After knocking twice on the door as a warning, Varina pushed open the door to room number two and went inside.
Kaspass Kanlinen was playing alone.
He was an old man over fifty, with a huge, gaping scar on his face, stretching from the corner of his right eye to the right side of his mouth, giving him a menacing appearance at first glance. However, when he moved, his limping legs greatly reduced this unpleasant feeling.
This was a first impression based on his outward appearance.
In fact, Varina knew him a little more. In the original story, when facing Klein, who was disguised as an ordinary person, he was always quite enthusiastic and honest, except for charging slightly higher fees.
Of course, such behavior might also be related to the "old man's" face, so Varina also planned to take advantage of him.
"Who are you? What do you want with me?"
Kaspass noticed that a strange young man had walked in, and his tone was slightly deep.
"I want a revolver, a pouch under my arm, and 30 rounds of ammunition,"
Varina stated his request first, then added with a smile, "The 'old man' referred me."
Kaspass gave Varina a sizing look twice, then remarked, "Ha, you don't look like a detective, young man."
This might have been a veiled warning, or simply an implication that he looked immature.
Varina didn't think much of it and quickly replied, "That's right, you have a good eye for people."
"So how much do I need to pay?"
"Three pounds,"
Kaspass explained after quoting the price. "It's more expensive than a regular arms shop, but I don't check gun permits here."
"That's a reasonable price, I can accept it."
Varina said, pulling three one-pound notes from his right trouser pocket and handing them to Kaspass.
He had brought all his savings from the past year, about 20 pounds, with three five-pound notes in his left trouser pocket. That's why his left hand was almost always in his pocket all day.
This undoubtedly affected his appearance, but compared to the risk of losing most of his savings, the cost was negligible.
"Great, wait here for me for five minutes."
After checking the money, Kaspass limped out and returned shortly with a manila parcel.
Varina opened the parcel, didn't even look at it closely, and immediately tucked the silver-white pistol into his waistband—he didn't know how to use a gun, so looking wouldn't make a difference; the gun holster under his arm also needed to be worn inside his coat, so it obviously wouldn't be of immediate use.
As for the ammunition and the gun holster, they were stuffed into the two side pockets of his coat.
This transaction was more about establishing a preliminary relationship with Kaspass. Of course, the gun wouldn't be entirely useless, since no one knew he didn't know how to use a gun.
With this transaction as a prelude, Varina spoke again, revealing his true purpose for coming:
"I heard you know some very powerful guys, the mysterious kind, the kind that's unbelievably powerful. Could you introduce me to some?"
Kaspass, who had already reached for the cue sticks on the table, turned sharply upon hearing this request, giving Varina a chilling look.
This scrutiny lasted for several minutes, during which Kaspass remained silent, creating a powerful aura of pressure, trying to intimidate the young man opposite him.
But Varina withstood it, showing no sign of fear.
"What do you want with them?" Kaspass, seeing that his trick had failed, conceded, "Let me give you a piece of advice: unless you have a very good reason, you'd better not contact them."
"It's a matter of life and death,"
Varina said firmly, "Without the help of those kinds of people,
I probably won't live much longer." Kaspass didn't ask any more questions. He left with the words "Wait here," and then staggered out of the billiard room again. Behind him, Varina let out a long sigh of relief.
Good, everything went smoothly.
Varina's series of actions had all been a gamble. Entering the bar, he worried whether Kaspass was even there; meeting him, he worried whether the man recognized "the old man"; and after the arms deal, he worried whether Maric and Miss Sharon, the partners, were still there.
Now it seemed his previous worries were unnecessary.
A dozen minutes later, Kaspass returned and saw Varina sitting on a somewhat dirty sofa, sipping his drink.
"Come with me, he agreed to see you."
The two walked past the boxing ring to a card room near the kitchen, knocked on the door, and entered after receiving permission.
The scene Varina saw was just as described in the original story: a pale-faced Maric and a dozen or so equally pale-faced zombies playing cards inside.
Kaspass closed the door and left, while Maric, who looked to be about thirty years old, walked up to Varina. He stared at Varina with a menacing gaze, his tone laced with malice, and asked directly,
"What kind of help do you want?"
Varina didn't answer directly, but instead chose to show his intentions through actions.
He took two steps to the side, moving into the shadows of a lamp, and then crouched down. This simple movement drastically reduced his presence, almost making him disappear into the shadows.
Of course, this effect applied to ordinary people, not to extraordinary individuals like Marich.
"I understand," Marich nodded slightly after watching the performance. "Tell me, how much do you know?"
Varina resumed her stance and said,
"I've learned through some connections that people like me are called 'half-Outstanding.' If they can't become true 'Outstanding,' they won't live long and will die suddenly."
"And to become a true 'Outstanding,' I need to find a potion."
"That's about it."
Marich casually picked up a wine glass next to a zombie, took a sip, and nodded, saying,
"Your information is mostly correct, but potions aren't found; you find the recipe and materials and then concoct them yourself, using them immediately."
"Also, potions have different levels, starting from Sequence 9, then 9, 8, 7, 6, and so on. Ordinary people can only drink Sequence 9 potions. If you drink them indiscriminately, death will probably be the best outcome."
"Sequence 9 potions also come in many forms, but once you choose one, all other potions, except for its corresponding follow-up potions, will be more terrifying to you than deadly poison."
After a very brief introduction to the potion system, Marich's expression turned serious. He stared at Varina again and warned,
"Your situation is even more special!"
"You have no choice. You can only resolve your problem by drinking a Sequence 9 potion that matches the traits you just displayed."
"Remember, the potion recipe you need is 'Assassin's,' which generally costs around 200 pounds."
Marich stopped there. Seeing this,
Varina removed his cap, bowed, and asked expectantly,
"Then, sir, do you have the potion recipe I need?"Varina hoped to obtain the formula directly from Marich.
He was somewhat confident, as Marich was backed by Miss Sharon, a Sequence 5 "vengeful spirit," and they belonged to the Rose School, possessing an angelic teacher, making it highly likely they had the "Assassin's" potion formula.
However, things weren't as easy as he expected.
Faced with Varina's questioning, Marich snorted, abruptly ending his hopes:
"No."
"The potion formula you want is in the hands of a secret cult, and I don't want to have anything to do with them."
"That's all the help I can offer."
"The knowledge I'm giving you is worth 50 pounds; you can leave after paying."
This scenario was quite different from what Varina had anticipated. He hadn't expected that just a few words would cost 50 pounds! And what bothered him even more was that the information provided was all stuff he already knew.
If he had known this would happen, he shouldn't have considered himself a novice in the mystical arts.
Thinking this, Varina awkwardly began,
"It's like this, sir."
"I admit your knowledge is sufficient to match your offer, but the problem is, I originally thought the process was to inspect the goods first, then offer a price and make the transaction, so..."
Maric chimed in, completing Varina's sentence, "So you didn't bring enough money?"
"That's right, that's it." Varina then suggested, "So sir, could you pay in installments? I promise I'll be back."
"How much do you have?" Maric asked directly.
"15 pounds!"
Varina pulled out a banknote from his left trouser pocket, holding it up to eye level.
Maric glanced at it, took a few steps to Varina, snatched two 5-pound notes from his hand, and pointed to the door, "You can leave now."
His tone suggested that they were even.
So, should he truly be considered one of the remaining elites of the Temperance faction? Although he seemed full of malice, his nature was actually quite kind.
Varina walked to the door, turned back before opening it, and said, "I will remember your kindness, sir, and I hope I will have the opportunity to repay you."
After saying this, he opened the door and went out without waiting for Maric's response.
Kaspass was waiting nearby outside the door. Seeing Varina emerge, he immediately approached and asked, "Is the matter resolved?"
"About half resolved," Varina said with a wry smile. "Do you have anyone else you can recommend?"
"But Marich is the most terrifying person I know; he's not even afraid of bullets!" Kaspass shook his head. "If even he can't help you, I don't think I have anyone else to recommend."
"That's not necessarily true,"
Varina explained. "Solving my problem requires more knowledge than strength. Why don't you think about it some more?"
"In that case—"
Kaspass drew out the last syllable, clearly thinking, "perhaps… that old gentleman can help you."
Having made up his mind, his speech quickened, and his tone regained its confidence:
"Here's what I'll do: I'll send you to a gathering of people like them. You can seek help from them."
"I can tell you in advance that, in my opinion, the one most likely to help you is the old gentleman hosting the gathering."
"Well, as for the timing…"
"I can't tell you the time in advance. Well, you don't need to come for the next three days, but it would be best if you came before eight o'clock every day after that. I'll arrange the rest."
Varina nodded with a smile. Kaspass's decision was exactly what he had hoped for. "Thank you for your help in arranging things. How much do you want me to pay for this?"
"Two pounds.
" Kaspass nodded and said, "Of course, you don't have to pay me now." "Okay, that's reasonable."
The two walked back to the bar lobby, and Varina said goodbye and left through the door.
In the card room, Maric sat in a chair, still holding the wine glass he had just drunk. He asked as if talking to himself,
"Why did you suddenly signal me to show him goodwill?"
As soon as he finished speaking, the figure of a woman in a black court dress appeared in the window opposite Maric. She had light blonde hair, blue eyes, and a very delicate appearance.
"It was inspiration,"
Miss Sharon said in a detached, flat tone. "His movement of hiding in the shadows just now subtly triggered my spiritual intuition."
…
At nine o'clock that evening, Varina dragged his weary body back to his lodgings.
After showering, he fought off the overwhelming sleepiness, first fiddling with the revolver he had recently acquired, then beginning to plan his next move.
The key to the plan was making money.
To be on the safe side, he should have at least two hundred gold pounds on him when he went to the Brave Ones' Tavern three days later. What if he didn't? What if someone at the party produced the "Assassin's" potion recipe?
Two hundred pounds—that was a fortune for Varina.
He had worked for over a year, and even without major expenses, his total savings were only about twenty pounds. That meant that to save that much money with his current weekly wage of a little over a pound, he would need to work for ten more years.
And he only had three days.
Clearly, he would have to resort to some unethical means.
Regarding this, a widely circulated saying from another memory helped him think:
"The quickest ways to make money are all written in the law."
Varina already had a vague plan in mind; he intended to solve this problem through theft. For this, he had even prepared a final defense—
a revolver.
Besides serving as a tool for building relationships, it could also be a good deterrent weapon.
Furthermore, the extraordinary trait that Varina had awakened would add a strong layer of insurance to his thefts.
Varina had to admit that, although not the most satisfactory one, this extraordinary trait was quite useful.
He currently found the most satisfactory extraordinary trait to be the "Generalist's" "photographic memory." If he had awakened this trait, why would he need to save money?
The original work recorded at least twenty or thirty complete potion recipes, many of which were high-sequence; any one of them would be worth piles of gold pounds!
Unfortunately, reality doesn't offer "what ifs."
Varina didn't have a photographic memory, so he only remembered the names of most of the potion recipes. He vaguely remembered the main ingredients, but couldn't recall their sequence numbers.
It was like begging while sitting on a gold mine—utterly pathetic!
He had considered ways to uncover this treasure, and he had indeed thought of one—once he became a Sequence 7 "Witch," he should be able to use mirror divination to fully recall the recipes.
Ah, speaking of Sequence 7, that was another painful memory!
...
After an unknown amount of time, Varina snapped out of his reverie, only to find he still hadn't devised a concrete plan.
He sighed and tried to gather his thoughts to start over.
As the saying goes, the beginning is always the hardest, and Varina was stuck on the very first step of his plan—choosing a suitable target.