Spirituality

Here’s the chapter as promised. One day early because I actually had time to write, thankfully.

I’m going to try getting back to the old schedule of one chapter every 3–4 days at most, and if nothing comes up, I’ll even try to speed that up to every 2–3 days. I’ve been feeling pretty inspired lately.

I’ll reply to all the comments tomorrow, since I noticed there are around two chapters where I haven’t done that yet. I’m really sorry about that, I just haven’t had time for almost anything these past few weeks because of work.

If anyone wants to read 3/7/13 chapters ahead of my story or simply support me, that’s possible on my (P)(A)(T). If not, I still sincerely appreciate you reading. Thank you all very much!

That said, good night everyone, and enjoy the chapter!

(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori.

[...]---[...]

POV: Devas Asura

Refocusing entirely on my real self made me let out a sigh of relief.

Having my mind partially inside the Memory Image—even with the Shadow Puppet manifested within it, making the “image” not just an “image”—was uncomfortable.

The first thing I did after returning was close my eyes and inspect the inside of my soul, more specifically my spiritual energy and nightmare energy.

I already knew where I was, of course. Jinn had moved my body inside Proto-A, and we were flying somewhere over the sea near the coast.

She herself was beside me, sitting next to the bed I was lying on.

I gestured to her with my hand and murmured, “I’m fine, just give me a second,” both to her and to the stream. Then I focused on the changes that had occurred from visiting whatever world Mr. Fool belonged to.

I hadn’t gone there personally with my real body, but the Shadow Puppet was still me, even if it was far more attuned to spiritual energy and nightmare energy.

So even though I hadn’t adapted and acquired what normally would have happened if I had gone there myself, I had still received… something, so to speak.

I “looked” at the “brain” of my soul and noticed the changes instantly. It wasn’t something I needed to check my status on the stream to realize.

My spiritual energy had become denser and heavier, gaining a grayish, foggy coloration identical to that strange gray fog that hovered around the bronze table.

Yet at the same time, it felt far more illusory and deceptive.

The word “mystery” was the right one here. I knew that instinctively for some reason, almost like an insight born from my own spiritual energy.

My “spirituality”…

This “simple” change in my spiritual energy seemed to grant it a bizarre potential focused on concealment—something similar to, yet different from, what already existed in my nightmare energy—and distortion.

It was as if the boundaries between what was physical space and what was merely a concept had grown thinner. I felt that if I searched for them, I could find invisible “flaws” or “cracks” in the very logic of reality around me, even if only to a small degree.

My nightmare energy, on the other hand, had lost some of its raw, brutal aggression, gaining a more unpredictable and absurd presence.

The coloration of the nightmare energy had grown deeper, and the lake of black sludge seemed denser and more oily.

My Nightmares appeared more diffuse, as if they were no longer just “unreal” horrors born from a disturbed mind, but projections of something that had once existed and had become part of a memory I could reach into—like a fisherman plunging his hand into a river and pulling out a fish.

The “unreal” and the “illusory” had begun to lose much of their difference from “reality” and the “real.”

The very concept of my hallucinations had changed as well.

I could feel that now, if I wanted to trap someone in a nightmare, I wouldn’t need to dominate their mind alone; I could literally deceive the senses of their physical body, “stealing,” so to speak, their sense of direction or space, trapping them in what could best be described as an invisible labyrinth where there are no real doors to escape the unreal monsters.

I could make an illusion—or a mental wound inflicted within that illusion—manifest on the victim’s physical body through deception, grabbing hold of the “unreal” and “grafting,” “copying,” or creating a “door” for the wound to enter reality, swapping the logic of what was “unreal” with what was “real,” like some fucked-up magic trick.

It was confusing even to me; the logic entered levels of absurdity that made my head ache.

I had a vague impression that that world was insane on a stratospheric level. If this was what I managed to take away from going there only through the Shadow Puppet—breathing the remnants of that gray fog and being near Mr. Fool and that woman, Fors.

The Shadow Puppet was my shadow, the shadow of a human who was me, so it sought to imitate, copy, and adapt to humans. Without me there to copy, it copied the others around it—in this case Mr. Fool and Fors.

Their Beyonder path, or whatever the hell it was called—since I never got a very good explanation—must have those abilities.

Or maybe it was something from the fog—that would make sense too, considering how my nightmare energy was a byproduct of the Deerclops’ energy. Whatever that place was, something similar to what happened with the Deerclops’ “Pseudo-World” must have happened there.

My instincts had also become much sharper thanks to the change in my spiritual energy. It was because of that that I realized something was wrong with that “Mother” card.

There was something wrong with the “Moon” as well, of course. There was always something wrong with the damn moon for some reason, but it was only a fraction of what was wrong with the “Mother.”

I didn’t know what it was, didn’t know what it did, and given that Mr. Fool clearly didn’t notice it and didn’t seem to perceive anything wrong beyond my reaction, it didn’t seem like something that came from him.

On the contrary, the grayish spiritual energy I had brought back from there seemed to have a natural enmity toward it—an instinctive, absolute repulsion against that thing. Even though there wasn’t really a “thing” there, only an image, even the image itself seemed to be hated by the gray fog.

I also had no idea how it would affect me if I were to touch that “Mother” card—or rather, the idea of touching the “Mother” existing in my mind.

It didn’t seem like something immediate. If I had to describe it, it would be like lighting a bonfire in a dark forest: the act itself wasn’t dangerous, but what it would attract was.

Touching that “idea” and “image” would end up screwing me over in the future somehow. I just knew it.

Looking at that gentle, warm, maternal smile on the “Mother’s” face simply caused such a strong repulsion, such a disgusting sense of biological corruption in my humanity and newly acquired spirituality, that I genuinely felt like vomiting…

While inspecting my energies, I noticed something else as well.

Inside what was the “brain” of my soul—the core of my spiritual energy—there was something growing there. Not literally; it was more like the awakening of something that, while being mine, also wasn’t.

At the same time that it was something new, it was also something that had always been there.

My spirituality told me it was some kind of “consciousness.”

Or rather, a copy of the potential for a consciousness that existed at the root of the spiritual energy of that other world, strongly tied to that gray fog for some reason.

Three words—“deception,” “space,” and “change”—whispered in my ears whenever I tried to probe deeper.

Because my energy had copied the essence of that foggy domain, it had also copied the trigger for that consciousness that existed dormant there. However, since it wasn’t strictly the same energy as theirs, the consciousness wasn’t the same either, and my soul resolved this by creating something of its own.

To be completely honest, that place keeps seeming more and more terrifying…

I inspected the “consciousness” that was growing, being born, and at the same time awakening in the “brain” of my soul.

All three were happening simultaneously.

It was something new, since it was a copy created by me, but it felt old as well. Extremely old and ancient—so much so that the word elder would fit perfectly.

It didn’t seem dangerous—that was what my instincts and spirituality told me. I hesitated to say it was something beneficial; at the very least, it wasn’t bad.

Overall, it was something neutral, almost the way the Shadow Puppet was to me.

I prodded that consciousness for a while longer before leaving it aside. I kept part of my attention there, since I wasn’t stupid enough to leave something like that unsupervised.

If anything happened, I would crush it that very second with my own consciousness, with Excalibur Asura, or with my title. But for now, I saw no reason not to leave it there and see what would come of this “consciousness” that was awakening.

After making a second sweep through the entire “interior” of my body and soul, I checked my status to make sure nothing was out of order, especially regarding that “consciousness.”

Again, I wasn’t an idiot.

It said—repeating the exact words: “A copy of a consciousness, created by the soul of the one known as ‘The Streamer,’ using the idea of the ‘Nameless Foreign World’ as a vessel. Adapted from a historical projection of a fragment of a distant memory belonging to an ancient and terrifying being.”

The idea of keeping that inside me wasn’t nearly as pleasant anymore, I’ll be honest.

But since that thing was “me,” just like the Shadow Puppet was also another “me,” I ended up leaving it there anyway.

I quickly checked the “void” in my left shoulder, arm, and eye, since the Shadow Puppet—part of my “defense”—had moved away from my body while I was at the table with Mr. Fool.

But the thing was just as it had been before, neither advancing nor receding. I grabbed the Shadow Puppet and wrapped it back around the “void” just to be sure.

Once I was certain everything was in order, I opened my eyes.

I came face to face with Jinn, leaning over the bed with her arms braced on either side of my body, her face inches from mine as she stared directly at me.

“Beautiful eyes,” I complimented. “Mind moving them a little farther away?”

I had developed a certain appreciation for eyes after the Blood Moon and the changes that had happened to my right eye.

Jinn’s were beautiful.

Jinn seemed to ignore me, not moving back as she stared straight into my single eye. After a few seconds, she stepped away, standing beside the bed, and then asked:

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. A little confused about the recent events, but yes,” I replied, sitting up and moving to the edge of the bed. I looked at her. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jinn stared at me for a moment as if I were mocking her.

“We’re connected, Devas.” She tapped her thigh. “Forgot?”

“…Did you get any backlash?” I asked, a little hesitant.

I was certain my panic attack hadn’t spilled over here. What happened had happened because of the Memory Image and my consciousness there; my real body hadn’t reacted the same way.

Because if the same thing that happened in the Memory Image had happened here, the people on the continent probably would’ve been deleted from existence, and that would’ve been pretty bad.

Still, there was the connection between Jinn and me. Ozma was exempt since he was inside my Spiritual Kingdom—at most, the weather there would’ve changed.

But Jinn was, in a way, an extension of myself…

Fortunately, she shook her head.

“No. The true extent of what happened stopped at the boundary of our connection. It didn’t affect me, but I felt how it affected you.” Her voice grew more concerned.

Then she repeated:

“Are you really okay?”

Before I could answer Jinn’s question, a message appeared in front of me, emerging from a dense, illusory gray fog:

[Mr. Fool]Thank you for your presence, Devas, and for accepting my invitation. Brief as our conversation was, it was pleasant. I hope we can speak like this again in the future.

I took the brief chance to change the subject and replied, pulling the camera in front of my face:

“I found it pleasant too,” I said before asking, “How is Fors? Going through what she did isn’t pleasant.”

As I spoke, I pulled up the stream interface with a thought, quickly navigating through the system options until I created a private (CHAT), connecting only the two of us and isolating the rest of the audience for the conversation we would soon have.

I sent him a quick message telling him to wait a moment and that I’d talk to him soon, then closed the (CHAT).

Whoever Mr. Fool was, he was human. Why he was acting like a god, I didn’t know, but I kept the secret.

Though I’ll admit he was good at it.

I, who was acting as the Devil, didn’t seem nearly as much of a scammer as he did. At times he almost convinced me he was actually some mysterious god.

Mr. Fool replied shortly after in the (CHAT – FATE):

[Mr. Fool]She’s fine. Still a bit confused and shaken, but safe above the gray fog. Don’t worry—she’ll remain safe until dawn.

With that done, and knowing that the only one at that table who wasn’t acting wasn’t having a nervous breakdown, I tossed the (CHAT) aside.

There were a few other messages from the others appearing about the recent events and about Hyper Reality 4D having stopped working, but I set them aside for the moment and turned back to Jinn.

She was now sitting cross-legged on the bed, the pale yellow summer dress slightly folded over her blue thighs, revealing the beginning of the black palm tattoo on her thigh.

She set the matter aside for a moment, tilting her head slightly.

“You seemed to get along well with Mr. Fool,” she commented, her voice genuinely curious. “That’s not something I expected, considering he’s a God and, well…”

She pointed at me. I snorted, somewhat amused. Maybe the divine racism joke had gone a little too far, but it was funny enough for me to keep it going.

I shrugged, straightening the crowded fabric of my suit.

“Whether someone is a God or not, I’ll treat them the way they treat me,” I replied casually. It was something I tried to do most of the time. “If there’s respect, there’ll be respect. He was an excellent host.”

That—and Mr. Fool wasn’t actually a God, which helped—but that was another story.

Jinn probably already suspected something, given our connection. Some of the others in the (CHAT) might suspect it too, but unless he admitted it himself, I would stay silent.

Jinn nodded, agreeing with my logic without saying anything further about the subject.

The room fell silent for a moment.

“I’m fine. Really,” I finally said. “I just… panicked back there.”

“When I went into the body of the Memory Image, I felt like…” It was a little embarrassing to say. “Like I lost something. Something important. That made me panic, and things unfolded the way they did.”

“Sorry you were forced to feel that—”

“Don’t apologize.” Jinn interrupted me. She shook her head and took my right hand. “You do that a lot. For things that aren’t your fault and when you shouldn’t. Don’t apologize for that. Don’t apologize for panicking. Not with me.”

She let out a soft sigh, adjusting the skirt of her dress and covering the tattoo. The orange eye there pulsed faintly, and I could feel the change in my nightmare energy affecting the connection as well.

I’d need to check later to make sure it wouldn’t affect her negatively.

Then she stood up. She smiled and pulled me to my feet. I let her drag me up and stood beside her.

“Come on. The night outside is beautiful. I want to see what this world’s nightlife is like.” Jinn didn’t wait for an answer and made Proto-A around us disappear, pulling it back into the Relic of Knowledge.

Which, in turn, made us start plummeting at least a thousand meters toward the sea.

Jinn could fly, but she chose to fall with me.

[…]

“Do they really fry everything they find? Even chocolate bars?” Jinn’s voice cut through the noise of the crowd, as excited as ever—maybe even more.

We were in the middle of a nighttime street fair somewhere in Manhattan. I had simply looked for some event happening nearby and didn’t really know what it was about or even what street we were on. In truth, I didn’t care.

The clock was approaching one in the morning, yet the city was still bustling—exactly as I remembered it would be in the future.

The air was saturated with the smell of burnt oil, hot pretzels, and the cheap perfume of thousands of people packed between buildings.

If it weren’t for the way people were dressed—the abundance of dark colors and the lip piercings glinting under the streetlights—I wouldn’t have said it was two thousand and nine. I would’ve guessed two thousand and twenty, the way I knew it.

What gave the time period away the most was the prevailing aesthetic: heavy eyeliner, dyed hair covering the eyes, and chains hanging from baggy pants.

I had accidentally surrounded myself with emos… I guess I picked the wrong place for us to come.

“Basically. If it can be fried, they fry it. Sometimes it doesn’t even have to be fryable.” I replied, watching her.

“So, like you then?” She turned, speaking as she walked toward a nearby stall selling DVDs and CDs.

“I’m offended. I barbecue and roast things. That’s different.”

“Mhm…” She didn’t sound convinced.

I kept my senses restrained as much as I could, as usual—about two or three blocks around us. I stopped beside her, resting my weight lightly on the Slick Cane.

While Jinn talked to the vendor—a woman wearing a heavy amount of makeup and at least ten piercings across her face, who barely blinked when she saw a blue-skinned woman with long black hair and gold chains around her wrists and neck, probably assuming it was some incredibly well-done makeup—I noticed a few things that had come with the changes in my energies.

I was instinctively calculating how to steal from the people around me. How I could blend into the crowd and disappear, picking pockets, watches, rings—anything they had in their pockets.

I knew instinctively the movements I would need to make to steal: how my fingers would move, the motions needed to hide, and how to escape if I were caught.

I knew I could make those movements easily. And that even without the concealment from the Slick Cane and the concealment created by the hallucinations of my nightmare energy, I would barely be noticed.

Watching the two of them talk, I spoke before I could think.

“How much for these three?” I asked, my voice calm and confident, without the effort of the current “Devil” act.

I pointed to the stack of CDs Jinn was holding.

The vendor, who had a gauge in each ear and slightly smudged black lipstick, looked surprised by me, as if she hadn’t noticed me until now.

She looked me up and down for a moment, faintly blushing beneath the white makeup.

The Chalice was giving me information about her, but strangely something else was too. I knew she found me attractive and was slightly embarrassed—and that I could use that to my advantage.

What the fuck?…

“T-Thirty dollars,” she replied, stammering a little, stopping mid-chew on her gum and accidentally swallowing it.

“Thirty? For a used My Chemical Romance and two Fall Out Boy albums with the booklet already kind of crumpled?” I let out a short laugh. I didn’t even know much about those bands; the words were just coming out on their own.

I leaned forward slightly in a way that seemed casual, but that I felt was a distraction that drew attention to my face—letting me steal anything below without her noticing.

I didn’t, of course, but it was strange knowing instinctively that I could.

“Make it twenty for the three, and I’ll take ten for seventy,” I said calmly while looking her in the eyes.

Jinn noticed something was going on. I felt her poke me through our connection. I poked back and mentally asked her to wait; I was testing something.

The woman looked away, unable to meet my gaze. I felt my spiritual energy and nightmare energy curve around her slightly, instinctively nudging at her.

I pulled them back before they could plant the mental suggestion that she should obey me and that I was trustworthy.

Seriously, what the hell was that?… Where was this shit coming from?

The woman nodded slightly, lowering her gaze and moving her fingers as if doing some quick math. She frowned faintly before shaking her head.

“Alright… business is slow anyway,” she agreed with a murmur, not even trying to negotiate. “Which ones do you want, sir?… I’m Mia, by the way.”

After letting Jinn choose which CDs she wanted—and after Mia stared at her as if Jinn were her mortal enemy—we left the stall with ten CDs after I paid seventy dollars and slipped another thousand into her pocket using the Voidbag.

A message from the stream appeared right after that:

[Archetype: The Devil — Synchronization +2%]

To be honest, I had almost forgotten about that.

No extra reward had appeared for acting as “The Devil” when I completed John’s mission, so I was still a bit lost about when exactly that would give me the extra reward.

Maybe when I left the world?… Or maybe I just hadn’t reached a high enough percentage to earn one.

Sometimes I wish the stream would actually explain things properly.

As we walked, Jinn, beside me, pulled something out from between the CDs: a torn piece of paper with a phone number and a “Call me” written beside it—Mia’s number.

I had seen her writing it and slipping it in there, of course, but I hadn’t said anything.

Jinn looked at me with one eyebrow raised, waving the paper between her fingers.

“Care to explain what that was back there?” she asked, summoning a small orange flame between her fingers and burning the paper to ashes.

I didn’t comment on that.

“To be honest… I don’t know. I wanted to test something,” I replied, still a little confused as I inspected the new knowledge appearing in my mind. “I think I developed—or rather, I’m developing—some strange abilities without meaning to…”

Jinn’s expression turned serious almost instantly.

“Is it dangerous?”

I shook my head.

“No. It’s just… strange. It’s like when I received the Chalice’s knowledge; it feels as if it had always been there and I’m only noticing it now.”

As we moved away from the stall, the sense of “clarity” in my actions began to expand. It was as if my brain was mapping the world in ways different from how it normally would.

Or rather, adding a new route to that map. If before I mapped “X,” “Y,” and “Z,” now “A,” “B,” and “C” had been added as paths without colliding with or disrupting the others.

Looking at a group of emo teenagers up ahead, my vision blurred slightly.

My spiritual energy flowed into my eyes in a specific, instinctive way, and colors and auras began appearing over everyone’s bodies.

The smaller girl with curly hair was pregnant—two weeks. Deep within the pale green of her health aura, a faint, budding spark of white light pulsed near her abdomen, a life force so new it was barely a shimmer.

The taller guy with his arm around her was probably the father, judging by the connection of affection and care between the two. He had liver problems from drinking. A murky brownish-gray stain clung to the right side of his torso, overlapping the dull blue of his emotional state.

Information about the entire group began appearing as I read the overlapping layers of crimson, purple, and gray in their auras. It was the kind of information I would know if I used Analyze: Item on them, or if I used the information in their blood with the Chalice—but I wasn’t using either of those.

I blinked, pulling my spiritual energy back from my eyes. The colors vanished.

“I’m asking more out of habit than anything, but did you see that too? Did it show up on the stream?”

“I could feel it, yes,” Jinn replied, noticing something through our connection. “I’ll check the stream. Ozma?”

(“I saw it. It looked like some kind of colored aura of emotions and intentions. It appeared on the stream too.”) Ozma answered through the mental microphone. (“That’s something from another world. Like when you got the Deerclops’ energy? You didn’t have that this morning.”)

“Probably…” I murmured.

Messages from the (CHAT) began appearing in my vision:

[(MOD)GeniusBillionairePlayboy]The weird colorful emotion auras? Yeah, we saw them. DS, I think the theory that you’re cursed is true, and it must be a strong one since entering Heaven didn’t purify it. My condolences!(Iron Man condolence emote)

[AdvocateOfGenderEquality]Not even twenty-four hours, bro. We haven’t even been in this world for twenty-four hours and you’re already pulling things out of your ass!(Generic guy yelling upward emote)

[AinzOoalGown]I must say it is impressive how things happen around you. Power attracts power, as they say. I welcome Mr. Fool to the stream. Welcome.

[Mr.Fool]That is quite similar to the Spirit Vision of a Sequence Nine Seer. Curious… did you end up becoming a Beyonder by visiting my world?

[Mr.Fool]And thank you for the welcome, Ainz Ooal Gown.

[(MOD)GeniusBillionairePlayboy]Welcome and all that. Another God. This one seems more reliable than the other one at least. You’ve probably been here a while already, but my guide on how the stream works is in the pinned notifications, check it out if you want.(Iron Man “Hello!” emote)

[TheGreatGoddessAqua]I am reliable! And I want to apologize. Sorry for what I said earlier, please don’t ban me again! Being without the stream is incredibly boring in this backwater world Kazuma dragged me to!(Chibi Aqua bowing deeply emote)

[So-Tan]So… everyone’s just going to ignore the fact he invaded Heaven earlier? We’re in high school now and already moving on to the next gossip, is that it?! A God showed up out of nowhere too!(Small devil with twitching eyelids emote)

[AdvocateOfGenderEquality]Aren’t you actually in high school or something like that? I still think it’s ridiculous that Devils go to high school…

[AdvocateOfGenderEquality]And no, we’re not ignoring it. We’re just waiting for the bomb to explode and then we’ll watch. After that we ask questions. Joined the stream yesterday, did you?

The messages slid across my vision one after another as I skimmed the (CHAT) scrolling upward into the sky.

The (CHAT) was quieter at this hour, but the night owls were still around as always.

For some reason, the conversation between Ainz and Mr. Fool had exactly the same energy as two scammers politely talking to each other…

But I kept that thought to myself.

And it reminded me to turn Hyper Reality 4D back on. I pulled up the Addon command and reactivated it while speaking:

“I’ve kind of already accepted that, but thanks for the goodwill, Stark. That’s why I went to the church earlier—too bad it didn’t work.” I played along with the joke easily.

Having Stark in the (CHAT) kept things light.

Not that he couldn’t be serious—he just chose the right moments for it.

I focused on the explanation Mr. Fool gave about “Spirit Vision” being a Beyonder ability. I had already suspected that, but having confirmation was good.

I nodded to Jinn with my chin for us to keep walking while I pulled up the private (CHAT) I had created earlier.

She nodded back and took the lead, storing the CDs inside the Relic of Knowledge and grabbing my free hand while guiding us through the fair.

I split my attention into two streams easily—in fact, more easily than usual. My mind felt sharper.

While keeping part of my attention on the surroundings and on Jinn, I used the other part to type mentally in the private (CHAT). But before sending the message, a specific part of my spiritual energy pulsed slightly.

An instinct from my spirituality—a fusion of the “change” and “deception” aspects.

Instinctively, I gathered the information I had about Mr. Fool and changed what I had planned to write to:

[The Streamer]: Quick question: do you prefer Yakisoba, Sushi, or Kimchi?

[:Mr.Fool] …

[Mr.Fool]: What?!

[The Streamer]: Your soul is different from Fors’s.

[The Streamer]: Both human, but yours seemed slightly out of order—like something copied and pasted.

[The Streamer]: Of course, I couldn’t see much since I wasn’t there personally and that gray fog was hiding everything, but it was enough to make a guess.

[Mr.Fool]: Those are veeeery specific choices for a “guess.”

[Mr.Fool]: And that doesn’t even make sense!

[Mr.Fool]: How the hell is your first guess that I’m a transmigrator?!

[The Streamer]: Transmigrator?

[The Streamer]: Who said that?

[The Streamer]: I only asked if you preferred Chinese, Japanese, or Korean food.

[The Streamer]: Got something you want to tell me, Mr. Fool?

The private (CHAT) went silent for a few seconds after that.

Frankly, I had a few suspicions that Mr. Fool wasn’t native to his world. As I said before, the difference between him and Fors was noticeable, even if subtle—just like Fors’s companion, the blonde gnome whose name I didn’t know. I had caught a brief glimpse of her when I grabbed Fors and pulled her above the gray fog.

It wasn’t many people to base it on—two against one. Mr. Fool might simply be special on his own, or the difference could come from that fog, since he seemed connected to it.

But since my spirituality was “beeping,” telling me something was there, I decided to follow my new instincts and arranged the words in a way meant to lead Mr. Fool into a mistake, just to see where it would go.

In the end it was just a gamble, and I chose the three countries with the most reincarnators or transmigrators in the stories I knew.

And it worked!

Much easier than it should have, actually...

After about twenty or thirty seconds—while Jinn walked between the stalls and shops of the fair, occasionally glancing at something that caught her attention—Mr. Fool replied again.

[Mr.Fool]: (_　_|||)

[Mr.Fool]: I’m Chinese.

[Mr.Fool]: You’re terrifying.

[The Streamer]: Thanks for the compliment.

[The Streamer]: Yakisoba then?

[Mr.Fool]: Just because I’m Chinese doesn’t mean I prefer Yakisoba over Sushi or Kimchi! And those three foods are actually Chinese in origin!

[The Streamer]: Is that a yes?

[Mr.Fool]: …

[Mr.Fool]: … Yes.

[Mr.Fool]: But that’s a racist thought!

[The Streamer]: I’ll make a note of that then. ( ^∇^)✎

Jinn gave me a strange look while I burst out laughing like an idiot in the middle of the street.

[...]---[...]

No, Devas hasn’t become a Beyonder.

What’s happening is basically the same thing that occurred with the Deerclops—he just picked up a few things from the environment he was exposed to, nothing more.

I used this chapter to explain a few things. The next one will have a small, quick mission, similar to John’s, before we move into a time skip.

I won’t drag this out any longer—have a good night and enjoy the read, everyone!