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Read Lord of the Mysteries Chapter 224 – Metaphysics-styled Detective

Lord of the Mysteries is a web novel completed by 爱潜水的乌贼, Cuttlefish That Loves Diving.
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Chapter 224: Metaphysics-styled DetectiveTranslator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas StudiosThe dim room was covered in a thin veil of crimson moonlight, and everything was indistinct.

The three men in the black coats were sleeping in different spots. And on the sofa, Klein’s eyes half-blended into the darkness by closing them, it was as if he had entered a deep slumber.

His dream was a gray, distorted world, occasionally flas.h.i.+ng with brilliance.

Finally, the brilliance settled to form a scene.

It was a gloomy corner, the ground sloshed with sewage. A man with short brown hair, a white s.h.i.+rt, and a brown vest was leaning against the wall, surrounded by a dense mischief of gray rats.

Half of the man’s lips had been bitten off, revealing his yellowish teeth and rotten gums. His nose was only stained with blood, mixed with some short hairs, and the flesh on his face had disappeared, piece by piece, revealing white bone. White, fat maggots were crawling around everywhere, constantly squirming, and his throat seemed to have been the victim of some wild beast; at least half of it was missing.

Klein could just barely make out that this was Zreal Viktor Lee. It was nearly impossible to relate him to the mature and handsome man in the black-and-white photograph he had taken with Ian.

Zreal is already dead. In a few days, he would probably be gnawed to the point where he would only be bone. He might not even have a complete skeleton left…Klein left the dream and recalled what he had just seen.

His past experiences had allowed him to witness similar corpses more calmly.

Looking out of the window at the crimson moon, Klein thought for more than ten seconds and decided to try communicating with the soul of the man in black next to the sofa.

During the last few days of preparations, he had concocted a bottle of Amantha extract and Eye of the Spirit medication. As for Serenity Agent, Klein had no need for it. He was personally capable of invading the dreams of others and forcefully communicating with their souls while maintaining calm and rationale.

After setting up a simple altar and letting the quiet and tranquil fragrance waft out to create a half-dreaming state, Klein prayed to himself, “The Fool that doesn’t belong to this era.”

Following that, he entered the world above the gray fog and used more than two-thirds of his spirituality to give a response.

When I advance to Sequence 7, such prayers should also allow me to use a little of the power of the mysterious s.p.a.ce above the gray fog, just like my summoning and bestowment rituals… Looking around, Klein made a rough judgment and quickly returned to the real world.

He pa.s.sed through what seemed like a starry sky and a chaotic storm of thoughts, entering the mental plane of the target. There, he saw the man’s illusory figure floating in midair.

“Who sent you to Zreal’s home?” Klein looked at him and asked in a deep voice.

The man replied in a daze, his illusory eyes vacant, “Meursault. Meursault sent me to wait for the boy named Ian.”

The light in his spiritual world changed, revealing a lean, capable-looking, dark-skinned man. He was none other than the leader of the group who was chasing Ian on the steam train.

As expected, it’s him… Klein, who had exhausted so much of his spirituality in responding to the prayer, was beginning to feel exhausted. He hurriedly asked, “Who ordered Meursault?”

“No idea… He’s an ‘executioner’ of our Zmanger gang. No one can order him other than the boss,” the man said, blankly.

Zmanger… The word “warrior” in the language of the highlanders… Klein, a pseudo-historian but a true mysticism scholar, suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head, and his body involuntarily flew out of the storm of thoughts.

Not long afterwards, he exited the mediums.h.i.+p and felt his head throbbing.

He was in no hurry to leave. He methodically packed up the materials and the short yellowish-brown hair before opening the oriel window to let in the cold night wind to disperse the smell of the Amantha extract and Eye of the Spirit medication.

While this happened, Klein returned to the balcony, locked the door from the inside, and wiped off all the places he had touched.

When Zreal’s bedroom returned to its original state, he then held his hand to his chest and bowed towards the three men who were still sleeping soundly.

Straightening his back, Klein put on his gloves and leaped, nimbly flipping out of the oriel window. He stood firmly, tiptoeing in the abnormally tight s.p.a.ce.

He raised the open window’s vertical latch and used a tarot card to hold its bottom. With his Clown abilities, he took in the details and adjusted the balance.

After a few seconds, Klein slowly pulled back the tarot card, and the vertical latch suddenly stopped in place and didn’t fall further.


First, he closed the unlatched half of the window, then he jumped over to the window with a latch. His right hand jerked inward, closing the other half of the window.

The speed of the action was so quick that the latch didn’t fall down until there was a vibration, accurately inserting itself into the matching hole.

Clang! A sound that was difficult to eliminate rang out, like a strong wind slamming onto the surface of the gla.s.s.

Klein knew that the three men in the bedroom were about to awaken. Without further ado, he jumped onto the street.

For the current him, the height from the second floor wouldn’t pose any danger. It was just that he couldn’t maintain his silence when he landed, so he didn’t make any obvious noises.

Klein quickly left the vicinity, as well as Rose Street, but he didn’t directly take a rental carriage back to Cherwood Borough’s Minsk Street.

He turned a few corners and headed to the neighboring East Borough.

It was a cold night, and the wind sent a biting chill right into his bones. Klein s.h.i.+vered and decided that he would need an additional sweater for his future missions. He decided to buy charcoal on one of the following days and let the fireplace carry out its role.

After an unknown period of time, he entered Backlund’s East Borough despite not having a map. He had completely relied on instinct.

There were only a few gas lamps to be seen in the distance, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the dark clouds hadn’t covered the crimson moon, Klein believed that many parts of the road would be pitch black.

As he was walking, he suddenly saw pairs of eyes appear in the deep darkness in front of him. They came stooping from a distance.

They sauntered over from a vague distance away, in silence.

Living corpses? Klein came to a sudden halt. He reached out for his Requiem Charm and tarot cards, and he quickly activated his Spirit Vision.

He saw the unhealthy and weak colored auras and saw the faces of the numerous figures.

These were all living people, normal living people with numbed expressions, vacant eyes, and weak movements. There were both men and women.

It’s almost midnight; why are they still walking on the streets… Confused, Klein warily leaned to one side, pa.s.sing the group on the sidewalk, but soon, he came across a second wave, a third wave; all of them had the same pain amidst numbness.

He frowned slightly, and just as he was about to move forward to inquire, he suddenly heard a shout ahead.

“Get up! All of you get up!

“You sons of b.i.t.c.hes!

“The streets and parks aren’t for people like you to sleep in!”

… Klein was startled, then the corresponding term “Poor Law” popped up in his mind, and he understood what was going on.

He had experienced the same thing himself.

Phew… Klein exhaled, picked up the pace, and headed for his one-bedroom house on Black Palm Street in the East Borough.

There, he slept for two hours. After recovering some of his spirituality, he went out again and broke a withered branch to serve as a “dowsing rod.”

“The location of Zreal’s corpse.

“The location of Zreal’s corpse.”

After repeated divinations, Klein walked for a long time with the help of the short yellowish-brown hair until he arrived at a corner of East Borough where there was a sewer entrance.

Twelve years ago, after the great plague, the Loen Kingdom gradually built up an advanced sewer system in the capital and, in one fell swoop, surpa.s.sed “Roselle’s Heritage” of the Intis Republic.

Moving the manhole cover out the way, Klein held his breath and climbed down the vertical metal stairs.

Since his clothes weren’t specially made, he was unable to bring too many items due of the lack of pockets. He hadn’t brought Quelaag’s Oil which he had learned about from Frye. Klein felt especially regretful for not having brought the refres.h.i.+ng and odor-dispelling Quelaag’s Oil.

Ten seconds later, Klein’s feet touched the sticky ground.

The feeling of filth caused fine gooseb.u.mps to pop up over his arms and body. However, he could only endure it and continue walking forward, venturing deeper into the empty and quiet sewer.

There was a fork in the road ahead, one which was relatively hidden. A thick pungent smell wafted over from there.

Klein turned around and walked to the end where he saw a dense number of spirituality light dots and aura colors.

Without needing to use a candle, he activated his Spirit Vision and directly saw that in the dark corner, there was a rotten corpse that had been bitten to pieces.

This was the exact same scene he had seen in the dream divination.


The densely packed gray rats scampered in every direction, but there were also some who stayed where they were, unwilling to leave and part with their food.

After confirming that it was Zreal, Klein hesitated for a moment before quickly setting up a mediums.h.i.+p ritual.

Hmm… If there’s nothing wrong with Ian’s description, and Zreal died only a few days ago, I should be able to get some rough information by channeling his spirit…he thought confidently.


As the wind swirled and the wall of spirituality was set up, all the rats fled, and Klein proceeded with his ritual as he had done before.

“The cause of Zreal’s death.

“The cause of Zreal’s death.”

As he recited the words, Klein’s eyes turned black. His pupils and the whites of his eyes disappeared. He quickly used Cogitation to enter a dream.

However, nothing appeared in that misty, illusory world.

Klein opened his eyes, frowning slightly as he made his judgment.

The channeling failed…

Someone has dealt with Zreal’s spirit…

A Beyonder was involved in this.

The fact that someone was able to disguise as Zreal, making the other detectives unable to see through him, also proves this point.

After some deliberation, Klein came to a decision; it was to end this matter here and not get involved any further. Regardless, he had fulfilled the requirements of the job that he was entrusted with.

“I’ll get Ian to call the police,” he muttered as he put away the materials and removed the wall of spirituality.


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Published inLord of the Mysteries