Chapter 352: Breakfast

*Another statement about only worshiping the moon and not the

Goddess?* Klein couldn't help but have a look of contemplation.

The last time he heard about such matters was when he was learning about

the Life School of Thought. He never expected that the Shaman King, who

had lived his entire life in the Southern Continent, would also have a

similar point of view.

---In the Pale Era, at the end of the Fourth Epoch, the Berserk Sea

became a veritable reality. Thus, the Northern and Southern Continent

were cut off from each other, and the Life School of Thought was formed

in the early Fifth Epoch. Obviously, it was impossible for the Life

School of Thought to extend itself to the Southern Continent before

Roselle sent his men to find a safe sea route.

Shaman King Klarman was a historical figure who was active in an era

more than a thousand years before the Northern Continent's invasion.

In other words, the two Beyonder factions, which were in different

continents, had no way of communicating with each other and had chosen

to worship the moon itself and ignore the Evernight Goddess at almost

the same period of time.

Such a coincidence inadvertently made one consider why.

*Could it be that the birth of a new god had taken away a portion of the

authority related to the moon? But, as a deity, "He" shouldn't be so

obscure and unknown... In other words, although the Goddess had snatched

the authority of the Moon, the followers of the primordial Moon God had

survived. They had been passed down from the Fourth Epoch or even the

Third Epoch. Even after the separation of the Northern Continent and

Southern Continent, they blossomed into two groups, one helmed by the

Shaman King, the other by the Life School of Thought?* Klein

made a rough guess, but he was troubled by the lack of clues to narrow

the scope.

He gave up thinking about it for the time being and quickly skimmed

through the rest of the contents of the Book of Secrets.

In the preamble, Shaman King Klarman said, very directly, that many of

the rituals, deeds, astromancy, and summoning techniques in the book had

originated from a primitive worship of the moon and described the

corresponding honorific names in detail: "The one and only red moon, the

symbol of life and beauty, the mother of all spiritual forces."

*There's actually an honorific name! However, it lacks the more popular

descriptions like those of the Evernight Goddess or Earth Mother... If

there really is such a hidden god, His followers would inevitably

develop a simpler title to address "Him" that's more suitable for praise

than the worship of the Primordial Moon...* Klein sensed

something amiss as he began to analyze it with his own knowledge on

mysticism.

*Besides, using the Lady of Crimson to hold a ritual would very

obviously direct it at the Goddess. But using an honorific name which is

very similar but more detailed would circumvent the Goddess, pointing it

to the source of their power---the Primordial Moon... I wonder what

arcane existence it is...* Klein thought with wonder and alarm.

Due to his lack of time, he skimmed through the details and found that,

as Shaman King Klarman had said so himself, many of the deeds and

rituals were directed at the moon.

For Klein, it wasn't a cause for concern. He didn't plan on copying them

wholesale and end up provoking the Primordial Moon which he had no idea

about. What he wanted to learn was the overall structure, design, and

details of the deeds and rituals.

Only by mastering the underlying rules could he come up with his own

secret deeds, rituals, astromancy, and summoning techniques that pointed

to the King of Yellow and Black.

*Perhaps in the far future, I'll have my own mysticism

system...* Klein removed the spirit pendulum from his wrist and

finally confirmed the authenticity of the Book of Secrets.

After receiving a clear answer, he was in no hurry to use the Werewolf's

Beyonder characteristic to divine a formula. After all, he wasn't able

to sell it, and for the same reason, he decided to delay the research of

the Biological Poison Bottle for a while.

He quickly returned to the real world and drew the curtains. He saw the

sun, which wasn't capable of illuminating the land. It was hidden behind

the clouds and fog, looking somewhat pale.

"Achoo!"

Suddenly, Klein covered his nose and mouth, and he sneezed.

Only then did he realize that his head was aching and burning. He felt

light-headed and had seemingly caught a cold.

I actually fell ill as a Sequence 7 Beyonder... Klein pulled

out a piece of paper and sniffed.

He carefully thought back for a moment and quickly understood the

reason.

The negative effects of the Biological Poison Bottle would gradually

weaken the possessor and result in an illness!

If it was carried around even longer, then it might even lead to death.

And this effect couldn't be eliminated with the use of spirituality

seals!

Last night, Klein's spirituality was almost nearly emptied after the

battle. While his body was still weak from the poison, he still carried

the Biological Poison Bottle with him and hid in Lever Cathedral for

half an hour...

Adding the time spent on his return to Minsk Street, and he had

embarrassingly fallen ill.

Thankfully, it's not serious... It doesn't affect anything...

Klein sneezed again as he prepared to soak himself in a hot bath.

After washing his face and rinsing his mouth, he specially fried an egg

to reward himself. The fragrance was truly tantalizing.

*A Shaman King's Book of Secrets and the Biological Poison Bottle, a

mystical item that's not worse than the Sun Brooch, as well as a

Sequence 7 Werewolf's Beyonder characteristic. I made quite a killing

this time... It's just a pity that I didn't manage to obtain the Zombie

Beyonder characteristic...* Klein sat by the side of the dining

table. As he ate, he did a tally of his spoils.

What made his heart ache was the fact that he had used a total of eleven

Beyonder bullets, each worth nearly ten pounds!

*That is to say, I burned a hundred pounds... It's really like throwing

money to deal damage... It's no wonder most Low- and Mid-Sequence

Beyonders are so desperate for money...* Klein glanced down at

his breakfast.

They added up to only a few pence!

After breakfast, Klein idly read the newspapers, sneezing from time to

time as he wiped his nose and mouth with a piece of tissue paper.

As soon as the church bell stopped chiming at eight o'clock, his

doorbell rang.

Klein wasn't surprised to see the reporter for the Daily Observer, Mike

Joseph.

The reporter with beautiful blue eyes and a thin mustache, but with

rather rough skin, took off his hat and greeted him. Then he went

straight to the point.

"Detective Moriarty, do you have time to take the job?"

Although he had a cold, he still needed to take on jobs like usual to

avoid suspicion from anyone during this period of time... Klein, who had

just finished a job, smiled and said, "I'm slightly ill, but that

doesn't affect my fighting or shooting skills."

Mike suddenly smiled and said, "Thank you for your help.

"Let's set off now.

"Eh, Detective Moriarty, have you had breakfast? I'll treat you. As your

employer, I should be in charge of providing you your meals today."

Inviting me to breakfast? Klein was startled.

"I just finished eating.

"But I suggest you go to East Borough to have breakfast there. That way,

you can see a lot of things. I'll just need a cup of coffee when we're

there."

"...No problem." Mike pointed outside. "The carriage I hired is

waiting."

Klein sized him up and said, "Sir, you'd better change into something a

little worse; otherwise, there will be lots of work for me."

Mike looked down at his tweed coat and said with some realization, "This

is too eye-catching?"

"It is in East Borough." Klein pointed into his place. "I have some

specially prepared clothes. Hmm, we are about the same size."

Mike couldn't help but exclaim, "You really are a professional."

Professional criminal? Klein lampooned.

After changing into ordinary worker's clothes, the two boarded the

carriage and headed for the outskirts of East Borough.

"Achoo!"

Klein pulled out another piece of tissue paper, wiped his mouth and

nose, and blew his nose.

Since there was no trash can nearby, he folded the tissue paper properly

and stuffed it back into his pocket.

"The food in this coffee shop is okay. Of course, this is relative to

the residents of East Borough." Klein pointed to the slightly greasy

coffee shop at the corner of the street.

He occasionally came here for breakfast whenever he spent the night at

his one-bedroom apartment that was nearby.

"Looks like it's a pretty good restaurant." Mike didn't think it was a

coffee shop.

It was already past nine o'clock, and there were very few customers in

the coffee shop. East Borough residents typically finished their

breakfast at around seven and began to work or to look for work.

After accompanying Mike as he ordered stewed beef with potatoes, bread,

and coffee, Klein looked around for a window seat.

At that moment, he saw an acquaintance---the elderly man he had helped

while pretending to be a journalist.

*He was the one who brought me here in the first place... Why is he only

having breakfast now...* As Klein thought, he turned to Mike and

said, "You have an interviewee."

As he spoke, he carried his coffee cup to the "tramp."

The man was wearing the same thick jacket as before. His grizzled hair

was oily, and his beard was obvious. However, he no longer looked tired,

and his face was no longer as appallingly pale as before.

"Good morning, we meet again." Klein sat down across him and greeted

him, noticing that his breakfast was black bread with a large cup of

cheap tea that was worth a penny.

The elderly man raised his head, took a close look, and said in pleasant

surprise, "Mr. Reporter, it's you?"

... Klein laughed dryly, pointed at Mike and said, "This is my

colleague, he wants to do a deeper investigation on my previous

interview."

Being an experienced and knowledgeable reporter, Mike didn't say

anything further when he heard that. All he did was nod with a smile and

greeted the elderly man.

As for the matter of Detective Moriarty pretending to be a reporter, it

wasn't like he had only found out about it today. He was the one who had

lent him his fake reporter's identification!

"So you really are a reporter!" The elderly man blurted out in

astonishment. "But that doesn't stop you from being a kind-hearted

person."

Klein smiled and asked, "How have you been recently?"

The elderly man drank a mouthful of tea and said, "Thanks to your help,

I finally had a good night's sleep and ate my fill, so I wasn't that

weak.

"My original plan was to go back to my original job---making shoes, but

they didn't want me. They said my hands shook..."

He lowered his head and chuckled, skipping that episode.

"Later, I went down to the docks and found some work. It was tiring, but

at least I made money. I've already rented a spot in someone's house for

only six and a half pence a week. Of course, I can only sleep there at

night.

"Well, that's how working at the dock is like. I went early today and

ate nothing. I raised my hand and shouted my name and the supervisor's

name, but I wasn't chosen, so I had to come back here.

"Fortunately, there's still a chance in the afternoon. Those people in

the morning might be busy till late and won't be fighting against us for

those jobs."

Klein listened quietly, occasionally taking a sip of the bad coffee. As

for Mike, he took out a pen and paper and quickly made notes.