Magician in Type-Moon

Page 250

As for why not go to London, that place where magicians revel?

The main reason is that he has realized that as a survivor of the Holy Grail War, he is a little bit of a suspect to the Mage's Association.

Perhaps the invitation letter that invited him to study at the Clock Tower was also a carefully set trap.

He wasn't arrogant enough to willingly walk into a trap.

Although I'm confident I can get out of there, it will probably take a lot of time, which will delay my plans to visit Buzi City.

Of course.

He stood on this land where yellow sand swirled everywhere.

The ancient temple ruins appeared even more desolate under the scorching sun, with broken altars and fragments of deities sighing softly at the once-faithful faith.

Although most of it has been reduced to ruins, a few tenacious plants occasionally sprout from the cracks, telling the story of the resilience of life.

Occasionally a gust of wind rises, and sand and dust fly, seemingly burying those lost memories.

Walking on Matou Pond, one can't help but feel a sense of感慨 (gǎnkǎi, mixed feelings):

"This is Babylon, founded by the oldest king Gilgamesh, and the city where Iskandar, the world's ruler, died. There are many familiar faces here."

......

"Is the person you're trading with named Balzan?"

Matou Ike scratched his hair.

Although his abilities are already quite mature and even renowned among magicians, this is the first time he has personally taken on the task of acquiring magic materials.

He deciphered the coded messages in the trading manual quite smoothly, but Matouchi felt a sense of helplessness when he thought about how to put these coded messages into practice.

"Damn it, if Orange finds out, she'll definitely laugh at me, won't she?"

Matouchi made these inexplicable associations.

Even Orange's teasing smile appeared directly in his mind.

"See? Even you have times when you're not good at something!"

Fxxk!

The buildings here are all completely repetitive; they look exactly the same from the outside.

The buildings before us seemed to have been cast from the same mold, desolate and lifeless, layer upon layer, like cold tombstones.

The designated location revealed in the transaction manual is the name of a hotel.

However, there are no buildings in this slum that can be called hotels.

There was no mark on the map in my hand regarding that hotel.

Moreover, the Global Positioning System was not yet widely available at that time.

So the only way to find the place is to wander around and ask passersby.

But in such remote places, even broken English is rarely spoken.

In short, he got lost.

It wasn't some mysterious event, nor was it due to any uncontrollable factors; it was simply that we couldn't find the way.

It makes no sense!

After wandering around for a while, Matou Ike completely gave up.

Finally, they were willing to honestly use magic to find a place to make the deal.

There are many methods available; whether it's spirit possession, divination, or even necromancy, it can all be done easily.

Why didn't we use it before?

Only Matou Ike himself knows the truth of this.

Chapter 305 Treasures and Junk (Part 2)

Although there are many methods, the best way to find the accurate route is still the Magic Eye, which determines the future.

He stopped, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and allowed the perception of the Demon Eye to gradually spread out.

A blurry image flashed through his mind.

"Turn left and go forward for fifty meters, then turn right...sloping slope...go straight...stairs...garbage dump...archway, then turn right...oh, so this is it."

Matouchi murmured softly, imprinting these images and memories in her heart.

A moment later, Matouchi hurried through the dusty, narrow alleyways, and after passing through a series of nooks and crannies, he finally arrived at the dilapidated archway.

The air in the slum was stifling and filled with a strange smell. All around were low houses and haphazardly stacked bricks. Occasionally, a few pairs of eyes would peek out from behind the windows, but they would quickly dart away when he approached.

Following the last stretch of the path guided by the future vision, he passed through a junkyard and several dilapidated buildings, finally seeing a weathered wooden door at the end.

The door frame is engraved with Arabic script that has been almost completely eroded by time, but the name of the hotel can still be vaguely discerned.

This is also one of the few Arabic words that Matouike knows.

"...Building a workshop in a place like this...it seems there's no point in having any expectations." Matou Ike gently knocked on the door according to the frequency given in the trading manual.

The broken door, made of hardwood, made a few dull echoes.

A moment later, a heavy metallic click came from the inside, and then the door slowly opened a narrow crack.

A man with a cold gaze peeked out, his face weathered and wary.

“?????????????????”

“????????????????”

After exchanging a brief code, the other person finally came out of the room.

He spoke in a deep voice, his gaze sweeping over Matou Ike from head to toe, as if to confirm the identity of the newcomer.

"Barzan is already waiting for you."

Matou Ike nodded, straightened his clothes, and stepped into the dimly lit inn.

The door closed silently behind him, shutting out the noise of the outside world into the darkness.

The hotel interior seemed to have been abandoned long ago, with a stench of decay permeating the air.

The flickering light of the oil lamp illuminated the mottled cracks and strange symbols on the wall, as if some ritual had once been performed there.

The clods of earth creaked and groaned, as if protesting against each trampling.

The man led him up a narrow staircase into a small, enclosed room.

The room was simply furnished, with only a rickety table, a few chairs, and a man.

The man sat behind the table like Corleone, but to be honest, his presence was nowhere near as commanding as the actor who played him in the movie.

The man who called himself Balzan seemed to sense Matou Ike's disappointment and spoke up first:

"Don't look at me like that. Everyone here knows me, Balzan, who's back from London."

Matou Ike raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly:

"What a coincidence! I just received the invitation from the Clock Tower not long ago and was preparing to go to London to report for duty."

Somewhat amusingly, the man in front of her seemed to be trying to intimidate Matou Ike by using the name of the Clock Tower, so Matou Ike decided to go along with what he was saying.

Seemingly having confirmed Matou Ike's identity, the man suddenly seemed to become interested.

"I see. Judging from your appearance, you must be East Asian. But if you're planning to join the Clock Tower, then we can rule out those places that use mind magic. That means you're a magician from Japan, junior."

"Yes, it's really not easy to get into the Clock Tower from such a remote and tiny place, senior brother."

Matou Ike consciously adopted the persona of Weber Velvet when answering the other person's question.

"Is that so? How enviable." Balzan's gaze lingered on Matou Ike, and he swirled the wine glass in his hand. "I've prepared the demonic materials you requested. Would you like to check them?"

"Of course, um... it's not that I don't trust you, senior brother, it's just..."

"It's alright, it's alright, these are minor issues. It's only natural for buyers to inspect the goods. Let's go together then."

Barzan stood up, casually straightened his wrinkled coat, and gestured for Matou Ike to follow.

The two walked one after the other through the narrow stairwell, their footsteps making a dull creaking sound on the old wooden floor.

Barzan led Matouchi through a scratched side door, behind which was a long staircase that wound its way down into the ground, like the belly of an endless snake.

“The environment here is a bit awful,” Barzan muttered casually from ahead, “but we have to find a less conspicuous place to store these things, you know—business always needs a bit of secrecy.”

"Why don't you stay in London, senior? The mysterious phenomena there should be more pronounced than here, and it would be more convenient to do research there."

Matou Ike followed behind Balzan and casually asked.

"The Clock Tower, huh? That kind of place isn't fit for humans. People like us, who aren't from prestigious families or are not disciples of renowned masters, are nothing but expendable material in the eyes of those bloodline families. Once you get to the Clock Tower... um..."

At this point, Barzan paused suddenly, then continued:

"Don't underestimate this place. This is Iskandar's tomb. In terms of mystery, this place is top-notch."

"So, senior brother, the magic materials you're selling come from this cemetery? It's amazing how it can produce such a large quantity."

“That’s right, but the materials I produce here don’t just come from this tomb.”

Barzan glanced back at Matou Ike, a half-smile playing on his lips.

"This place is so desolate, what else could we possibly use as magic material besides this tomb?"

Matouchi asked, as if he were a beginner, "confused."

"Don't worry, you'll see it when the time comes."

After continuing forward for a while, Balzan stopped and casually touched the oil lamp on the wall. A small flame instantly leaped up, casting a dim yellow light over the surroundings.

He took out a bunch of bronze keys and inserted them directly into the thick layer of soil.

The earthen walls emitted a harsh, metallic scraping sound, revealing a dimly lit storage room inside.

He pointed with his hand, gesturing for Matouchi to look at several wooden crates filled with materials.

The box was carefully sealed, bound tightly with hemp rope, and anti-corrosion runes were applied to the wooden board.

"These are the materials you wanted, materials with 'historical' attributes. To be honest, I don't know what use these junks are. Even if they are related to mystery, they have lost all their magic over such a long time."