Because of what had happened that morning, a heavy atmosphere hung over the entire First Snow Light train.
The four of them were in no mood to play cards anymore. They either lay down or sat, occasionally exchanging a few words. Even the usually lively Alva was prone to let out a sigh now and then.
They passed the time in this somber environment until the conductor came looking for them once more, requesting that they all accompany him to the dining car at the front of the train.
“What happened?” Alva asked with his usual familiarity.
The conductor who had come to fetch them was on the younger side. After a moment’s hesitation, he replied, “We found some… clues.” He glanced at Siles. “We might need you all to confirm something.”
Siles and Quinton exchanged a look. With a sense of expectancy, Siles asked, “You found the star chart?”
“…Yes,” the conductor said with a hint of hesitation. “But… well, in any case, please follow me.”
With a mix of perplexity and doubt, they followed in the conductor’s footsteps.
On the way to the dining car, Siles happened to glance out the window and noticed that the clouds had scattered and the fog had lifted. The rather dim winter sunlight shone down upon the earth, making the bleak, withered scenery of the land starkly apparent.
The endless expanse of wilderness made Siles suddenly realize that they had indeed entered the Withered Wasteland. This was a land composed of yellow soil, desert, withered grass, occasional oases, and ruins, relay stations, and villages that hid countless secrets.
There were still two days and two nights left in their journey. They would arrive at Biedel City on the morning of October 26th.
Siles’s thoughts drifted naturally along the stretching land, thinking of Alfonso Calverley and Emmanuel, who were far away at Carol Houseman. He didn’t know if they had found any new clues by now, if they had put themselves in danger, or if they were safely waiting for his arrival. He hoped it was the latter, though he doubted they had that much patience.
A few moments later, they reached the dining car.
Inside, the corpse was still laid out. However, even in winter, a body could not be kept long at this temperature. Siles could already faintly smell a hint of putrefaction, though it might have just been his imagination.
To the side, the deceased man’s wife remained seated, her face expressionless and her gaze vacant. The men who had been there in the morning were gone, likely cleared of suspicion by the conductors.
As for why Siles and his group had been brought here, it was likely due to the star chart resting on one of the dining tables.
This was the first time Siles had actually laid eyes on the item Ms. Heidi had lost.
It was roughly the size of a regular handkerchief, made of an elegant blue-black fabric adorned with golden embroidery that lent it a luxurious, exquisite appearance. The golden threads formed a beautiful, brilliant chart of the stars.
What made Siles feel a slight pang of discomfort, however, was the presence of mottled bloodstains on the chart. The blood had stained the golden threads, making the originally sacred celestial trajectories look bloody and eerie.
A conductor sat across from the woman and said, “Madam, we need your cooperation. We are deeply sorry for the passing of your husband, but… regardless, we hope to uncover the truth behind his death.”
The woman sat motionless, her face entirely blank.
The dining car gradually fell completely quiet as the lingering whispers died away.
Siles noticed that the woman kept her fingers tightly intertwined. It seemed that after the initial shock and grief of losing her husband, she had defaulted to an instinctive, defensive stance.
After a long pause, she spoke. “As you can see… I have nothing to explain.” She caught her breath. “I… he did indeed steal that star chart.”
“For what reason?” the conductor asked.
“For what reason?” the woman suddenly cried out in a breakdown. “For money, of course!”
Everyone froze, looking at the woman and then at the corpse with expressions that ranged from belated realization to sudden understanding.
They looked at their meager clothing, remembered that the couple lived in separate ten-person cabins, and recalled the man’s vulgar, cowardly behavior… Siles heard someone let out a soft sigh.
The woman’s psychological defense had shattered in an instant. She murmured, “Our child… he is gravely ill. We had to scrape together money for his treatment. Lamifa City is a terrifying place. Without money, you can achieve nothing.
“In the end, we had no choice but to head for the Ashless Lands to try and make some money. My husband… he stole that lady’s property. I don’t know why he did it… or perhaps I do, but I…
“…But I was just angry with him. I didn’t stop him. He must have known what I meant. We thought that star chart could bring us wealth. We planned to find an opportunity to sell it after returning to Lamifa City…”
Hearing her words, Siles gradually understood the whole picture.
Why had the middle-aged man behaved so fearfully and deferentially in front of his wife?
Because he had committed a crime.
Their child was sick, and they needed money. But clearly, before the man stole the star chart, the two of them had intended to earn money honestly.
However, at that single moment in the dining car when he encountered that dazed lady carrying an item that looked incredibly valuable, the man could not restrain the greed in his heart.
The woman was naturally furious, and perhaps that anger was laced with a sense of deep shame. She scolded her husband, but at the end of the day, they desperately needed the money. Thus, driven by a mixture of guilt and reluctant desperation, the woman implicitly condoned it.
Yet she still maintained a disapproving attitude toward her husband. That was why their relationship had seemed so strained on the train, rarely meeting except to eat meals together.
…And the stolen item had ultimately brought them ruin.
The woman wept softly, continuing, “After obtaining that star chart, my husband slowly became a different person. His attitude toward me didn’t change much, but as time passed, he became increasingly arrogant and boastful to the outside world.
“…I really don’t know why he turned into that. He was never that kind of person before, but now he became like this… Sir, I heard about his conflict with you all. Right here.
“But please believe me, my husband was never that kind of man in the past!”
The woman looked toward Siles and Alva, her eyes filled with utter despair. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed her husband’s changes, but right now, she was practically pleading with others, desperate for someone to tell her, “Yes, that wasn’t really your husband.”
Siles remained silent.
Alva asked, his tone somewhat downcast, “So, his death was also caused by this star chart? Just because of… a map?”
The woman froze, staring blankly at the star chart, and murmured, “I don’t know… I don’t understand. Why did everything turn out like this? I really don’t understand…”
A star chart, Siles thought.
According to what Ms. Heidi had said before, the power of this star chart came from all the past astrologers of the Ashless Lands Circus. It did indeed possess a magical function akin to analyzing the trajectories of the stars to divine human fate.
In other words, possessing this star chart was “as if” one held the reins of human destiny.
As an astrologer, Heidi understood the nature of this power very well. She knew it wasn’t true prophecy. However, to a middle-aged ordinary man who had stolen such power, could he really withstand such a… “temptation”?
It was the divination of fate, after all.
Siles recalled the scene when he had encountered the middle-aged man in the dining car the previous evening.
The man had said the seats “ought to” belong to them. That natural, entitled tone had displeased Siles at the time, but now he realized that it might have been proof of the man being influenced by the star chart.
Siles’s gaze naturally drifted toward the blood-stained star chart. He wondered, Did that blood come from this man? Did he attempt to divine the future of his sick child? Did he try to foresee the success of their journey?
The golden threads were heavily stained with vibrant red blood…
Suddenly, Siles’s vision went dark. Someone had placed a hand over his eyes.
Startled, he instinctively took two steps back and turned his head, only to realize it was Quinton who had reached out.
Quinton said in a disapproving, low voice, “Professor Noel, tell me, is staring directly at an out-of-control Time Trace your idea of being cautious?”
Siles realized that every time Quinton mocked him, he would call him “Professor Noel,” and if the mockery ran deeper, he would use “Professor Siles Noel.”
Well… it seemed he had grasped certain personality traits of this powerful and mysterious explorer.
Siles calmly thanked him in a low voice, admitting that he hadn’t been cautious enough. He obviously couldn’t say that it was because his Willpower attribute was high enough that he could afford to be so reckless—or rather, bold.
Quinton didn’t understand the nature of the power Siles held, yet he was still willing to lend a helping hand at this moment. Siles decided that Quinton Praia was indeed a good person at heart, even if his manner of expression wasn’t particularly likable.
Quinton seemed entirely speechless. He simply shook his head, feeling a bout of weariness—seriously, how could someone like Siles Noel exist? Quinton wondered in bafflement.
Every time Quinton tried to use cold irony or sarcasm, it felt like hitting empty air. Not only did he fail to get the reaction he wanted, but Siles would instead thank him in an exceptionally calm, rational, and even placid tone.
…Thank him! It was utterly mind-boggling, Quinton thought. His original intention hadn’t been to help Siles… at least, not the kind of help this Professor Siles Noel imagined!
Their minor interaction didn’t attract anyone else’s attention, as everyone else was focused on what the woman was saying.
One of the conductors summarized, “So, your husband was affected by the out-of-control Time Trace, causing his mind to become deactivated, making him behave abnormally. However, that still doesn’t explain his death.”
The woman opened her mouth, but in the end, she asked helplessly, “What is an out-of-control Time Trace?”
The conductor was taken aback.
Alva spoke up in a tone of disbelief, “You didn’t even know what an out-of-control Time Trace was, yet you decided to head to the Ashless Lands?! Seriously, are you guys just looking to die?”
His tone and choice of words weren’t very pleasant, but those who heard it couldn’t help but nod in silent agreement.
Because the Ashless Lands was precisely that kind of dangerous region. Ordinary people, especially those who knew nothing about Enlighteners or Time Traces, were better off staying within the safe, civilized confines of cities.
Of course, the world never lacked for reckless and ignorant people.
“Madam,” Siles spoke in a deep voice, “I am afraid I must ask, why did you decide to head to the Ashless Lands? Who made you come to this decision?”
This was exactly what the others found puzzling as well.
This couple knew absolutely nothing about out-of-control Time Traces. Just moments ago, when the woman mentioned her husband stealing the star chart, everyone had assumed the couple knew the value of a Time Trace.
But clearly, they simply thought it—the handkerchief, which they probably just viewed as a beautiful, expensive handkerchief—could be sold for a decent price based on its value as a handicraft.
They had absolutely no idea what a Time Trace was! Under such circumstances, how could they have ever thought of going to the Ashless Lands?
Even if their child was gravely ill, everyone knew the Ashless Lands was chaotic and dangerous. Ordinary citizens wouldn’t just up and decide to venture there.
Unless someone had pushed them.
The woman stared at them blankly, as if only just realizing the depth of the danger and despair they had stepped into. Her face gradually filled with sorrow and a helpless surge of anger.
She said, “The underground gangs of the West District.”
Siles froze slightly, a feeling of “as expected” surfacing in his mind.
“The underground gangs of Lamifa City’s West District,” the woman whispered. “They are buying up products from the Ashless Lands. We heard it’s things like antiques and vessels.
“They buy them at incredibly high prices. We have a neighbor who sold an item and struck it rich… We didn’t have anything like that in our home… so we thought, maybe we could go to the Ashless Lands to try our luck.
“…It was our only way left to save our child. So, we left our child in the care of his grandparents, and with the mindset of giving it a shot, we came here…”
A expression that was half-crying, half-grimacing appeared on her face.
She said, “We did wrong, didn’t we? We were ignorant and fearless, not even knowing what kind of danger we were exposing ourselves to… We… were truly foolish!”
She spoke on the verge of collapse, then burst into heavy tears.
The others present remained silent. Eventually, one of the conductors reached out and gently patted the woman’s shoulder, hoping to offer some comfort, even if such comfort was entirely futile now.
After a short while, the woman’s emotions finally stabilized. She asked quietly, “So, my husband’s death was because of this… according to your words, an out-of-control Time Trace?”
The conductor hesitated for a moment before saying, “We can’t say that for sure. This star chart did cause a massive change in your husband’s temperament, but death… might not be because of it.”
People who suffered from spiritual deactivation would ultimately turn into walking corpses, but they didn’t necessarily lose their physical life right away.
Sometimes Siles felt that spiritual deactivation and spiritual pollution were practically opposite sides of the same coin. Perhaps the former meant a loss of spirituality, while the latter meant an excess of spirituality. Neither outcome was a good thing.
He couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh at the latent dangers hidden within this world.
“Then who killed my husband?!” the woman asked in near disbelief. “We didn’t provoke anyone… That woman! That wretched owner of the—out-of-control Time Trace!
“Was it because this thing was about to go out of control that she intentionally let us get our hands on it?! Yes, that must be it! She shook off the trouble, while we instead…”
She threw a tantrum. Everyone knew it was just an emotional release from her breakdown, so no one corrected her.
Dr. Chester murmured in a low voice, “Poisoning and suffocation… those are two separate conditions…”
Yes, two separate conditions, Siles thought.
Who poisoned the deceased? Who strangled him? Were they the same person?
Siles’s gaze turned toward the corpse still resting on the dining table. After a moment of hesitation, he finally decided to attempt an Investigation check.
Although he figured his Investigation attribute wouldn’t yield much, he wanted to give it a try regardless.
Furthermore, ever since he had used a check in the kitchen after the banquet to turn the tide, Siles had become less resistant to this power—at least, when at a dead end, making a check on himself was a viable option.
As for interfering in the destinies of others, Siles still couldn’t bring himself to do so with a clear conscience.
He couldn’t help but sigh at the fact that he was, ultimately, human. An attribute as high as 93 Willpower couldn’t mask the inherent laziness of his human nature.
…Of course, he thought, when a check was needed, he should just perform it without wavering or hesitating.
However, he wasn’t currently under the effects of an active ritual.
Thus, Siles said quietly, “I’ll be right back, going to the restroom.”
Beside him, Quinton gave a noncommittal nod.
Siles temporarily left the carriage. He pulled out the small vial of potion with 10% purity that he always kept on him and took a sip. It would last for about three to four hours.
Following that, he put on the [Akamara’s Eyeglass Frame] that always hung around his neck.
His fingers brushed against the pocket watch in his pocket. He stared out into the distance, spacing out for a brief moment, then checked the watch again to confirm that about three minutes had passed—roughly the time required for a trip to the restroom. Then, he returned to the dining car.
No one noticed his brief departure and return. Even Quinton, who stood casually by the door, only threw a bored glance his way. He looked like his patience was running thin, as the conversation between the woman and the conductors hadn’t yielded any new progress during the time Siles was away.
Upon returning to the dining car, Siles habitually scanned his surroundings, then paused.
His gaze accidentally swept past the star chart lying on the dining table, and he realized that a deep blue, highly mysterious glow was emanating from it.
That deep blue light wasn’t quite the same as the blue radiance of the potion; the former was deeper, like a cold winter night sky, while the latter could be compared to a bright, clear summer sky.
Regardless, that deep blue light, surging like a breath, seemed to verify that this was indeed a Time Trace that had gained activity.
Moreover, judging by the intensity of the glow, it wasn’t just a tiny bit of activity.
This made Siles suddenly knit his brows.
He realized that because the star chart had always been kept by Ms. Heidi, he had subconsciously assumed it had only begun to go out of control after being stolen and leaving her possession.
But if it had only been a matter of a few days, could that deep blue light really be this intense?
Siles frowned, wondering whether something had gone wrong over the past few days, or if this thing had already been out of control while Ms. Heidi held it.
Yet, over all these years, nothing had gone wrong?
No… perhaps he shouldn’t just take Heidi’s word at face value. Heaven knew how long ago Heidi had obtained this star chart, and heaven knew what her true mental state was… Perhaps the environment and atmosphere of the circus had suppressed this star chart.
And as Heidi left the circus, this ancient Time Trace began to spiral out of control and mutate.
Pondering this, Siles felt that the deceased’s death might hide some other unspeakable secret. Perhaps he and his wife had indeed accidentally become entangled in an event caused by an out-of-control Time Trace, but his actual death?
That might be a completely separate matter.
Siles turned his gaze toward the corpse and silently chanted in his mind: “Check Siles Noel’s Investigation attribute.”
Ever since his last accidental discovery by Quinton while performing a check, Siles had tried performing a check by chanting it silently in his mind, and it had successfully triggered the dice roll just the same.
He had reflected slightly on his own slow wit and decided that from then on, he would just chant it silently rather than speaking aloud.
In his mind, the sound of a rolling die echoed.
[Keeper, Siles Noel (University Professor) is performing an Investigation check.]
[Investigation: 30/…]
Siles’s Investigation attribute had never been very high; it truly wasn’t his strong suit. Fortunately, even though the dice only gave him two choices, one of them happened to be a success.
Thus, Siles selected the successful result without hesitation.
[Investigation: 30/25, Success.]
[Do you think you are challenging fate? No, you have simply finally noticed a question you overlooked: Who does that vibrant bloodstain on the star chart actually belong to? Remember, initially, there were two suspects believed to have stolen the star chart.]
…Two people?
Siles couldn’t help but freeze, a subtle premonition rising in his heart. He wondered, Is the other suspect on this very train as well?
He had assumed that since one person stole the star chart, the other must be innocent. But according to the dice’s hint…
Mulling this over, Siles slowly walked over to the side of the corpse.
He noticed the graying fingernails that Dr. Chester had mentioned. But what truly drew Siles’s attention wasn’t that. He stared intently for a moment, then murmured in a low voice, “There are no wounds.”
“What?” Alva asked curiously. “Professor, what wounds are you talking about?”
Siles glanced at him and said, “There are bloodstains on the star chart, and a considerable amount at that. If this blood belonged to the deceased, he would have to have self-inflicted wounds on his body. However, I don’t see any.”
He turned to look at Chester and asked, “Doctor, when you performed the examination, did you find any wounds on the body?”
Chester visibly froze, seemingly not having paid attention to this detail at all. He recalled for a moment, then said with absolute certainty, “No, there are no fresh wounds whatsoever.”
The deceased’s wife opened her mouth, asking blankly, “Sir, are you saying…”
“Someone…” Siles weighed his words carefully, “or rather, your husband, was highly likely studying this star chart together with another person over the past period of time. And that person is the one who truly traced this star chart with their own blood.”
The woman’s blank expression made it obvious that she had never even considered such a possibility.
The conductor, on the other hand, seemed to quickly catch onto Siles’s meaning. He asked, “Madam, after you and your husband arrived at Maltz City, did the two of you ever separate?”
The woman fell silent for a moment before saying, “We barely spent any time together. I… I couldn’t bring myself to face the fact that he stole something, so the day before yesterday, after we arrived at Maltz and bought the tickets, we separated.
“I spent the whole time wandering around Maltz City until we boarded the train yesterday and met up again. After that, we agreed to meet up during meals. I felt his attitude was a bit off, but I was distracted myself.
“We met once during dinner yesterday evening, but after eating, we went our separate ways. After that, it was this morning…”
As she spoke, her expression grew even more helpless and lost. She seemed, at least at this moment, deeply regretful that she hadn’t paid more attention to her husband’s daily activities, otherwise perhaps there would still be room to salvage things.
The conductor said, “It seems we must investigate the source of this mysterious blood. Your husband’s death might also be related to this mysterious individual… We might need to seek help from some extraordinary people for this.”
He was likely referring to the ritual of Trace Tracking, Siles thought.
After experiencing several incidents himself, Siles realized that Trace Tracking indeed played a massive role at certain moments, and for investigators of the Church of the Past and members of the History Society’s Second Corridor, it was a highly fundamental ritual.
However, Siles himself had yet to master this ritual, primarily because he hadn’t obtained a suitable Time Trace.
Siles mentioned the matter of the “two theft suspects” to the conductor.
The conductor said with some surprise, “You suspect one of them might be…?”
“Yes,” Siles said quietly. “Regardless, it’s at least a direction.”
The conductor nodded thoughtfully.
After confirming the next target for the investigation, the conductors thanked Siles and indicated that they could return to their compartment.
Alva asked enthusiastically, “If there’s progress in the subsequent investigation, could you let us know?”
Siles couldn’t help but glance at him. Alva had asked the exact question he wanted to know but felt a bit too embarrassed to ask directly.
The conductor seemed to hesitate for a moment, but ultimately, considering Dr. Chester had performed the examination and Siles had helped analyze the case, the conductor nodded in agreement.
Before leaving, Siles hesitated for a moment, then walked over to the woman’s side, sat across from her, and asked, “Madam, if you don’t mind… what kind of illness does your child actually have?”
The woman lifted her eyes to look at Siles, her expression blank for a moment before she said, “My child… the doctor said something is wrong with his… mind.”
A mental illness? Siles was surprised to learn this.
The woman continued, “He always seems to think someone is talking to him. Sometimes, I notice him talking to himself, as if conversing with someone. He seems to think he lives somewhere else, with a different identity…”
Sounds like dissociative identity disorder, Siles thought.
He felt a brief loss for words. He had originally thought it was some other illness, like typhoid or a fracture, which might have allowed Dr. Chester to help.
But… a mental illness?
This was an era that treated mental illness as the price for offending the gods or confused it with out-of-control Time Trace events. With Siles’s shallow psychological knowledge derived from Earth, he couldn’t cure the boy either.
Under such circumstances, it was already quite incredible that this couple recognized it as an illness, believed it could be cured, and worked hard to make money for it.
…Of course, from another perspective, it was hard to say whether the boy had truly come into contact with some out-of-control Time Trace or something bearing divine pollution, thereby causing his mental state to deteriorate.
Siles thought for a moment, then said, “When you return to Lamifa City, if you have the chance, perhaps you can leave a letter at 13 Milford Street. I am quite interested in the designs of the West District’s underground gangs, and perhaps I can offer you some assistance as well.”
The woman froze for a moment, and then tears of intense emotion and pure gratitude gradually welled up in her withered, dry eyes. She said, “Sir! Sir… I really don’t know how to thank you. I really…”
Her entire body began to tremble, and she ultimately broke into choked sobs.
Some people nearby looked at Siles curiously, but Siles remained silent, simply watching the woman in front of him quietly. He knew he couldn’t offer too much help… but he at least knew what kind of help he could provide.
Moreover, he truly wanted to investigate the West District’s underground gangs. After so many days, the woman before him was the only person who could potentially provide a useful clue.
Once the woman slowly calmed down and continued to softly thank him repeatedly, Siles asked at an appropriate moment, “Madam, how may I address you?”
“Louisa Lampson,” she said softly.
Siles nodded. “Siles Noel. Mrs. Lampson, please restrain your grief, and think of your child. He is still waiting for your return.”
Louisa sat there dazed for a moment, then gently thanked Siles, appearing to have recovered quite a bit.
Siles then stood up, bid her farewell, and left the dining car.
His conversation with Louisa had lasted for a while, so his companions had patiently waited for him.
Quinton stared at Siles with a highly unreadable gaze, but when Siles looked over, wondering what he wanted to say, Quinton turned his head away and remained completely silent.
Alva lamented, “Professor, you really are a kind-hearted person. With you extending a helping hand to that lady, hopefully she can smoothly overcome this hardship in the future.”
Siles nodded, then shook his head. “It’s mutually beneficial. I am indeed quite interested in the designs of the West District’s underground gangs. This matter… isn’t something I just became interested in today; I’ve encountered some related things before.”
For instance, Nona Norrison, the granddaughter of that museum watchman. Right now, he didn’t know how Nona was doing either. There was still nearly half a month left before the next opening of the Deep Sea Dream.
Thinking of that innocent girl who was suffering from illness, Siles felt he could make some efforts within his power—such as trying to investigate what exactly the underground gangs had been collecting these Time Traces for over the past few months.
From the museum watchman’s theft to today’s deceased man’s theft, the underground gangs had already indirectly caused quite a few tragedies. With a cruel, indifferent attitude, the underground gangs pushed those ordinary people to come into contact with Time Traces, even out-of-control ones.
This was hardly good news.
Siles and his companions had previously thought the underground gangs were planning something during the Divine Birth Day celebrations. However, the perfectly peaceful Divine Birth Day made them realize that things weren’t that simple.
This collection behavior had already persisted for several months, which was truly worrying.
Dr. Chester said thoughtfully, “Mental illness… that isn’t my area of expertise. However, I know some doctors who might have some understanding of it.”
Siles nodded and added, “But in any case, that will have to wait until we return to Lamifa City.”
Chester agreed with this point as well.
As midday approached, they went directly to the dining car at the rear of the train to grab a bite to eat. Some passengers nearby were also discussing the death on the train, but it seemed the travelers heading to the Ashless Lands didn’t care all that much.
Perhaps death was a norm in the Ashless Lands.
This atmosphere actually made Siles feel a bit unaccustomed, but perhaps this was just the Ashless Lands.
That withered, mist-shrouded land and the accompanying cruel, cold, and chaotic atmosphere—that was the true Ashless Lands. It absolutely lacked the peaceful and warm facade found in cities.
After eating, they returned to compartment 901.
Since the investigation into the deceased was progressing well, the atmosphere in the afternoon became much lighter. They chatted idly for a while first, and then, at Alva’s suggestion, they started playing cards again.
Siles remained the dealer, watching the other three play with a hint of boredom. After one round ended, while he was shuffling the cards, he remarked casually, “If the gameplay of this card game were changed to a battle format, it might be more interesting.”
This was a hypothesis he came up with based on his experience playing card games on Earth.
“Battle?” Alva asked, a bit confused as he scratched his hair. “How would we battle?”
Siles thought for a moment and said, “Each Old God card has three affiliated Believer cards. These Believer cards can have their own functions, such as attack, defense, healing, and so on.
“At the start of each round, after choosing their Old God faction, players can use Believer cards to attack the opponent’s Old God card and protect their own. The player whose Old God card ultimately survives the entire round is the winner.
“…This is just a rough idea; many rules are still incomplete.”
Though he framed it that way, Chester and Alva’s eyes were already lighting up, and even Quinton murmured a low comment, likely along the lines of it sounding quite interesting.
One had to realize that this was the Fisher World, which didn’t even have standard poker cards. People’s daily entertainment consisted solely of reading books and newspapers. Well, there might be some less-than-legal forms of entertainment, but Siles hadn’t come into contact with them.
As far as Siles knew, people’s daily lives seemed to include some basic games, similar to archery, ring tossing, and rolling dice on Earth.
However, he had never heard of this kind of casual competitive game involving several people at a single table. Perhaps his roommate, Lorenzo Grantham, would know more about these things.
In fact, when he saw the “Fate Cards” Alva pulled out, he had truly felt a bit surprised. However, the most basic gameplay of Fate Cards was somewhat dull, being nothing more than players scheming against one another, concealing themselves while trying to read others.
…Siles actually didn’t care for this kind of gameplay. He was someone who had to be the Game Master even when playing tabletop RPGs.
So, drawing from the card games he had played in his previous life, he casually mentioned this “battle” mode.
However, once he actually said it out loud, he suddenly froze, thinking that this kind of faction-based, combative card gameplay actually fit this deck of Fate Cards perfectly.
He had no time for further idle thoughts, as Alva was already urging him to sort out the rules of this gameplay so they could put it into practice.
Chester even lamented, “Professor, you truly live up to being a novelist. Your whimsical ideas are truly admirable.”
Siles merely smiled modestly. He knew this was based on his experiences from Earth’s civilization, but explaining it would be far too troublesome and would easily trap him in the dilemma of “excessive modesty being a form of arrogance.”
Over the next period of time, through the joint efforts of the four of them, they actually managed to iron out a basic set of rules for the new gameplay. Alva went so far as to directly pull out a notebook and pen to record it.
First off, in this battle mode, the Old God cards obviously couldn’t be hidden; they had to be played face-up. However, the Believer cards would only be revealed the moment they were played; while held in the hand, they remained hidden.
Secondly, having only three Believer cards per Old God card was a bit too few in practice. Thus, they artificially divided the Old God cards into three factions, allowing the special Believer cards within the same faction to be shared.
But if the Old God card and the Believer card matched perfectly, the capability of the Believer card would be slightly stronger.
Additionally, the Devout Believer cards served as universal attack cards, regardless of what the Old God card was. The attack value was fixed at 1 point.
…Yes, they had introduced a numerical value system.
Finally, different Old God cards possessed different “health pools” and abilities. Some Old God cards had low health but highly useful abilities, while others had high health but less practical abilities.
Alva mentioned at this point that the card faces for the Old God cards still required more deliberation. However, today they were merely discussing a fundamental way to play.
The “health” of all Believer cards was fixed at 2 points, while the health of Old God cards was typically above 5 points.
The Devout cards carried 1 point of attack; the abilities of the other special Believer cards were incredibly varied. There was attack, healing, defense, and some special abilities—such as, according to Siles’s suggestion, skipping a player’s turn for that round.
When he proposed this ability, the other three couldn’t help but freeze.
Alva directly yelled out, “Professor, this ability is way too disgusting!”
Siles shrugged his shoulders, rare for him to disregard his usual poise, thinking, This is disgusting? If you were to play certain card games on Earth, wouldn’t your blood pressure skyrocket on the spot?
However, Siles’s suggestion seemed to spark their imagination. Before long, concepts like removing defense, continuous health drain, and attack reduction began to appear in their designs for the Believer cards.
Siles gradually felt a subtle sense of guilt, feeling as though he had led some people astray…
By evening, Alva’s notebook was already filled to the brim with their thoughts on this gameplay. He looked at it with immense satisfaction, then said slowly, “Gentlemen, I feel… this game we’ve created will take the whole world by storm!”
The young man’s grand ambitions received no response from his elders. Quinton and Chester didn’t seem to care all that much about this afternoon’s entertainment, and while Siles knew Alva’s words held some truth, when it came to promoting a card game in an alternate world…
He decided it was better to remain cautiously optimistic.
What if these cards provoked some furious followers of the Old Gods? Well…
Thus, Siles ultimately chose to remain silent.
Alva looked at them, feeling rather slighted, then snorted and said, “Once we get back to Lamifa City, I’ll have my parents print the new card faces. Don’t worry, when the time comes, I’ll split the profits with you all! Let’s make money together!”
His companions gave noncommittal responses, though Siles offered a word of encouragement, albeit without much excitement.
However, Alva seemed perfectly content. His inner thoughts were likely along the lines of: Foolish adults! Just wait until the amount on the money orders blows your minds!
Chester checked the time and suggested, “We can go stretch our legs out in the corridor to get some fresh air, then head to the dining car for dinner.”
“Let’s go.” Alva tucked his notebook away safely, being the first to step out of the compartment. It seemed he needed some physical activity to vent his inner excitement.
Chester followed him out.
Quinton, on the other hand, walked out slowly alongside Siles.
Quinton said, “That is indeed a rather interesting way to play. You have a lot of whimsical ideas, that’s the truth, Siles.”
His tone was rarely this genuine.
Siles froze slightly, then said, “Perhaps I have my homeland to thank for that.” A hint of a sigh was laced within his words.
Quinton blinked, not understanding what Siles truly meant. He threw a peculiar look at Siles, then shook his head, quickening his pace to catch up with Chester and Alva.
He called out, “I think you must be starving, Professor Noel. Come along and get some food.”
Siles: “…”
He stood in place, silent for a brief moment, before ultimately letting out a helpless laugh.
He suddenly realized that he had actually spent an entire afternoon enjoying the journey while conversing merrily with friends. He hadn’t noticed the passage of time, yet at this moment, he suddenly realized how delightful those slipped hours had been.
Whether it was the lively Alva, the gentle Chester, or the uniquely eccentric and stubborn Quinton, they had all become precious snapshots of his journey, frozen alongside him within the splashes of the river of time.
He turned his head to look at the world outside the train window—the rolling wasteland, the desolate horizon. Ahead lay land he had yet to set foot upon, but behind him, traces of his passage were already scattered everywhere.
A moment later, Siles—or rather, He Jiayin at this moment—murmured softly, “This ought to be my world too, shouldn’t it?”
