107: Chapter 45 Russell's Diary

Within a few short weeks, the market price for the full set of Beyonder materials for the Spectator Pathway had steadily risen, with the increase visible to the naked eye.

The purchasers were a group of Psychology Alchemists members who acted in unison and with restrained style. They were financially affluent and generous; as long as the materials were verified as authentic, they almost never negotiated and swept up the goods decisively.

Several shops specializing in niche Beyonder materials made a fortune from this, but when the shopkeepers chatted privately, they all harbored some fear and doubt.

This group of Psychology Alchemists was extremely peculiar. They were silent throughout the transactions, leaving immediately after buying without chatting, leaving no names or addresses. They made no unnecessary probes, and their behavior was rigid and disciplined, not at all like Beyonders who frequented the black market. Instead, they were like a group of rule-abiding scholars and professors coming to purchase supplies—calm, rational, and completely devoid of the usual grime.

Inside Abraham's shop, Lu Li's fingertips grazed over a brand-new issue of the black market price report, a faint glimmer in his eyes as he took in all the recent price anomalies.

In just two weeks, the price of the core main material for the Sequence 9 [Spectator] had skyrocketed by nearly half, and the price of the accompanying auxiliary materials for Sequence 8 [Telepathist] had also risen by nearly thirty percent. Such bulk purchasing, which disregarded costs and concentrated resources, was definitely not for cultivating low-level ordinary members.

"They are extremely picky." Abraham closed the thick ledger and added in a deep voice, his words carrying the keenness of someone who had spent many years in the black market.

"They only accept top-quality, spiritually intact goods for the Sequence 9 main material. If there is even the slightest flaw or spiritual decay, they return it directly without any compromise. Moreover, they only focus on Spectator Pathway materials and ignore all other Sequence supplies."

At this point, he looked up at Lu Li, his tone firm: "This isn't bulk resupply; it's targeted, high-spec, exclusive cultivation. The Psychology Alchemists are pouring all their efforts into supporting a newcomer. The resource tilt is immense; this person's identity and potential are absolutely extraordinary."

Lu Li tapped his fingers on the table, his mind rapidly connecting all the clues, instantly outlining the truth: born into the nobility, with an affluent family background and top-tier upbringing, just entering the Beyonder world, full of curiosity and ignorance, and happened to be targeted by the Psychology Alchemists.

The other party was secretly paving the way and hoarding resources, waiting for the person to officially step into the extraordinary realm before offering an invitation to join the organization and taking them under their wing.

He picked up a sticky note, wrote down two simple letters—[A.H.]—and gently pushed it in front of Abraham.

"I've seen this signature on the old register of the Spectator Pathway material shop."

Abraham glanced at it, understanding in his heart, and tacitly did not pursue the secret. Instead, he revealed a key piece of information that had come from across the ocean: "The Aurora Order main force on the black sail ship at Storm Cape remains silent, with no spiritual activity. But news from peers in the Southern Continent indicates that there was a secret intersection deep in the Fog Sea—that long-silent black sail ship had briefly contacted a small cargo ship with no flag markings."

He paused, emphasizing his tone: "The final route of that nameless cargo ship points directly to Backlund. You can keep an eye on the cargo registration records of the Dock District recently; perhaps you can ferret out the tail hidden in the shadows."

Leaving Abraham's place, Lu Li walked slowly eastward along the bank of the Hoi River. The early spring river water was clear and cool, and the river breeze carried moist water vapor, brushing over the entire bustling city.

Walking to the steps of Warehouse No. 4 in the Dock District, he saw Old Kohler squatting in the corner, gnawing on black bread.

Seeing someone approach, Old Kohler immediately put down the food in his hand and carefully took out an item wrapped in old newspaper from his bosom. He unwrapped it layer by layer, revealing several brand-new drawings inside—they were his daughter's latest works.

The color palette of the paintings was gentle and delicate, encompassing all the warm, mundane life in the child's eyes. The old oak tree was vigorous and upright, the angel signpost next to the church stood quietly, the old man from the old bookstore, the gentle landlady of the bakery—all jumped onto the paper.

And in the most prominent position of the entire painting stood a young lady wearing a wide-brimmed hat.

The brim of the hat was adorned with a faint light blue ribbon, and her posture was elegant as she stood under the old oak tree, holding a drawing paper in her hand. On the drawing paper, a figure with a backpack adorned with copper buttons was meticulously outlined—it was exactly Lu Li's appearance.

"That young lady has been coming to the Dock District every evening recently." Old Kohler's tone was gentle, carrying a bit of gratitude, "She doesn't like noise; she just squats quietly at the church entrance, watching a group of children draw, staying for half an hour at a time, and often distributes candy to the children."

"Last week, she gave my girl a box of colored pencils imported from Intis. The colors were bright and complete—it's a good thing we've never seen before."

He couldn't help but chuckle, his eyes full of satisfaction, "The girl was so happy she couldn't sleep all night, always saying that the big sister was gentle and beautiful, even more moving than the noble princesses in picture books."

At the same time, at No. 15 Mingde Street, Sherlock Moriarty's detective agency was as quiet as ever.

The spring daylight spilled through the glass window, falling on the neatly stacked commission files.

The noble young lady who hadn't appeared for a long time visited again. This time, she shed all disguises and probes, frankly stating her true identity—Audrey Hall.

She brought a special commission, sincerely hiring Sherlock Moriarty to serve as her private consultant for the Beyonder world.

By then, Audrey had already glimpsed the tip of the iceberg of the extraordinary world through various secret channels, knowing the existence of Sequences, potions, and secret organizations.

But the unknown Darkness was full of crises; evil gods, loss of control, brainwashing, and assassinations were everywhere. She urgently needed a reliable and experienced guide to help her avoid risks and move forward steadily.

For this, she was willing to pay a very generous reward.

Sherlock closed the special commission file, leaned back in his chair, and a helpless yet playful smile curved at the corner of his mouth.

The Fool who sat above the gray fog now had to take orders in the mortal world, becoming Miss Justice's private consultant, and even had to charge a fee.

If this matter were brought up at the Tarot Club regular meeting, I'm afraid the calm and cautious Hanged Man would be silent for a long time, and finally comment—it fits Mr. Fool's style of doing things perfectly.

He raised his hand to brew a cup of warm black tea, the steam curling, the warmth radiating, and then sat at the table, picking up a pen to draft the private consultant contract.

When writing the fee standard column, he hesitated slightly. The daughter of the Hall family was wealthy, and her casual pocket money far exceeded the total value of this agency.

But after thinking for a while, he still chose to quote according to the market's regular consultant fees, not wanting to take advantage of the situation, adhering to his original intention and sense of proportion.

Before finishing, he deliberately added a conspicuous disclaimer: This consultant is not responsible for any consequences caused by Beyonder force majeure, including but not limited to Sealed Artifact loss of control, evil god pollution, secret organization assassination, Psychology Alchemists mental brainwashing, and all other extraordinary crises.

A few days later, Lu Li traversed various parts of the black market and finally caught a key clue in a newly opened extraordinary material shop.

The shopkeeper of this shop was a Sequence 8 Telepathist, mainly engaged in emotional verification and psychological exploration for nobles and wealthy merchants.

Inside the shop, it was filled with auxiliary tools suitable for the Telepathist's abilities: spiritual ink that accurately captured emotional fluctuations, special lenses that magnified micro-expressions, and several copies of "Introduction to Basic Psychology Alchemists Meditation" that were repeatedly read with frayed edges, everywhere showing a deep connection with the Psychology Alchemists.

Lu Li casually flipped through the shop's transaction register and quickly discovered an abnormality.

In the past few days, someone had purchased a large quantity of a full set of auxiliary materials for the Spectator Sequence 9 potion, covering spiritual ink, emotional lenses, basic meditation classics, and other supporting supplies. The total procurement volume was enough to concoct the potion several times.

But the strange thing was that there was no record of any main material purchase throughout the process.

The clue became clear instantly: the purchaser had already held the core main material for the Sequence 9 potion in advance. Coming to the market this time was only to supplement the missing auxiliary materials, and they were about to officially concoct the potion and step into the Spectator Pathway.

Quietly leaving the shop, Lu Li paused at the door for a moment. In the air, there remained a trace of extremely faint, almost imperceptible spiritual fluctuation.

Compared to a few days ago, this aura was becoming weaker and more restrained. Obviously, the other party was deliberately restraining their own spirituality, trying their best to hide their tracks to avoid being detected by the black market powerhouses.

Such a cautious and low-key style of action was enough to prove—the actions of this group of purchasers were not an open layout instructed by the Psychology Alchemists' top management; it was highly likely a private operation within a small internal circle, and even the top management was completely unaware of it.

Twilight descended, and the evening breeze was cool.

Lu Li went to the Water Pump Street bookstore again. Old Eye was bending over to organize piles of new and old ancient books. Seeing him arrive, he took a neatly folded note from the drawer and placed it on the counter.

This was the internal message of the Secret Order that Vera had someone pass on.

The Secret Order maintained an absolute neutral attitude towards the Psychology Alchemists' recent large-scale activities in Backlund.

As long as the other party did not touch the Antigonus Ruins, forbidden ancient studies, family seals, and other core restricted areas, the two sides would not interfere with each other and would not conflict.

At the end of the message, Vera attached a valuable ancient book discovery.

In the dusty basement of the Secret Order library, she unearthed an ancient manuscript that had been forgotten for many years. The title page happened to have that widely circulated Roselle quote: "True freedom is not breaking free from all shackles, but choosing which ones to wear."

After handwriting comparison and literature tracing, she found that the handwriting style and writing habits of this sentence were highly consistent with the manuscript of a collateral member of the Antigonus Family.

It was inferred that Roselle might not be the originator of this sentence; it was highly likely that he had excerpted it from the Antigonus ancient texts before concluding a deal with the Snake of Fate.

Vera had already begun to organize the relevant research notes. Once the article was written, she would give Lu Li a complete copy at the first opportunity.

Lu Li carefully folded the note and put it into his pocket, casually asking if there were any new anomalies in the black market recently.

Old Eye pondered for a moment and told a piece of fresh news: apart from the Psychology Alchemists' material sweep, a special one-time charm had recently been circulating in the black market, which could allow ordinary people to briefly possess the passive emotional perception ability of the Spectator Pathway.

The charm had a very short effective time, but it was expensive and in short supply.

It was rumored that the charm came from the hands of a retired and reclusive Psychology Alchemists member, and the formula originated from an ancient alchemy fragment left over from the Roselle era.

As his voice fell, Old Eye suddenly remembered an old matter and added: "I received a private old notebook of Roselle last year, which had a very interesting sentence written in it."

He slowly recounted the prophecy that traversed time and space:

"Fate is a snake connected from head to tail. You think you are moving forward, but in fact, you are just circling on its scales."

In the interlayer of this yellowed and old notebook, there was also a faded blank piece of paper, with very faint pencil marks on the surface, only two characters clearly identifiable—Traveler.

The handwriting was old and weathered, definitely not written in modern times. It was unknown whether it was Roselle's own annotation or a secret mark left by a predecessor even earlier.

Old Eye did not delve into it, just kept it properly as it was.

Hearing this, Lu Li's mood sank slightly, but his expression remained calm.

The world was vast, the years were long, and beneath this prosperous ancient city of Backlund, countless secrets sealed by time and foreshadowing spanning eras were buried.

Roselle's footprints were all over the cracks of history, and the closed loop of fate had already quietly taken shape.

He was just one of the thousands of passersby in time, like walking on the scales of the giant Snake of Fate, following the fragmented clues, step by step pushing aside the fog, looking for the final truth.