When the plot-skips players into the game world

Despite deducing that their enemy was likely the Hook Demon, a successor of Jack the Ripper, Aiwass Moriarty, his three companions, and the child did not let down their guard, convinced of this conclusion.

Just to be safe, they remained hidden in the abandoned chemical factory, secretly watching the only entrance.

Aiwass couldn't reveal his Transcendence Path abilities, so he couldn't create anti-demon arrays, much less explain the habits and weaknesses of the Hook Demon.

Since there was nothing else to do, he simply found a seat upstairs with Lulu and sat down for a chat. They talked about music, poetry, philosophy, the nonexistent "I have a friend," recounted various secrets of the continent, and shared vulgar rumors that circulated only among the lower classes. Time flew by quickly.

In between, they even took the time to extend Little Aiwass's lullaby to ensure he wouldn't wake up panicked.

It was then that they realized that the couple, along with Little Aiwass, hadn't eaten breakfast. It was just after ten o'clock, and they were starting to feel hungry.

Fortunately, this year Little Aiwass was already four years old and had been weaned a long time ago. Otherwise, if he were still a baby, crying uncontrollably from hunger upon waking, Aiwass might have had to step aside politely.

For a four-year-old child, going hungry for a couple of meals wasn't a big deal.

Aiwass himself said so. He said it was fine.

After all, according to the original history, in a few days, Little Aiwass would be entering the orphanage. By then, going hungry would become a daily occurrence. But according to the timeline of this fabricated world, Julio and Annie clearly didn't have to die, and Little Aiwass should be able to grow up alongside his biological parents.

Of course, the possibility of this future existed only in their idle chat.

This dreamlike world seemed incredibly real, with all sorts of tactile sensations and feelings of hunger, but it was undeniably fabricated—filled with various incongruities in the details, continually reminding the ritual participants that this was just a temporary, fictional world.

It was as if by doing so, people would regard the stories that occurred during this ritual as equally illusory.

On the other hand, it was Lulu, the inexperienced newcomer, who seriously discussed with Aiwass the possible developments in this world and speculated on the reasons they encountered this problem.

She guessed that the biological parents of Aiwass Moriarty must have been killed by the Hook Demon... but she couldn't figure out why Little Aiwass survived. Afterward, she began to discuss enthusiastically with Aiwass all the possible scenarios of their being attacked.

Sherlock mentioned once, "The stories that happen in this world don't necessarily coincide with the real world," but Lulu clearly wasn't listening. He didn't speak further and could not be bothered to listen—instead, he turned around and set off on an adventure in the chemical factory, satisfying his curiosity and thirst for knowledge.

There was some benefit to it, after all.

Sherlock found two bottles of distilled water and a bottle of concentrated sulfuric acid in the abandoned laboratory. They could be used as materials for casting spells. After that, Sherlock began to pore over the documents in the abandoned chemical factory, engrossed in the various leftover files he had found.

He was like a detective invited to investigate an abandoned chemical factory, earnestly probing the incident.

As an Adapter of the Path of Wisdom, he naturally had a strong reading habit. Compared to chitchat, this kind of reading was a more satisfying pastime for him.

"I think I understand why this chemical factory was abandoned..."

Sherlock returned content and smiling with satisfaction. But just as he was about to share his deduction with Aiwass, he saw the two still chatting in the same place—they had started with art, gone full circle, and come back to art again.

The newsboy covered in grey raised his eyebrows, twirling the bottle of sulfuric acid in his hand, "Haven't you finished chatting yet?"

"Chatting, you see, is an exchange of souls."

Aiwass smiled and turned back, "Is there ever an end to conversation?

"Family, life, dreams, what we read, what we do, what we think... Two hearts that are not the same, two souls that have yet to overlap, are like two finely carved gems. When they are placed together against the sunlight and turned ever so slightly, they project a myriad of colors on the wall—that is the spark of differing thoughts. I call this chatting.

"And if by chance, at a certain angle, it casts a dazzlingly beautiful light that is unforgettable for a lifetime—that is the focal point of the soul. I call this love."

"I had thought perhaps you came from the Port District, involved with gangs."

Upon hearing this, Sherlock replied coolly, "Now I'm sure of it—you must be the playboy from a rich family. Smooth-talking, sugar-coated, and persuasive.

"Did you read all those books just to charm girls?"

He had been distracted by the noises outside while reading the ledger before. Of course, he could also hear Aiwass's voice in this silent factory.

——This was indeed a man with insights and refinement. He might not be as young as he appeared, perhaps using magic potions like "Basil" to maintain his youth... Maybe he was indeed middle-aged, as cultured as the priest Julio he was pretending to be.

But listening to Aiwass's sophistry, Sherlock was convinced the man was young.

This sophistry revealed vanity, immaturity, and frivolity, along with a touch of condescension—of course, he had the right to be proud. To have such mature thinking and extensive knowledge at his age, he was far superior to his brainless peers.

The "Fox" was indeed impressive.

But still not as much as Aiwass Moriarty.

Although Sherlock had only met the real Aiwass once, that young man who could not be cured of his fundamental injuries by Illumination Art and was temporarily confined to a wheelchair was genuinely intelligent, polite, and humble.

Sherlock held him in high regard. If he had not been busy advancing, he might have engaged in more exchanges with him.

"Is wisdom that is spoken to others not wisdom at all? Perhaps sharing truth with others is not the truth?"

Aiwass retorted, "I read books in order to speak to others—isn't that also a form of dedication? There will always be people who struggle to read, but they might not be the forsaken of the Great Sage. It's just like the eyes of the blind, the legs of the lame, the ears of the deaf; they lack the organs that allow them to read. Apart from this, they are still mature souls, deserving of chasing after light, pursuing truth."

The black-haired, blue-eyed young monk narrowed his eyes, his mature and handsome face revealing a fox-like smile.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows, remaining silent.

Though the words still seemed sophistical… they weren't bad to listen to.

But Sherlock quickly realized that these were just words Aiwass had switched to in order to please himself.

"Worthy of the 'Fox' indeed."

Sherlock spoke with veiled sarcasm, "I've heard that in the eastern deserts of the Primordial Empire, there's talk of 'fox charms'. It's about persuasive foxes beguiling monarchs."

"Then I think you don't know much. According to the sayings of the Primordial Empire, in terms of the Path of Wisdom, a fox is called 'a thousand years as if communing with the heavens'; in the star-reading techniques of the Path of Adaptation, it represents the ninth star of the tail, predicting plentiful offspring and blessings; in the view of the Path of Authority, it's said 'When the white fox comes, the nation prospers; without it, the people grow arrogant and unrestrained'; and even in the Path of Love, there's a saying, 'If the ruler does not fall for beauty, but diligently governs... only then will the fox appear,'" Sherlock retorted without pause in the same language.

Does that really mean that my arrival indicates that Avalon is at the height of its prosperity?" Aiwass shot back.

...Do you believe what you're saying?

Aiwass's remark left Sherlock momentarily unsure how to respond.

Especially since he knew "Lulu" was Princess Isabel, he dared not say more. Compared to Sherlock, Lulu obviously had a better impression of foxes... If she were to go back and spread words, he would be unfairly accused.

—Indeed, the "fox" had guessed who Lulu was.

That's why he had spoken in that way. And that's why he had made a point of getting closer to "Lulu"...

Sherlock had originally wanted to prevent the naive young princess from being enchanted by the "fox" and had stepped up to intervene. But the fox's learning exceeded his expectations... He had even read the original texts from another continent. That being the case, those secrets he talked about earlier might not all be tales and lies...

Thinking of this, he began to admire the fox somewhat.

Such is the Path of Wisdom. They seek the mysterious and the true, but not to leave legacies or to teach others.

Just studying is enough to bring joy; the pursuit of truth alone is enough to give meaning to life. From this perspective, if the fox is on the Path of Wisdom, he might even be considered his predecessor.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows but his tone softened, "I'm wondering if you might be the third dual path walker?

"Your knowledge and intelligence have surpassed many fools who blindly follow the Path of Wisdom. If not, would you be interested in the path of a mage?

"If you're willing, you can come to me. You know where I am... I can help you embark on the Path of Wisdom."

"Ah, I'll pass."

Aiwass shook his head, "My reading is quite utilitarian. You want me to read simply for the sake of reading, I might not have the patience for that."

"How peculiar. A follower of the Path of Devotion claims to be utilitarian."

"There's no conflict. My purpose is to redeem all beings."

With that, he smiled, "You may not believe it now.

"But I will save Avalon... and indeed this world from peril."

"...No, I believe," Sherlock replied softly after a pause.

For when the "fox" spoke those words, the subtle smile that always seemed somewhat malevolent on his face faded, and instead, he appeared much more serious.

For a moment, Sherlock felt the "fox" was telling the truth.

Perhaps the sly fox usually lies effortlessly, deceiving without a draft... but perhaps, this statement alone was the truth.

Seeing the atmosphere between Aiwass and Sherlock suddenly turn to silence, Lulu, standing by, became somewhat flustered.

As holding Little Aiwass had tired her out, she had laid the child's head on her thigh, letting him lie on the side of the chair, with his head resting on her leg as he slept.

Lulu didn't quite understand what the two were talking about—because she hadn't understood the foreign language amidst Aiwass's words.

But she instinctively felt that they might have been arguing, possibly about something related to her.

Harboring the thought that she might have done something wrong, Lulu's expression grew tense.

And when she was tense, she wanted to stand up and speak—because, according to the etiquette learned by Isabel, as the one being protected, it would seem formal and polite to do so. But as soon as she exerted herself, she nearly dropped the child she had completely forgotten about, directly onto the floor. Thankfully, Sherlock's quick reflexes allowed him to cushion the fall, preventing Little Aiwass's head from hitting the ground.

The three were flustered for a while before they finally managed not to wake Little Aiwass.

"...Please take care of the child," Aiwass said with a hint of helplessness in his voice. "Shall I help?"

Sherlock sighed without a word.

Lulu, on the other hand, had already forgotten what she was about to say just moments before.

With some embarrassment, she twisted a lock of hair around her temple and whispered softly, "I'm trying to remember what I was going to say..."

But just then, her expression suddenly changed.

"...Ugh!"

Lulu felt a turmoil in her belly, followed by a searing pain—as if the agony of her menstrual period were magnified three or four times. She turned pale instantly, her legs gave way, and her body shook violently.

She staggered forward a few steps.

Just as Aiwass caught hold of her, Lulu bent over and vomited a mouthful of foul blood, followed by severe coughing.

In the dark red blood, there were clots as black as congealed ink.