pertwk Chapter 134 Borrowing Money
Chapter 134 Borrowing Money
Chapter 134 Borrowing Money
Inside a classic three-story building on the outskirts of Bamberg Park, at the junction of the West End, Joewood, and South Bridge.
Having officially joined the divination enthusiasts club, Sirian sat alone in a corner by the window on the second floor, quietly gazing at the artificial lake in the park.
Of course, members of the club generally do not consider themselves just enthusiasts; they usually call themselves "Zhanxiajia" or "Zhanxia masters," and occasionally there will be one or two newcomers who are still learning and are called "Zhanxia apprentices."
"Sirius? What are you doing here? I thought I was seeing things."
A familiar voice came from behind, and Cyril turned around in surprise.
Then Irving, with slightly disheveled hair, dressed in a sharp suit with a classic black robe embroidered with intricate symbols and patterns draped over it, and holding an astrolabe in his hand, walked over with a strange expression on his face.
Cyril's lips twitched slightly. He looked him up and down several times, barely suppressing the urge to retort, and said:
"What kind of outfit is that? Are you trying to blend into contemporary society as a classical wizard, or just a lover of classical aesthetics?"
"Um..." Owen scratched his head awkwardly, then said with a hint of helplessness:
"There's no other way; only by dressing like this can I demonstrate my professionalism and attract more clients."
"I am clearly the real 'fortune teller,' but most people who come here for help only look at my appearance and listen to the so-called experience of laymen, going to find those more famous fortune tellers, even though they are just ordinary people with nothing special about them."
Cyril shook his head slightly:
"That's not true. Ordinary people with high intuition and extensive knowledge can also make relatively accurate divinations."
"Besides, you said they are laymen, so of course they can't distinguish between the real and the fake as accurately as we do."
"You're right." Irving nodded, pulled up a chair, and sat down opposite him.
"So now I've joined the ranks of those who claim to be masters of self-promotion, marketing myself through my appearance and client reviews."
"By the way, you still haven't said why you came here?"
"Find a place to digest the potion." Cyril made no attempt to hide his purpose.
Owen paused for a moment, then exclaimed, "That's a good idea. I thought you were like me, looking for a suitable, easy, and well-paying job."
As the two were talking, someone else approached.
She was a woman with brown hair and brown eyes, her long, loose, curly hair cascading casually down her back.
She wore a simple, classic robe adorned with delicate crystals, and various badges and brooches were worn from her shoulders to her chest.
It seemed to be a prop she carried with her. She was wearing a pointed soft hat on her head, and holding a fist-sized transparent crystal ball in both hands. There was a dark green malachite ring on the middle finger of her right hand.
Compared to the incongruous Owen, this woman not only resembled a true classical wizard in her attire but also in her demeanor.
Under Cyril's gaze, the woman, who possessed a classic wizarding air, stopped two meters away from him and nodded slightly.
"Newcomer? Hello, my name is Melina Rosen, the most famous divination master of the Clover Club, and also an expert in occultism."
"If you have any questions about divination or mystical studies, feel free to come to me anytime."
"Fate led us to meet here, and I think you are the one I have been waiting for."
After saying that, she turned and left without waiting for Sirion's reply or reaction.
Sirion narrowed his eyes slightly; with his true vision, he could clearly see the intense spirituality emanating from Ms. Melina Rosen.
It's roughly at the level of sequence 7, but more concentrated than typical sequence 7.
...She sounded very mysterious. Her tone just now seemed to be very certain that I would have some interaction with her later. Is she an extraordinary person who has passed through the "destiny" path?
Her eyes also had some issues; they looked fake to me, like a clumsy disguise.
After clearing his mind for a moment, he turned to Owen and asked, "Do you know her?"
The latter nodded slightly: "I know her. Apart from newcomers like you, everyone in the Clover Club knows her, and some even idolize her."
He paused, then leaned closer and whispered:
"I suspect she's extraordinary; her divinations are incredibly accurate, and her interpretations are even more insightful than mine as a 'diviner.'"
"Also, she is a real expert in the occult, the kind of person who is very knowledgeable. Anyway, I have never seen a question that can stump her."
"But she was also very mysterious; aside from necessary interactions, she rarely interacted with other people in the club."
"This is the first time she's suddenly come up to you and start a conversation like this. Do you think she has a crush on you?"
Cyril rolled her eyes at him: "This isn't Intis, or Fenneport, where having children is a source of pride."
After a two-second silence, he took a gold coin out of his pocket and tossed it into the air with a clang.
Owen, sitting opposite him, looked at him with a puzzled expression: "Does this even require divination?"
Cyril remained silent, glanced at the gold coin in his hand that was face down, and quietly put it back in his pocket.
The next second, a thick gray mist suddenly appeared before his eyes, with a deep red light rising within it, then rapidly contracting and coalescing into the image of Sherlock Moriarty praying in the room:
"Dear Mr. 'Fool,' please convey my message to Mr. 'Fate,' I have something to discuss with him."
Looking for me again? Do you think I'm Doraemon's magic pocket?
He muttered something to himself, then nodded slightly towards the blurry figure deep within the gray fog:
"I understand. Please tell your patron, Mr. 'World,' that I will come over after dark tonight."
After he answered, the gray fog in front of him suddenly dissipated.
...Since you didn't refute it, does that mean you're already planning to reveal this identity to me?
As he pondered, Irving waved his hand in front of his eyes: "What are you thinking about?"
Coming to his senses, he shook his head slightly and said, "No, I'm just a little hungry and thinking about how to have dinner tonight."
Irving, unsuspecting, said, "Then I recommend you try the club's food. It might look a bit odd, but the taste is pretty good."
Most importantly, it's free.
"Perfect timing, I'm a little hungry too, let's go together, it's on the first floor."
Soon, Cyril saw the oddly shaped food that Owen had mentioned... It can only be said that Owen's description was rather conservative.
As Sirion watched the strangely shaped rats, bats, and snakes on the plate twitch slightly at the corners of their eyes, he turned to look at the beverage area and then saw the various viscous liquids in the black jugs.
...This shouldn't be a cafeteria, it's an evil witch's laboratory!
Noticing that Sirion had stopped, Owen explained to him as if it were nothing out of the ordinary:
"Don't panic, it's just a costume, not a real rat or bat or anything."
According to the staff here, every dish is a product of the chef's meticulous preparation. It is not only food, but also a manifestation of wizarding culture and a work of art.
.—（○_○;） —
Am I misunderstanding wizarding culture, or are the chefs here misunderstanding wizarding culture?
"Were the chefs here captured by some evil wizard and used as test subjects?"
Irving shrugged: "Many people here think the same way you do, but they ultimately succumb to the temptation of free food."
Cyril: "I have reservations about the food you're talking about."
"Hmm..."
Man: "Okay...actually, the taste is alright."
He swallowed the bat-wing-shaped fried fish fillet that was stuffed into his mouth, hesitated for a moment, and ultimately couldn't bring himself to say something against his conscience.
Irving, with an air of experience, said, "Hey... this is the mental journey everyone goes through when they walk into the cafeteria."
Evening, Joewood district.
Because of the thick smog, the sky, which should have been dusk, was reduced to a faint glimmer of light, and the gas streetlights on both sides of the street were turned on.
At 15 Minsk Street, ripples of a deep blue light suddenly spread across the tightly closed bay window, quickly coalescing into an illusory door.
Then Cyril leaped out from behind the "door".
In the living room, Klein watched the figure leap out of the window and said helplessly:
"Next time you can use the main entrance, I promise I'll open it for you immediately."
Cyril nodded earnestly: "Yes, definitely next time."
...Don't think I don't know the subtext of "next time is definitely", you impolite time traveler.
After mentally grumbling for a moment, Klein returned the Peacekeeper and Inquisitor Rings he had borrowed to Cyril. He hesitated for another two seconds before saying:
"You should have already guessed who I am, so I won't explain any further."
"I'd like to purchase the extraordinary materials I need through Mr. 'The Hanged Man's' channels, but I'm currently short on funds. So, do you have any spare money?"
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...I knew it, they didn't call me over just to return the magical item.
Cyril hesitated for a moment before nodding. "...Okay."
"I thought you would try to sell me some potion recipes, after all, you have quite a few, including some at the demigod level."
Klein's eyes lit up, and he immediately asked, "Are you going to buy it?"
"No." Sirion shook his head seriously.