Of course, this "obviousness" was only apparent to a "transmigrator" like himself, who knew the entire plot and possessed a sufficiently high level of status.
To others caught in the game, such as Klein, or the Nighthawks, they would only perceive all of this as a chain of logical, inevitable events.
Hainas Vansant was a member of the Aurora Order; him discovering something suspected to be a "sacred relic" and taking it away was very [reasonable].
When the Nighthawks arrived, the scene was empty because a higher-level Existence had intervened; this, too, was very [reasonable].
All these coincidences were wrapped in the cloak of "reasonableness." Only by meticulously reviewing everything from start to finish, as he had, could one catch the lingering scent of a "Spectator" from these faint clues.
Just like back when he realized Amon had come because of the "Anti-Scam Foundation"—looking back now, wasn't the promotion process of that Foundation a bit too smooth?
Official support, public response—everything was just right.
Furthermore, would an Existence of Amon's level really go out of their way to send a Sequence 6 avatar just for a Foundation in a mere mortal city?
Wasn't that a bit of an overreaction?
Nairn's "Spectator PTSD" was about to flare up.
He began to frantically recall whether any other "coincidences" had occurred since he arrived in this world.
Behind every smooth node, was there a pair of eyes watching silently, pushing things along?
"Mr. The Lovers?"
Klein's voice pulled Nairn back from his deep contemplation.
Seeing Nairn remain silent for so long, with the gray fog around him seemingly frozen, Klein felt a bit uneasy.
"Did you—did you discover something?"
Discover something? Klein's voice was like a needle, gently pricking the bubble of Nairn's contemplation.
Nairn looked up at Klein's face, which was full of worry and confusion, and the irritation of being played like a monkey by Adam calmed down slightly.
Tell Klein? How could he?
Tell him that above our heads is a King of Angels named Adam, a top-tier screenwriter and director, and that the play we are performing—including when you die, when you resurrect, and when you act as "Mr. Fool"—is all scripted by him?
Tell him that I, a transmigrator, originally wanted to mess up the script, but he effortlessly smoothed it back out and even took advantage of my actions to push the plot to an even more exciting climax?
Don't joke around.
Given Klein's current Sequence 9 status and mental fortitude, hearing this would be enough to make his sanity drop to zero on the spot, or perhaps even cause him to be directly corrupted by the truth of the "Spectator" Pathway.
This would bring no benefits, only increase his psychological burden and plunge him into endless panic and self-doubt.
Some truths are the most lethal poison to the weak.
The most urgent priority is to let him grow as quickly as possible. At the very least, he needs to possess a certain level of self-preservation ability.
"Don't ask." Nairn reined in all his outward emotions, his voice returning to its usual calm, but the weight it carried made Klein dare not ask another word.
"At your current level, knowing is useless; it would only bring you unimaginable disaster. You only need to remember that the waters in Tingen City will be much deeper and murkier than you imagine."
Klein met Nairn's deep eyes and felt as if he were staring into a bottomless whirlpool. He wisely shut his mouth and nodded firmly. He understood Nairn's intentions.
"So, what you need to do is not to concern yourself with things you cannot handle." Nairn's fingers tapped rhythmically against the long bronze table, producing a steady sound. "What you need to do is to become stronger as quickly as possible."
"Become stronger?" Klein asked, somewhat bewildered.
"Yes, digest your potion, then advance." Nairn's tone was unquestionable. "You must become a sequence 8 'Clown' as soon as possible. Only then can you have a bit more self-preservation ability in the coming storm, rather than just passively receiving information and being unable to do anything like you are now."
"Clown—" Klein muttered, a trace of longing in his eyes.
Of course he wanted to advance, but he hadn't even fully digested the "Seer" potion yet, let alone knowing where to find the formula and ingredients for a "Clown."
Seeming to see through Klein's predicament, Nairn spoke indifferently.
"The formula for the 'Clown' potion requires a horn crystal from an adult Hornacis gray goat and a complete, living Human-Faced Rose as the main ingredients."
Klein's eyes widened instantly. Just like that—he told me the formula?
"For supplementary ingredients," Nairn continued without pausing, "80 milliliters of pure water, 5 drops of Mandrake juice, 7 grams of Black-Bordered Sunflower powder, 10 grams of Gold Cloak Herb powder, and 3 drops of Poison Hemlock juice."
Every word was accurate and crystal clear. Klein's mind went blank; he instinctively wanted to commit this formula to memory—this was almost an instinct for a Beyonder.
"Did you write it down?" There was no emotion in Nairn's voice, as if he were merely explaining a trivial matter.
"I—I did." Klein nodded subconsciously, then reacted and quickly asked, "Senior, what is this—"
"It's for you." Nairn interrupted him. "But not for you to drink right now."
He paused, seemingly organizing his words to explain his complex plan in a way Klein could understand.
"Listen, Klein. The most important thing for you right now is to find a suitable opportunity to hand this 'Clown' formula over to the Nighthawks."
"Hand it over?" Klein was even more confused. "Why? Isn't this very precious?"
"Precisely because it is precious, you must hand it over." Nairn's voice carried a hint of instruction. "Think about it: you are a newcomer who only recently became a Beyonder, and your potion digestion speed is abnormally fast. Now, you've suddenly obtained the subsequent formula. If these two events coincide, how will your captain, your colleagues, and the high-ranking members of the Church view you?"
Klein's face instantly turned pale. He immediately understood what Nairn meant.
A fast digestion speed can be explained by innate talent and proper acting. But if you immediately produce the subsequent formula, that is an entirely different matter.
It is almost equivalent to writing on your face: "I am a mole sent by some secret organization to infiltrate the Church!"
By then, what awaits him likely wouldn't be rewards or promotion, but the harshest internal investigation by the Church, and he might even be "purified" on the spot.
"I understand—" Klein's voice was dry. "Before fully digesting the 'Seer' potion, I should hand in the formula. That way, there will be room to buffer and explain the source of the formula, and the speed of digesting the potion will just be proof that I am 'acting' well."
"Not too stupid yet." Nairn praised him. "This way, not only can the Nighthawks cross-verify the authenticity of the formula, but you can also earn a substantial amount of merit. Most importantly, this paves the way for your 'reasonable' and rapid advancement in the future."
Klein felt a wave of fear, while simultaneously feeling genuine admiration for Nairn's deep foresight. These details and hidden dangers that he never would have thought of himself had already been carefully considered by Senior Nairn.
Furthermore, Nairn continued, "It's just a sequence 8 formula; it's nothing to me."
Nairn's tone was casual, yet it carried an indescribable air of grandiosity.
"Besides, when did I say that you get to take all the benefits for yourself?"
Klein was stunned. He heard Nairn continue: "Actually, I have some other low-Sequence formulas here. After you hand in the 'Clown' formula, I will give you these as well."
"At that time, you can hand in a portion in batches under the guise of 'assisting the Church in enriching its formula library,' using a method like 'I accidentally learned of this from a certain channel.'"
"I'll take the lion's share of the merit, and you take the smaller share. However, you can also take the opportunity to memorize those formulas."
"Later, when you have the chance, you can find some small-scale Beyonder gatherings yourself and secretly resell a copy; that's easily hundreds or thousands of gold pounds in income. Just don't sell them in places like the Tarot Club and interfere with my'sales channels.'"
Klein's mouth opened wider and wider, his eyes filled with shock. What—what kind of maneuver is this?
Treating formulas like cabbage and wholesaling them to the Church, then letting himself, the "intermediary," go retail them outside? This is—fleecing the Church of the Goddess of Night?!
His worldview was once again violently shaken. In his perception, the Church was sacred, majestic, and inviolable.
Yet Senior Nairn was openly planning how to fish for benefits from the Church.
"This—this doesn't seem right, does it?" Klein's voice trembled slightly. "This is disrespectful to the Goddess—"
"Disrespectful?" Nairn laughed, as if he had heard the greatest joke. He sneered, "Klein, get one thing straight. I am 'doing business' with the Church, not robbing them. I provide the knowledge they desperately need, and they pay the corresponding price; it is only natural."
"Besides," Nairn's tone became playful. "Is the formula library of the Tingen City branch completely shared with the Holy Cathedral's library? No, it isn't, and there is a huge information gap and circulation barrier involved. I am simply utilizing this 'rule.'"
"The Church trades merit for the formulas they desperately need, you accumulate merit and earn extra money, and I use information that is useless to me to get what I need. It's a triple win; what a great thing."
"What you need?" Klein asked instinctively.
"Correct." Nairn did not hide his purpose. "gold pounds don't mean much to me, but I am very interested in those rare Beyonder ingredients and Mystical Items. Most of the things you exchange for with your merit must be handed over to me as payment for this 'collaboration.'"
After all, information between the headquarters of the Church of the Goddess of Night and the various dioceses was not completely shared, especially regarding intelligence like low-Sequence formulas which were not top-secret. The Nighthawk team in a small place like Tingen certainly had a limited number of formulas. If Klein could provide a large amount of rare external formulas, it would definitely be a huge contribution to the Tingen diocese!
In this process, the Church traded merit for the formulas they desperately needed and expanded their Foundation. As an "intermediary," Klein not only gained the trust of his superiors and massive merit, but could also "legally" keep these formulas for himself, opening up a brand-new path to wealth.
And Mr. The Lovers, behind the scenes, used a pile of information that was useless to him to easily obtain the resources he wanted from the behemoth that was the Church of the Goddess of Night. Three birds with one stone! Everyone gets benefits.
"As for the specific operations, handle it yourself. You are a 'Seer' and a former history student; making up a reasonable story shouldn't be difficult for you. Remember, the key lies in the 'rhythm.' Don't hand it all out at once; that would be too fake."
"Also," Nairn's voice suddenly became profound. "While you are still 'alive,' hurry up and grab as many benefits as you can. gold pounds, Beyonder ingredients, Mystical Items—as long as the Church is willing to give, just ask for them. Don't be afraid to ask for the moon; the value you provide is worth any reward."
While—still alive? Klein's heart sank abruptly. He remembered the topic Nairn had mentioned before about his own "destiny."
"Mr. The Lovers," he couldn't help asking, "what do you mean by 'alive'? Will I—will I encounter great danger in the future?"
"Danger?" Nairn chuckled. "Klein, from the moment you stepped into the Beyonder world, you haven't had a single safe day. Do you think you are safe now? The Sealed Artifacts you touch every day, the cases you investigate, the enemies lurking around you—which one of them isn't trying to take your life?"
His words were like a basin of ice water, extinguishing the small glimmer of security that had just ignited in Klein's heart.
"When I said 'alive,' it was a metaphor." Nairn switched to a gentler tone. "I mean that your easygoing time in Tingen won't last much longer. Soon, a huge storm will sweep through here, and you are right at the center of the storm. So, hurry up and accumulate enough strength so that you can truly 'live' through that storm."
Klein fell silent. Nairn wouldn't speak without purpose. These words were almost a clear indication that a major change was about to happen in Tingen City, and his own destiny would reach a turning point in that upheaval.
"I understand," he said in a deep voice. "I will act as soon as possible."
"That's right." Nairn nodded approvingly. The beating was about enough; it was time to give a little sweetness. He didn't want to scare away his "lead actor."
"Don't be too nervous," Nairn's tone became relaxed again. "With me and Mr. Fool here, you won't die. At most, you'll just change your 'alias,' change your identity, and go see a wider world."
Klein: "6"
How does this sound like it has zero comforting effect?
Mr. Fool—isn't that just myself? What if he actually dies!
Klein couldn't help but complain internally, also understanding Nairn's plan—this was to take advantage of the time Klein was still with the Nighthawks to quickly squeeze out more value and farm more gold coins from him!
Before Klein's newbie village quest ended, all resources and benefits had to be squeezed dry!
"I understand, Senior!" Klein's eyes became firm. "What should I do?"
"Very good." Nairn nodded satisfactorily. "These are low-Sequence potion formulas; you should memorize them first."
As he spoke, Nairn began to recite in one breath: "The 'Hermit' Pathway: Sequence 9 'Mystery Pryer,' sequence 8 'Melee Scholar'—"
"The 'Lawyer' Pathway: Sequence 9 'Lawyer,' sequence 8 'Barbarian'—"
"The 'Monster' Pathway: Sequence 9 'Monster,' sequence 8 'Robot'—"
A series of potion formulas flooded into Klein's mind like a tide.
Except for those Pathways that clearly belonged to evil gods and were highly taboo, as well as formulas involving core Church Pathways like the "Punishers" and "Machinery Hivemind," Nairn said almost all the low-Sequence formulas he knew that were suitable to be thrown out at the current stage.
Klein's brain spun at high speed, desperately memorizing this knowledge that was enough to stir up quite a wave in the outside world.
He felt as if he weren't attending some mysterious gathering, but rather a high-intensity pre-exam cram session. And the "teacher" on the podium was preparing to flip the entire exam hall.