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Mysterious realm

In the surge of steam and machinery, who can grasp the extraordinary? Amidst the fog of history and darkness, who whispers in the ear? I awaken from the enigma, opening my eyes to behold this world: Firearms, cannons, colossal ships, airships, differential engines; alchemy, divination, curses, hanging men, sealed objects... Light still shines, mystery never far away, this is a tale of "The Fool."

jojokria · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
55 Chs

004 Divination

Returning to his seat, Zhou Mingrui waited until the distant chime of the cathedral resounded seven times before slowly rising and approaching the cupboard to retrieve his attire.

A black waistcoat, matching suit, slightly snug trousers at the ankles, topped with a half-high top hat, coupled with a faint scholarly aura, made Zhou Mingrui, when he looked at himself in the mirror, feel as though he was a character in a Victorian drama.

"I'm not going for an interview, just buying some groceries, preparing materials for the transference ritual..." Suddenly, he murmured softly, shaking his head with a wry smile.

Klein was so preoccupied with the upcoming interview that it had become instinctual for him to don this one decent set of clothing whenever his focus wavered.

Exhaling deeply, Zhou Mingrui removed the suit and waistcoat, replacing them with a brownish-yellow worn coat, and switched his headgear to a matching round-brimmed felt hat.

Having tidied himself, he approached the high-low bed and lifted the top cushion, slipping his hand into the inconspicuous hole at the bottom, feeling around for the compartment.

As his right hand retracted, it held an additional bundle of banknotes, about seven or eight in total, with a faded green hue.

This constituted Benson's entire savings, including the funds for the next three days' expenses, among which were only two five-su-lè notes, the rest being one-su-lè.

In the currency system of the Rune Kingdom, the su-lè was situated on the second tier, derived from ancient silver coins, with one su-lè equaling twelve copper pence, available in denominations of one and five.

At the top of the currency hierarchy were the gold pounds, also paper notes, but backed by gold and directly linked, with one gold pound equaling twenty su-lè, available in denominations of one, five, and ten.

Zhou Mingrui unfolded the banknotes, catching a whiff of a very faint and subtle scent of special ink.

This was the smell of money.

Perhaps influenced by Klein's fragmented memories or due to his own unchanging desire for wealth, in that moment, Zhou Mingrui felt himself falling in love with these little pieces of paper.

Look, their patterns were so exquisite, making even the stern and serious George III, with his two-pronged mustache, seem adorable...

Look, the watermark seen through the sunlight was so alluring, the meticulously designed anti-counterfeit label made it distinct from counterfeit cheap goods!

After admiring for a few seconds, Zhou Mingrui pulled out two one-su-lè banknotes, rolled up the rest neatly again, and stuffed them back into the compartment inside the cushion.

Flattening the fabric near the hole, Zhou Mingrui neatly folded the two withdrawn banknotes and placed them in the left pocket of his brownish-yellow coat, separate from the pennies in his trouser pocket.

Having completed these tasks, he slipped the key into his right pocket, picked up the deep brown paper bag, and walked briskly to the door.

Tap, tap, tap, the footsteps went from fast to slow, finally stopping.

Zhou Mingrui stood at the door, his brows furrowed at some point unnoticed.

With many mysteries surrounding Klein's suicide, would venturing out like this invite some "accident"?

After a moment of contemplation, Zhou Mingrui returned to the desk, opened the drawer, and retrieved the gleaming brass revolver.

This was the only weapon he could think of for self-defense, and indeed, a powerful one!

Though he had never practiced shooting, just pulling out this revolver would surely intimidate people!

Running his fingers over the cold metal cylinder, Zhou Mingrui tucked the revolver into the pocket where the banknotes were, gripping the bills in his palm, and firmly holding onto the gun handle, perfectly concealed.

A sense of security surged, and with a bit of understanding, he suddenly voiced a concern:

"What if it accidentally fires?"

Thoughts flowed rapidly, and Zhou Mingrui quickly found a solution. He drew out the revolver, swung the cylinder to the left to eject the empty chamber left by the "suicide" to the firing position, then snapped it shut.

This way, even if it misfired, it would only be an "empty cartridge"!

After stowing the revolver again, Zhou Mingrui's left hand remained in his pocket, no longer withdrawn.

He pressed his hat with his right hand, opened the door, and clanged out.

The daytime corridor remained dim, with limited sunlight streaming through the windows at the end. Zhou Mingrui hurried down the stairs, leaving the apartment, only then feeling the warmth and brilliance outside.

Although it was nearing July, belonging to midsummer, Tinggen, located in the northern part of the Rune Kingdom, had unique climatic features. The highest temperature of the year was barely above 30 degrees Celsius, and mornings were cool. In some places on the streets, dirty water flowed and rubbish was thrown around. In Klein's memories, such scenes were not uncommon in areas where the low-income population resided, even if they had sewage systems. It was because of the dense population and the nature of life.

"Come, come, delicious pan-fried fish!" 

"Hot and fresh oyster soup, drink a bowl in the morning and stay energetic all day!"

"Fresh fish from the harbor, only 5 pence each!"

"Mini pancakes, eel soup with ginger beer!"

"Conch, conch, conch!"

"Fresh vegetables just harvested from farms outside the city, cheap and fresh!"

...

Vegetable sellers, fruit sellers, and vendors selling cooked food loudly called out, attracting the hurried passersby. Some would stop and carefully compare before purchasing, while others impatiently waved their hands, as their work for the day had not yet been settled.

Zhou Mingrui smelled the alternating odors of foulness and fragrance in the air, firmly grasping the gun handle with his left hand, clutching the banknotes, while his right hand held down the round-brimmed felt hat. He bent slightly, lowering his head as he crossed through the bustling street.

Where there were many people, there were thieves, especially in this area where many semi-unemployed poor people did temporary jobs and hungry children were driven by others.

As he progressed, when the density of the crowd returned to normal, Zhou Mingrui straightened his back, raised his head, and looked ahead.

There was a wandering accordion player performing at the street corner, the melody alternating between melancholic and passionate.

Beside him, there were many ragged children with pale faces due to malnutrition.

They listened to the music, followed the beat, instinctively swaying their bodies, dancing their improvised dances, their faces full of joy, as if they were little princes, little angels.

A numb-looking woman passed by, her skirt dirty, her skin dull.

Her eyes were dull and vacant, only showing a faint glimmer when she looked at the group of children, as if she saw herself from thirty years ago.

Zhou Mingrui passed her, turned to another street, and stopped in front of "Mrs. Stylin's Bakery".

The shopkeeper of the bakery was an old lady in her seventies named Wendy Stylin, with all her hair turned gray, but her face always wore a gentle smile. Since

 Klein could remember, she had been selling bread and pastries here.

Ah, her own baked Tinggen bread and lemon cake were delicious... Zhou Mingrui swallowed and smiled, saying, "Mrs. Stylin, 8 pounds of rye bread."

"Oh, little Klein, where's Benson? Haven't come back yet?" Wendy smiled and asked.

"A few more days," Zhou Mingrui replied vaguely.

As Wendy picked up the rye bread, she sighed, "He's such a diligent young man, he'll find a good wife."

Speaking of which, she grinned mischievously, "Now that you've graduated, our University of Hoi history graduate~ Well, you'll soon be able to make money. You shouldn't live in an apartment like this, at least you should have your own bathroom."

"Mrs. Stylin, you look like such a young and lively lady today," Zhou Mingrui could only chuckle in response.

If Klein could pass the interview smoothly and become a lecturer at Tinggen University, the entire family would indeed be on the path to prosperity!

In his fragmented memories, he even fantasized about renting a detached house in the suburbs, with five or six rooms upstairs, two bathrooms, a large balcony, two rooms downstairs, a dining room, a living room, a kitchen, a bathroom, and a cellar.

This was not a luxury. Even as an intern lecturer at Tinggen University, the weekly salary could reach 2 gold pounds. After confirmation, it would be 3 gold pounds and 10 su-lè. It should be noted that Klein's brother Benson, who had been working for many years, had a weekly salary of only 1 pound and 10 su-lè, and ordinary workers in factories earned less than 1 pound or just a bit more. Yet the rent for such a detached house ranged from 19 su-lè to 1 pound and 18 su-lè.

"This is the difference between a monthly income of three or four thousand and one of fourteen or fifteen thousand..." Zhou Mingrui muttered to himself.

However, all of this was contingent on passing the interviews at Tinggen University or Bakeland University.

As for other paths, those without connections could not get recommendations to become civil servants, and those studying history had even narrower employment prospects. The demand for private advisers of nobles, bankers, and industrial tycoons was not very high.

Considering that Klein's knowledge had also turned into "fragments," incomplete and with many gaps, Zhou Mingrui felt embarrassed and uneasy about Mrs. Stylin's expectations.

"No, I've always been this young," Wendy humorously replied.

As they spoke, she packed the sixteen loaves of rye bread into Zhou Mingrui's deep brown paper bag and said, extending her hand, "9 pence."

Each loaf of rye bread weighed about 0.5 pounds, with inevitable deviations.

"9 pence? Wasn't it 11 pence a couple of days ago?" Zhou Mingrui asked instinctively.

Last month, it was even 15 pence.

"You should thank the repeal of the Grain Act and those demonstrators," Wendy said with a smile, her hands outspread.

Zhou Mingrui nodded vaguely. Klein's memories of this were somewhat fragmented, only remembering that the core of the Grain Act was to protect the prices of domestic agricultural products. Before the prices rose to a certain level, grain and cereal from the southern countries of Phaniiport, Maxi, and Lunburg were not imported.

Why would people protest against it?

Without saying much, Zhou Mingrui, afraid of revealing the revolver, carefully took out the banknote, handed one to Mrs. Stylin, and received three copper pence in return, which he put into his trouser pocket. He then picked up the paper bag containing the bread and headed towards the "Lettuce and Meat" market across the street, striving for the tender lamb stewed with tender peas that his sister had instructed.

At the intersection of Iron Cross Street and Narcissus Street, there was a municipal square, where many tents were set up at the moment, with funny-looking clowns handing out flyers everywhere.

"Tomorrow night, circus performance?" Zhou Mingrui glanced at the flyers in others' hands, softly reading out the approximate content.

Melissa would definitely like it. He wondered how much the tickets cost. With this thought in mind, Zhou Mingrui approached.

He was about to ask one of the red and yellow clowns when a hoarse female voice came from beside him:

"Want a fortune-telling?"

Instinctively turning his head, Zhou Mingrui saw a woman standing in front of a low tent, wearing a pointed hat and a long black dress.

Her face was painted with red and yellow grease, and her gray-blue eyes were deep.

"No," Zhou Mingrui shook his head. He didn't have the spare money for fortune-telling.

The woman smiled and said, "My tarot readings are very accurate."

"Tarot..." Zhou Mingrui suddenly froze.

This pronunciation was very similar to the tarot cards on Earth!

And the tarot cards on Earth belonged to a kind of fortune-t

elling poker, with some "graphic cards" with symbolic meanings added.

Wait a minute... he suddenly remembered the origin of tarot divination in this world.

It did not originate from the seven orthodox gods, nor was it an ancient legacy. Instead, it was invented by Russell Gustave, the incumbent Governor of the Republic of Endis, over a hundred and seventy years ago.

This Mr. Russell invented the steam engine, improved sailing ships, overthrew the rule of the Endis Kingdom, and was recognized by the Church of the God of Crafts as the first governor of the new republic.

Later, he conquered the north and south, brought Lunburg and other countries under protection, made the powerful nations of the northern continent such as the Ruen Kingdom, Phaniiport, and the Frazek Empire bow their heads, and then turned the Republic back into an Empire, calling himself the "Emperor Caesar."

It was during Russell's reign that the Church of the God of Crafts received the first public oracle since the Fifth Era, changing the title of the "God of Crafts" to the "God of Steam and Machinery."

Russell also invented tarot divination and laid down the current composition and rules of the cards, including several types that Zhou Mingrui was familiar with, such as Upgrading, Landlords, Texas, and Quint... 

In addition, he sent fleets to find passages to the South Continent in storms and turbulent currents, opening the colonial era.

Unfortunately, after he grew old, he was betrayed and assassinated in the White Maple Palace in the 1198th year of the Fifth Era by the united forces of the Church of the Eternal Sun, the Soren family of the original Endis royal family, and other nobles.

This... remembering these common sense details, Zhou Mingrui suddenly felt a bit toothache.

Could this woman be a predecessor who traveled here?

Thinking of this, Zhou Mingrui was interested in seeing what the tarot cards here looked like. So he nodded to the woman wearing the pointed hat and face paint and said:

"If, um, the price is right, I'll give it a try."

The woman instantly smiled and said, "Sir, you're the first one to come for a reading today, it's free."