WCBD CH137

Chapter 137: Several Questions

Overnight, Ambrose looked much more haggard compared to his appearance when they had bumped into him at dinner yesterday.

He was practically boiling with rage: “What are you saying, sailor? You refuse to set sail? The storm has clearly passed, so why won’t you set sail?”

“Use my life to make money for you, greedy merchant!” the sailor rebuked just as loudly.

They were conversing in the language of Middleton, so Siles only understood what was happening through Johnny’s translation and explanation. He looked over thoughtfully.

Quite a few people were gathered around, watching the argument. However, judging from where they stood and their gazes, they were clearly on the sailor’s side.

The storm had passed, and Ambrose wanted the fleet to depart as soon as possible, but the sailors were unwilling. Siles did not see the captain, meaning this sailor’s words likely represented the entire crew’s consensus.

Ambrose seemed completely unable to comprehend this. After all, the storm had entirely passed, and the weather had completely cleared up—it was a suitable time to set sail. Yet, the crew refused to leave Kingsley.

While translating for Siles, Johnny also revealed a hint of confusion. Clearly, just like Ambrose, he couldn’t understand why the crew was being so stubborn, even believing that setting sail right now would cost them their lives.

Seeing that Siles was equally puzzled, he took the initiative to ask a Kingsley local watching the commotion nearby. He could speak the language of Middleton and also clarified that he was someone who had left Middleton in his youth.

The man hesitated for a moment before explaining everything in one brief sentence. Johnny was stunned upon hearing it, but he subsequently relayed the meaning to Siles.

“He said,” Johnny translated, “that on the second day after a storm, if people set sail, they will inevitably be swallowed by the ocean.”

After translating, Johnny muttered something to himself, as if wondering why such a thing would happen. Siles, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes, as if coming to a realization.

If the sacrifices in the deep sea were always accompanied by storms, then the “shadow” must be wandering above the sea before and after the storm. Setting sail at such a time might just result in running into the shadow cast upon the sea’s surface.

Such a thing was naturally extremely dangerous. The sailors of port cities were always the most attuned to the ocean’s changes; they quickly deduced this pattern and unanimously decided never to set sail on the day following a storm. Furthermore, ports extinguishing their lights when a storm hit was likely due to this exact reason. Perhaps there once was a port that failed to extinguish its lights during a storm, attracting the “shadow” and subsequently being destroyed.

He suddenly recalled that the guide Isaac and the translator Johnny had once told him they traveled to the Duchy of Konst because of a famine in their hometown. But Middleton was bordered by the sea; if they fished, there shouldn’t have been a famine. Now, Siles realized that if storms frequently appeared on the ocean and the “shadow” lingered, and the people of Middleton lacked the habit of cultivating crops, then a severe famine could indeed occur.

This speculation sent a chill through Siles’s heart. He realized that the deities of this world brought unavoidable disasters upon ordinary people. At the same time, he also realized that if he hadn’t chosen to keep his lights off out of caution last night, the fate awaiting him might not have been very pleasant either.

That shadow wandering over the deep sea also loomed over the heads of the people whose lives were so closely tied to the ocean.

Siles had once heard Ambrose mention a sudden decrease in Kingsley’s fishing yield recently; it was likely because the frequent ocean storms during this period had deterred Kingsley’s fishermen from setting sail.

However, the merchant Ambrose seemingly couldn’t grasp this. After his fruitless communication with the sailor, he left the port in a huff. He looked furious, likely wanting to do something else to make up for his daily financial losses. Siles suspected he might hire fishermen willing to risk heading out to sea today at a high premium. Though, such a thing wasn’t certain.

In just the blink of an eye, Siles lost sight of Ambrose. The surrounding crowd also slowly dispersed; some of the Kingsley locals wore expressions of unsurprised, crude contempt directed toward where Ambrose had been. It was as if they were mocking an outsider who didn’t understand the ocean’s dangers. Yet, at the same time, they were unwilling to explain things clearly, for that was a secret collectively kept by all of Kingsley, and indeed all of Middleton.

To this, Siles couldn’t help but marvel slightly. Every single Middleton native was a master at keeping secrets.

Soon, the crowd dispersed, and Siles followed Johnny to buy boat tickets. This minor conflict didn’t draw much attention, with some people even muttering in regret. Siles suspected they had been hoping to witness a more severe, perhaps even bloody, clash.

They quickly purchased their tickets.

Sure enough, even at the passenger ticket window, the earliest departing vessels were scheduled for tomorrow morning. Absolutely no ships were leaving the port today; the most daring ones only dared to cruise near the harbor, as if just stretching their limbs.

They bought tickets for a ship departing for Bethune at 2 PM tomorrow, set to arrive at 4 PM the day after. They would need to spend a night on board.

The usable funds provided by Professor Bella were extremely abundant, and since their group likely hadn’t ridden such a large ship before and might get seasick, Siles opted for the luxury cabins to make them more comfortable. These were single-occupancy cabins; there were only about thirty in total, and their group took up twenty-six of them.

The female ticket clerk exclaimed something in surprise.

Johnny smoothly explained, “She’s saying that if we had come a bit later to buy tickets, we probably wouldn’t have been able to get them for this ship, as it’s a very popular passenger vessel heading to Bethune.”

While leaving the port, Johnny explained the meaning of the ship’s name to Siles: “‘Distant Sea’. It can be interpreted that way. People always believe that deities in the distant depths of the ocean will protect us.”

Siles was slightly taken aback. He couldn’t help but think: But, in those distant depths of the ocean… There is merely a group of mad Old God followers, and a deity most likely brimming with malice.

He sighed internally, ultimately keeping the thought to himself.

It was only past nine o’clock when they returned to the inn. They met up with the guide Isaac to confirm tomorrow’s travel itinerary. The rest of the group was still sleeping, so after exchanging information, they returned to their respective rooms.

Siles once again stood by the window, gazing at the ocean outside.

Even though the storm had subsided, and the ocean beneath the clear sky looked far more beautiful than yesterday, the scene he had witnessed was already deeply branded into his heart.

He figured that since today was universally acknowledged by the sailors as a “dangerous time,” he probably shouldn’t communicate with the dice right now. Tomorrow morning would be a better opportunity; everyone else likely wouldn’t be going out then either, given that this was far more unfamiliar territory.

Furthermore, whether to enter the deep-sea dreams tonight…

Siles hesitated on this question but ultimately decided to err on the side of caution and not take risks right now. Fortunately, when parting with Chendo, taking various reasons into account, he hadn’t promised beforehand to contact Chendo through the deep-sea dreams on the exact day he arrived in Kingsley. Otherwise, Chendo would probably be so worried right now that he’d rush straight over.

Tomorrow would be a better time to handle these matters.

Having made these decisions, Siles breathed a sigh of relief. Pondering what he needed to do today, he suddenly realized that this seemed to be a rare day where he had absolutely nothing to do. This actually made him a little unaccustomed to the idleness. He could only read books and write his novel to pass the time.

Before departing, he had already mailed the serialized installments of Miss Garland’s Dream Adventure for the spring break period to the newspaper. However, once spring break ended, he would still need to rush out more drafts. Writing a little bit now was a solid choice.

At the time, he also had to ponder a question: since Nona had become Garland, would the novel’s progress affect Garland’s mental state in reality? For this reason, he had carefully deliberated over the content of the earlier serialized sections to avoid impacting Garland’s self-awareness; he had also explicitly instructed the Church of the Past to keep those stories out of Garland’s sight.

But not long ago, he had met Garland in a dream and realized she had already broken free from the novel’s restraints on her. Initially, Garland had merely considered herself the protagonist of the novel, but later on, she realized she was living in a real world, entirely distinct from the Garland in the fictional story.

Thinking of this, Siles couldn’t help but realize this could be considered a sort of… transition between illusion and reality? Perhaps he could ask the puppets on the farm tomorrow.

This development helped Siles by allowing him to write his novel without any lingering reservations, though he secretly warned himself not to incorporate the traits of people around him into his stories in the future. When creating the character Garland, he had indeed referenced some of Nona’s behaviors, as she was the only little girl he knew. However, it was perhaps precisely because of this reference that Nona was ultimately able to view herself as Garland.

The outcome might have been positive, but it was equally unexpected. Siles believed it would be better for him to be far more cautious moving forward.

The hours of the day passed by in a blur of reading, writing, eating, and observing the city of Kingsley and its residents outside the window. Truthfully, the foreign scenery did indeed give Siles some inspiration.

Perhaps for his next novel, he could depict a grown man setting out on a journey? An adult’s personality would be somewhat easier to portray, and it would also prevent another accident like Garland’s from happening again.

This flicker of inspiration passed through his mind briefly. After all, the conclusion of Miss Garland’s story was still a long way off.

…However, his first novel had spurred Angus Keys to embark on a journey of revenge, and his second novel had turned Nona into Garland; what kind of consequence would his third novel cause?

As evening approached, Siles checked his pocket watch for the time, then planned to get up and grab dinner. But right at that moment, he accidentally caught sight of something bizarre outside his window.

Looking closely, he realized the source of his peculiarity was the situation over at Kingsley port.

…There was a ship choosing to leave the port at this hour.

Siles was taken aback, thinking that not long ago, he had just heard someone vow that people shouldn’t go out to sea on the day following a storm, as the ship could be devoured by the ocean. But now, someone was risking it?

Shortly after, in the inn’s dining room, he heard the guide Isaac mention more details about this brazen ship.

The captain of the ship was known as “the infamous Garrett Gielgud.” Fatherless, he was raised solely by his mother. He had been a mischievous, troublemaking child, and growing up only made him more obnoxious. He was the kind of person who, at a grand banquet where everyone was cheering joyfully, would suddenly and deliberately overturn a table full of delicacies just for a laugh. Even his mother couldn’t tolerate his disposition and had already cut ties with him.

In the environment of Middleton, Garrett’s personality was even more off-putting, leaving him completely ostracized by others. But he didn’t seem to care; instead, he gradually devoted himself to deep-sea navigation with an eternally active and enthusiastic attitude.

He used some money to buy a small boat and spent nearly all year at sea, except during storms. He would fish, but mostly he just excavated antiques from the deep sea to sell. Sometimes, he really did find some interesting collectibles and sold them for a good price. Slowly, some people stopped caring about his reputation and chose to join his crew, allowing him to upgrade to a larger ship.

Rumor had it his goal was to earn more and more money to afford a ship excellent enough to explore the very depths of the ocean.

Such a spirit of exploration might have earned praise, but Garrett’s unscrupulous, maniacal conduct made him quite detestable. He was a rule-breaker—ignoring not only social norms but also the rules of Middleton itself.

But no matter how you looked at it, setting sail on the second day after a storm was just too reckless.

Isaac spoke with a very subtle emotion, hovering somewhere between “enjoying the show” and “genuine worry”: “It seems a merchant paid a hefty sum to hire him to go fishing.

“No one else was willing to accept the job. So the merchant eventually had to seek out Garrett, because only this unorthodox captain would possibly take the deal.

“However, even Garrett stipulated that they must set out at dusk, as whatever ‘event’ occurs might have passed by then. Some people kindly tried to dissuade Garrett, but he seemed dead set on making that money.

“In short, they decided to set sail just like that. The merchant is on board too, probably to oversee the actual fishing haul. I don’t know how this voyage will end; hopefully they’ll be safe, but…”

Saying this, Isaac shrugged. He didn’t look like he fully believed their risky venture would turn out completely fine. He had likely gleaned more insider details from the Kingsley locals.

However, the people from the Duchy of Konst, who were skeptical of this rumor, reserved their judgment. They didn’t see any issue with setting sail after a storm; moreover, an entire day had already passed. Even if there was a problem, it surely wouldn’t last this long.

Of course, whether the storm was still persisting out on the open ocean was another matter entirely. Still, the mist continued to blanket the vast majority of the sea; the navigable area for human ships was only so large.

The crew clearly understood the conditions of this region. If they really encountered trouble, they could turn back as quickly as possible—that was what several people present thought.

Regardless, it seemed many were anticipating the outcome of Garrett’s voyage, whether in a positive or morbidly curious sense.

Siles didn’t participate much in their discussion. He only felt a deeper sense of anxiety.

Rumor had it that Garrett Gielgud was a reckless man with an extremely crazed and restless temperament. With someone like that paired with the merchant Ambrose, it was highly dubious just how daring their actions might become.

Ambrose had once hinted that if he encountered any bizarre oceanic phenomena, he would definitely go over to take a look. And Garrett… seemed to share that exact disposition.

Siles was quite curious about what those two would encounter at sea and what they would do. Naturally, he hoped they would ultimately return safe and sound; life, after all, was precious.

This little anecdote made their dinner quite lively. Everyone was discussing it, and the topic imperceptibly shifted toward ocean-related themes. The few who had participated in that fireside chat shared the stories they had heard back then, analyzing their plausibility with an air of seriousness. Lorenzo, upon hearing these tales, eagerly began spinning his own stories, injecting numerous bizarre elements into them.

It seemed that after surviving last night’s storm and catching up on sleep that morning, everyone’s spirits had fully recovered, and their interest in this brand-new land and the secretive ocean had been piqued.

The rest of the Kingsley locals in the dining room were also drawn to their lively atmosphere, but due to the language barrier, the curious onlookers could only chat with Isaac and Johnny. Sometimes Johnny would translate interesting tidbits back and forth, and other times he simply listened quietly.

They joked and laughed in the dining room until nearly nine o’clock before feeling tired and parting ways for the night.

Siles also felt relaxed thanks to this cheerful and pleasant atmosphere. He returned to his room, took a bath, and once again stood gazing out at the sea from his window—he still hadn’t turned on the lights.

He probably wouldn’t be able to shake off this psychological trauma for a while, just like how the Greyson incident had left him traumatized by meat for a long time.

He could almost faintly spot a ship’s light igniting in the deep sea, but it felt like a mere hallucination. A moment later, he flicked open his pocket watch, glanced at the time under the faint moonlight, and upon seeing it was almost ten, decided to go to bed early.

Early the next morning, he woke up right at six o’clock, went to the dining room alone for breakfast, and returned to his room. Unsurprisingly, none of his companions had woken up yet, nor did they likely plan to head out during the morning.

Siles knew they had probably stayed up quite late playing yesterday; the more active ones had most likely formed another card game, hopelessly losing themselves in the joy of playing. This provided Siles with a quiet opportunity to communicate with the dice.

He retrieved a piccolo from his suitcase—the instrument’s size made it convenient to carry, taking up barely any space in his luggage. Afterward, he rolled a check. Quickly, the dice’s trademark rambling tone appeared by his ear, though this time, the dice also sounded somewhat surprised.

The piccolo first tootled out a disjointed melody before saying: “Keeper of Secrets! We meet again. Oh, an unfamiliar land, and a Keeper of Secrets seeking out its mysteries—it’s marvelous just thinking about it. Anyway… wait!

“Wait a second, wait a second, I feel a certain aura… It’s that damned bastard! Damn it! Damn it! He hasn’t been gone long; this is terrible. Keeper of Secrets, I never imagined you’d be this close to Him!

“This is way too dangerous. The situation is different from before. He has no patience right now… no, I should say, He never had any patience to begin with, but recently He’s been losing it faster and faster. Too much time has passed…”

As the piccolo spoke, even though it sounded like it was muttering to itself, it faintly leaked some information to Siles.

Siles narrowed his eyes.

So, the dice could sense the presence of the “shadow.” And the dice’s words seemed to hint that as time flowed on, the “shadow” was losing its patience.

…What was He losing patience over? If “patience” existed initially, then He must have wanted to accomplish something, which was why He maintained it. And now, because the timeline dragged on longer and longer, His patience had worn thin.

If He completely lost His patience, what would the situation turn into? Would He go mad? Or were there other possibilities?

Siles made numerous associative leaps because of this snippet of dialogue from the dice.

However, the piccolo coughed instead, adding, “Keeper of Secrets, you didn’t hear anything just now.”

Siles froze.

The piccolo tried to cover it up: “Anyway, just pretend I didn’t say anything. Don’t ask me about this matter, either. It’s not suitable for you to know right now.”

“…I understand,” Siles responded rationally.

In reality, the dice had already faintly dropped some hints, but it couldn’t state them explicitly to Siles. And this fact in itself carried a certain specific implication.

He changed the subject: “However, I’ll be taking a ship to Bethune in Middleton later. Will there be any problems if I head out to sea?”

“There won’t be any problems, don’t worry, Keeper of Secrets,” the piccolo said, its tone as beautiful as ever, but carrying the riddle-like cadence typical of the dice. “The ocean isn’t that dangerous, nor is it that weak.”

Dangerous and weak. These were two highly incongruous words, yet they were used simultaneously to describe the ocean.

Siles felt the nuance in this phrasing. He thought that dangerous might refer to the ocean’s current state, but weak? Why use weak to describe the sea? It sounded more like describing a person…

The ocean… Amois?

If this meant Amois was not weak, then the symbolic meaning behind it was…

Siles paused slightly.

The piccolo urged him to snap out of it: “Time is tight, Keeper of Secrets! Hurry up and tell me, what other questions do you have?”

Siles snapped back and asked bluntly: “Is the ‘shadow’ an unknown deity?”

This question actually concealed a double meaning. The first was whether the shadow was a deity, and the second was whether this shadow deity was completely unknown. The first point would confirm the essence of the “shadow,” while the second point would confirm that Antinam was not the “shadow.”

And the piccolo replied almost without hesitation: “Yes, the ‘shadow’ is an unknown deity.” It added, “At least, the vast majority of humanity does not know of His existence.”

In other words, the deities and a small fraction of humanity knew of His existence.

The dice’s answer allowed Siles to suddenly breathe a sigh of relief. The dice maintained its silence, clearly fully aware of what Siles was actually asking.

After a moment, the piccolo spoke in an unprecedented, gentle tone that didn’t quite suit its current vessel: “Don’t fret so much, Keeper of Secrets. You can trust me, as well as Antinam’s stance. That bastard is our enemy.”

Siles instinctively wanted to ask without thinking: what was this “enmity”? But he soon realized that there was no way he could get that answer from the dice right now.

And another question was, why would the “shadow” be Antinam’s enemy? Didn’t Antinam only come into being during the Age of Mist?

Or, was it because Antinam Himself symbolized the past and history of the Fisher World, and therefore possessed a deep-seated hatred for the “shadow” that caused such massive disasters?

This seemed highly likely, but Siles still couldn’t reach a definitive conclusion. From another perspective, he probably shouldn’t blindly trust the dice’s words; it would be best to find relevant objective evidence from other data and archives.

He pondered for a moment and finally asked a question: “So, what you need me to do is fight against the ‘shadow’?”

The piccolo was silent for a moment, then said, “You can’t exactly put it that way… Keeper of Secrets. But it’s not entirely appropriate for me to tell you about this. Anyway, you can consider that, at the very least, fighting the ‘shadow’ is indeed a part of it.”

Siles frowned slightly.

“…I can understand your thoughts, Keeper of Secrets.” The piccolo’s tone grew somewhat lower. “You inexplicably arrived in the Fisher World, and inexplicably heard that you need to save this world, so you are bound to feel displeased.”

Siles did not deny this point.

The piccolo hesitated for a moment, as if unsure whether it should tell Siles about this, but it eventually said, “The connection between the Fisher World and your home, Earth, is much deeper and closer than you might imagine.

“Perhaps you aren’t just saving the Fisher World, but also… at least on some level, you are also saving your home. Of course, I can’t say exactly how close the two are.”

Siles abruptly raised his eyes to look at the piccolo. He asked seriously, “What does that mean?” He paused, then voiced his speculation. “Are you saying the ‘shadow’ will affect Earth too?”

“That’s not certain,” the piccolo said. “What I mean is, no one can be certain when it comes to probabilities.”

Siles furrowed his brow deeply.

“We’ve gone off-topic,” the piccolo said. “Anyway, what I want to say is that you are the chosen one—oh, that sounds just like a line from a novel—and this world needs your salvation.

“But the power of choice is also in your hands, Keeper of Secrets. You can choose to sit back and do nothing, though I don’t think that’s a choice you would make. I understand your confusion and displeasure, but… you are indeed stepping closer to the truth, step by step.”

Siles thought for a moment, then said, “You keep calling me the Keeper of Secrets, dice. What significance do the tabletop role-playing scripts I learned about on Earth have for this world?”

The piccolo muttered something softly, probably complaining that while it was formally addressing Siles as the Keeper of Secrets, Siles merely treated it as an ordinary die.

Siles: “…”

In his heart, there slowly rose the same thought and emotion that surfaced after countless resolved checks—Forget it. Don’t stoop to the dice’s level.

The piccolo quickly coughed, then said, “That was a rehearsal.” Its tone was quite serious. “Regarding possible future destinies. And when you brought those stories to this world, you inherently became the Keeper of Secrets of this world.”

Siles froze for a moment.

Those were stories of the future. And he had changed those people’s destinies. That future story would no longer happen, shifting into a different form. But, only Siles knew about this, and only he knew that he was the one who pushed it all into motion; well, perhaps he should add the dice to that list.

But the dice were merely the incarnation of the power of fate, subject to Siles’s control. Therefore, fundamentally, this matter only symbolized Siles’s authority—his identity as the world’s Keeper of Secrets.

From the very beginning, he had brought secrets to this world; from the very beginning, he had already become a bona fide Keeper of Secrets.

“…So, you are always a deity, fundamentally. It’s just that things haven’t progressed to that stage yet, and you haven’t…” The piccolo hesitated, then mumbled that particular word so vaguely that Siles completely missed it.

Siles didn’t listen closely either, simply staring quietly at the short flute on the table.

“Anyway!” the piccolo coughed, its tone reviving. “You are slowly mastering this power and slowly realizing its existence, and this is a great direction of development! You yourself are probably quite aware of this too.”

Siles nodded.

However, he was also thinking that, since this power was so strong and terrifying, the dice and Antinam probably had grand designs. What exactly did they want Siles to do?

This question troubled Siles. He weighed his words, then said, “But, I still don’t understand; why does it have to be me? What’s so special about me?”

The piccolo suddenly jumped, knocking against the table. It let out a dramatic, half-fake cry of pain, and then said, “But, Keeper of Secrets, you were always one of a kind.”

Siles was taken aback.

“…Sigh, honestly, is it even my place to praise you? That makes me, the dice, feel quite embarrassed. Anyway, if there must be one person in this world who controls the power of a deity, then I’m afraid many people would rather it be you.

“And this isn’t because you have some special trait, or because it absolutely had to be you… It’s because you are excellent enough, outstanding enough, enough to gain everyone’s recognition and appreciation; it’s because you possess a will that matches the power of a deity, and because you deserve all of this.

“Perhaps you might think we want you to save this world, so we forcibly shoved this power onto you. That was never the case. You must know that we—especially me—are incredibly picky.

“Do you think just anyone can wield such power? Do you think just anyone could, under the premise of mastering such power, continue to remain restrained and lucid, without abusing it?

“Not just anyone. Only you.”

Having finished this long speech, the piccolo exclaimed again, “There’s no time left! Oh dear, there’s really never enough time. Anyway, see you next time, Keeper of Secrets. I hope you can honestly acknowledge your own excellence; it’s not a bad thing, after all.”

As its voice fell, the piccolo lay there quietly, entirely devoid of the dice’s usual vivacity.

In the completely silenced room, Siles silently stared at the short flute. He had to admit, the dice’s words stirred some ripples in his heart, leaving him feeling slightly bashful, yet also not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Alright, he was excellent—he found it really hard to say such a thing, thankfully he was just thinking it—but, did this have anything to do with “why he was the one to save this world”?

Siles was certain that there must exist humans in the world who were even more excellent, rational, and powerful than him. But ultimately, he was the one who transmigrated to the Fisher World. So, why him? What was this “selection” mechanism?

The dice was clearly dodging the main point in answering Siles’s question, hoping that a barrage of compliments would leave him dizzy, but that was impossible.

The dice likely knew this too, which was why it left immediately after that speech, saving itself from being further interrogated by Siles. This behavior made Siles feel even more torn between laughter and tears.

He realized there might be certain… unsavory factors behind this question. Perhaps the dice was deliberately hiding something, and Siles felt a bit suspicious about that too.

A few speculations flashed through his mind, but he had to admit, these guesses all carried a fictional level of conjecture.

Therefore, he simply swept these useless thoughts away, turning instead to ponder the information he had learned from the dice during this conversation.

First, the “shadow” and Antinam were not the same deity, and the two were enemies. This point indeed relieved Siles, as he had always felt Antinam stood in opposition to the shadow.

Second, there was some sort of connection between the Fisher World and Earth. This idea had also previously appeared in Siles’s mind; after all, in some aspects, he felt the human civilization of the Fisher World was far too similar to Earth’s.

However, the dice had also said that he could return to Earth through some method, even taking Chendo with him. So, what exactly did this “connection” in a worldly sense represent?

Siles had to admit, the first thing that popped into his head was the “parallel universe” concept that Grenfield had once blurted out. But the Fisher World, which possessed bizarre powers, and a parallel universe in the realm of physics didn’t seem to be the same thing.

…Was the endpoint of science metaphysics?

Finally, a more crucial question: the tabletop role-playing game.

The dice had finally revealed why the RPG scripts appeared on Earth. In other words, that was actually an advanced “arrangement” for Siles… no, it should be said, for He Jiayin crossing over to the Fisher World.

The implication of this “arrangement” was incredibly strong, but before the dice explicitly stated it this time, he had never pondered deeply on the issue.

…That is to say, “Fate” had specially selected these eight people in the Fisher World, allowing him to know their possible future destinies. And after arriving in the Fisher World, he had intentionally or unintentionally altered their predetermined fates.

From the very beginning, he had been the Keeper of Secrets, had mastered and aligned with the power of fate, and had known certain pieces of information about this world.

This was…

A prophet.

Siles couldn’t help but freeze for a moment.

When the word “prophet” naturally appeared in his mind, he even felt surprised, because he had never thought that the act of possessing the RPG scripts itself meant being a “prophet.”

The term “prophet” came from the tribal ruin discovered by Alfonso Carte and Emmanuel—a place that was actually a “shadow” of Hoodoka’s Temple of Belan. It wasn’t about that unknown deity.

The shadows of the Temple of Belan existed just like the bubbles in the deep-sea dreams.

The Temple of Belan preserved a certain shadow from past times, and Alfonso Carte and his group had accidentally stepped into it. There, they found a parchment scroll recording revelations from a “heavenly god,” claiming a prophet would arrive to save the world drowning in darkness.

At the time, Siles felt it was merely the savior complex commonly found in ancient tribes.

But if he truly was this so-called prophet…

A prophecy?

Then who was this “heavenly god”?

Siles stared blankly for a moment, then took a deep breath. He felt a hint of helplessness.

He felt as if he were currently facing a map covered in fog; he was dispersing the mist shrouding the land piece by piece, here and there, but he didn’t know when he would finally be able to clearly see the entire map’s layout.

…What a great metaphor, perfectly matching the Fisher World’s current state, Siles told himself a dry joke.

Lately, it seemed he was getting more and more accustomed to using these dry jokes to ease his complex emotions.

He sat quietly for a moment, hearing the sounds of people moving about outside the room. Further away outside the window, the whistles of steamships drifted over one after another. While he was discussing the world’s secrets with the dice, the people of this world were still carrying on with their ordinary, everyday lives.

That realization kept Siles immersed for a long time. He felt a return to the mortal realm.

Finally, he let out a long sigh, no longer thinking about those troublesome matters. He opened the window to let some air in, then planned to spend the remainder of the morning reading a book. He would try his best not to think about issues related to this world while he read.

Their group once again had their midday lunch in the inn’s dining room. Afterward, they would head to Kingsley Port, where they would board a ship to Bethune.

Siles belatedly realized that they would be arriving at Middleton’s capital tomorrow.

Before leaving, the guide Isaac reminded them to check their luggage and not leave anything behind. Lorenzo quickly remembered he had actually forgotten a change of clothes, so he hurried upstairs to get it.

During this time, Siles noticed that the inn’s other guests—referring to the Middleton locals—were actually playing Noel Cards!

Isaac caught Siles’s gaze and heartily explained, “Last night while we were playing cards, they noticed our gameplay was very novel and joined our game. Professor Grantham heard about it and even gifted them a deck of cards.

“I heard you were the one who invented this gameplay; how interesting. We played non-stop late into the night yesterday, and many were still reluctant to part. Look at them, starting a game right at noon.”

Siles: “…”

Alright, the Noel Cards were about to take Middleton by storm, he guessed.

For a moment, he had a massive headache, unable to understand why—when Mr. Xia had clearly invented the playing cards—everyone only ended up remembering the “Noel Cards” gameplay?

…This was just like how many people knew you could play “Fight the Landlord” with a deck of poker cards, but few knew that poker cards were originally invented for divination. The people of the Fisher World and Earthlings were quite similar in that regard.

This thought left Siles not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Soon, Lorenzo returned. They each picked up their luggage and headed to Kingsley Port. They were about to board the sailing ship “Distant Sea” and head further north to Bethune.

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