Mystery: The Ancient God is Actually Me Chapter 23

Klein couldn't help but be surprised when he saw that Ms. Amani's body suddenly became tense and then gradually relaxed.

Just when he wondered about Fran's "sudden" action, a picture quickly popped up in his mind. He saw the state and movements of his entire body, as if he was looking in a mirror.

What's wrong with my eyes? Klein noticed that in the picture reflected in his mind, his eyes had been dyed completely black, gloomy.

Fran looked at Klein, who had been silent, and suddenly said:

"Don't worry, it's just the leakage of the potion just after promotion, which is a normal phenomenon."

"You can now try to stabilize your spirituality first, and use meditation to help yourself control the spillover effects of the potion."

Klein nodded, vaguely understanding, and said vaguely:

"Thank you for your reminder, Your Excellency Amani."

Fran frowned awkwardly, moved her position for the first time, took two steps back, hid herself in the shadow outside the dim light, and said in a low voice:

"Okay, now you go and call other members, other members who know the 'acting method', I need to witness their oath."

Klein stared indifferently at the shadow where Fran Amani was for a few seconds, nodded silently, walked out of the alchemy room carefully, and closed the secret door at the end.

In the Mass Hall of the Holy Wind Cathedral, Alger was sitting on a bench, with his hands folded, tightly pressing his low head, and praying devoutly.

The bright sunlight reflects the shimmering shattered spots under the stained glass windows with wave patterns. They are refracted on the unique stone-column corridor of the Church of the Storms, which is made of both gold and silver. As a foil, the cherished wonders far away in the Sunya Sea are reproduced.

Alger lowered his eyes and recited several classic chapters in the Book of Storms over and over again under the illumination of the Storm Sacred Emblem, not paying any attention to the comings and goings of ordinary people around him.

It wasn't until evening when the servants in the Cathedral of the Holy Wind were about to replace the candles for the candlesticks everywhere, Alger finished his prayers, stood up straight, and faced the huge storm holy emblem in the depths of the mass hall, as well as the chanting platform. The bishop who was preaching to the believers before, a Sequence Seven navigator, solemnly bowed.

Seeing Alger salute so formally, the bishop who was chanting the scriptures also raised his right arm and beat it **** his chest, expressing his approval of his piety.

Alger nodded invisibly, and then walked out of the mass hall softly.

But he did not choose to leave the church directly. Instead, he first returned to the "punisher" lounge located in the basement of the church, and put on a half-old work clothes that were not too conspicuous. After that, he joined a few believers who left. Exit the Holy Wind Cathedral.

For the sake of privacy, he did not choose to take a public carriage, but took a relatively clean-looking rental carriage at the edge of the Western District.

Sitting in the carriage, Alger concealed his hand to an iron-gray charm in his pocket, and then leaned back against the seat, letting his thoughts fall into a haze.

In the darkness, he "saw" dozens of transparent silk threads that were densely interacting with each other. They were either thin or thick, but there was no exception. They were only faint gray-white rays of light. Only Alger's body extended from his body. A dark blue and black phantom silk thread appeared, which was particularly abrupt.

After several confirmations, Alger quickly got out of the weird and hazy atmosphere, and his consciousness returned to reality.

The reason why he wastes half a day praying in the mass hall today is not only to show his loyalty to the middle and high level of the church, but also to take advantage of this opportunity to avoid being disturbed by other affairs.

Today he is going to try to contact the mysterious angel, Edmund Jason, a self-proclaimed follower of The Fool.

In the Church of Storms, such behavior is absolute. It is blasphemy and betrayal of God. Once found, he will be sent to the sect, and what awaits him will be the pain of the sealed artifact experimenter who is worse than death and has no light. life, so he had to be cautious.

Fortunately, no stalker was found in the investigation just now. Oh, the people of the church have always not trusted us "captains"... Alger slowly exhaled, and he was sitting in the front of the carriage, showing a slight hint of confusion. The old coachman said:

"It's fine to park in a place with more bars in the Backlund Bridge area. You don't need to go to the place just now."

As a person who hides secrets, it is impossible for him to let others know his exact destination.

In the evening, the Backlund Bridge area was full of clerks and senior workers returning home from get off work, or gray or dark blue figures filled the entire street.

Alger got out of the car ahead of schedule at a congested intersection. After paying the fare, he instinctively moved away from the crowded center of the road and went to a relatively remote place.

The bushes mixed with black, green and burnt red swayed slightly, and the dim yellow light of the gas street light pulled Alger's shadow, pulling it very slender, until it reached the noisy and bright street intersection.

"Iron Gate Street..." Alger glanced at the sign on the street sign and said silently.

This is an old street with relatively sparse traffic. Due to the lack of street lights, the lights here are also slightly dim, so a layer of gray filter is shrouded in it.

With his good night vision, Alger found a bar hidden between a back alley and a street corner.

The bar looked very "professional". The most conspicuous features were the heavy black wooden door and a big man with arms around two meters.

Alger didn't hide it, and walked directly to the door of the bar.

Due to his long years of wandering at sea, he has obvious wind and rain, a bronze-colored complexion, and a face with deep features and rough outlines, he was not blocked by the big man, but because With his dark blue hair and sharp, gloomy eyes, the big man who was nearly two meters tall still glanced at Alger with half curiosity and half fear.

Just as Alger pushed the heavy black wooden door open a crack, he heard cheers and toasts coming from it, which made both himself and the big man squirm and swallow.

Immediately afterwards, he pushed open the heavy door and squeezed in. After swinging the wooden door a few times, Alger's figure completely disappeared behind the darkness.

At this time, it was the peak of the bar business. As soon as Alger entered, he felt the heat wave blowing towards his face. Stimulated by the strong aroma of malt wine, he suddenly felt that he had returned to the sea, and he could no longer need to wait any longer. At any moment, he was afraid, worried that Qilingos would be caught and confessed himself, and that he had been killed.

Feeling the noisy atmosphere, he glanced sharply across the bar, and saw two tables in the center of the bar. One was performing a dog catching a mouse, and the other had two medium-sized, muscular men. Boxers are fighting each other to attract the attention of the surrounding audience.

There is a large degree of performance in it... Just a few casual glances, Alger can distinguish the essence of the lively game being played on the stage, and the corners of his mouth can't help but curl up.

Then he stopped observing, protected his pockets and purse, squeezed through the excited crowd, walked to the bar, and said in habit:

"A glass of Lie Langzi."

The bartender raised his head and glanced at him, put down the popular picture album in his hand, and groped for the wine barrel instead, and replied in a muttered voice:

"Eightpence."

"Is there a separate room here?" Alger put down the coins he had prepared in advance and asked casually after taking the barrel cup.

The bartender regained his spirits a little, looked at him a few times, and a schadenfreude crept onto his face:

"Unfortunately, several of our billiard rooms have been reserved."

"Heh, our boss occupied one by himself. You can only try to find him now. If he is happy, he might give you that room."

Alger frowned and quickly asked:

"Where is he?"

The bartender patted his hands soaked with the drink, wiped it on the towel, raised his arm and pointed to the side.

"In the pool room No. 3, hey, be careful, he has a bad temper."

"Did someone say you talk a lot?" Alger drank the half-cup of Lie Langzi in one gulp, pushed the cup to the other direction of the bar, and walked straight to the pool outside No. 3.

He didn't directly raise his hand to knock on the door, but tapped the wooden door with his toes. The seemingly solid door opened up automatically, revealing the scene of the billiards room.

The two men with pool cues inside settled on their movements, stood up straight, and looked at the door in unison.

"Who is the boss here?" Alger broke the silence and asked directly.

Hearing these words, a half-hundred-year-old man in a linen shirt and a big nose looked at Alger a few times, and after seeing his appearance, he smiled lowly:

"I am, are you here to erect the pole?"

"I just want to borrow this room." Alger shook his head and closed the door.

The half-hundred-year-old man sat down at once, slowly took out a cigarette from the pocket of his linen shirt, lit it, and smoked it.

There is a huge scar on his face that is turned upside down. The scar seems to have been cut by some kind of semi-blunt knife. One of the scars stretches from the corner of the right eye to the right side of the mouth, lining his almost completely red wine trough. The nose is more pronounced.

Alger walked towards the other side of the billiard table with familiarity, with both hands supported on the billiard table, his voice calmly said:

"I have something. How much is this room for two hours?"

The old man was stunned for a moment, choked on the smoke twice, hehe laughed, and after a few seconds, he turned his head to look at the other man beside him with a billiard cue, looked at each other and laughed again. It took a while to relax, as if a mouthful of thick phlegm was stuck in his throat:

"Hehe, are you from outside?"

"People who come here often know that this is usually a place for me and my friends to spend time, and it will not be rented to outsiders. If you really have any secrets, or you want to be alone for a while, I suggest you go to the hotel in the narrator, there It will be easy to get a single room.”

The man next to him looked at Alger's indifferent expression, suddenly patted the old man, and said in a low voice:

"Hey, Caspers!"

Caspars waved his hand unconcernedly, touched his nose with his hand, took a deep breath and said:

"Don't worry about it, it's okay to rent, just be a friend."

"How much?" Alger's voice was still very calm.

"10 soles, after all, this room is not often used, is it normal that it is more expensive?" Kaspars responded by clearing his throat.

"It's more fair." Alger nodded slightly, took out a few banknotes while answering, counted two five-soul banknotes, and handed them out.

Kaspers smiled and accepted the money that Alger handed over, patted the relatively young man beside him, and walked out of the pool room with him by the shoulders.

After the wooden door of the billiard room No. 3 was completely closed, and after confirming that it had been tightly closed from the inside, Kaspers lowered his smile and said to the man beside him:

"Pierre, why did you shoot me just now?"

In Caspars' impression, Pierre is a very bold person, and it is said that the boss behind him is a person with special abilities.

Pierre pursed his lips and said thoughtfully:

"Caspers, that guy is probably from the sea, it's very dangerous."

"Well, it makes me feel more powerful than the boss."

Kaspars nodded solemnly, took a deep breath of cigarette, then slowly exhaled it, and quickly walked to the bar, away from the pool room No. 3 behind him.

Behind the wooden door of the billiard room, after Alger carefully determined that there was no hidden danger of being eavesdropped in the room, he softly walked to a chair, sat down slowly, and put his hands on the tip of his nose.

After a few breaths, as if he had made up his mind, he recited word by word the honorable name given to him by the angel, Edmund Jason:

"The embodiment of ancient legends."

"A symbol of mystery and rebirth."

"The immortal butterfly that walks with Jingguang under the mysterious seat."

"The great Edmund Jason the Corruptor."

Accompanied by the chanting in a low voice, the light and shadow in the entire billiard room were instantly closed by the gas lamp opposite Alger. It seemed that except for the dim light and Alger who was lying low in prayer, everything in this room was completely changed. Lost of color, it becomes a depressing, pure, fuzzy gray.

The deprived colors condensed in the only remaining light source in the house, interweaving into a colorful cocoon.

Click!

There seemed to be a crack on the surface of the illusory heavy cocoon, and it re-diffused into a dark purple light in the shape of a butterfly, which was very illusory and shadowy.

The illusory light and shadow reflected Alger's figure, silently suspended in mid-air without making a sound.

Feeling the changes in the house, Argel gathered up his courage and raised his head. He cast his eyes on the butterfly-shaped light and shadow in the air with trepidation in his heart.

The pure light-like phantom flickered a few times, and the place corresponding to the face was strangely reflected along the line, and the outline of Alger's face was outlined.

After the last stroke fell, the peculiar clear light was twisted for a while, and the entire billiard room returned to its original state.

Edmund Jason, who came through some kind of mysterious magic, raised the corners of his mouth, looked at Alger who bowed his head and saluted, and said with a smile:

"Wise choice."

Chapter end