The God of Jesters
Chapter 155 - 3.06.5 It begins.

Chapter 155: 3.06.5 It begins.

Who was I?

A weird question. It was not me who had such a glow-up. I still had my old features, my memories were cut and clear. I even had the gift left by my father. A flame capable of burning away anything that is corrupt.

Which in turn proved that the me right now was me. Though a bit changed after the past experiences. While I can’t say the same for the woman in front of me, who claimed herself to be Remira Wyrmwood.

Was it a bit of ignorant hypocrisy I was noticing?

No, this Knight was just surprised by my words. She must have assumed me to be the same, just like my mother and sister did. But since waking up on that dark day, I know I was not the same. The memories of the Jester didn’t help much. But I always knew that the reason was not Jester.

He was just someone that pushed me, I was the one that chose to fall into the ditch and become what I am now. Turning me into someone that felt like my natural self. A bit of a weird way to define my current persona. But it is what it is.

"I am who I say I am ’Captain’. It would have been weird if I had remained the same after all that transpired. Not to mention, I still have memories of the one who caused all of this." In my words, the face of Captain changed. She seemed surprised.

Though, she is probably treating me like a madman. But still, this much emotion was enough to tell me that she didn’t know this simple fact about me.

"You have its memories?" She asked and I nodded, explaining the last moments of Jester and the fight he fought in my mind.

And I would have expected that the first thing she would ask is why Jester was saving her all the time, treating her like some sort of vase.

A question whose answer is better to be kept a secret. "... it’s why I was able to identify you. Even with that changed face of yours Captain, I can still identify you." I explained, hoping she to never ask.

And as expected, seeming how my words were so bizarre and interesting, she kept asking. "From your words, the demon is dead. You killed him using the flames of Samadhi. Then why are you here?" She asked. Scrutinizing all of my words. "I have learned from Sir Jasper that you were here looking for help. What kind of help is this?" She asked again, obviously knowing what I was going to ask for.

From her assured eyes, I can see that she already had an answer for why I was here. Which was not that hard to guess, considering how I have insinuated that I didn’t gain any memories outside of the events in Durum.

"Revenge and save my sister," I spoke, before taking out a piece of paper. "I didn’t notice before, as my older sister had taken hold of these notes before I was able to find them. But with her absence, I had learned what she was hiding from me and why she left my home."

At my urging, Captain Remira took the paper and looked at the names and places on the paper. "Death... Sme..l.t.ver... Pu.l.ga..si.ri?" An unexpected find. Didn’t expect Captain Remira to be able to read these words.

And considering that this language of Sanskrit was from the other side of the veil. So a bit bizarre how Remira was able to read them, albeit after struggling for a bit.

As for me?

The language came naturally to me. The memories and knowledge of Jester came in handy this time. But it also spoke to me that the one who sent me this letter was someone who knew the transformations I had experienced.

And this could be either someone very close to Jester or the Jester himself.

Which also meant that he was alive and well, taunting me with these letters, which my sister ended up sabotaging.

But there was no time to regret. Knowing the bastard, he probably did it purposefully to lure her in. And now with her gone, he intends to do the same with me. But I would move a step ahead of him this time.

Bringing with me some strong help.

"Didn’t expect the captain to know Sanskrit," I spoke with a smile, as she asked directly.

"This is a warning of sorts? In Pulgasari?" She asked, obviously not wishing to speak on how she knew this language. But it was not that important anyway. I just explained to her how I was able to find myself.

"It’s a company from Pulgasiri, delving into the material trades and processing. Similar slips were sent to my doorstep before, but as I said before. My sister ended up taking them. Now she is following the one who sent these slips."

"As for what is in those slips, I have no hopes of knowing. All I can hope for is your help and support."

*****

The last letter I sent to my little old friend should have forced him to finally make some moves. It would take a few weeks for him to come here, considering if he doesn’t use the direct land route and chose to travel by ship. Which would save him from entering the lands of Yethel.

Which would be considered a danger zone for anyone from Cynark. Specifically, someone as protected as Farhad, or should I say Grifter?

Oh, how much I wanted to meet his true human self. I wanted to see how much he has changed since last time. But I also understood that he was not the same old rat anymore.

He had grown up and changed. The most I could do was bring back a bit of his old flair and that’s it. The chance of him ever joining my little play would be too far-fetched. The only thing I can do is force him to participate.

It was why I called his sister here. My associates in the Yethel were all the more happy in supporting my personal little adventures, that is, as long as I fulfilled their goals. Which in a way are my goals as well.

So using them, I provided prophetic knowledge to Fahna, dragging her here, and now Farhad had no choice but to come here as well.

A great plan whose fruits can only be savored in the coming months.

As for now, Max was following the Dwarf in red coat checking on the newest arrival of raw materials.

"Nothing conspicuous." He spoke on the 3rd day of following this man.

The assassination incident with Salveraz had forced Max to be more cautious of his surroundings. Such a public case had earned ire from the common folks and even harsh criticism from the politicians. This caused a high resurgence of police patrols and the equipment of the police also saw an upgrade.

Causing Max’s job a lot harder in the following days.

While Sheva was relegated to the background. As the danger of going out in the open with her physique would be too eye-catching.

So she mostly stayed in the safe house, practicing her aim and developing some stamina, which would be useful during the long fight. Which was understandable, considering she was not in her peak form yet.

"He has to make a slip," Max spoke in a low voice, while his eyes darted around Krugal and his driver who stood on the side. The same man that Sheva spoke about.

And Max had to agree on one point. The man really seemed weird. He spoke and acted like a normal functioning adult. But it was his lack of emotions and a bit of jittery movements that caused him some confusion. But none of that mattered much, as when looking through his Knight senses, he couldn’t detect anything odd with this man.

The vitality in that man’s body was similar to that of a normal adult and nothing more.

But it was this "normalcy" that had caught Max’s attention on this man as well as his boss, Krugal Smeltver.

Why would a dwarf employ someone as unappealing as this man, who doesn’t even have anything special about him?

Unless this man is the proxy I was looking for. This simple driver.

It was at that moment Max made up his mind.

He was going to kidnap the driver after this day ended. As the lead on Krugal was pretty much dead. This was understandable as the gang activity in the city had died down even further since the last attack.

Making it much harder for Max to find any oddity among his targets. There would be no slips if there was no need for them to do their dirty work anymore.

As for waiting?

That was not an option, he knew that the longer he waited, the more on guard his enemies might be. So the moment he hits the driver and finds any incriminating evidence, he would go into overdrive and deal with the criminals personally.