The dim, smog-filtered light of the early morning creeping over the towering skyscrapers was their only saving grace. Klein let out a slow, measured breath, the cool New York air filling his entirely mortal lungs.
It's a good thing it's still dawn, he thought grimly, pulling his gaze away from the brightly lit Stark Resilient billboard. If they had been dumped into this city during the midday rush, four individuals dressed in Victorian-era aristocratic dresses, pirate captain attire, and steampunk hunter gear would have instantly drawn a crowd, smartphones, and likely a heavily armed response.
He turned back to the four women. Even in the gloom of the trash-strewn alley, he could feel their eyes locked onto him.
Particularly, they were staring at his face. The face of Zhou Mingrui, melded with the modest, scholarly features of Klein Moretti. It lacked the razor-sharp edges of Gehrman Sparrow, the terrifying madness that usually danced in his eyes, or the intimidating aura of a Sequence 3 demigod. Right now, he just looked like a tired university graduate in a dirty trench coat.
Audrey blinked, her emerald eyes scanning him up and down. As a Sequence 7 Psychiatrist, she couldn't pierce his mind, but her foundation as a Spectator allowed her to read his micro-expressions perfectly. She recognized the genuine exhaustion, the underlying shock, but also a stabilizing core of pragmatism taking over.
"Mr. World," Audrey spoke softly in Loenese, her tone carrying a mix of deep curiosity and immense caution. She gestured delicately toward the massive illuminated signs above the surrounding buildings, displaying bold, blocky English letters. "You seem to recognize this place. At the very least, you looked at those peculiar symbols with understanding. Do you know the language of this realm?"
Before Klein could think of a suitable lie to explain why a native of the Loen Kingdom suddenly knew modern English, Audrey's eyes widened slightly in realization.
"Did... did Mr. Fool anticipate this?" she asked in a hushed, reverent tone. "Is your understanding a revelation bestowed by Him?"
Klein paused. Internally, he wanted to sigh in sheer relief. I truly have the best colleagues in the world. They brainwash themselves so I don't have to.
Praise Mr. Fool, Klein thought dryly.
Outwardly, he adjusted his collar, maintaining a calm, unreadable expression as he nodded slowly. "Yes. His gaze pierces through many veils. However," Klein added, intentionally putting a cap on their expectations, "the knowledge I received is not absolute. I have been granted the language and a basic understanding of this world's surface, but the intricacies of its dangers are still obscured. We must tread extremely carefully."
"A hidden realm beyond the Spirit World..." Fors muttered, wrapping her arms around herself. She was shivering slightly. The loss of her Sequence 5 physical enhancements made the brisk, damp morning air cut right through her clothing. "And our powers... they are suppressed."
"To Sequence 7," Xio confirmed, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her triangular blade. She swept her gaze toward the mouth of the alley. "I can feel my strength, but it is confined. The laws I command as a Judge are unresponsive."
Before the grim reality of their depowered state could fully set in, an incredibly distinct, loud sound echoed through the quiet alleyway.
Grrrr-rumble.
Complete silence descended upon the five Beyonders.
Audrey, Xio, and Fors slowly turned their heads.
Standing near a rusted green dumpster, Cattleya, the fearsome Admiral of Stars and a prominent figure on the Five Seas, lowered her head. Even in the dim light, a faint, uncharacteristic flush of red could be seen creeping up the back of her neck.
As a Sequence 4 Mysticologist, Cattleya had ascended to the realm of demigods. Her body had been fundamentally reshaped by divinity and immense spirituality, meaning she had long bypassed the mortal need for regular food, sleep, or water. Sustenance was merely a formality or an indulgence.
But right now, in the anti-magic vacuum of Earth-617, she had been violently shoved back down to a Sequence 7 Warlock. Suddenly, a body that hadn't felt the sting of actual starvation in years was violently remembering that it was made of flesh, blood, and gastric acid.
Cattleya pushed her heavy glasses up the bridge of her nose, her voice rigidly formal as she avoided making eye contact with anyone. "I... am not accustomed to this state. It has been a considerable amount of time since my physical vessel required mundane sustenance in such an immediate manner."
"There is no shame in it, Ma'am," Xio said practically, though her own stomach gave a treacherous, tiny squeak in response.
Klein pressed his lips together, suppressing the urge to massage his temples. The truth was, his own stomach felt like a hollowed-out cavern. As a Scholar of Yore, he was essentially a terrifying entity of history and spirit threads. Now? He was just a Magician. A very hungry, mortal Magician whose last meal was a brief bite before hunting Aurora Order psychos.
Furthermore, he remembered all too well what it was like to be a low-level Beyonder navigating a harsh, capitalist society. Without food, their physical strength would wane, making them even more vulnerable in a universe where bank robbers casually carried alien laser blasters.
"The suppression affects us all equally," Klein said, his voice dropping into the pragmatic, commanding tone of a leader prioritizing survival. "Our connection to Sefirah Castle and the Spirit World is being choked. If we are to survive, we can no longer rely on the conveniences of a demigod."
He looked at the four incredibly wealthy, influential women: a billionaire aristocrat, a famous author, an MI9 official, and a pirate queen, and delivered the harsh reality of their situation.
"Without spirituality to sustain us, we need food. We need a secure environment to investigate the laws of this world. And to acquire either of those in this era..."
Klein looked toward the bustling street beyond the alley, where the first yellow taxis of the morning were beginning to speed by.
"...our first absolute priority," he stated flatly, "is acquiring local currency."