He was pondering how he should make the check.
When he made a check, he always needed a definite referent. For instance, when making a check on himself, he had to say the name “Siles Noel”. But what name could a feather have?
No, he should ask, what exactly did this “name” spoken during the check correspond to?
Will? In his three-element theory, a name indeed corresponded to a person’s self-awareness, thereby constructing a person’s Will attribute. However, regarding the issue of checks, a name seemed to symbolize much more.
Siles thought deeply about this question—the question of the interrelationship between the three elements—and finally slowly reached a conclusion: it actually pointed to a definite, actual existence.
In other words, the name “Siles Noel” pointed to the man “Siles Noel” who actually existed in this world. Just like when Grenfield was explaining the concept of “biological projection,” he mentioned that if there was no specific Time Trace or item to point to a related object, one could only search through the grand river of history and time using a related item in the “conceptual sense.”
When Siles made a check, he possessed two types of “conceptual relations.”
The first was that he would say the name of the target of the check, just like entering keywords into a search engine on the Earth’s internet. He could very easily find the actual existence corresponding to this name.
The second was that his thought guided this check. In other words, he himself had some sort of connection with the target of the check in front of him. Gaze, attention, thought… the guidance of Will.
Thinking of this, Siles suddenly froze.
As soon as he thought of the power of “thought,” he inevitably thought of Chendo.
Chendo’s method of using power was different from that of Revelators. To some extent, he was closer to a deity than a human. When Siles used the Praia family’s Time Traces, he felt the exact same way.
Furthermore, when Siles searched for other people’s dream bubbles in the deep-sea dreams… that was also a power of “searching,” wasn’t it? To locate a specific existence within this vast world—that was actually an unbelievable power because this real world was not the illusory internet.
…The power of deities.
Siles closed his eyes slightly. At this moment, he thought of the reflection of the planet in the lake at that mysterious farm.
Why could such a reflection appear? Why could a deity’s power involve the entire world? That was an illusory yet real reflection appearing in the lake. That was… that was a certain form of manifestation conforming to Akamara’s power.
The power of deities, the concept of deities. Siles inevitably thought of this.
“Conceptual relation”. So, the power of a deity is to be “conceptually related” to everyone in this world?
…”Prophet”? The prophet’s fate encompasses the fate of all others… so, is this what a deity is?
He inevitably held his breath slightly, feeling a slight numbness on his back. He once again thought of his previously conceived theory of the “inner and outer worlds.”
But, does such a grand and all-encompassing inner world really exist?
This so-called “conceptual relation” is like the shadow everyone possesses. When illuminated by different light sources, everyone has different shadows; they are overlapping, not just “one.” Just like the shadow of this world.
…”Shadow”?
Siles couldn’t help but freeze.
He abruptly snapped back to reality and took a deep breath. The fireplace in Room 557 wasn’t lit, so the air in the room was as cold as the outside. Siles felt his fingers were a bit numb from the cold.
But that feeling also made him feel as if he had returned to the human world, rather than remaining immersed in that exceptionally profound and cold theory.
He casually jotted down a few words in his notebook: search, conceptual relation, shadow.
Then, he turned his gaze to that feather. He stared silently for a moment, then silently recited in his heart: “Check the Will attribute of ‘the feather in front of me’.”
As he expected, the voice of the dice indeed appeared.
[Keeper of Secrets, “the feather in front of me” (an ordinary birdman feather) is making a Will check.]
[Will: 0/…]
Unsurprisingly, the feather’s Will was indeed 0. A string of numbers unfolded in front of Siles, listing everything from 0 to 100. He deliberated for a moment, and finally chose 100.
…To be honest, he was a little curious about what would happen if he chose 0, if the feather got a Critical Success in Will. But he ultimately chose 100. He had some speculations about the result of this Critical Failure.
[Will: 0/100, Critical Failure.]
[Oh, poor feather. Pure white, tough, lightweight, and refined, yet unknowingly manipulated by a detestable hand of fate. Facts prove that there are always things stirring in the darkness; it’s just that this time, the lucky dice plans to seize the initiative.]
Siles: “…”
Why did he feel that the words the dice spoke… were so weird? And, “seize the initiative”?
Before Siles could react, he felt as if a glimmer of light flashed past him. He felt that it seemed visible only under this wondrous field of vision. The glimmer merged into the feather, and then, as if brushed by an invisible wind, the entire feather unfurled.
In that instant, the faint blue light originally shimmering on the feather transformed into a deeper, more peaceful blue, exactly like the blue radiance Siles saw every time he performed a Revelator’s ritual.
Siles couldn’t explain what happened; he just felt that after the glimmer merged into the feather, this originally ordinary, pure white feather suddenly seemed… much more lively?
Then, Siles heard a faint but undeniable voice.
“Ahem, testing… not bad… can’t be too complicated… Oh, dear Keeper of Secrets, I can finally speak freely with you. This was hard-won, indeed.”
Siles was slightly taken aback, his gaze fixed on the feather in front of him. He realized that something unbelievable had happened, yet he still felt extreme shock and surprise.
He thought, Did the critical failure of the feather’s Will allow it to be… “possessed”?
“…Dice?” he asked.
“Please call me the Dice of Fate!” the feather said indignantly. “How could an ordinary gambling dice possibly compare to me?!”
Siles: “…”
Sure enough, his ongoing feeling that the dice’s personality was becoming increasingly lively wasn’t an illusion.
“Alright, Dice of Fate,” Siles said. “How long can you maintain this form?”
“Not too long. However, now that you know this method, things will be much easier,” the feather said. “Anyway, Keeper of Secrets, I know you have many questions and many confusions, but there are some questions I cannot answer.
“…For various reasons. Like, I don’t know, or you can’t know, or things are still developing. I am willing to communicate with you, Keeper of Secrets, very willing; I’m about to explode from holding it in.
“Oh, do you know how agonizing it is to stay in that pitch-black place? You must know, because you’ve been there too. But how long have I been stuck there!
“Keeper of Secrets, you really are a dense fellow. You saw the sealed artifacts, yet you were unwilling to study them sooner. You just tossed this poor old ‘dice’ aside and ignored me. Oh, cruel Keeper of Secrets.”
The feather’s resentful tone and nagging manner of speaking gave Siles a slight headache.
He maintained a wise silence, letting the feather blabber on. He tried to find useful information in its words, but aside from learning that the dice had been in that “pitch-black place” all along, the rest was basically nonsense.
However, “pitch-black place”?
If that was the place Siles had been to, then why couldn’t the dice communicate with him back then? Or perhaps they weren’t in the same place? Was “pitch-black place” just a broader description?
The feather talked for a long time before slowly unfurling itself.
It seemed to have cheered up, so it said, “Alright, Keeper of Secrets. Let’s chat then. This fragile feather form can’t be maintained for too long, so you can pick the questions you think are most important to ask.
“Of course, we actually have plenty of time later. You can communicate with me every now and then; there’s no rush. But of course, you can’t do it too frequently, because I can’t appear in reality too often either.
“Anyway, it would be great if you could find a sturdier body; that would allow me to appear for a longer duration. This feather is practically like a glass bowl about to fall to the floor—pretty but useless.
“Sigh, it would be wonderful if you could find a dice to be my body. But, a dice can’t speak. Fortunately, the fuzz on this feather is fine and plentiful enough to allow me to talk.
“Of course, it’s not that I love talking, it’s just that I’ve held it in for too long, you understand? No one ever pays attention to this poor old ‘dice’. That’s just how the world is—silent, cold, and then time just passes! It passes!
“Hah, if things keep developing like this, one day it will turn into an even more ridiculous situation, it’s just a pity no one realizes it. If they did, many things wouldn’t have happened! Don’t you agree?”
Siles: “…”
He nodded slowly.
It was unknown how the feather sensed Siles’s feedback, but its tone became much brisker. It said, “I knew you would agree with my thoughts. So, Keeper of Secrets, what are your questions?”
Siles thought for a moment before voicing the question he wanted to ask.
“Can I still return to Earth?” He paused, then added, “With Chendo.”
The feather fell into a silence.
Siles watched it quietly.
After maintaining this stalemate for a moment, the feather said, “You can.”
Siles froze slightly.
Before the joy could fully blossom in his heart, the feather added, “As long as you are capable of doing so.”
For a moment, Siles didn’t even understand the feather’s meaning—he wanted to return to Earth, and that depended on whether he was capable?
A moment later, he understood: “So, if I want to return to Earth, I need the corresponding… ability? Power?”
“You could understand it that way, Keeper of Secrets,” the feather said. “However, this matter is both simple and complicated. Regardless, Keeper of Secrets, I must say—you can return to Earth. Even if there are conditions and requirements, you can.”
Siles was stunned for a long time before he slowly let out a sigh of relief. He felt a sense of closure. It had been like something forever dangling high above his head, and he hadn’t even known what that thing was. Only when it fell would he know the outcome.
…He could still go back. That was enough. Before this, he was lost, not knowing if he could return, not knowing if there was a way back. But now, he knew that the path did indeed exist.
It was like the beginning of a journey. He now knew the path lay faintly there, just waiting for him to step onto it.
Moreover, from the dice’s tone, Siles realized that the dice actually knew the method of return, but for various reasons, it couldn’t clearly tell Siles right now.
…Was it because his power wasn’t sufficient yet? Or was it due to more practical reasons?
Furthermore, could Chendo also embark on the journey with him? Did that mean the path wasn’t open solely to Siles alone?
“Stop spacing out, Keeper of Secrets,” the feather urged. “We’re running out of time. If you keep spacing out like this, this poor feather will break. You have time for one more question.”
Siles snapped back to reality. After deliberating for a moment, he asked, “Why did I come to the Fisher World?”
In fact, setting aside the profound topics of power, fate, and deities, the only two things Siles truly wanted to ask the dice were these: Why did he come here? And could he return?
Between the two, the latter was more urgent. Now that he had the answer to the latter, he asked the former.
However, the feather fell silent.
Siles said, “You can’t tell me the answer to this question?”
The feather suddenly let out a long sigh. With its sigh, the feather began to gradually disintegrate. Its voice slowly grew faint, but it indeed seized its final opportunity to speak that sentence.
“Because this world awaits your salvation,” it said. “We hope you can lend a helping hand.”
After saying this, the feather completely disintegrated, turning into a pile of ashes as if it had been burned. The glimmer of light once again sank into the back of Siles’s hand.
Siles subconsciously glanced at the back of his right hand, then fell into deep thought.
This world awaited his salvation?
But… him?
The first question that popped into Siles’s mind wasn’t why the world needed saving, but why the world needed his salvation.
He Jiayin, a novelist from Earth… was there anything special about him? Why was the Fisher World relying on him?
The dice obviously didn’t have time to continue explaining, though Siles also highly doubted whether it would have explained clearly anyway.
Dice of Fate. Siles pondered the phrase the dice used to introduce itself. He always felt this phrasing carried a hint of implication. Fate… fate. So, did he truly control fate?
Siles indeed had this premonition, but he also truly felt it was somewhat baffling. His self-perception was just an ordinary novelist from Earth—fine, he had transmigrated—but did he become a god in another world after transmigrating?
He found it hard to believe such a bizarre thing could actually happen.
From another perspective, this also meant there was a deeper reason behind his transmigration. The tabletop role-playing game he played with his friends before crossing over was like a rehearsal, allowing him to learn some information about this world in advance. Yet, the question remained: why was this happening?
…”Salvation,” Siles thought to himself.
Were the problems of this world related to the catastrophe of the Age of Shadows? Were they related to that mysterious “shadow”? As the only existing deity, Antinam should know what the problem with this world was, which was why He had the Church of the Past look after Siles?
This seemed like a smooth logical chain, but because the source was blurry, Siles fundamentally couldn’t understand its essence.
Ultimately, even if Siles was willing to save this world, he didn’t even know how to save it. This seemingly heavy and urgent task gave Siles a feeling of lacking both a beginning and an end.
He thought for a moment, then couldn’t help but sigh. He wasn’t willing to torture his brain with questions that would yield no answers.
Besides, if the world’s problems were truly related to the “shadow,” he was already in the process of investigating it.
Siles had a premonition, one that felt more like intuition.
Before resolving the problems of this world—or, in the dice’s words, before successfully saving this world—he probably couldn’t return to Earth either. To save a world, one must possess an equal amount of power. And this power seemed to be what could help him return to his Earth.
This was a logical progression, but Siles couldn’t help feeling a bit displeased. After all, he had inexplicably come to the Fisher World from Earth, and inexplicably learned that he needed to save this world. It seemed the power of choice wasn’t in his hands at all. This made him feel very uncomfortable.
After a moment’s thought, Siles wisely shook off these negative emotions. He needed to use a more rational method to deal with these problems, which was exactly what he had always done.
He now wanted to have a second communication with the dice more than anything. Clearly, he needed to find a suitable sealed artifact.
According to the dice, it needed a sturdier object that could also allow it to speak. That didn’t seem to mean vocal organs in a biological sense, but rather some sort of… object capable of producing sound.
This object needed to be a bit more precise, so that the dice could talk more.
Siles fell into brief thought, then suddenly thought of a possible category—musical instruments, right?
If it needed to be able to make sound, and the sound had to be sufficiently detailed, while also satisfying the “stability” in the sense of a Time Trace, then those ancient musical instruments would be a great choice.
Perhaps he could ask Ms. Aston if such a sealed artifact existed within the History Society. However, even if there was one, it might be a very precious existence. Perhaps he should also try looking through other channels.
…I can also ask the Church of the Past, Siles thought.
A moment later, he slowly reined in his wandering thoughts and re-examined this conversation with the dice.
Regardless of whether more questions had arisen, at least this conversation had given him a definitive answer. Even if that answer might be very slim, even if it might require a considerable price from him, it was at least an opportunity.
The situation he dreaded facing the most was the dice telling him directly that it was already forever impossible for him to return to Earth. That would perhaps be a nightmare.
Even though he had gradually grown accustomed to life in the Fisher World, even though he already had his lover, friends, and career here, regardless of all that, his self-identity was always that of He Jiayin, the novelist from Earth.
That was an indelible part of his soul.
Thinking of this, Siles couldn’t help but shake his head. He simply stood up, walked to the window, opened it, and looked out at Lamifa City. After learning that he would ultimately be able to return to Earth, his mindset had also become much more calm and peaceful.
The Fisher World, he thought. He seemed to be able to view this world with a more positive attitude now. This was a stop on his long journey—perhaps unexpected enough, perhaps baffling enough—but regardless, he had already left his own mark here.
And naturally, that had also become a mark in his life.
He gazed silently and for a long time at Lamifa City amidst the wind and snow. Dark clouds shrouded this city; perhaps it was the effect of the weather, or perhaps this world was inherently somewhat precarious.
The world, the world. He let out a sigh, then closed the window.
…Of course, part of the reason was because it was truly very cold outside. Siles helplessly rubbed his frozen fingers.
He flipped open his pocket watch to check the time and found that only half an hour had passed. He had originally set aside two hours of free time for this, but the progress had been unexpectedly smooth.
He turned to pondering the matter itself.
Why could the dice use the feather to speak? Or rather, why could the dice control the feather?
The feather had indeed experienced a Critical Failure in Will, but that didn’t necessarily mean the result of a Critical Failure was “being possessed.” There must be a more logical developmental process behind this.
It very likely conformed to Siles’s three-element theory.
Moreover, judging from the dice’s words, it wasn’t just the dice waiting for this opportunity in the “darkness,” but rather that the dice had always been waiting for the right moment. What were the other “things”?
Siles carefully considered these questions, and finally realized that the most likely reason the dice was able to become the feather was because the dice filled in the critical element the feather was missing—that is, Will.
…But this was somewhat bizarre too. What exactly did the dice represent? If it symbolized the power of a deity, then perhaps the dice was the Divine Title?
This sounded very fitting for the appearance of the dice; however, the dice paradoxically seemed to possess self-awareness, was able to converse with Siles, and had a very clear self-identity as the “Dice of Fate.”
After thinking for a moment, Siles couldn’t help but shake his head.
He thought, it seemed he still didn’t understand certain aspects of this world well enough.
He jotted down a few questions in his notebook, then gathered the ashes of the feather and put them in the trash can. It would be considered project waste and taken away. Of course, it was also highly likely to be mistaken for ordinary dust.
Siles thought to himself that, to some extent, these ashes could also be compared to cremated remains, or perhaps Stardust. Both were the remnants of corpses, yet Stardust was highly sought after. Power was ultimately the dominant theme of this world.
…Of course, for Siles, who understood the true nature of Stardust, he now tried his best to only consume potions when absolutely necessary. Associating it with the true nature of Stardust made him feel slightly nauseated and repulsed every time he swallowed a potion.
Even though it wasn’t very obvious, and even though he rationally knew it was necessary, he still hoped to make things easier on himself whenever possible.
…He started to envy Chendo, because Chendo didn’t need to consume potions to use his power.
Siles tidied up everything in the room—he didn’t even bother opening the box containing the reward Time Trace, planning to deal with it after the Jonathan matter was resolved—and then left the History Society.
It was still early, so he planned to head to the West District a bit earlier. Light snow began to fall again, but the sky was still reasonably bright.
Around three o’clock, Siles arrived at Dawson Street.
Irene’s face was full of smiles, and she said very happily, “Siles, our business is really quite good! We’ve received at least a dozen orders already.”
Siles was somewhat surprised to learn this. He couldn’t help but say, “That is indeed a good thing.”
Chendo walked over and took his cold hand. He looked like he wanted to say something, probably about Siles not keeping warm properly. But in the end, he just squeezed Siles’s fingers.
Today, Chendo was also wearing a formal suit and overcoat similar to Siles’s. It was hard to say to what extent this was because the emerald-eyed man wanted to bring himself closer to Siles. Regardless, today did indeed count as a somewhat important occasion.
Siles smiled slightly at Chendo, his gaze very soft.
Chendo froze slightly, instinctively starting to say, “You…” He didn’t know why, but he felt that some sort of shift had occurred in Siles, as if it had brought the distance between him and Siles closer.
However, Chendo himself couldn’t exactly say where that distance came from. It wasn’t his issue, but Siles’s.
But at this moment, the invisible barrier that seemed to always lie between them dissolved in an instant. Just because of this half-day separation.
Chendo was stunned for a moment, and finally swallowed his question back. This wasn’t an appropriate setting, with people coming and going all around; moreover, he believed that Siles would ultimately tell him everything.
That was Siles’s secret, and Chendo had always known very well that his beloved deity was someone accustomed to keeping secrets.
In the end, Chendo merely said nonchalantly, “Your hands are too cold.”
Siles, however, looked at him thoughtfully.
They stayed at Dawson Street for a while. Chendo said, “This store might have good prospects, but this location is ultimately awkward. If business is really good, maybe we can move the store somewhere else in the future?”
Siles nodded, saying, “That’s true.”
However, he also thought that this underground black market, and indeed Dawson Street as a whole, were Jonathan Bryant’s sphere of influence. And Jonathan’s days were numbered. Would this awkward store location really remain the status quo forever? He was very doubtful about this.
Of course, the issue Chendo mentioned did exist. Dawson Street engaged in some rather unseemly businesses, and the underground black market was a mixed bag. It was clear that his toy store looked quite out of place here.
Fortunately, most of the current business came from mail orders. Occasionally, some people who came to the underground black market to buy things would drop by the toy store on their way. It was apparent that adults were also quite interested in these educational toys.
As evening approached, the store prepared to close. Siles confirmed that the first day’s revenue was quite good, and also confirmed that Irene had smoothly taken over the grocery store’s business, so he planned to leave with Chendo.
But before leaving, he was stopped by a somewhat nervous-looking Anthony Finn.
Anthony seemed to have discovered something but didn’t dare tell his parents, so he could only tell Siles.
He swallowed nervously and anxiously, then whispered, “Professor… Jimmy, Jimmy is missing.”
