From the Ship of Fools to Earl of Wugang

On the second floor of "Extreme Corner," the afternoon sunlight slanted in through the gaps in the blinds, casting a warm yellow glare on some of the monitors.

Edmund sat at the furthest corner computer, and it took him a lot of effort to log into a BBS he had heard of but never used.

This time, he visited a BBS called "The Alchemist's Cauldron," another extraordinary underground network node that he had noted down during his time with the Order.

After nearly two hours of intense work, I finally logged into the forum interface, which was much simpler than "Golden Dome." The plain text layout paired with the crucible pattern spelled out in characters was quite ugly.

Of course, this simple appearance shows that its users don't care about the packaging, but rather about the content itself.

The forum is divided into several sections: "Announcement Board", "Q&A", "Materials Market", "Dream Diary", and "Coffee Room".

The bulletin board mainly contained forum rules, but a bolded pinned post caught his attention:

[WARNING: Massive insomnia has been reported in several coastal towns in southern Veridis, suspected to be related to infiltration by the Dream Realm. Those with supernatural abilities in the affected areas are advised to strengthen their mental defenses and avoid falling asleep unprotected.]

The post was made four days ago and was signed "The Night Watchman of the Silver Cross".

The word Silver Cross brought to Edmund’s mind the image of Farian Madeleine, whose forum had a “Silver Cross Laity Society” background.

He scrolled through several pages of posts under the announcement and noticed an inconspicuous reply:

"I heard that the Ninth Bureau has recently increased its manpower along the southern coast, seemingly investigating something. Everyone should be careful when trading recently."

The Ninth Bureau—Edmund wasn't surprised to see this name. Complaints from some members during his time with the Order had made him aware that it was the official supernatural agency of the Federal Republic.

Having noted this information, Edmund then browsed other sections.

The Q&A section was mostly paid, so Edmund first browsed the "Materials Marketplace" section.

[Selling various secret potions including "Mist Dance Steps," quality guaranteed. Face-to-face transaction at Saint-Simon store. Contact information is encrypted and attached.]

[We offer crafting services for extraordinary equipment and concoctions of secret medicines. In-person meetings are available in Flamingo City.]

[Green Lake City is buying unicorn tail feathers, no quantity limit, preferential prices.]

......

Edmund noted down the second one—Flamingo City, which happened to be his destination.

After browsing through the posts, he clicked on the "Dream Diary" section, where most posts were freely accessible.

[People in Gulfstream City should be aware that a planetary shift seems to have created significant spiritual disturbances there, releasing many spiritual beings.]

[Is this yet another large-scale spiritual tide fluctuation?]

[The Ninth Infantry just dealt with a Riogal near Gulfstream City, allowing shops and bars to reopen.]

[Unfortunately, given the Ninth Institution's style, they should have driven away that "Riegler," as its tentacles are very useful to me.]

......

Edmund's gaze lingered on the third option for a moment. It seemed to describe Willow Harbor Town.

He remembered the poster's ID and then moved on to the "Coffee Room" section.

This section is mostly for sharing interesting stories I know, while more in-depth content has been moved to the "Q&A Knowledge" section.

Although I don't lack money at the moment, I lack suitable payment methods, so I need to postpone my attempt to acquire some basic knowledge from it.

After browsing briefly, he logged out and cleared his history, then disconnected completely.

When I came out of the internet cafe, the sun was already setting in the west, and the buildings on Belmont Avenue were tinged with an orange-red hue.

Edmund walked back to the hotel and, upon returning to his room, saw several neatly stacked parcels of clothing wrapped in kraft paper on the table, along with a handwritten delivery list from a shop assistant.

After checking the package and confirming that the clothes were ready, he took out the new clothes one by one and packed them into his luggage along with the items he had previously purchased.

He then took out the Veridia M10 revolver, checked the magazine, and put it away after confirming that there was enough ammunition.

The gun was his last resort, and he hoped he would never have to use it.

After a somewhat restrained dinner at the hotel restaurant, dusk receded from the streets, and the neon lights of Bayview began to illuminate the night.

Edmund checked out with his luggage, hailed a taxi at the hotel entrance, and headed to the train station.

Bayview Central Station is an elegant marble building, and the waiting hall under the dome appears empty and desolate at night.

The stained glass windows on the dome cast mottled patches of color under the lights, which fell on the sparse rows of waiting seats.

Edmund bought a sleeper ticket for the night train to Flamingo at the ticket window, expecting to arrive the following morning.

Trains are a compromise, and most passengers on overnight trains are asleep and unlikely to notice their fellow passengers.

The staff at the ticket gate glanced at his ticket and fake driver's license, then waved him through.

Edmund found his carriage on the platform and boarded the train using the narrow metal steps.

The hard sleeper carriage is divided into several semi-open compartments, with six berths in each compartment.

The smell inside the carriage wasn't pleasant, but Edmund's upper bunk offered a view of the outside through the gaps in the curtains.

With a long whistle, the train slowly started moving.

The platform lights began to slide backward, then the dome of the waiting hall, then the buildings surrounding the train station; everything began to recede into the past.

After the train left the city, the scenery outside the window changed dramatically; the city lights seemed to be gradually extinguished by an invisible hand.

First came the dense neon lights and streetlights, then the scattered windows of suburban houses, and finally only the occasional railway signal lights flashing by—green and red, disappearing into the vast, lightless depths of darkness.

Edmund lay on his side on his bunk, pulled back a corner of the curtain, and gazed at the scenery rushing past outside the window.

Under the moonlight, the distant view is the outline of undulating hills, while a field or a grove of trees occasionally flashes by nearby.

For a short while, the railway tracks followed the coastline, and suddenly the view outside the window opened up. The grey-blue sea shimmered in the moonlight, merging seamlessly with the low-hanging sky.

He found himself unconsciously recalling the dreams he had seen on the Ship of Fools, and then half-forcefully pushing those images back into the depths of his memory.

The carriage swayed rhythmically at the joints of the rails, the sound of the wheels hitting the rails creating a monotonous and hypnotic cadence.

Edmund felt a gentle loneliness welling up from somewhere, a feeling he hadn't experienced when he was surrounded by a group of madmen and nuns on the Ship of Fools.

At this moment, a soul from another world, using a face and identity that are not his own, travels to a city he has never set foot in, to meet a stranger he has only communicated with online.

Perhaps it should also include Mr. Lane Hall, who remains unresolved in his mind.

Of course, Edmund's next plan obviously could not be shared with Mr. Lane Hall—it involved the Order's millions, even tens of millions, of Veridian dollars.