"0—08" pulsated, rejoicing in the failure of the clumsy screenwriter.
Meanwhile, Ince could no longer maintain his composure.
That fellow Klein—why would he make such a choice? This doesn't fit the behavioral logic of a newcomer!
But so what?
"008" began to gloat.
Indeed, on this stage of Tingen, who knew how many high-level existences were quietly placing their bets.
That mysterious "thousand faces," and the old Monster inside Leonard—
Even Amon had been secretly influenced by someone; that terrifying crow had also come to Tingen, though they didn't know it yet.
Ince Zangwill was by no means an existence who could do whatever he pleased just because he had obtained "0—08."
Just then, the quill wrote new content, its lines filled with a certain malicious humor.
[Something even more exciting is coming! That Klein Moretti, who has been constantly ruining your script, has brought about yet another variable—he is actually sharing the concept of the "Acting Method" within the Nighthawks squad!]
Inside the carriage returning from the pier district to the Blackthorn Security Company, the atmosphere was somewhat heavy.
Klein looked at Captain Dunn Smith, who was leaning against the carriage wall beside him with his eyes closed, and still felt a lingering fear in his heart.
He really didn't dare to imagine what the consequences would have been if Mr. Nai Ya hadn't warned him in advance, allowing him to stop the Captain the moment he got the notebook.
He had personally experienced the eeriness of that notebook.
The deaths of Welch and Naya were both inextricably linked to it.
He cleared his throat and couldn't help but speak: "Captain, what was with you today? You were completely out of it."
The carriage jolted, and Klein's heart leaped with it.
His tone might have been a bit harsh, but he was truly worried.
Even though the Captain was a Mid-Sequence Beyonder, the danger of that notebook was absolutely not to be underestimated.
If anything happened to the Captain, he would be truly devastated.
Dunn Smith slowly opened his eyes; those signature grey eyes now held a rare trace of confusion and helplessness.
He remained silent for a moment before speaking in a somewhat raspy voice: "I don't know either—"
As an experienced Nighthawk captain, he naturally knew the basic regulations for handling dangerous Sealed Artifacts.
But at that moment, he just had an uncontrollable urge to flip open that notebook and investigate the secrets within.
He thought for a long time but couldn't come up with a reason. Finally, he could only rub his forehead, where his hairline was a cause for concern, and said tiredly: "Really—it was just me being momentarily forgetful again."
After saying this, he seemed a bit embarrassed and turned his body away, avoiding Klein's gaze, losing his usual steady and reliable demeanor.
Klein was stunned upon hearing this explanation.
Forgetfulness—
This reason was truly—so fitting for the Captain's persona! Powerful, perfect, and without a single flaw!
Since the Captain had taken the initiative to "admit his mistake," it wouldn't be right for him to keep pressing; that would seem too tactless.
So, his mind turned, and he remembered another important matter, taking the initiative to change the subject: "By the way, Captain. Have you ever tried the 'Acting' method Leonard mentioned before to digest the potion?"
His fellow poet had just stepped out; having taken custody of the notebook, he had contacted a bishop in the cathedral and was not in the carriage.
Klein could use the "new concept" Leonard had been spreading in the squad these past few days to have a deep conversation with the Captain, while also laying the groundwork for his own upcoming complete digestion of the potion.
But he also knew that appearing too much of a genius would only invite unnecessary scrutiny and suspicion.
He weighed his words carefully, trying to make himself look like someone who had caught a glimmer of inspiration amidst confusion.
"Yes, Captain. I feel like—when we consume a potion, it's like a stranger has moved into our body, a stranger with a specific 'personality.' If we blindly suppress it, it will resist, bringing the risk of losing control."
His voice wasn't loud, but it echoed clearly in the quiet carriage.
"But if we try to understand it, to mimic its 'personality,' or even—become it, would we be able to better harness this power?"
Klein didn't use the word "Acting"; instead, he used a vaguer phrasing that sounded more like a personal realization.
"For example, a 'Seer'—its essence is 'peering' and 'foreseeing.' Then should I also be more like a true diviner in my daily life? Not just when I'm divining, but at every moment, maintaining a posture of observation and insight."
"It's as if—we aren't 'mastering' an identity, but 'acting' it out. A Seer should divine more, summarize patterns, and maintain mystery. That's what I've been doing at the Divination Club lately, and I feel the potion is digesting exceptionally fast."
These words sent Dunn into deep thought.
He remembered how, after becoming a 'Nightmare,' he was often troubled by nightmares and stayed high-strung; perhaps it was precisely because he had always been 'fighting' it rather than 'accepting' it.
A trace of contemplation flashed in Dunn's grey eyes as he nodded: "You are very talented, Klein. Although Leonard can be unreliable at times, his discovery this time is indeed very valuable. This might be another mystery of Beyonder characteristics that we've all overlooked in the past."
He paused, his tone carrying a hint of emotion: "If we had known this earlier, perhaps—"
He didn't finish his sentence, but Klein understood; the Captain was thinking of the teammates who had sacrificed themselves in the past.
The carriage fell silent for a moment, save for the "clack-clack" of the wheels over the stone road.
"We will all become stronger," Klein said softly, breaking the silence.
Dunn glanced at him, light reconverging in his grey eyes as he nodded solemnly: "Yes, we will all become stronger."
Laughter rang out in the carriage again, filled with hope for the future.
However, according to the law of conservation of smiles, when one side is laughing, there is always another side gnashing their teeth.
"Bang!"
Inside the house with the red chimney, Ince Zangwill slammed his fist onto the desk, sending wood splinters flying.
The fury in his chest almost burned through his ribs, and his pale, gloomy face was twisted with rage—
Failure, another failure!
His meticulously designed plan to have Dunn Smith come into contact with the Antigonus Family notebook and become corrupted had been easily ruined by that Klein Moretti!
Why? Why was it him again!
From Lanulius's branch being taken down by an informant's report, to him picking up the notebook while taking a stroll, to him inexplicably stopping the Captain from looking through it—this series of "coincidences" was simply like a clumsy, third-rate play!
And he, Ince Zangwill, the former Archbishop of the Church of the Evernight, had actually become the Clown repeatedly toyed with in this play!
The quill, "0—08," was currently hopping on the floor in glee, writing out its mockery of him with invisible ink.
"Ince—his perfect script has been shredded again."
"Klein Moretti, this anomalous fellow, this guy who grasped the Acting Method—who exactly is standing behind him?"
Ince stared fixedly at that pen; this sequence 1 Sealed Artifact had glimpsed something, but it didn't dare to write it down!
It was in fear!
This made the fire of rage in Ince's heart burn even hotter, while simultaneously causing a bone-chilling cold to well up.
He began to think about the "Acting Method" Klein had mentioned.
If—if this was truly something Klein had realized on his own, what would that represent?
It would represent a peerless genius! A genius with extraordinary intuition regarding Beyonder characteristics!
What kind of treatment would such a genius receive once discovered by the Church of the Evernight headquarters?
Ince Zangwill's mind instantly conjured the training process for genius members within the Church of the Evernight.
Once Klein reported this "realization," the Church's high-level officials would absolutely list him as a key target for cultivation.
The Tingen City branch doesn't have the subsequent "Seer" formulas? No matter, the headquarters does! From sequence 8 "Clown" to Sequence 5 "Marionettist," the complete formulas would be within reach!
Advancing to Sequence 5 requires a rare mermaid?
No matter, the Church keeps more than one! As long as Klein showed enough potential and loyalty, these resources would all tilt toward him!
And what about him?
He, Ince Zangwill, a former Archbishop, had to betray the Church and plot with tigers just to seek a demigod position, hiding in dark corners like a dog, carefully weaving one clumsy coincidence after another, and constantly at risk of being backlashed by the "0—08" beside him.
Yet Klein Moretti, a newly initiated Sequence 9, only needed to show enough talent for the Church's resources to tilt his way!
He could follow the steps and become a demigod in total safety!
On what basis!
It's not fair!
The poisonous fire of jealousy, mixed with old resentments, grew wildly in his heart.
The suppression, the unwillingness, and the various past incidents of being ignored that he had felt in the Church of the Evernight all rushed to his mind like a tide.
[All those things of the past, has he really forgotten them?]
He, Ince Zangwill, had given so much for the Church, only to end up like this!
"Hehe—hehehe—" Ince let out a low, suppressed laugh. "Church of the Evernight—you will regret this, you will definitely regret abandoning me!"
He forced himself to calm down.
One plan failed, but no matter, he still had a backup.
The Nighthawk squad was on their way back, and there was an excellent ambush point along the way.
He had already arranged for a sequence 7 "Magician" from the Secret Sorcery Club to be waiting for them there.
A sequence 7, dealing with a group of Nighthawks whose highest level was only sequence 7—even with Sealed Artifacts, it would be enough to deal a devastating blow!
As long as he killed them or severely wounded them, he would have enough time to complete his subsequent arrangements!
A flash of ruthlessness appeared in Ince's eyes; he grabbed "0—08" from the floor, preparing to add some reasonable "coincidences" to the upcoming "script" to ensure nothing went wrong.
"The personnel from the Secret Sorcery Club had long since laid a trap on the mandatory path; he will welcome the exhausted Nighthawks with the brilliance of 'Magic'—"
However, just as the tip of the pen touched the paper, Ince felt a massive resistance.
"0—08" actually couldn't write any further!
What was going on?
He frantically poured spirituality into the quill, trying to forcibly write the future.
On the ground, invisible handwriting finally emerged, but it wasn't the content he wanted.
"How strange, the 'Magician' from the Secret Sorcery Club has lost contact."
"Where did he go? Let's see—"
The handwriting of "0—08" skipped along happily, as if exploring an interesting puzzle.
But in the next second, its handwriting abruptly stalled, as if its throat had been seized by an invisible giant hand.
"0—08" was silent for a long time before it used a stroke more terrified than any before to laboriously write out a few words.
[He—put on a Monocle.]
A Monocle—
This image caused Ince to feel an inexplicable palpitation.
And "0—08" used a frantic, scrawled handwriting that was near collapse to quickly add a sentence.
[Oh, so it's Amon.]
After finishing this sentence, the quill fell onto the table with a "clatter," becoming completely still, as if it had exhausted all its strength, or rather, was too scared to move again.
It had made up its mind that within today, it would absolutely not write any more words related to "coincidence" or "fate."
That terrifying crow caused even the "Author" characteristic contained within "0—08" itself to feel dread.
It didn't want to attract the attention of that King of Angels because of some clumsy script it had arranged.
Ince Zangwill stood frozen in place, his whole body cold.
Amon—
Amon!
The God of Deceit, the God of Mischief, that King of Angels who possessed the "Error" Uniqueness!
That name was like a curse from the Abyss, making him instantly feel as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.
His final plan, his final hope, the "Magician" he had arranged, had actually—had actually been "parasitized" by Amon?
How could He appear in Tingen? And even take away the pawn he had arranged?
The reaction of "0—08" explained everything.
It would rather damage itself than record or arrange any script related to that existence.
It was afraid of being noticed, afraid of being found by that existence following the threads of fate!
This meant—his greatest reliance, this sequence 1 Sealed Artifact, was to some extent rendered useless!
As long as a matter might involve Amon, even if there was only a tiny possibility, "0—08" would not dare to recklessly weave "coincidences"!
Ince Zangwill was cold all over, as if in an ice cellar.
He had originally thought he was the chess player.
But in truth, Ince Zangwill and Klein Moretti, this pair of rivals chosen by fate, had been simultaneously enveloped by an even larger, more chaotic shadow before they could even truly begin their duel.
Why would that existence come to Tingen? Was it for the Antigonus Family notebook?
Regardless, for him, it was the worst possible news.
He looked out at the gloomy sky outside the window, feeling a flicker of doubt for the first time regarding his plan to usurp the Saint's ashes.
Tingen City, this small, unremarkable industrial city, had unknowingly become the center of a storm.
And he and his damned enemy, Klein Moretti, were like two fish caught in the same whirlpool.
It had to be said, Klein and Ince were truly a pair of ill-fated rivals!