Chapter 130: First Mission

Chapter 130: First Mission

Mo Fei’s body stirred in the physical world as he slowly opened his eyes to examine the surroundings.

The blue flames that had occurred a while ago weren’t there. His gaze lay on the bed, then locked on the curtains, which blew as the wind passed, whistling through his ears.

Everything seemed normal until he looked down; a sticky substance was glued to his hand, and the iron-trenched scent of blood, pulled by the air, reached his nose. He stared down at the ground where his blood had pooled up... he did die, so how was he alive, and how was he still in the world seven?

’Could it be that the spirit world protected me by throwing me in my astral body before I could die to heal my physical form?’ He pondered and stood up with a groan. "Argh, my head hurts so bad... uh, the headache."

He slowly walked toward the bathroom and opened the door to examine his head.

Mo Fei finally looked in and saw a hole in both of his temples, the grotesque fluid dripping down from his forehead with a splash as the wound began to twitch and heal slowly.

He examined the wound again with more seriousness but found nothing that could tell what happened before; the only explanation he had was that the spirit world protected him.

Heaving a sigh of relief, he took a few steps back and ran a hand through his hair, which had absorbed his blood, making the hair wet and sticky. He hiccupped and moved toward the washbasin, managing to control himself before he could throw up from the scent.

It’s terrible, urgh, my head... heal faster.

He grabbed a long towel and wrapped it around his temples. Afterward, he pulled a stick that had a cloth attached to it at the bottom.

As he came out and looked at the blood again, which made his stomach groan. Yet, he moved to wipe the blood on the floor, feeling an extreme vibe of a criminal trying to remove the traces of his crimes.

Within a few minutes, he cleaned the surface and covered his nose before throwing the cloth and sticking it outside through the window where a dustbin was.

Mo Fei collapsed onto his second-hand wooden chair, carefully avoiding putting pressure on the wet towel wrapped around his skull like a lopsided turban.

​He stared blankly at the window, listening to the muffled whistle of the Ciradyl harbor wind. ​He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his total remaining net worth: one pound, three shillings, a bent brass button, and a half-eaten piece of dried bread that had collected a worrying amount of pocket.

’How did this come in my pocket...?’ He thought with a sigh as he looked at the dried bread, which he may have put there while cutting the loaf bread. Then Mo Fei stared at the coins and then at the wall.

​Then, the sudden realization struck his brain so hard he almost dislodged his healing skull wounds.

​Wait.

​I told Mr. Courage—that he would meet ’someone’ at the entrance of Ciradyl.

​Mo Fei’s pupils dilated as his thoughts caught up.

Who is ’someone’?! Now that I think carefully about how I am going to go as Mo Fei, who is just an Ordinal Ten, he’d suspect it. ​I only accidentally created the secret organization! I don’t have high-ranking believers lurking in the shadows. Why the hell did I speak of protection...?​

Mo Fei buried his face in his hands, letting out a silent groan of annoyance into his palms. ​

In reality, Mr. Mysteries had, who knows how many days, to figure out what to do next.

​’Option A: Hire a random homeless person at the docks, pay him two coppers, give him a dark cloak, and ask him to stand under a streetlight looking brooding...

Wait, no, that’s ridiculous. If Silas asks him a single Beyonder question, the guy will probably just ask him for a bottle of cheap rye wine. That won’t work...

Option B: Hold up...why am I fearing it? I can just use Murphy Law.

But... What if Silas gets attacked by a rival Ascended faction on the dock since he had stolen something which might have put a heavy amount of bounty on him? Murphy can most likely save him, and in that persona I get really good at using my Authority as a Mid-ordinal.

Although I have one more option...

​Option C: Pray that Mr. Courage’s ship sinks before it reaches Ciradyl.

...

...

...

No! What the f**k, of course no, that’s unethical. Besides, knowing his luck, he’d survive on a raft made of starlight and conviction.’​

He took a deep breath, forcing his heart rate to settle. ’Calm down. I have at least a few days, right? Besides that, Murphy can manage it. I can use these days to earn enough money to buy a ticket to Bloodborne Sea and draft a plan so I don’t get exposed as a fraud by my own devout followers, which is the least concerning thing. Since I’m already facing a fractured spirit world and corruption.’

With another sigh, he finally moved and wore his coat; just then he heard a knock coming from the entrance.

’Please kill me already...’

He put on his fedora and grabbed the handle to open the door, then focused outside.

Lionel Rofocale.

Mo Fei stared through the doorway for several seconds.

The young man’s expression carried the same irritatingly relaxed smile as before, his dark coat hanging loosely over his shoulders while one hand rested inside his pocket. "Good morning, Sherlock."

Mo Fei’s eyelids twitched; for some reason this gentleman’s presence had always annoyed him. ’Why is this guy here?’

Although he still opened the door and spoke. "Yes, Mr. Roffocale. What do you need?"

"Just Lionel is fine, since now we are... pretty close."

’Does he know what the f**k he is talking about?’ Mo Fei coughed and cleared his throat and spoke. "I suppose so. Why are you here?"

"Can we talk for a bit?"

"No." With that, Mo Fei shut the door close again and locked it with the handle, staring at it with an irritated expression crossed over his face.

THUD!

Lionel blinked in confusion and darted his eyes around as his voice gradually lowered. "About Mi...ss...ion... No?"

After three seconds later.

Knock. Knock.

Mo Fei stared at the door but didn’t open it and pulled his hand over his temples, as if he was he were already feeling a headache from his presence.

Just then. Lionel called out again. "Sherlock..?"

"Go away!" Mo Fei called out from behind the door with a groan.

"I brought you a mission about your money..."

Mo Fei pulled the door open immediately as he heard the term "money," which he needed currently the most. Ahead of him, Lionel let out a mocking chuckle. Slowly Mo Fei stepped back and gestured. "Come in."

Lionel entered the cramped room quickly and glanced around before sitting on a chair. His eyes stared down as he adjusted his coat and moved his tie slightly sideways. His eyes observed the whole room before landing on Mo Fei’s towel-covered head. "What kind of circumstances brought you to that?"

"I have a condition, actually."

"What condition?"

"..."

"??"

Mo Fei sat back on his bed and sighed. "You know that poverty, even though it’s not a medical one, but it is actually pretty fatal if you ask me."

Lionel dropped a thin brown folder onto the table as he wheezed out his words.

"Your first assignment, then, in the next two days, you’ll have to do support in a big mission revolving around a mysterious corrupted artifact."

Mo Fei looked at it and frowned. There was a black feather stamped onto the front of the folder, surrounded by a silver circle as he reached out and opened the folder.

Inside a single piece of letter said: Case No. 417.

Location: Aloman Distric, Eastern Ciradyl.

Classification: Low-level spiritual anomaly.

Status: Unresolved.

Mo Fei read the first few lines as his expression changed slightly. "A bakery?"

Lionel gave him a small nod and leaned back before letting out a long yawn and speaking. "Three nights ago, the owner reported that every clock inside the building stopped at exactly midnight."

Mo Fei flipped the page. "That’s it?"

"No." Lionel waved his hand before continuing. "Every morning, the clocks start working again."

Mo Fei raised an eyebrow at his words, he couldn’t understand what was wrong with it if it didn’t harm anyone. "And?"

"The current owner claims that during those three minutes after midnight, someone knocks on the back door."

Mo Fei read the letter, which contained the same information that Lionel told.

"Three knocks." Lionel raised three fingers before lowering his hand and shrugged.

Mo Fei looked back at the report and asked. "And if they open the door?"

"Sorry but the person who opened the door is not in one piece to tell that, because yesterday, the previous owner heard his own voice from the other side, and he disappeared there."

Mo Fei nodded and stood up. "I’ll leave then."

"No need to hurry, it’s only 6 PM, it occurs at midnight." With that, Lionel stood and walked toward the door. "Be careful though, even a low-ranked mission can be dangerous. Take this mission as a test; I’ll be waiting outside, so take your time." After a wave of his hand, Lionel walked out of the room while laughing to himself, a joke that he understood now.

Mo Fei closed the door behind him and pulled his collar where the mark of that demonic cult remained. "Tch, I have so many things to manage."