“Your butler might be studying black magic;
“Your valet secretly worships Death;
“Among your neighbors are people with supernatural powers;
“There may be secrets in this neighborhood that make people have strange dreams…
“You should understand the meaning of certain words, so we won't explain too much. May the Goddess bless you.”
…Klein looked at the letter in his hand and didn't know whether to cry or laugh.
After a few seconds, he couldn’t help but laugh at himself:
Judging from the letter alone, I’m really in a pathetic state…
And the things it describes don’t seem to be wrong either…
Smiling and shaking his head, Klein held the letter in one hand and suddenly flicked it to the side.
Crimson flames instantly rose, engulfing the paper.
Anyway, Miss Xio and Miss Magician are quite kind. The only problem is that the things they warned me about, I already know, and I know the details better than them... Klein muttered as he retrieved the mushrooms he had hidden earlier.
There were four types in total. The first was a dried product that reacted with water and fish—there were three of them. The second was a new variety with golden caps that emitted a floury fragrance. The third had a white base dotted with black spots, looked plump and swollen, seemed to have liquid flowing inside, and had a strong milky smell. The fourth had strange gill-like organs on both sides, and its surface covered in fine but soft scales.
Klein glanced at these mushrooms, took out a gold coin, tossed it up, and caught it firmly.
After confirming the result, he removed the ordinary gloves he was wearing and directly picked up the three new varieties with his bare skin, trying to verify some situations that Frank Lee hadn't mentioned.
The touch was normal, and the mushrooms didn't change at all. Klein heaved a sigh of relief, no longer worrying that their danger level exceeded the forbidden line.
He had been quite afraid that once these mushrooms came into contact with something of flesh and blood, they would immediately extend roots, devour, grow, and spread spores.
“Maybe it’s because the gas wall lamp is too bright, or maybe after being picked, these mushrooms have lost most of their activity and require special conditions to revive, like the stomach environment of a living being…” In the spirit of empirical verification, Klein closed all the heavy curtains in the master bedroom and turned off all the gas wall lamps.
Then, he once again picked up the new mushrooms with his bare hands, confirming that there was nothing unusual and that they didn’t absorb his own flesh and blood.
After doing this, Klein relit the wall lamps, set up a ritual, and sacrificed the mushrooms above the Gray Fog.
Sitting in the Fool’s seat, he didn’t rush to summon Creeping Hunger. First, he made the metal bottle containing his own blood fly to the long bronze table.
Immediately after, he poured a drop of blood onto the table and pushed the three new mushrooms over to it.
In just a second, the parts of the mushrooms near the blood suddenly softened and squirmed to wrap around it, with dense needle-like hairs growing at the contact surface.
“……” Klein watched with a twitch at the corner of his mouth. He directly mobilized a little power of the mysterious space above the Gray Fog, suppressed all the mushrooms, then made the drop of blood fly back into the metal bottle and closed the lid.
He had roughly understood the characteristics of these mushrooms. No longer wasting time, he waved his hand, and Creeping Hunger flew over from the pile of odds and ends.
Taking hold of the thin human-skin glove, Klein placed it on the table and lifted the suppression on the mushrooms.
Then, he saw Creeping Hunger use its five fingers for support, forcibly stand up, and quickly move back like playing the piano.
Scared now, huh? Klein put on a friendly smile, pressed the human-skin glove under his palm, and "gifted" it a little power of the mysterious space above the Gray Fog.
Then, with his other hand, he grabbed a mushroom and brought it toward Creeping Hunger.
The human-skin glove struggled desperately but couldn’t get free, and it even started to tremble noticeably.
Klein paused the hand holding the mushroom and laughed softly:
“Still praising the True Creator at any moment?”
Creeping Hunger continued struggling and didn’t respond.
Klein thought for a moment and conceded:
“I’ll allow you to praise once a day, in the morning or evening.”
Creeping Hunger’s struggle weakened but didn’t stop.
Tsk... Klein maintained an expressionless face and continued:
“Then three times a day, according to the times for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, but you have to remind me in advance.”