NABC Chapter 135 Full Moon
Chapter 135 Full Moon
Chapter 135 Full Moon
"You should tell me in advance how much money you're planning to borrow. I'm not as wealthy as you think."
"Also, I want to charge five percent interest."
Klein: (_)
I suspect you're trying to subtly avoid lending me money.
He paused, then tried to negotiate: "With this kind of interest rate, why wouldn't I just take out a loan from a bank?"
Cyril crossed his arms and said, "There's not enough time, and besides, you're just an ordinary detective. This identity might not be enough to get you a lot of money from the bank."
After a moment of silence, Klein gritted his teeth and nodded: "No problem, I'll borrow 1500 pounds."
"By the way, have you ever considered investing?"
"I have a great investment project that's sure to make money. If you're willing to waive the loan interest, I'll bring you in... Um, I'll introduce you to that inventor."
(0_○；)
"You're like an unlicensed pharmacist recommending physical therapy products to an elderly person," Sirien quipped.
Klein: ...
"I'm serious. This investment lab has already yielded results, but the subsequent launch and promotion still lack funding and connections."
"The product is a convenient means of transportation called a bicycle, and the target users are people from the lower and middle classes. If you are interested, I can take you to the laboratory for a visit tomorrow."
...This really is an investment that can make money.
He muttered to himself, then thought for a moment before saying, "Hmm... okay, tomorrow morning then. Can I bring someone with me?"
"Can."
Klein found it a bit strange, but didn't ask any further questions. It was perfectly reasonable to bring a lawyer he trusted when it came to signing a contract.
He didn't think a time traveler would refuse an investment in bicycles; it was definitely a profitable venture.
Noticing Klein's confusion, Sirion chuckled and explained:
"For a product to succeed, it needs not only research and development funding, but also a suitable factory, early publicity and promotion, and a network of connections that can ensure that the profits are not divided up by others."
"I happen to know someone like that, but of course, it requires giving up some benefits, not in terms of money, but in terms of reputation."
Klein frowned slightly, then nodded: "You'll have to discuss that with the inventor yourselves."
"Of course," Sirion nodded with a smile.
For the next few days, he stayed at the Clover Club, where people came and went, but none of them chose to have their fortunes told by him.
"This is truly...an unexpected development."
"Am I supposed to be like them, relying on flamboyant outfits to attract customers?"
He glanced at the extravagantly dressed fortune tellers meditating alone or quietly reading in the lounge, then looked away and shook his head silently.
"Forget it, I can't do it. I'm just a fortune teller, not someone who works at a nightclub."
"It's a pity there's no refund; coming here was a terrible decision."
As they whispered, Melina, dressed in a classic robe and with her long, loose, curly hair flowing freely, sat down opposite him.
Cyril glanced at her, then looked away without saying a word; he had a feeling that something was off about this woman.
"I have heard the voice of fate; perhaps you need some help."
"No, you must have misheard me. I don't need help," Sirion shook his head, politely declining her offer.
Melina seemed lost in her own world, oblivious to his attitude, and continued speaking to herself:
"The moon will be exceptionally bright tonight; if you want to see your destiny clearly, this is a good opportunity."
As she spoke, she took out a black record from the inside of her classical robe and placed it on the coffee table in front of Sirion.
"This is a piece I composed when inspiration struck by chance, and I call it 'Symphony of Fate'."
"Calm down and listen to it, and you will be able to feel the rhythm of destiny, and you will no longer be confused."
"Its price is 13 gold pounds."
(0_○；)
Sirion's expression changed from wary to bewildered. He had thought she wanted to show off or preach to him, but it turned out she was there to sell him products.
After a two-second silence, he stared into the other person's calm, unwavering dark brown eyes and tentatively asked:
"Are your eyes alright?"
Melina smiled silently, a slight curve to her lips.
"It's good, much better than before."
"My world has lost its color, but because of this, I can feel more and hear the voice of fate more clearly."
She paused, then pushed the black record forward again:
"I think you'll need it; it's a wake-up call from fate."
After a two-second silence, Cyril reluctantly pulled out 13 gold pounds and bought the black record.
Although he felt cheated, he was indeed inspired when he saw the black record and wanted to possess it.
After promoting her record, Melina got up without hesitation and walked to the next person in the lounge, repeating the same process.
Having witnessed all of this, Sirion was somewhat bewildered. For a fleeting moment, he had suspected the other party was a follower of an evil god, but now...
He felt that the other person was more like a pyramid scheme member trying to scam money.
However... being able to hear the voice of fate doesn't seem like something an extraordinary person with the "fate" pathway would do. "Listeners" can hear some strange sounds, but those have nothing to do with fate.
This performance...is unlike any of the twenty-two extraordinary paths, is it what I'm thinking?
He then subtly observed Melina as she promoted her records to the club members for a while, but found nothing particularly noteworthy.
After having dinner, he left the club and took a carriage back to the south side of the bridge.
Nighttime, at Irving's home.
Irving gazed out the glass window at the thick clouds and said in a deep voice:
"If I lose control in a moment, you can shoot."
He paused, then said, "Well... let's try to save him first. If we really can't save him, then you can shoot."
Cyril nodded, then comforted her, "You're only Sequence 8. Normally you can advance all the way to Sequence 7, after which Full Moon Language will reach a limit."
"I know." Irving nodded with a wry smile.
"But I really don't have much confidence. After experiencing several full moons before, I already know why my father and grandfather chose to be ordinary people."
"Sometimes, I regret my impulsiveness back then."
As we talked, a sliver of crimson moonlight pierced through the thick clouds in the sky outside the window, bathing the earth in its glow.
Cyril frowned slightly, sensing the vibrant life force within the crimson moonlight, as well as his own ever-growing spirituality and inspiration.
This isn't a full moon, it's a blood moon!
How could a full moon suddenly turn into a blood moon?
As he murmured, Irving collapsed to the ground in agony, his gaping mouth emitting broken, incoherent sobs.
His flesh swelled up with lumps of varying sizes, then tore and burst open, and within seconds, his entire body was a bloody mess.
Without further hesitation, Sirion sat down on the sofa and closed his eyes to meditate. Behind him, pairs of transparent, dragonfly-wing-like membranes appeared, making him feel ethereal and transported him to another dimension beyond reality.
Above all things, in a dimension overlooking everything, Cyril's ethereal and blurry transparent figure quietly appeared.
Then, he heard intermittent, labored prayers echoing in his ears:
"From the unknowable sublimity... a gateway to dimensions... the embodiment of art and fantasy..."
He looked down in the direction the sound came from and saw Irving, who was enduring pain and praying with difficulty.
He reached out and pulled at the empty space in front of him, and a dark curtain appeared out of thin air, then fell, covering the room where Owen was like an unstoppable night.
The next second, Owen, who was still immersed in extreme pain, suddenly felt his body lighten, the terrifying voice in his ears disappeared, and the suffocating feeling, as if he was about to lose control, also disappeared. He was alive again.
He took a couple of deep breaths of the cold, damp air, looked around, and after confirming that he was back in that dark, cramped place, he simply closed his eyes and began to pray.
For a believer who frequents church, it's simple: just replace the description of the "god of steam and machinery" with "from the unknowable sublime."
In the unseen darkness, a black record slowly began to spin, emitting a faint, strangely rhythmic sound.
It's like hearing a beautiful piano piece through several thick walls, but for some reason, it makes you want to calm down and hear it more clearly.