Chapter 1167: Its Name

Lightning once again illuminated the desolate plain shrouded in grayish-yellow mist, illuminating the site where an Angel-level battle had just taken place, illuminating the calm smile on Klein's face.

Amon stared at him for several seconds, adjusted his monocle, and said with a smile: "Can't you come up with something different?

"It seems you've found new hope once again?"

Klein's smile didn't change. He pressed his fist against the tip of his nose, one hand in his pocket, and said: "I just suddenly figured something out. The fact that the one playing this game is your true body is not despairing at all — quite the opposite. It proves that you have no way of directly stealing away my destiny."

"Oh?" Amon let out an amused interjection, seemingly quite eager to hear what Klein would say next.

Klein chuckled, and said without the slightest tremor of resolve: "Otherwise, the moment I entered the Forsaken Land of the Gods, you would have directly stolen away my destiny and become the new master of the 'Sourceland.' Even if you wanted to play a game of escape and interception, you could have waited until your main objective was achieved before doing so. That way, you would bear no risk whatsoever, while I would have lost my chance at resurrection, lost my original destiny, and under the drive of the instinct to survive, would have tried even harder to escape.

"True, the 'God of Mischief' might do something reckless in pursuit of thrills, but you are also the 'God of Fraud.'"

At this point, Klein glanced at Amon's expression, which had not changed in the slightest, paused briefly, and continued: "I know you genuinely possess the Beyonder power to steal another's destiny, but being able to do something doesn't mean you will do it. It requires weighing risks, balancing pros and cons, analyzing gains and losses.

"I believe you don't want to simply steal away my destiny, because that would make you bear everything that comes with the 'Sourceland,' including having to contend with the shadow of its original master's resurrection. Even for a King of Angels like you, this is exceedingly dangerous — a single misstep and you could be annihilated. That's why you want to find a loophole, one that lets you obtain the 'Sourceland' without bearing its negative consequences. And for that, you need my 'consent.'"

As he spoke these words, Klein's mind drifted to the experiences from his previous life of catching computer viruses several times — how those viruses would always disguise themselves as something normal, deceiving you into clicking "allow."

It bore a strange resemblance to the current situation.

After hearing Klein's words, Amon looked at him without speaking, simply adjusting his crystal-carved monocle with a calm expression.

Klein's smile deepened as he continued: "From the moment you 'parasitized' me, you've been running an elaborate fraud. On one hand, you offered me the option of becoming your vassal; on the other, you told me that your true body could withstand my destiny, burdening me with crushing psychological pressure.

"During the journey that followed, you constantly let me see hope, then constantly destroyed it. From time to time, you imposed time limits, making me instinctively seize every chance to catch my breath, only to abruptly shorten the distance, throwing my plans into disarray. Finally, you revealed the card that you yourself were the true body, casting me into the abyss of despair — all to destroy my will, shatter my psychological defenses, make me completely collapse, and choose to become your vassal, to 'agree' to that potential 'transaction.'"

Amon listened quietly, then suddenly laughed, raised both hands, and applauded softly: "A flawless deduction.

"However, you seem to have overlooked one issue.

"What I said was: meet my true body, go to a place that is sufficiently safe, and only then take away your destiny. Right now, we haven't yet arrived at the final destination, so of course I wouldn't risk attempting it."

Klein's expression sank slightly, then quickly relaxed again: "I'm quite looking forward to what will be different there."

He responded to Amon's words with Amon's mannerisms.

The real Angel King adjusted his monocle and pointed to the side with a smile: "Almost there. We'll arrive in less than half a day."

"How long exactly?" Klein instinctively distrusted the vague descriptions from Amon.

Amon scratched his chin and chuckled: "Half an hour."

Klein turned his head to look in the direction Amon had just pointed, but all he saw was deep, impenetrable darkness.

A bolt of lightning streaked across, illuminating the desolate plain, but in the distance, the grey-yellow haze was even denser.

…………

Backlund, the Queen's District, inside the luxurious villa of Count Hall.

After two days of chaos, Audrey's life had finally returned to some semblance of calm, which only deepened her curiosity about the hidden truth behind the king's assassination.

Considering that Mr. Fool seemed to have hinted that today's Tarot Club meeting might be cancelled, Audrey decided to pray to this existence in advance, to make contact with "The World" Gehrman Sparrow and try to figure out what was going on.

She merely glanced at Susie, and the golden retriever immediately left the room, casually closing the door behind her, then settled down outside.

Audrey sat down with practiced ease, assumed the posture of prayer, and chanted softly in Ancient Hermes: "The Fool, who does not belong to this age..."

…………

Backlund, the East End, inside a two-bedroom rental apartment.

"Do you think there'll be a gathering today? There wasn't any formal notice..." Fors took out her ladies' pocket watch, pressed it open, and glanced at it.

Xiu shook her head: "I don't know."

Fors was getting restless. She left her seat and paced back and forth with visible agitation, muttering to herself: "Mr. World hasn't responded, and Mr. Fool hasn't given any reply either..."

As she spoke, Fors suddenly turned to look at her friend, who was eating ham, and blurted out urgently: