forsaken Land of the Gods. I should consider inventing wireless telegraphy. Hopefully, it won't be affected by the storm."
"The 24th of September. Miss Ithaca is more charming than Lady Florentine. Perhaps I am only nostalgic for my youth."
Because it was a copy, due to the complexity of the Chinese characters, the size of each character was magnified. Therefore, there was not much content on each page. In fact, for the sake of preservation and research, the back of the book was blank. But even so, Klein was still overwhelmed with emotions, especially when he read Rosell The Great's description of the key points of the potion. It made him feel as if he had found a "way to solve the problem" and grasped a priceless secret.
Perhaps this will be the guiding light for my future Beyonder pathway!
Yes, the three pages of manuscripts are diary entries from different periods. I can tell that Rosell The Great has the habit of only writing the year at the beginning of the year. For the time being, I can't determine which year the November and September pages belong to …
"Who was the poor fellow he discovered?"
"What do digestion and acting refer to?"
"Where is the Forsaken Land of the Gods?"
…
Questions boiled in Klein's mind along with the pleasant surprise. It made him wish he could immediately gather Rosell The Great's diary and read it from beginning to end!
"Klein?" At that moment, Old Neil, who was sitting opposite him, said in confusion.
Klein snapped to his senses and hurriedly hid his smile.
"I thought I would be the most special one, so I wanted to try to decipher and decipher it."
"What a young man." Old Neil laughed and nodded. "I also once thought that I was the most special one."
Klein flipped through the three pages of manuscripts in his hand. After confirming that he hadn't missed anything, he handed them back and pretended to ask casually,
"Do we only have these few pages?"
I want to see more of Rosell The Great's diary!
"Did you think there would be a lot?" Old Neil rubbed the manuscripts as he sneered with deep wrinkles. "There aren't many incidents involving Beyonders and mysteries every year. Sigh, it's mainly because those Beyonder species are gradually dying out in our Northern Continent. Without them, there aren't any more potions. Therefore, there are fewer and fewer Beyonders. Sigh, over the past few centuries, dragons, giants, and elves have become records in books. Even the Sea race no longer appears in the coastal waters."
Upon hearing this, Klein suddenly thought of a joke and immediately smiled.
He immediately smiled and said, "I think it's time to establish the Dragon and Giant Protection Association."
Old Neil was at a loss when he heard that. It took him a long time to understand what he meant. After figuring it out, he patted the table and laughed heartily. He wasn't gentlemanly enough.
"Haha, Klein, you really are a humorous person. This is a tradition of our Rouen Kingdom. It's never wrong for young people to be humorous. I don't think it should be too narrow. How can there only be dragons and giants? It should be called the Magical Animal Protection Association. "
"No, no, no. How can we forget those pitiful plants?" Klein shook his head.
At this point, he and Old Neil looked at each other and said in unison,
"Magical Animal Protection Association!"
Just as they said that, the two of them smiled in tacit agreement. The unfamiliar atmosphere from before had dissipated quite a bit.
"There are fewer and fewer interesting young people like you … Where was I?" The wrinkles on Old Neil's face suffused a smile. "I remember now. There aren't many incidents involving Beyonders and mysteries every year, and the idiots who worship Emperor Rosell are the minority. It's already not bad that we were able to obtain three manuscripts … Yes, the other cathedrals or dioceses should have more …"
He muttered a few words and took the "approval" that Klein had long placed on the table.
He glanced at it and said, "Is it a pistol bullet, a rifle bullet, or a steam-pressure gun bullet?"
"A revolver," Klein answered according to the actual situation.
"Alright, I'll take it out. Ahem, do you have an armpit holster? As a gentleman, you can't let your waist and below bulge out in public. "Old Neil cracked a joke that all men knew.
"Heh, no. Do I need to get the Captain to write it?" Klein played along and smiled.
Old Neil stood up and said, "There's no need.
It's fine as long as it's recorded. This is considered a set item. Repeat after me, set item. "
"You were a teacher in the past?" Klein asked in amusement.
"I spent some time at the Church's Sunday school and free school." Old Neil waved the piece of paper, took out a key from the drawer, and opened the metal door that led to the inner room.
Beyonders and ordinary people don't feel that much different … Klein mumbled silently as he cast his gaze at the three diary pages on the table.
Rosell The Great is indeed involved in the realm of mysticism …
His diary is priceless …
To others, it's just a piece of waste paper. It's unknown when they'll be able to decipher it, but to me, it's a treasure!
I wonder where the rest of the diary pages are …
I have to think of a way to find more …
Klein's mind was in turmoil, unable to calm down until Old Neil came out from the inner room and closed the metal door.
"Ten demon hunting bullets, thirty pistol bullets, a cowhide armpit holster, and a badge of the Special Operations Department's Seventh Team. Count them, give them a try, and sign on the record book." Old Neil placed the items in his hand on the table.
The pistol bullets were stored in a cardboard box, separated into three layers. They were neatly arranged, and just like the bullets in Klein's house, they were yellow and slightly slender.
The "demon hunting bullets" were stored in a small metal box. They were shaped like ordinary pistol bullets, but they were silver-white in color. Upon closer inspection, there were complicated and dazzling patterns. At the bottom, there was even a small Sacred Emblem of a red crescent moon with stars on a black background.
The cowhide holster felt sturdy to the touch, and there was a buckle on the belt. Beside it was a badge the size of half a palm. It had the words "Awwa County Police Station" and "Special Operations Department's Seventh Team" inlaid in silver. They formed a nearly closed circle around the "Twin Swords Surrounded by a Crown."
"It's a pity it's not a Nighthawk badge," Klein said, half feeling wistful and half probing.
Old Neil smiled and urged Klein to try the holster under his armpit.
After taking off his coat, Klein used a lot of effort to buckle the holster and stick it under his left armpit.
"Not bad." He didn't take it off again and put on his formal attire.
Old Neil sized it up and nodded in satisfaction.
"It's very suitable. My eyes are still as accurate as ever."
After putting the other items into his pocket and signing on the record book, Klein chatted with Old Neil for a while longer before leaving.
Halfway there, he suddenly slapped his forehead in annoyance.
"I forgot to find out more about Sequences and potions. It's all because of Rosell The Great's diary …"
Up until now, he still didn't know what the Sequence of the complete pathway that the Church of the Evernight Goddess controlled was, which was Sequence 9.
Roshan seemed to have mentioned something about … Sleepless? Just as Klein slowly walked towards the stairs, a figure came down.
He was wearing tight pants that made it easy for him to move around. His white shirt wasn't tucked in, and he had a romantic air about him. He was the black-haired, green-eyed officer who had previously searched Klein's house. The two of them had already met upstairs, but they hadn't spoken.
"Good afternoon," the poet-like young Nighthawk greeted him with a smile.
"Good afternoon. I don't think I need to introduce myself, right?" Klein replied humorously.
"There's no need. I have a deep impression of you." The young Nighthawk stretched out his right hand and said, "I'm Leonard Mitchell, Sequence 8 Midnight Poet."
Sequence 8 … He really is a poet … Klein shook his hand gently and asked with a smile,
"You have a deep impression of me?"
Leonard Mitchell's green eyes were deep as he replied with a faint smile.
"You have a special temperament."
… Gay … The corners of Klein's mouth twitched slightly as he forced a smile and said, "I don't think so."
"You encountered such an incident and didn't immediately accept our protection, yet you're still alive. That in itself is special enough." Leonard pointed ahead. "I have to take over as Captain. See you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow." Klein turned to the side and made way.
After he disappeared at the end of the staircase, Leonard Mitchell suddenly turned around and stared at the faint yellow light and the stone floor. He muttered to himself in the air, "That's right, that's right.
He whispered to the air, "Did you notice anything …"
…
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