Chapter 2

"This kind of will and request sounds off from the start."

On the bed, Shade, whose hand was being held, showed little expression on his face. However, he clearly knew that the detective had accurately predicted his death and, before dying, took in a homeless man with a not-so-bright mind, leaving all his wealth behind for a seemingly simple request. If this simple request were truly simple, it wouldn't be so complicated.

The other party was probably more than just a detective, but Shade, who now occupied a new body, was not the original person. Even if the original Shade didn't know the truth, the current visitor from another place understood that he shouldn't easily get involved in something that sounded off from the start, or else...

"If you don't agree, I can assure you that after I die, you won't get a single penny from me. Everything here will not belong to you. You will become a homeless man again, without gas lamps, without a fireplace, without three meals a day, and even without a bed. You will return to your original life."

But Shade had to agree; he had nothing in this world. Compared to becoming a homeless man and starting over, getting involved in a troublesome matter but gaining wealth, Shade knew both choices were bad, but he had to make one.

Moreover, since he was already standing here and had heard these words, he was already involved, so it was impossible to back out. Shade knew how to assess the situation and weigh his own circumstances.

"Just, is Mr. Sparrow Hamilton's death related to the supernatural? Is it related to the voice in my head?"

He thought, but couldn't draw a more detailed conclusion. Unexpectedly, the voice in his head spoke again:

"It is related to the supernatural. He died because of a [Relic]. This has nothing to do with you."

The voice was still so elegant and composed. Even though the information was brief, the murmuring voice still sounded like reciting poetry.

"[Relic]?"

In the ancient and elegant language used by the woman, this was a specialized term. Different languages carry different amounts of information, and in the language used by the woman, this specialized term carried a great deal of information, meaning "sealed object," "contained object," "cursed object," and so on.

Shade was glad he could understand this language. From the vocabulary, he read the meaning "special item, capable of exercising supernatural power, but extremely dangerous."

This made Shade have a rather ominous guess about this world.

"Then, who are you?"

The voice didn't explain the term, so Shade asked in his mind. From the other party's response to his questions, he understood that the other party was also a thinking individual.

"I am you."

The murmuring voice softly answered, and the whispering method made Shade's back hair stand on end.

But Shade lightly hummed. He was certain this body was male, and the voice in his head couldn't be the original owner.

Looking at the light from the bedside lamp illuminating the man's terrifying, inactive skin on the bed, Shade said to him:

"I understand, sir."

"Shade, I have ten minutes left to live. If you have any more questions, ask them now."

The other party said something significant, his tone filled with fatigue. But Shade knew that if what the other party said was entirely correct, the next questions would be crucial for his survival in this world, and he had to be cautious:

"Your death seems abnormal."

The voice he used to speak was slow, pretending to be not very bright. This way of speaking was quite exhausting. The first question was about his situation after the other party's death. Shade had to ensure that the cause of the detective's death wouldn't implicate him.

"In the past, we indeed never discussed this. I know you have been worried about it, but you don't need to. My death might scare you, but you don't need to worry. My death won't affect you. I need you to complete a task three months from now, so I can guarantee this. The person who killed me will not appear again. After all, we ordinary people are not worth their attention."

The information was quite good, and the man on the bed didn't intend to hide anything.

"Ordinary people?"

Shade was genuinely hesitant this time.

"You don't need to know. Even I don't fully understand. Those ringers, who wield [Miracles], [Inspiration], [Blasphemy], and [Whispers], the five major orthodox churches, and the three major ringer academies—forget what I just said, and you will live better. Remember, you know nothing."

The man on the bed emphasized, and Shade could only remember these terms and nod:

"Alright, I know nothing."

He guessed that "ringers" were the term for mystics in this world, and [Miracles], [Inspiration], [Blasphemy], and [Whispers] were part of the power system. The orthodox churches and ringer academies were the main mystical forces.

An ordinary detective couldn't know so much, and Detective Hamilton had many secrets.

But Shade didn't continue to ask about this topic. He had to make the other party willing to share more information within the limited time, rather than trying to find lies and truths through mutual suspicion:

"What will I do after you die? I don't understand detective work, and I can't read much."

Despite the urgency, he couldn't speak faster. Not only because of the pretense, but also because Shade wasn't yet proficient in this language. This situation, where he could only walk in a race, made him quite anxious. But he couldn't show his anxiety, so he was even more anxious inside.

"Don't worry. Following what I taught you is enough. You only need to stay here for three months. After three months, sell everything and go live in the countryside. It's more suitable for you and will allow you to live a peaceful life—after all, the cost of living is lower there."

The man on the bed seemed to really have no strength left and didn't say more. But Shade had no memory of the past and didn't know what the other party had taught him. He sought help from the voice in his head, but the voice didn't appear.

"Is there anything else you need to tell me?"

Shade asked for the third time, a question he had thought through carefully.

"Remember what I told you over these three months; remember the simple commission I left in the memo, which you can try to do to maintain the detective agency's operation; and, this card in the diary."

The weakened man pointed to the bedside, released Shade's hand, and Shade bent down to pick up the diary. The brown leather cover was fastened with a magnetic clasp, and the diary was well-protected by its user.

Shade handed the diary to Mr. Hamilton on the bed, but the latter shook his head, almost unable to speak.

So, Shade opened the diary himself, flipping through it roughly. Each page had a different continuous date, and both sides were used. Most pages only had one sentence: "Nothing happened today, savings are running low," while a few recorded the progress of the agency's commissions.

Flipping to the middle of the diary, the pages stopped with a rustle, and a hard card was inserted there. Shade controlled himself not to raise his eyebrows, seeing that it was a rectangular card smaller than his palm.

Taking it out, he felt the card's surface was like a completely transparent layer of wax, protecting the card from environmental damage. But upon closer inspection, it felt more like a transparent layer of skin, and Shade suddenly thought of human skin for some reason.

The card wasn't thick, and with the room's lighting, he could see it clearly.

What Shade considered the back side had abstract patterns of the sun, moon, and stars, forming a strange combination. What he considered the front side showed a woman sitting sideways on a high stool, her head turned, and her hand supporting the moon.

She had silver hair, a smiling side face, and wore a long robe. But the card's colors were not rich, only white, black, and cold tones near these two colors.

In the upper right corner of the front, there was a number 3, and in the upper left corner, a small sun symbol. Between them, in the center of the top of the card, a white circle with a black vertical line was drawn.

Below the woman's image, at the bottom of the front, there was a small line of text:

"When using this card, you can adjust the number within the range of 1 to 5."

The card didn't look very new. Looking at it from the side in the room's dim light, he could see slight damage, but it was clear that the owner had made great efforts to preserve it carefully.

Shade understood all the text on the card, just as he could understand the man and woman's speech.

"Strange, after crossing over, I can understand and read, but I can't speak."

He thought to himself and asked softly:

"What is this?"

"A very valuable card, compatible with the usual set of 54 ordinary cards. It is a [Sun 3] card from the four suits of sun, moon, stars, and flowers. But this card is a special issue, with rare patterns, making it very collectible. Keep it in the diary, don't let it get wet or folded, and don't show it to others easily. If you are really in dire straits, go to the Birmingham Collection in Tobask City. The people there know its value. The Rod card, my most important collection in my life."

Shade nodded, remembering the term "Rod card," understanding that it was a common card game in this world, and that the [Sun 3] card was similar to commemorative coins and stamps. He put the card back into the diary. Although the card was exquisite, based on the bedroom's decoration and the era's productivity, this world could produce such items, so there was no need for excessive suspicion.

"Sir, is there anything else you want to say?"

Shade asked again, now letting the other party speak voluntarily, which was better than asking questions himself.

"Shade."

Mr. Hamilton held Shade's hand again, his eyes looking at the young man by the bed, his gaze softer:

"I know I was never a good person, but I am really sorry for involving you. After three months, leave Tobask City. This capital city is not suitable for you.

But I think, if you can understand, you would also think that taking you out of the homeless life was the right choice. Your mind isn't very sharp, remember, don't easily trust others, especially those trying to get money from you. I have already contacted the Tobask Public Cemetery and chosen a grave. The undertakers will come soon, and you don't need to follow. Live in this house for three months according to the life skills I taught you.

Shade, I am really sorry. Good luck."