Mystery: Starting from the Shadow World

Chapter 85 Azik Eggers

In the morning, Philip, wearing a dirty and wrinkled white shirt, struggled to climb out of the basement, looking completely exhausted and satisfied after playing games all night.

Philip's hands fell limply to his sides, and the thick hemp ropes that had been wrapped around him, now untied, fell straight to the floor.

He leaned against the wall, forced a smile, and muttered to himself:

"all the best"

Thud!

The moment he finished speaking, Philip's mind went blank, his legs went weak and his knees buckled forward, causing him to kneel on the ground and, due to inertia, fall face-first onto the floor.

Uh, Philip was out of strength. He tried to struggle, but found that his current limit was that he could only put his fingers on the old, tattered rope with tear marks.

Seeing this, he could only rely on the discomfort of his face touching the ground to force himself to use the last of his strength to turn over and face the ceiling before he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

The method Philip used yesterday was inspired by many fictional works from before his time travel. Novels, movies, and even anime have all created works featuring werewolves and full moons, and they are basically all cut from the same mold.

After careful consideration, he decided to take the risk of using this method: without using the "Mind's Eye" or the embers, he would lock himself in a small basement, bind his body with rope, and resist the craving for flesh and blood purely with his willpower.

It turned out to be a success!

The remarkable progress in digesting the "Werewolf" potion proved this point, even giving Philip the illusion that the only rule of the temperance faction was actually this one.

Well, maybe it's not just my imagination.

If he just perseveres, after two full moons, or at most three full moons, the "Werewolf" potion will be completely digested. If there is a blood moon, it will be even faster. Philip's eyelids gradually closed, and drowsiness overwhelmed his mind. Soon, his consciousness subsided.

December 1, 1349, morning.

Inside a restaurant in the East Bayern style.

Philip took out the dining table, wiped his mouth, and then took out the book he had just bought at the bookstore—his novel that had finally been published.

Sherlock

As she was leaving in the morning, her neighbor, Miss Fors, specifically reminded her of this good thing and even showed her the book she had already bought to show her support for her neighbor and younger generation.

Philip was naturally curious about what it would be like for others to read his novel after it was published, so he took a carriage to the bookstore to buy it and then found a decent-looking restaurant nearby to have breakfast.

Just as she opened the book, intending to objectively appreciate the great work she had described, she suddenly heard a man's voice, a mixture of hesitation and certainty:

"Good morning, miss."

Philip turned his head and saw that a middle-aged man of medium build, with bronze skin and soft features had appeared beside him.

The other person's black hair and brown eyes immediately reminded Philip of his long-lost fellow townsman, Klein. The unnatural depth of world-weariness in his eyes drew her attention. "Hello, is there anything I can help you with?"

"My name is Azik Eggers."

After introducing himself, the middle-aged man narrowed his eyes slightly before continuing, "One of my students might know you; he graduated from the history department at Hoy University."

Hoy University, History Department?

Philip instantly guessed who the other person was talking about. His eyes trembled slightly, revealing a hint of shock, which did not escape Azik's terrifyingly sharp observation.

Seeing this, the middle-aged man's expression returned to normal. He lowered the brim of his hat and continued, "You seem to have used the effect of an extraordinary item. It looks like you don't need my help for the time being."

Philip glanced around nervously, noticing the scattered customers in the restaurant, and uttered a name:

"Klein?"

"Yes." Azik nodded. "Before I came to Backlund, he hoped that I would keep an eye on the Rose School's movements if possible, because one of his important friends seemed to be a very important target of this organization."

"I see." Philip's lips curled up slightly as he offered, "Mr. Azik, would you like to sit down and have something to eat? I'll pay for it, um, as payment for asking me some questions later."

The middle-aged man remained silent for a few seconds, his eyes seemingly glancing at other people's tables. Although he quickly suppressed the upward curve of his lips, it visibly subsided.

"Alright."

Although he had questions to ask, Philip hesitated because of the taciturn and unfathomable aura that Azik, Klein's teacher, exuded. He could only take a sip of "Guadal" every now and then to ease the awkwardness.

After the other party suggested that he not be so reserved, Philip finally mustered up some courage and asked, "Mr. Azik, how did you find out my identity?"

She carefully recalled and compared the information in her mind, and found that if it was someone she had never met, or even a low-to-medium sequence extraordinary person, they should not be able to connect her to Philip based on mere observation.

"Hmm," Azik had clearly anticipated this question, but even so, he frowned and hesitated for two seconds before speaking, "I can't quite express it accurately."

Philip nodded, not pressing further, and instead said, "Did anything else dangerous or strange happen in Tingen during this time? Um, something worth mentioning to you, Klein."

Not a single mistake, not a single poem, not a single post, not a single piece of content, not a single look!

Upon hearing this, Azik fell silent again, and after a long while, he slowly spoke, telling Philip about how Klein's fate had been guided, but to be on the safe side, he didn't say much about himself.

Destiny is guided.

Philip's hand, holding the cup, hovered in mid-air as memories of his time in Tingen flashed through his mind, and he suddenly understood everything.

Azik politely remained silent, waiting for Philip to come to his senses. But Philip simply took a small sip of the orange-yellow drink in his glass, his expression returning to calm: "It seems there's a slight possibility that it's 0-08, the level 0 sealed artifact stolen by Ince Zangwell."

"0–08, Ince Zangwell?"

Azik frowned slightly, not hiding his doubts. "I seem to remember the former; I feel like I've heard it somewhere before. Excuse me, could you tell me more about it?"

"Well, this is just speculation, my opinion. Because the information I have is too limited, I can't speculate carefully at all, so I can only use my imagination to think wildly."

Philip held the cup in both hands, glanced around again to make sure the conversation hadn't attracted anyone's attention, and then, though puzzled, spoke in a low voice:

"The appearance of '0-08' is that of a common quill pen, but it can write without ink. I don't know its specific abilities, but since it can be classified as a Level 0 sealed artifact, perhaps its effect is to create coincidences and guide destiny?"

Level 2 sealed artifacts are already at the mid-series level, so Level 1 must correspond to the high-series. Therefore, the Level 0 sealed artifacts on the internet might really be something that overpowered.

"But I can't think of any reason why he's staying in Tingen, so just take it as me talking nonsense."

After all, he couldn't very well say that he read too many online novels and anime, and that the quill pen used to write things down would definitely be published, which has appeared in countless virtual works.

(End of this chapter)