Chapter 197: The Fleeting Sweetness

In the northern field of eastern Ciradyl, both Zhuo and Lin took a rented house to live there.

Today, they were outside in the marketplace. Lin wandered around and stopped near a bustling row of street vendors whose canvas awnings flapped gently against the chilly autumn wind.

Zhuo pulled his coat tighter, his young face bearing a solemnity that belonged to someone much older. Survival in a world teetering on spiritual collapse had stolen much of his youth, but standing next to Lin, he looked remarkably like a boy just trying to keep up with his older sister.

After the Descent to Ordinal Six, he was constantly witnessing the motion streaks of every single movement.

Suddenly, his eyes twitched as he saw the thin motion streaks of dust particles, his Arbiter eyes opening without permission. He closed his eyes, rubbed them a few times, and adjusted his vision again.

Lin turned to him, her eyes softening. To the city, she was the former queen of Ciradyl — a figure of hidden authority and dangerous grace. To Zhuo, she was the steady anchor that kept him grounded in a world veiled by cosmic madness.

"You’ve been tensing your shoulders since we left the house, Zhuo." Lin called out.

She stopped before a wooden cart packed with insulated barrels of crushed rock salt and ice. A hand-painted sign proudly advertised Fancy Ices. The vendor, a man in a stained canvas apron, was actively turning a heavy crank, the fiction creating a churning sound.

"Two cornets." Lin ordered, placing a few copper coins onto the wooden counter.

The vendor nodded briskly. Instead of using the cheap glass ’penny licks’ that the lower-class factory workers commonly ate, he pulled out two freshly baked wafer cones — a modern luxury that resembled the famous Agnes Marshall recipes sweeping through the high-class districts. With a brass scoop, he packed the wafers with a rich, pale yellow cream.

Lin handed one to Zhuo. "Have it. One more thing..."

Zhuo blinked, looking down at the frozen treat in his hand. It was flavored with sweet vanilla, even though at the time of Autumn it might not have been a great choice. He took a hesitant bite. The intense cold burst against his tongue, followed immediately by a creamy taste.

"Yes." Zhuo muttered with a small smile breaking through his guarded expression. After all of those rituals, descents, and behind that exterior of Ascended, he was still a teenager who loved ice-creams — even if it could freeze him in the cold time.

Lin looked at the bag in Zhuo’s hand, that he had been hiding for a long time. She took a delicate bite of her own cone and looked out over the crowded market, her gaze sweeping past the local merchants and the gas lamps. For a few minutes, the weight of her loss and the duties didn’t matter. Here, under the pale afternoon sun, they were simply two siblings sharing a luxury on a cold day.

She reached out, using the edge of her thumb to wipe a smudge of cream from Zhuo’s cheek, just as an older sister would. "Come. Let us buy the rest of the bread and tea leaves, then you can tell me... what are you hiding in that bag?"

Zhuo flinched, the cone almost slipping from his hand as he glanced at his bag that had the artifact for his anchor. The Bell of Catalyst was given to him by Mr. Courage. Of course, he couldn’t tell her anything about the secret organization of Mr. Mysteries.

It was prohibited to talk about it outside the Lenormand Club.

At the same time, he couldn’t simply hide such an enormous truth from her, but at that moment, he knew very well that following the Cosmic Jester’s words was the right thing...

"It’s just... some trinkets I found near the old tracks." Zhuo lied and darted his eyes around the cobblestones. His Arbiter eyes throbbed behind his eyelids, the lingering motion streaks of a passing stray cat flickering in his peripheral vision like ghostly afterimages.

Lin didn’t attempt to ask anything further, though her eyes lingered on the bag for a moment. Of course, she knew that it was a lie, practically a terrible one because of her ability to sense presence. She knew the boy was harboring secrets — well, everyone in this twisted era was — but as long as he remained anchored to his humanity, she would grant him his space.

They turned the corner into a narrower alleyway where the market’s warmth quickly gave way to the damp, industrial chill of Ciradyl’s underbelly. The walls here were plastered with overlapping sheets of cheap newsprint, some theatrical advertisements, and official government decrees, all peeling from the morning moisture.

It seemed like a place for the common news to reach the people throughout the streets, but it was also a place where criminals easily got the information they needed.

As Lin bargained with a grim-faced baker for a loaf of rye bread, Zhuo stood by a soot-stained brick pillar, finishing the last of his vanilla cornet.

His gaze stopped near a freshly pasted poster. The ink seemed expensive, unusual for a standard criminal bounty. The most important thing that caught his attention was the image... a sketch that was already unusual for this time period, that was a lot more expensive to use for a simple pickpocket or an average criminal.

At the top, bold block letters stated:

[WANTED BY THE WORLD CONGRESS AND THE CENTRAL GOVERNMENT OF CIRADYL.]

He focused deeply and walked forward to see. Beneath the header was a stylized sketch of a man. The artist had captured a pair of wildly manic eyes beneath the shadow of a tilted fedora, a small lunatic grin that looked entirely devoid of sanity, and a disheveled coat.

The name printed below was Murphy Law. The Arbiter vision involuntarily flared, tracing the motion streaks left by the ink strokes of the sketch. ’It’s him.’ He instantly recognized the man in the image, his mind instantly racing back to that day when they had lost all their money in the lower districts.

The strange, lunatic detective who acted like a gentleman ultimately bought them train tickets and food when no one else would look their way. To Zhuo, Murphy Law was a bizarre, eccentric stranger who possessed a twisted streak of kindness, but certainly to him he was a great man.

Finally, he looked at the text beneath the portrait, where it was painted an entirely different but terrifying picture, stating the price.

BOUNTY: 20000 GOLD POUNDS (DEAD OR ALIVE)

Alternatively redeemable through the Central Government Secret Treasury for one (1) Grade-2 Sealed Artifact and a reward.

Charges of the wanted man:

1: Wiped out a cult and their royal members.

2: Killed the Emerald town’s chief and his wife.

3: Guilty of fraudulent and financial fraud in the Pacian bank, bringing a mass chaos throughout the bank that caused the economy to almost fail.

4: Stole the liquid cash of Herbius Company, causing it to shut down.

5: Killed Asterion and 60 cultists that caused the entire world economy to shift due to his businesses falling apart.

6: A group of pirates found dead, description matched to him, a suspect of that incident.

Zhuo’s eyes widened as he skimmed the listed charges. The text detailed a trail of absolute devastation across the continent: the systematic assassination of multiple high-ranking royals, the slaughter of pirate captains in the northern seas, massive financial fraud that collapsed three major trading houses, and the deliberate destabilization of regional banking systems.

Such charges... and that amount of money... if any local Ascenders or any high Ordinal Ascenders or any organization saw this, then they’d hunt him down in every corner of the world for that money.

Lin bought the food and turned toward Zhuo, the paper-wrapped loaf of rye bread tucked securely under her arm. Finally, she noticed his rigidity instantly. Zhuo was staring at the soot-stained brick pillar, his shoulders locked tightly as his hand stopped.

"What are you staring at?"

Zhuo snapped out of his trance. His Arbiter vision forcibly shut down, leaving his eyes burning slightly behind his lids. He quickly turned his back to the poster, trying to shield it with his body.

Lin’s eyes shifted past his shoulder, locking onto the expensive, freshly inked paper and the manic, wide-eyed sketch of Murphy Law.

She walked over, her boots clicking softly against the uneven stones. She stood right beside him and scanned the texts, reading the bounty of 20,000 gold pounds and the staggering list of high-profile assassinations and economic sabotage. Charges were so extreme that they couldn’t be justified, which she understood very well.

Zhuo watched her face anxiously. He knew Lin’s sensory abilities were far superior to his; he couldn’t hide anything from her.

"Twenty thousand gold pounds..." Lin murmured softly, her expression remaining entirely unreadable. "And a Grade-2 Sealed Artifact. The Central Government must be truly terrified of this man to offer a reward that could fund a small army. I cannot tell whether these charges are true or even if they are, then are they truly morally right?"

Zhuo exhaled a long sigh and asked. "Can it be that he killed that demonic cult and royals? You know the incident in Clockwork City."

Lin’s eyes suddenly widened as she recalled the memories of her time in this kingdom. That cult, which she previously killed, had escaped, but in the present time, after nearly two years, was wiped out by a single man... They were royals; it wasn’t an easy task to find them.

"His judgment might not be wrong because of the mass murders they had committed... but eventually you can’t reason with morality when your actions are themselves incorrect in others’ eyes. Because of this... every mid- to high-ordinal ascender may go to hunt him."