"Sequence 0: The Fool!" After clearly reading the text on the Tarot card, Caine once again felt the same sense of recognition he had when hearing Chalatu's name. At this moment, a strong sense of destiny surged within him, as if everything had been carefully arranged from the very beginning—just like "0–08" had done. He began to question his initial judgment, suspecting that the female animal trainer who had invited him to perform a Tarot reading during her traveling circus show in Tinggen city was no ordinary person. As his thoughts swiftly shifted, Caine approached the situation from a new perspective, gaining fresh insights and gradually no longer feeling so frightened, apprehensive, or discouraged: "Perhaps it wasn't something arranged for me—it was changes I myself brought about." "Because the ritual that brought about the journey, I established a connection with that mysterious space above the gray mist, and thus my fate was naturally affected. More precisely, as a guest from another world, I originally had no 'fate' here—my current path has been shaped by my own personality, the circumstances of the original host, the influence of the gray mist, and the surrounding environment. The mysterious space above the gray mist clearly bears a strong connection to the 'Seer' path, and within that path, the sequence zero is known as 'The Fool.' This means that whenever I make a divination now, the card that inevitably appears is 'The Fool.' Consequently, this also explains why I have adopted 'The Fool' as my title." Klein's心情 gradually settled, considering this the most likely explanation. By shaving away all factors currently unknown, a reasonable explanation still remains—this suggests a high probability. Caine forced himself to pause, setting aside the questions that couldn't yet be settled with certainty, and refocused on what had just occurred: "That immense chair, that mass of translucent maggots—these were the things I saw during my divination atop the gray mist. "Given the unsettling manifestations that, upon careful reflection, evoke a sense of dread, this likely represents an angel of the 'diviner' path, an angel that has lost control and transformed into a monster! "Charathus himself? "Or perhaps the most powerful member of the Antigonid family from the Fourth Age?" "If it is the former, both 'Mirror of the Magic' Arordes and 'Mercury Serpent' Will. Oncetin have confirmed that Charathus has reached Sequence 1 and is now losing control, going mad, collapsing into a monster—this aligns perfectly. It also explains why Charathus only asks for 'the door to be opened': once that 'secret door' is opened and connection is established between the two sides, he can begin to recover step by step, gradually regaining his form; the repeated emphasis on ashes is merely a pretense. 'Yet the issue lies in the environment Arordes has depicted for Charathus at this moment—it does not resemble the ancient palace located atop the mountain. Otherwise, I would have recognized it immediately." "If that angel—barely surviving from the Antigonus lineage—could have been so subtly divided off without its own awareness, thereby undermining Charathus’s efforts during the Roscel period to seek treasures in the Honači Mountains, and ultimately driving it mad during its ascension, then it surely deserves the status of a Sequence 1 'Mysterious Servant.' After all, by then Charathus had already ascended to the rank of 'Miracle-Weaver.' From this perspective, Charathus’s true objective likely remained the same: to open the door, to connect the historical and fated narrative of the misty town with the outside world, and to prevent its own fragmentation. Regardless, that translucent worm—most likely a失控 Sequence 1—must have been the reason why the 'Despairing Mage' collapsed merely upon seeing it, and only managed to be suspended, becoming a dried-out, preserved figure. Fortunately, I had limited clues at the outset and my divination visions were not particularly clear; otherwise, I too would have been overwhelmed by the full, unbroken presence of such a mythical being and suffered a severe breakdown, undergoing a transformation into a state of uncontrollable upheaval. Wait—can this Even accounting for the 'Seer's' pathway's restraint over the mysterious space above the gray mist, they remain at most on par with the others—meaning, as long as one can endure suffering and the prerequisites are sufficiently met, I have only one opportunity to glimpse their form, and the complete mythic creature form is infused with the corresponding knowledge. "Perhaps I can secure a couple of high-sequence recipes this way, just as I once obtained the 'Unshadowed' from the 'Eternal Scorching Sun.'" As this thought arose, a vivid image spontaneously unfolded in Caine's mind: the 'Fool' above the gray mist once again quietly extended its black hand. Amidst a surge of joy, Caine felt a deep sense of sorrow, for with his current level, strength, and possessions, he simply couldn't reach the ancient throne housing the translucent worm to claim the 'Fool' card. It is always painful to see the object one most desires remain out of reach. Hmph… At least they’ve secured the eldritch brew recipe for the Master of Mysteries. There’ll be another chance to observe soon, and this adventure hasn’t been in vain—neither the gold pounds nor the lost statuettes. Well, Chalatu wouldn’t provide a false recipe. To Him, deceiving a Sequence 5 who has no chance of surviving is utterly beneath consideration. If He were to lie, He’d have to worry that I already knew the recipe, and thus my pursuit was merely a way to verify whether He was trustworthy. I’ll consult the oracle atop the gray mist shortly. Taking a deep breath, Kline noticed that nothing unusual had occurred outside over the past while, so he decided to move immediately toward the dark church and examine what had transpired inside. For him, all the questions he’d been pondering moments before weren’t the most pressing now. What mattered most was to leave this hidden world, to leave this misty town! After stepping out of the house, Klein, wearing an old triangular hat and a dark red coat, approached the ancient church with great caution, carefully passing through the partially open doors and moving step by step inward. The bodies, dressed and looking各异 as before, still hung suspended in the air, swaying gently with the breeze, murmuring the same fragmented phrases: "Hornacis... Freglar..." Klein moved through beneath them, his gaze gradually adjusting to the dim light, and the number of things he could see began to grow. The statue of the half-wolf, half-human form remained standing, undamaged, with the obsidian stone slabs and the tin containers of white bone ash lying neatly in its lower rear quadrant, neither cracked nor broken. Klein exhaled in relief, then turned his attention to the surroundings—his gaze suddenly froze. In a shadowed corner, standing taller than even himself, was a massive mushroom. The cap of the mushroom was bright crimson, like blood, streaked with white patterns. Its body was composed of numerous identical smaller mushrooms, their patterns together forming a face—Mr. A's face. Yet Mr. A's "eyes" were lifeless, lacking any human radiance. Two mushrooms had grown out from each side, extending into long, slender arms, and on the left hand, a thin human skin glove was still worn, as if the two had fully merged. ...What a monster... Cain involuntarily stepped back, feeling his knowledge of the esoteric sciences utterly inadequate at this moment. Despite having kept his corresponding visual perception active, maintaining a defensive posture, he noticed that the terrifying mushroom had no "spirit lines"—it seemed to have been dead for some time, and its current movements were merely residual responses from its bodily nervous system. In an instant, Crane suddenly had a guess: the Mr. who had mushrooms planted on him hadn't managed to escape, and had witnessed the translucent worm, the complete mythical creature—his spirit perished on the spot, his body completely collapsed, undergoing a dreadful transformation, and then absorbed the nearby cursed, crumbling "ghosts" named Senior, becoming a mushroom-shaped monster never before seen! Moreover, the "creeping hunger" had also been swallowed up—this mushroom looked truly repulsive. From now on, every time Frank mentioned mushrooms, I'd toss him overboard. Crane's eyes flickered slightly, instinctively leaning toward the obsidian slab, preparing to ignore this "mushroom" and make his escape first. At that very moment, however, he felt a sudden mental lapse, as if everything around him grew slightly blurred. Suddenly, Crane realized he had been forcibly pulled into a dream! He immediately broke free, and there before him was the towering "mushroom"—nearly two meters high—sliding slowly toward him, wielding a massive sword forged from deep crimson lava and pale blue flame. It could wield the "lava sword"...克莱恩 didn't hesitate. He opened his mouth and spoke. "Thwack!" A powerful air bullet struck the "mushroom," which had moved sluggishly due to its manipulation of the dream realm. The bullet pierced through its cap, tearing a massive wound. Inside the wound flowed human flesh and fine mycelium strands, which swiftly contracted and expanded, rapidly repairing the "body." Even better than that... A sharp sense of impending danger surged in克莱恩's mind. He lunged sideways, rolling continuously. The "mushroom" suddenly accelerated, its "lava sword" dragging a swirling interplay of crimson and pale blue fire, and dealt a heavy blow to where克莱恩 had stood. The impact cracked the floor tiles and sent flames bursting outward. At that moment, Caine snapped his fingers, and with a crisp sound, ignited the small mushrooms that composed the monster. Then, he rushed toward the statue's diagonally rear section, aiming to seize the obsidian plaque. But in a sudden moment of confusion, Caine realized his direction had shifted—he was now heading for the entrance. Could it be twisting my will again? His heart tightened. In his peripheral vision, he saw the vast surface of the "mushroom" covered with a layer of frost, extinguishing the rising crimson flames. As his thoughts raced, Caine instinctively turned toward the entrance and snapped his fingers once more, igniting the leaves of the trees outside. Without a full understanding of the enemy's nature or having made extensive preparations, he believed a qualified "magician" should retreat and establish a defensive position. More importantly, his most powerful ability as a "Master of Secret Figures"—the "spirit-thread connection"—was currently ineffective, because the massive "mushroom" lacked the essential spirit threads! With a sudden burst, the crimson flame surged like a wave upon the water, engulfing Caine's form. He instantly reappeared within the outer stream of flame, leaping toward the ground. As he prepared to retreat, a soft wind sound suddenly reached his ears—whistling. The towering "mushroom" with a red-and-white cap, carried by the wind, emerged from the church and pursued him! It could fly! Caine snapped his fingers rapidly, using "Flame Jumps" to widen the gap. At the same time, he felt a tickle in his nose, as though ready to sneeze. There was still illness... how could he manage this? Without his magical artifacts, he couldn't fully harness his mastery of "Secret Companion" magic. What a magical mushroom! Caine, now sheltered inside a house, didn't know whether to cry or laugh. Suddenly, he felt a coolness spreading through his body, and in his mind, his current appearance naturally came to life: his worn triangular cap, his deep-red coat, his white trousers, and his black leather boots—all vanished, leaving only the four-cornered trousers guarding his last dignity. This… it’s been two hours now, and the Senyor summoned from history can no longer sustain himself. Clain instantly grasped the reason and expanded his thoughts: the "mushroom"-merged "general above the blood" component should have disappeared as well. Moreover, in another hour, the "fish-meat" effect would fade, lacking its primary constituents. A subtle, restrained smile tugged at Clain’s lips. He immediately used the flame to leap away, and indeed, as he had anticipated, the massive "mushroom" trunk showed pronounced hollows—irreparable—and as a result, it moved slowly and acted sluggishly. Come on, let's play hide-and-seek... Klein quietly said, beginning to weave through the town's streets, using the flames and buildings to maneuver against the massive "mushroom." Throughout this time, the red moon never pierced through the mist to become clear. Fifteen minutes passed, and finally, the terrifying "mushroom" lost its strength, wobbling and collapsing onto the street. Klein exhaled in relief, moving slowly and cautiously closer, observing how the flesh of the "mushroom" condensed, the light points shrinking, until only a thin human skin glove remained. Hmm... Has the anomaly brought by the Sequence-1 angel—this "creeping hunger"—merged with Mr. A's? An upgraded version of the "creeping hunger"? Klein bent down, carefully picking up the human skin glove. PS: A heartfelt thank you to Vekel, Roadside, Person Under the Paulownia Tree, as well as Drawn Rain and Fallen Leaves 923, and all the other friends who have generously supported us with their donations these past few days—your kindness truly means a great deal. PS2: I was busy finalizing my writing yesterday and didn't get a chance to say it—Happy Children's Day to everyone! Actually, one thing I really love about this chapter and the book reviews section is that the quirky book friends keep laughing and cheering, "Haha!" "666!" "Wow! Amazing!" "Absolutely incredible!" Just flipping through their posts often lifts my mood. Honestly, feeling happy is great—so, let's all keep being happy. PS3: 3,600+ words—please secure a minimum monthly ticket. PS4: Suddenly realized that during the system upgrade from June 2 to June 6, I couldn't post chapter notes or comments, and missed seeing the book friends' constant "Haha!" moments—feeling a bit let down.