Klein looked up from the page, caught somewhere between exasperation and admiration. Twenty-two things, laid out for a hundred-day-old infant to choose from — you had to hand it to the man for creativity.
Bernadette? Is that the name of His Majesty's daughter?
"August 27th. The big day — Bernadette's Zhuazhou! When I arranged all twenty-two 'Pathways' in a circle around her and waited for her to make her choice, she did something that surprised and delighted me in equal measure."
"Without a moment's hesitation, she crawled straight toward me — and flung herself into my arms! Ha! She really is my little angel. Not the slightest bit interested in extraordinary powers; all she wanted was her old father. Well, I'll make sure to spoil her rotten from here on. If she wants a star from the sky, I'll find a way to reach it for her!"
"August 29th. Every morning this past while, I've woken up feeling clear-headed and at ease. It's been a long time since I found myself thinking about that other world, or feeling that hollow ache over it. Have I let go? I don't think it's quite that — because whenever it does come to mind, I still get pulled under by those complicated feelings."
"So I've been wondering: could it be that Bernadette's arrival has healed this soul of mine, so far from home? She makes me feel like I'm no longer a lone wanderer. No longer a stranger with no stake in this world. No longer some disaster tourist, dropped into a game world with no rules to follow."
"Heh. I gave Bernadette her life — and she, in turn, gave me a second one. Thank you, my little angel."
And there the page ended.
Unlike some of the diary entries Klein had encountered before — ones dense with mysticism knowledge — this page offered nothing of the sort. Yet it stayed with him, sinking in slowly, refusing to be shaken loose.
He understood Roselle's feelings well, as a fellow traveller from another world. That stubborn pull toward home. You could see plainly how the arrival of a daughter had eased the Emperor's restlessness — had given him, for the first time, a real sense of belonging to this world.
And what about me?
Bernadette had been watching the Fool carefully throughout. By now, she had no doubt whatsoever that He could read Roselle's script. The only question remaining was why — was it simply a matter of a deity having little difficulty deciphering any written language? Or was there something else behind it?
Something like… knowing Father personally, or sharing some deeper connection with him?
She wanted to ask. But reason held her back. This was only her first gathering, and she still didn't know what kind of god this "Fool" truly was, nor whether His words could be trusted.
After a long silence, Klein lifted his eyes to the three of them and smiled faintly. "My apologies — I got rather absorbed."
Audrey smoothed away a small flicker of envy and smiled back. "I do look forward to the day I might exchange something with you for the contents of Emperor Roselle's diary."
"That will come at a cost."
Klein smiled and glanced at "Justice," then let his gaze pass over "The Hanged Man" and "The Lovers" in turn. What he was actually thinking was: For the foreseeable future, the Emperor's diary is my main prop for playing the mysterious god. Why on earth would I tell any of you what's in it?
But just then, "The Lovers" spoke up. "What kind of cost?"
"Mr. Fool — what would I need to offer, to learn what the diary says?"
Audrey looked over in surprise. Her own comment had been offhand — she hadn't expected this new "Miss Lovers" to take it seriously. She must want to know about Roselle's diary quite desperately. Is she one of His Majesty's devoted admirers?
Klein felt a mild flicker of awkwardness. "The cost" had been a throwaway line — he hadn't actually thought it through.
Something tangible would be ideal, he supposed — money he could spend freely. But he couldn't very well ask for money outright. And by the same logic, asking for the Astrologer's next potion formula or ingredients was equally unrealistic.
After turning it over in his mind, Klein shifted his posture and rested his cheek in one hand. "As I told you before — I prefer fair exchanges. Submitting Roselle's diary to me already counts as your 'cost.' However, the diary itself and the contents of the diary are not equivalent in value."
"So — once you have provided me with a sufficient number of pages, I will consider sharing some of the contents with you."
The answer, Klein noted with private satisfaction, had two carefully buried traps: the first was the word "sufficient" — there was no precise benchmark for that, which meant the Fool would be the one to decide when the bar was met. The second was "some of the contents" — which pages to share, and how many, would also be the Fool's call entirely.
The initiative stays in my hands, and I get to define the terms. I really do have the makings of a proper evil god.
"I understand."
Bernadette nodded, then asked, "What about questions — questions directed specifically at the diary itself?"
Klein considered for a moment. "That's fine."
"Thank you."
Audrey's eyes lit up. "Mr. Fool — in that case, Mr. Hanged Man and I may ask as well?"
Alger: "..." — Why drag me into this? I'm not particularly interested in Emperor Roselle's diary.
Klein smiled. "Of course."
Audrey pumped her fist in quiet triumph, then — catching herself, aware the gesture wasn't very ladylike — rose, smoothed her skirts, and gave a proper curtsey. "Thank you, Mr. Fool."
Sitting back down, she looked around the table. "Mr. Fool, Mr. Hanged Man, Miss Lovers — I have three questions I would like to put to the group. If you feel your answer holds significant value, let me know what you want in return, and I'll do my best to find it."
She paused, then continued: "My first question: what exactly does 'acting' mean? I've noticed that the residual spiritual influence from the potion has been quite mild. Is that because I've been acting as a Spectator this whole time?"
It was a question Alger had been wanting answered as well. He turned his gaze expectantly toward Mr. Fool — but before Klein could respond, Bernadette's voice cut across:
"The core of the Acting Method lies in clearly defining your Sequence and your role — then living by the principles and behaviour that role demands. You must dig deep into the essence of the character you're embodying, genuinely understand it, and put those principles into practice in your daily life. That is how you digest the potion."
Her words fell, and the table went quiet.
Audrey blinked, a little lost. Alger looked thoughtful. Klein felt something click behind his eyes — several nagging questions about the Acting Method untangled themselves all at once.
"I'm sorry, Miss Lovers — I'm… not sure I quite followed that."
Bernadette's brow creased faintly. My explanation was perfectly clear. What's there not to understand?
"Ahem."
Klein cleared his throat, a trace of amusement in his eyes. "Please forgive Miss Justice — she was an ordinary person just last week."
Audrey puffed out her cheeks. So I've been looked down on by Miss Lovers. Again.
Klein tapped a steady rhythm along the edge of the table. "Let me try a more illustrative approach. Think of a Sequence potion's core power as a heavily guarded castle. The residual spiritual elements — the ones that cause a backlash — dwell inside those walls. Our goal is to deal with them and claim the castle as our own…"
He built the analogy from there, using it to illuminate the relationship between "acting" and the potion itself, before concluding: "…So we must go in disguised, acting the part of invited guests. Does that make sense?"
Audrey's face cleared at once. "It does, Mr. Fool! I understand!"
She slid a carefully understated glance toward Bernadette, thinking: Hmph. Now that was an explanation I could actually follow. Unlike your earlier lecture, which kept piling things on top of each other and getting more tangled with every word.
Bernadette: "..."
To be continued…