Klein thought deeply, formulating various hypotheses in his mind, but due to insufficient evidence, he could only temporarily attribute the matter to a difference in the flow of time between Earth and this world. "My journey across to Roessel spanned less than a year, yet here it has stretched out to nearly two centuries. That means even if it takes me two centuries to find my way back, I won't miss my parents—they'll simply be gone for a year at most." With this reverse reasoning, Klein felt a significant lift in his spirits, suddenly feeling confident and enthusiastic. Of course, he was well aware that this reasoning was not rigorous, as he only had one initial condition and could not yet verify it. What if Roessel had actually arrived after me? Then perhaps temporal disturbances would come into play, and it might no longer be guaranteed that he could return to the right moment. Klein immediately cooled his suddenly inflamed emotions. Rossel’s first journal entry was a long-held composition, spanning more than two pages. When Klein turned to the remaining two entries, he read: “February 25th—What a dull world! There’s not even a newspaper, and novels are scarce! I believe I need to undertake some cultural outreach, but only if I can secure funds and recall the refinements of papermaking and printing.” “As a traveler from another time, I now rely solely on the meager savings from my parents—my father and mother—who are both quite frugal. I only manage to see a few shiny coins from Fergin occasionally. It’s truly a sad tale.” “Yet, hunting proves quite engaging.” “February 28th—This world may differ from what I expected.” “Today, while hunting, I became lost in the woods and ended up witnessing an extraordinary battle.” "Among them, the man who was trapped had four eyes growing on his face—four eyes! And from within, he emitted a deep emerald glow! This—this isn't scientific at all! Is he a humanoid monster?" "Is this actually a fantasy world?" "The monster's opponent was even more formidable, summoning a column of blazing golden flame—yes, I believe that's what it was." "Good thing they didn't notice me. After defeating the monster, they carried off its body and left." "I, Huang Tao, am truly the protagonist. Just a few days after my arrival, I've already uncovered the truth of this world!" "Perhaps they can decipher the mysterious symbols and patterns on that silver plaque—of course, I won't ask. I want to become like them, to solve it myself." "There's one more reason for this: I honestly can't remember the exact appearance of those flowing, messy patterns anymore. I only vaguely recall their general shape." "Really the protagonist? Emperor, have you poured every bit of your mid-tier soul into this journal? Kline couldn't help but make a comment. He was particularly interested in the silver plaque, rumored to be the key to Rosel's transition, and wanted to know exactly what the symbols and patterns on it looked like. If the mystical knowledge of this world could indeed decode them, then the transition might not have been a mere coincidence after all. Kline set down the journal and tapped the desk with his fingers, lifting the shielding effect that had been in place for the "Hangman" and "Magician." "You handle your own transactions," he said, smiling as he leaned back against the chair. "Magician" Fols breathed out softly. "I would like to purchase the stomach of a food spirit and 20 milliliters of deep-sea gunfish blood, to be paid in pounds." I still have 430 pounds—I can afford one of these," she quietly reminded herself. As for where the funds for the remaining item would come from, she hadn't yet figured it out. This is one of the primary reasons that hinders many exceptional individuals from advancing... Honestly, people simply cannot attempt to consume beyond their own capabilities—unless they wish to completely escape the influence of the full-moon ruminations and become "masters of illusion." Only after acquiring a relatively rich repertoire of extraordinary abilities would I even consider advancing, or even engage with this circle anymore. I would simply write books, save money, sip tea, and spend time with Xiu, going out together whenever she completes her own endeavors. Then, I would travel to different places across the northern and southern continents, undaunted by danger or unforeseen events, and simply enjoy life. Fores' thoughts suddenly began to drift. Just as she thought no one would respond, the "Turned Over" Aljer spoke softly: "I saw deep-sea gunfish blood during the previous gathering of sea pirates, but unfortunately, you've missed it. You should have mentioned it earlier—I'm sorry, I made a mistake. At that time, you hadn't yet joined the Tarot Circle." What does that have to do with anything? Are you merely boasting about your seniority? Forth thought to himself, pursing his lips slightly, and asked seriously: "Mr. The Hangman, could you please keep an eye out for me—anything between 300 and 400 pounds would be acceptable?" Alger huffed: "The sea is broader than land; pirates might not even meet face to face every six months. Even in the capital cities of the islands where they sell off their plunder, exceptional materials are rarely gathered. Only the great cities—Becland, Trier, Saint-Milon, and Feneport—can attract such a concentration. From the way you speak, you must be from Becland, or have settled there for many years." So you're saying I still have to do it myself? Forth nearly raised his head to gaze up at the lofty dome. At that moment, "The Sun" Deric spoke: "I know the general ranges where the spirit-eaters are active. But I don't need the pounds you mentioned..." "...Master Magician Forth smiled politely: "Then what do you wish for?" “The formula for the ‘Solar Priest’ potion…” Audrey, embodying justice, answered mentally before Drick could speak. After thinking carefully, Drick said, “The formula for the ‘Solar Priest’ potion.” “Ah, the formula from Sequence 7, I’ve heard of it. But the minimum price for a Sequence 7 formula is 750 pounds—sometimes even reaching over 1,000 pounds if someone needs it urgently. Yet the stomachs of the food spirits and the blood of deep-sea gunfish each sell for no more than 400 pounds, and most often only 300 pounds. Do you understand what I mean?” Firth tried to make the “Sun” see that this was not a simple exchange of equal value. Drick replied without hesitation, “I can offer you two or three stomachs of food spirits.” As for providing the deep-sea gunfish blood, he hadn’t even considered it—he had never seen the sea at all! What could I possibly do with additional stomachs of food spirits? Bake them? Fry them? If I sell it, I'm not sure when I'll manage to find a buyer—most importantly, I simply can't afford the recipe for the "Solar Divine Official" right now. Folshee smiled and said, "I'll make an effort to gather information about it." She recalled the masked devotee of the "Eternal Scorching Sun" from the gathering hosted by Mr. A, and the "Ring of Light," believing that there might be a clue to the recipe within those circles. Yet, the funds remain insufficient. "The Magician" Folshee thought for a moment, touched her face, glanced around, and with genuine sincerity asked, "Ladies and gentlemen, do any of you have any reliable ways to earn money?" As soon as she finished speaking, everyone fell into simultaneous silence. Silence, she realized, was a silent palace, a quiet haze. It seemed that all of them were grappling with this very issue, while the " Fool" gentleman appeared to have no need for money at all. Folshee wisely chose to remain silent. The best way to earn money isn't simply owning pastures, mines, farms, factories, and shares, is it?... Well, you could also check the kingdom's bounty listings and complete them one by one, according to price and your own financial capacity. Audrey knew she didn't have much real experience in making money, so she merely responded with a few light-hearted remarks in her mind. Let me take a look at the bicycle project... Caine held back the urge to have "the World" speak directly, as that would reveal his actual identity. After pausing for a few seconds, he maintained his air of mystery, allowing "the World" to speak in a low, somber tone: "Keep an eye on the cerebral anomalies of the Pituitary gland and blood, as well as the characteristics of the human skin shadow and the hair of the deep-sea Naiads." Though Caine now had only 589 pounds left in cash, he had gained the exceptional traits of the werewolf and a bottle of biological toxins, and was considering finding an opportunity to craft one of these into a magical item and then selling it. And thus, the cost of a Sequence 6 exceptional material is more than sufficient! Therefore, he intends for the Tarot Circle members to keep an eye out, so as not to miss it. "Agreed," said Derek of "The Sun" first, though he didn't commit. Compared to the Spirit Beings, the Man-Skin Shadow and the Many-Faced Hunter are not easy to encounter. "The Many-Faced Hunter? I've seen its fossil before," replied Audrey of "Justice," musing. "Hmm, I'll go check it out first." The fossil is stored in the Duke of Nigan's treasury. If it's already a fossil, perhaps the exceptional traits have already been claimed by others... Klein manipulated the "World," nodding slightly without committing. After a quiet pause, Aljere of "The Turner" said: "Could you keep an eye on one person, related to the earlier mentioned colonial slave disappearance case? He claims to be named Barren, with a brownish complexion and clear South Continent features, though occasionally someone hears him speak with a Beckett accent." His third tooth on the left is missing, though it's likely already replaced. He has an unremarkable appearance and an ordinary height. If you can locate him, we'll be happy to offer a substantial reward—at least 100 pounds, or equivalent goods. Such a description alone makes even divination impossible, let alone finding him in reality... "The Fool" Kline surveyed the room. "Let the exchange begin." ... After the tarot gathering, "The Sun" Deric returned to the real world and settled back into the dark, narrow room. He sat cautiously for several seconds, noting no unusual changes, and finally exhaled in relief. Recalling that "The Hangman" had urged him to ask more questions of the former exploration team leader, Deric approached the corresponding metal wall and bent his fingers, tapping once firmly. Tap. Tap. He had completed the signal, yet the other side remained silent for a long time. Had he fallen asleep? Or had he been taken to the six-member council? Derek looked at the dull metallic wall, puzzled.