Chapter Text
“What did you do to him?” The little boy, His melting ice cream entirely forgotten, fixed His wide eyes on the man standing before Him.
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m asking what you did to him. Or, what did he do to you?” His ice cream melted and dripped onto the table, ignored by everyone else in the room. “Is he overworking you too? You poor man.” Suddenly, the boy’s eyes welled up. With an expression so pitiful it would make any adult rush to buy Him a new treat, He whispered as if sharing a profound secret. “He overworks me too. Literally, it’s child labor. But your situation... yours is even more dire.”
Alger sat in his chair, staring at the scene before him, utterly speechless. What does He mean, overworking? Well, that wasn't even the most absurd part of the situation. And what does He mean by even more dire?
A woman’s voice intervened. “Don’t. Scare. The. Child. Snake. Of. Ice cream.”
Though Alger realized the four blonde heads were referring to him as the 'child,' he remained silent. In truth, he hadn’t understood why he was being interrogated from the very beginning.
However, the silver-haired boy looked at the woman with a huff, appearing offended. “Shouldn’t you be defending my rights here? I’m the one being worked the hardest, and the compensation—there isn't even any compensation!” The boy’s eyes grew even tearier, as if He were seconds away from a screaming tantrum. “I want to go home.”
“Ignore Him.” The white-haired elderly man sighed softly, like a weary grandfather watching His grandchildren cause chaos. “He gets a bit too carried away with his roles sometimes.”
“I don’t want to hear comments from someone who clings to a certain poet’s body like a leech, thank you.”
Taking the wise path, Alger chose to remain silent. He had to keep reminding himself that the individuals before him were Angels.
Yes, Angels. Literal ones.
The Angel of Mercury, Will Ceres. No, He wasn't just a child; He was a powerful Sequence 1 Angel from the Fourth Epoch—He wasn't crying because His ice cream melted; no, He was acting. At least, that was what Alger hoped.
The Angel of Spirits, Reinette Tinekerr. Ignore the nicknames She gave to those across from Her, or She’d bury you in the soil—or so Madam Hermit had warned.
And the Angel of Time, not a leech, Pallez Zoroast. Mr. Star had mentioned He was a parasite, but why He continued to be one remained a mystery, and the target of said parasitism seemed intent on ignoring the matter entirely.
And then there was Madam Justice, watching the chaos with a gentle smile; Mr. Star, who was uncharacteristically busy glaring at Alger; and Madam Magician, whose eyes held a strange spark as if she were watching her greatest source of inspiration.
As for the reason they were all gathered here—Alger still had no idea.
He had only been summoned to an urgent meeting by Madam Justice, and all he knew was that it concerned Mr. Fool’s dream.
Since Mr. Fool had entered his deep slumber, the Tarot Club had made significant progress. As they understood it, the ‘gold coins’ distributed by Mr. Fool were tickets to enter his dream. This dream was the battlefield where Mr. Fool’s consciousness fought against his predecessor’s. To awaken Mr. Fool, one had to enter that dream.
Initially, Alger had wanted to enter the dream himself, but realizing the Sailor pathway wouldn't be of much use in a dreamscape, he had decided to remain quiet and leave it to the experts.
If he couldn't help, there was no point in getting in the way.
The owners of the gold coins had entered the dream first, but after several failed attempts, the coins began to change hands. This was why the Angel of Time and Madam Justice had become involved. One due to His high status and experience, the other because of her expertise in the domain of dreams.
Previously, other Angels and certain Tarot Club members believed to be helpful had also used these coins. Madam Magician was one of them, and since she was now in charge of transportation, she was attending this meeting as well.
The problem was that the results had been unsuccessful. Mr. Fool was still asleep.
Alger’s only consolation was the misty gray script on his wrist, which remained steady. At least Mingrui was alive. He was asleep, yes; he hadn't won the war yet, but there was still hope. He hadn't lost it either.
At the very least, they had gathered some information about the dream, and as the pieces came together, the possibility of waking ‘Him’ increased.
As for why Alger was being included now—he didn't know yet, but he was grateful to be part of it.
“Mr. Hanged Man,” Madam Justice intervened softly. “I apologize for summoning you so suddenly without explanation. I simply believed the matter needed to be discussed in person, as some issues are too private to be spoken of openly.”
Alger nodded understandingly. “It’s no trouble. However, I should mention that my time is limited. I left my ship abruptly; if my absence is noticed, it could cause problems.”
Madam Justice gave a thoughtful nod. “Then let us get straight to the point.”
The group, gathered in an ancient castle, suddenly fell silent. Madam Justice scanned the Angels as if encouraging Them to speak, but They all remained quiet—one turned away with a ‘hmph’ to eat His ice cream, another simply ignored the gaze, and the last declined with a subtle, polite smile. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to Alger.
“Mr. Hanged Man, as you know, we have been searching for ways to awaken Mr. Fool for some time. We have successfully entered his dream, and thanks to Mr. Star’s and my powers, we were able to reduce the chaos of the entry process to some extent. However, to be frank, the inside of the dream is a world entirely different from the one we know. In its atmosphere, and in its rules.”
Madam Justice’s tone was soft, calm and steady, the kind that could hold one’s attention for hours. Alger had no trouble picking out the crucial points.
A completely different world... Perhaps a manifestation of the era Mingrui came from.
“Within the dream, as far as we have explored, there is a vast city. The institutions and people of our world are represented there in different or similar ways. It is like a parallel reality.” Madam Justice paused for a brief moment, as if waiting for her words to be fully digested. “To awaken Mr. Fool, we first began looking for the entity representing him. And we have found some clues.”
The Angels remained silent. The current members of the Tarot Club did the same, if one ignored Madam Magician’s unusual excitement and Mr. Star’s abnormally questioning expression.
“And we have managed to narrow our suspicions down to a single individual. However, whenever we attempt to approach him, the dream manages to expel us. We believe this is the influence of the Celestial Worthy over the dream.”
Alger nodded. It made sense; if there was a connection between Mr. Fool and the Celestial Worthy as they suspected, then it was inevitable they would affect each other. When their authorities overlapped, one’s opportunity would inevitably be negated by the other.
Like two captains fighting for the same ship, both must have authority over certain points of the vessel. That was what made the outcome of the war so uncertain.
Alger tried to suppress the sense of hopelessness. He couldn't let the unease gnawing at his mind and tightening his chest destroy his hope.
‘The greatest anchor,’ Mr. Fool had said. Soulmates were the greatest anchors.
If the anchor swayed, how could the ship not shake?
Alger couldn't let that happen. Even if everything and everyone suggested otherwise, he would believe in Mr. Fool’s return until the writing on his wrist faded.
No. Even if the writing disappeared. He had returned twice; why not a third time?
Weren't miracles Mr. Fool’s specialty?
He had said he would return; wouldn't Mr. Fool keep his word?
The sailor’s fingers involuntarily stroked his left wrist until he felt a small sense of relief.
Madam Justice had remained silent as if waiting for Alger’s thoughts to settle, and then she spoke again.
“Nevertheless, we have managed to obtain enough information about this person to make us suspect he is Mr. Fool.”
“Perhaps here,” Mr. Star cut in, “we should also mention that we suspect this person is also Kl—Mr. World.”
“Correct.” Madam Justice agreed, graciously overlooking the slip of the tongue. “Mr. Star has confirmed that this individual displays characteristics similar to Mr. World.”
'Well, perhaps because they are the same person?' Alger kept the comment to himself, though from the way the Angel of Mercury rolled His eyes, it was clear He was thinking the same thing. ‘Ah, so the Angels know 'Him'. Of course.’
So, if those who entered the dream suspected this individual was either Mr. Fool or Mr. World, it meant they had found the right person.
“What exactly raised your suspicions?”
“Mr. World...” Mr. Star paused for a moment, as if unsure of how much to reveal. However, after a while, he sighed, seemingly deciding to say what was on his mind. “Mr. World has siblings. And in the dream, these siblings appear to be the siblings of the person we suspect is Mr. Fool.”
Siblings.
Alger had done a bit of research after speaking with Mingrui.
To be honest, he wasn't sure if this was considered a transgression, but his intentions weren't malicious; he was almost certain Mingrui wouldn't be angry even if he found out. Almost.
So he had looked into Klein Moretti.
He had seen in Mingrui’s past that he had embraced Klein’s siblings as his own.
Now, with Mr. Fool in slumber, the possibility of something happening to those siblings was almost terrifying.
Alger couldn't let that happen. Although he hadn't met the family face-to-face, he had watched them from a distance for a while. He hadn't returned to the sea without making arrangements to ensure their safety.
Mingrui loved them. He had protected them.
Alger had to do the same.
It was no surprise that these siblings, to whom Mingrui felt so close, had appeared in the dream as well.
“Perhaps Mr. Fool is using Mr. World’s identity in the dream,” Madam Magician added thoughtfully. “He might have wanted to use an inconspicuous identity to fight against the Celestial Worthy. After all, we don’t know the scale of the battle between them. Or perhaps he’s simply using Mr. World’s background to adapt to life within the dream.”
Alger didn't comment. Had he not known the truth, he likely would have thought the same.
When enough explanation wasn't provided, it was inevitable for people to mislead themselves.
The captain of the Blue Avenger felt a slight sense of bitter amusement as he realized Mr. Fool had probably used this tactic many times.
How many times had he misled himself? Sometimes, thinking too much caused one to ignore the actual answer.
Unfortunately, overthinking wasn't something that could be stopped in an instant.
“As I said,” Madam Justice continued, “we cannot approach him to get full confirmation. Most recently, when Mr. Star tried to speak with him, he was immediately expelled. However, he managed to gather a few pieces of information before being kicked out.”
When Madam Justice fell silent, Mr. Star crossed his arms over his chest and continued.
“The person we found has a fiancé in the dream.”
‘Huh?’
“Apparently, they are planning to get married.”
‘What?’
“And although we couldn't see this person, we confirmed the name.”
Alger asked, his mask of composure nearly shattered, “Who?”
“A sailor named Alger Wilson.”
Alger’s lips parted, then closed again. He felt a muscle in his jaw twitch. Had his breathing hitched? That thumping sound—he prayed it wasn't his own heart.
‘Control your expression,’ he reminded himself. ‘There’s a Spectator in the room.’
Though, judging by the spark in Madam Magician’s eyes, he was a bit late in calming himself. Alger had, unfortunately, learned that Madam Magician was the famous author Fors Wall and that she had penned some rather unique books about his soulmate. And now, the expression on the woman’s face suggested she had found the inspiration for her next book.
‘What now? A book about Gehrman Sparrow suddenly falling in love with one of the pirates he was trying to hunt? Fantastic.’
Madam Justice looked as though she were wearing a satisfied smile. Mr. Star, however, didn't seem quite as happy about it.
Alger cleared his throat, clearing the thoughts from his mind. “Are you certain?”
“Entirely.” This time, the answer came from the Angel of Mercury, who had been silent for a while. “You’ve been engaged to that Fool,” He added with a brief pause, “or His blessed. Congratulations.”
‘...’
A brief silence fell over the room. Alger realized a reaction was expected of him, but he wasn't sure what to say. Mr. Fool’s Angels certainly knew, at least to some extent, that Mr. Fool and Mr. World were the same person. But since the others didn't know, Alger couldn't easily explain.
Well, there was a huge difference between saying one was Mr. Fool’s soulmate and saying one was Mr. World’s soulmate.
A soulmate didn't necessarily have to be romantic, of course, but... it seemed Mingrui saw him that way.
Then again, he saw Mingrui that way too.
But was this identity—this role of a fiancé— truly a choice of his own making? Or merely a lingering echo rising from the depths of his subconscious?
Could it have been forged by some external force? A trap, perhaps? A calculated deception? But orchestrated by whom?
Could it really... have been arranged by Mr. Fool? Simply because he willed it?
‘No. Don’t think.’
In a room with a Spectator, one wasn't even free in their own thoughts.
Returning to the heart of the matter, saying he was Mr. Fool’s soulmate wasn't an issue for him personally. However, he wasn't sure how Mingrui would react to it.
He had accepted him in private, yes. But whether he had accepted him enough to announce it to the world, Alger wasn't sure.
Mingrui had said that Mr. Fool was also a persona, and from the impression he had gathered, Mingrui never broke the persona he was in.
Mr. Fool... was a distant deity. He was wise, he was compassionate, but ultimately, he was a deity, and he didn't hesitate to make his position clear when necessary.
He wasn't a being who would have a relationship with a mortal.
That would shatter Mr. Fool’s persona.
Alger knew this would happen. He knew he would remain in the shadows, that he couldn't stand by Mr. Fool’s side as a soulmate, and that the closest he could get was the Mr. World persona.
‘It’s fine,’ he had told himself. ‘It’s fine... it has to be.’
As long as he could serve his God, standing beside Him didn't matter.
It absolutely didn't.
With a slight sigh, he returned to the matter at hand.
Fortunately, Mr. Star had also entered the dream, providing Alger with an opportunity to offer an explanation for now. However, if he explained the reason for the engagement by saying he was Mr. World’s soulmate, he would be confirming that the person in question was Mr. World, and he wasn't sure what kind of consequences that would bring.
Would it slow down Mr. Fool’s awakening process?
After all, if the Tarot Club thought this person was Mr. World, they would look for another Mr. Fool.
As Alger hesitated, the Angel of Time stepped in as if to his rescue.
“Is he not your soulmate?”
‘...’
Alger paused for a brief second. ‘That... is open-ended enough to be either Mr. Fool or Mr. World.’
Keep the matter open-ended enough, and let them lead themselves. Until a solution was found.
“Correct.”
"Great." Mr. Star raised an eyebrow, a sharp smile playing on his lips. "Meeting your soulmate within the same organization, huh? Quite the story. I just hope the chronological order of events truly follows that narrative."
For some reason, he seemed to be harboring a different theory altogether.
“Right? A pirate hunter and a pirate. I mean, a ship captain. Yes, I mean, the same organization.” Madam Magician said with a bright tone. "I need a pen."
Alger forced himself not to sigh.
“Then that explains why you have a dream identity as that person’s fiancé.” Madam Justice, acting mercifully enough, returned to the main point.
“And why I keep feeling the urge to go out to sea.” The Angel of Mercury groaned. “It seems fate was guiding me to give my gold coin to you.”
‘If you’re supposed to give the gold coin to me, does that mean I need to enter this dream?’ Alger felt a wave of excitement. Although Madam Justice had mentioned certain dangers in entering the dream during previous monthly tarot meetings, didn't this mean he could see Mingrui in the dream? How could he say no?
“If you enter the dream,” the Angel of Time began, “you will wake up in the body of your dream self. The moment it’s realized you’ve come from the outside, you’ll be expelled. However, if you manage to hide yourself properly, you will have the chance to meet with Mr. Fool.”
“If he truly is Mr. Fool,” Mr. Star added.
“It doesn't matter.” The Angel of Time sighed softly and repeated Mr. Fool’s words, words often echoed by the Tarot Club. “The awakening of The World spells The Fool’s return. It will be enough to awaken your ‘fiancé’.”
Alger ignored the way the Angel of Time emphasized a certain word. Instead, he was thinking about how he would perform this awakening.
It wouldn't be like Emperor Roselle’s stories, where he’d find his ‘fiancé’ sleeping in a glass coffin and have to kiss him, would it?
Well...
‘Pull yourself together, Alger.’
“Is there any other information we have about him?”
“Memory. None.” The four heads carried by the Angel of Spirits spoke the words one by one. “Like. A. Normal. Human.”
Alger remained silent.
If his memory had been erased, or sealed, it was either Mr. Fool’s doing or the Celestial Worthy’s. If it had been erased by the Celestial Worthy, the answer was simple: restoring his memory could be the first step to awakening him. But if it was Mr. Fool himself who had erased the memory, perhaps restoring it wasn't a solution; on the contrary, it might even create a bigger problem.
But they likely had no other solution.
“Entering the dream has its own dangers,” Madam Justice said suddenly, as if she had read Alger’s thoughts. “Things that happen to you in the dream also affect your physical body. If you are corrupted in the dream, you will be corrupted in reality. If you are injured in the dream, you will be injured in reality. If you die in the dream... you die in reality.”
‘More or less as I suspected... Entering the dream of a god is no simple task.’
Alger let out a deep breath.
He’d be lying if he said he wasn't afraid. Even as a Beyonder of the Sailor pathway, he wasn't a man who jumped headfirst into everything. He wouldn't act without guaranteeing his safety. But he wasn't one to always retreat, either.
Even if the risks were high... great gambles often yielded great rewards.
And if Alger entering the dream would accelerate Mr. Fool’s awakening... well, that was a risk Alger was willing to take.
Moreover, although Alger’s pathway held no sway over the threads of destiny, he had been a Beyonder long enough to recognize the weight of fate’s guidance.
Fate never nudged without purpose.
If the Angel of Mercury was right in what He said—and He likely was—then fate was guiding Alger into the dream.
The possibility of it being a trap by the Celestial Worthy? It was high. Yet, if the Angel of Mercury was steering him toward this path without a word of warning, then perhaps this was simply what had to be done.
He knew, with a haunting certainty, that if this were not his intended path, the Angel of Mercury would never have granted him the coin.
At that moment, Madam Justice smiled slightly, even though she hadn't heard Alger’s answer. A Spectator’s eyes could read thoughts before they even formed in another’s mind.
When Alger met the young lady’s eyes, he returned the smile slightly.
However, before he could respond, as if He knew what Alger was going to say, the Angel of Time cut in.
"I do not think you realize what you have stepped into," He said slowly. His voice was neither raised nor harsh. "When a god is involved, nothing is safe. There was a saying in my time: Believe in the might of the deities, but do not trust in their benevolence. A god does not even need to be intentionally unmerciful; their mere existence is a threat."
Alger did not respond; his fingers silently brushed against his left wrist.
The Angel’s eyes followed the movement with an unreadable expression. Madam Justice’s pupils trembled slightly.
"Gods think differently than humans," the white-haired man continued. "For them, there is no love, no loyalty. Only anchors to be possessed."
As the Angel of Time finished his words, Alger could understand that these words weren't just meant for the dream.
The risks of the dream were at an acceptable level. Especially if he didn't provoke anything and with two demi-gods talented in this field and Angels who could help from different angles, there shouldn't be too much trouble.
The Angel of Time’s warning was about standing by Mr. Fool’s side as a soulmate.
Alger was aware of the risks.
Being the soulmate of a God... was more terrifying than it was reassuring.
He was under a God’s protection, of course. But he was also the target of other gods. If any harm were to come to him, Mr. Fool’s mental state could be affected. In a bad way.
A soulmate was a powerful anchor. When it was in a romantic sense, it was the most potent.
And while this could give Gods great strength, it could also give them a great weakness.
Could a God ever love His own weakness? The answer came swiftly.
“The Lord of Storms’ soulmate appeared in the Fourth Epoch,” the Marauder Angel said. "But at that time, 'He' was in conflict with the Eternal Blazing Sun and the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, and 'He' couldn't risk a weakness like a soulmate.”
Though the Angel of Time’s sudden apparent change of subject shocked the three Tarot Club members who were unfamiliar with the topic, they continued to listen in silence.
The Angel of Mercury sighed softly but did not intervene. He had an air of reluctance about Him, as if He already knew the outcome. The Angel of Spirits, on the other hand, remained as silent as a statue.
“In the end," the Angel continued, His voice as monotonous as if He were reading from a simple textbook. "He decided to eliminate this weakness 'Himself'. Before 'His' enemies could."
Alger exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The sentence required no explanation, yet the old man went on.
"If you do not value a bond enough, it cannot bind you. The Lord first stripped 'Himself' of emotions—probably they had never existed at all—and in doing so, 'He' diminished the influence 'His' soulmate had over 'Him'."
"Strangely enough," the Angel of Mercury murmured, "it worked."
Alger felt as if he were drowning in a shoreless ocean. Though he could sense the astonishment of the other members in the room, he had sunk too deep to focus.
“This isn't even a rare occurrence among the Gods.” The Angel of Time said calmly, without any expression in His eyes. “According to another rumor, the God of Death killed 'His' soulmate and imprisoned her soul in 'His' divine kingdom, giving her 'His' own version of eternity.”
The sailor was silent for several seconds. Like everyone in the room, some were waiting silently for an answer while others were trying to make sense of the subject. A flicker of emotion appeared in Madam Justice’s eyes, showing she was slowly beginning to understand. Pity.
One day, Mr. Fool’s enemies could kill Alger.
One day, if Mr. Fool were to lose his emotions, 'He' might want to eliminate this weakness. If the person who killed 'His' soulmate was 'Himself', 'His' mental state wouldn't take a massive hit.
Clean. Fast. Effective.
But would Mr. Fool truly do that?
The real question was, when Mr. Fool awakened... how much of Mingrui’s emotions would survive?
Alger knew the risks. And ever since Mr. Fool had fallen asleep, the same questions had been circling in his mind.
Overthinking was both a blessing and a curse, because sometimes when there was nothing to think about, the brain chose interesting and unnecessary topics to dwell on. Like analyzing his own feelings, for instance.
Alger had long ago accepted that he had feelings for Mr. Fool, for Mr. World. For Mingrui.
He had no idea how it had developed, but he was past the age where he would deny the elephant in the room and lie to himself.
He had feelings for ‘Him’.
Klein Moretti or Zhou Mingrui. Gehrman Sparrow or Mr. Fool.
Alger had asked himself many times which one he loved.
He had never known the first two. But he had seen them through memories; he had witnessed their deepest memories.
He had known the latter two. But at the same time, he was very far from them.
Still, Alger couldn't give himself an answer. Perhaps there was no answer. The answer was all of them.
And Alger had known since the first day he followed Mr. Fool that he was captaining a sinking ship.
The ship was taking on water. Perhaps half of it was already submerged in the ocean.
Perhaps there was a storm; a fog surrounded everything.
But Alger wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
A sailor, even if he were to drown, would not desert the sea to which he belonged. The sailor belonged to that ocean. To that fog-shrouded ocean.
For as long as they held a compass in their hands, they could find a way out of that sea. It wasn’t idealism; it was, quite simply, a refusal to surrender.
Perhaps that grey, faintly cold sensation clinging to his wrist was enough to convince him not to give up.
“It’s fine,” he said slowly. “I accept the risk.”
The Angel of Time let out an audible breath, as if giving up. “It was love that brought a certain Emperor to 'His' end, after all.”
“The. Fool. A. Total. Fool.” The four heads of the Angel of Spirits spoke separately. “Just. Like. His. Soulmate.”
“Both of you love to dramatize things.” The Angel of Mercury groaned again. “Just say you’re worried instead of telling horror stories. Besides, who—That Fool? Eliminate his own weakness? Are we talking about the same The Fool? I’m telling you, hanging out with a poet is making you dramatic too.”
Mr. Star winced slightly at this, which was completely ignored by the angels.
“I’m just stating the possibility. Just eat your ice cream.”
“It melted while I was listening to your endless talking.”
“My sincerest condolences.”
Alger paused for a brief moment at the Angels’ conversation.
‘Oh, so He was worried about me?’
However, as if his facial expression had betrayed what he was thinking, he received a sharp look from the mentioned Angel of Time.
“Ahem.” Madam Justice broke in with a hesitant smile, her eyes darting between Mr. Hanged Man and the Angel of Time.
The elderly man sighed softly, then turned His eyes toward the members of the Tarot Club. "Forgive me," Pallez Zoroast said, His voice carrying a weight that brooked no argument. "It is better for you not to remember that which Mr. Fool has yet to reveal 'Himself.'"
Madam Justice cast a brief, hesitant glance toward Alger before nodding slowly. "It is no matter." Beside her, Madam Magician wore a look of dazed realization, as if the fragmented pieces of her mind were finally beginning to align, while Mr. Star... he simply stood there with a hollow expression, as though he had forgotten how to react.
The next second, the Angel of Time made a subtle gesture with his fingers, and the three Tarot Club members paused momentarily. They cast a curious look around.
He had stolen the trio’s memories of the last conversation. Alger nodded to Him with a grateful expression.
Mr. Star paused for a moment as if he were about to ask a question, but then his eyes shifted toward the white-haired man, and leaning back, he chose to remain silent. Madam Magician did no more than cast a curious glance at her surroundings. Madam Justice’s expression, however, remained unreadable.
Yet all three of them—even if through different interpretations—refrained from objecting, believing there was a reason they had lost their memories of the last few minutes.
“Great.” The Angel of Mercury shrugged, a relaxed movement that cleared the air. His monotonous tone perfectly matched the impatient and bored-child expression on His face. “Then, in accordance with the rule of ‘equivalent exchange’ that your Mr. Fool loves so much, you can receive your reward for the risk of entering the dream from your fiancé later. As for the form it takes... well, that’s entirely up to you."
‘...’
When he was called a fiancé for the second time, Alger couldn't help but glare. And at the implication in the last sentence, too.
Fine, Mr. Fool might be his soulmate, and fine, he had romantic feelings, and fine, he didn't really mind being a fiancé—he might even want it—but...
Well.
...he really might want it.
He would definitely want to take the relationship further. Though considering the situation, he’d first like to actually start the relationship.
Alright, but... there was no need to emphasize this "fiancé" part so much.
But this... this was his self in Mr. Fool’s dream, which meant it was designed by Mr. Fool. Therefore... didn't this mean Mr. Fool was serious about this too?
‘Focus, Alger. Not the time.’
Frankly, the words of the Angel of Time had settled like a disturbing weight in a corner of his mind. It was clear that the Angel of Mercury sought to diffuse the tension, yet the expression on the white-haired old man’s face was a silent command: keep my words close to your heart.
The end might not be kind. In all likelihood, it would not be.
'When a god is involved, things do not end well. They need not be merciless.'
Mr. Fool was not merciless. But his godhood was the very source of a glaring problem that Alger desperately wished to ignore.
Alger was a mortal. A demigod, yes, but ultimately bound by mortality.
And when that inevitable moment of death finally arrived, what would become of Mr. Fool?
Or... what if one of those scenarios mentioned by the Angel of Time, or something hauntingly similar, were to unfold?
For Alger Wilson, a man who had risked everything simply to survive for so long, this realization left an indefinable weight pressing against his heart.
What if he were weaving the shroud of his own demise with his very own hands?
Just as his mind began to drift into even more treacherous waters, Alger pulled himself back.
'Now is truly not the time.'
“Fool. Will. Pay. Generously.”
‘...that’s reassuring, ma’am.’ Alger thought bitterly.
“Then, Mr. Hanged Man,” Madam Justice broke in, once again being the most merciful person in the room. She had chosen to ignore the recent memory loss by reading the atmosphere. Had she needed to know, she would have. “I will explain what you need to know about the dream process. Then, when you find a suitable timeframe, we will make the necessary arrangements for you to enter the dream. If that is acceptable to you?”
“Of course.” Alger agreed, suddenly recalling his need to return to the ship—something he’d completely forgotten in the heat of the conversation. “If everything is finished for now, I will take my leave.”
Madam Magician rose from her seat and, as the Angel who had taken over transportation for the Tarot Club after Mr. World, walked over to Mr. Hanged Man. Alger also rose slowly and, before following Madam Magician, pressed his right hand to his left chest and bowed slightly.
“Praise the Fool.”
"Praise the Fool."
...
On the Blue Avenger, finally managing to be alone in the captain’s cabin, Alger leaned his back against the door. His left hand slowly rose, a familiar coldness spreading across his wrist as the gray script reappeared before his eyes.
‘Sequence 0,
The Fool’
A coldness reminiscent of the fog.
Not freezing. Not biting. A soft and sweet coldness.
Like Mr. Fool’s fingers.
A reassuring familiarity.
A feeling that instantly loosened the knot of distress in Alger’s chest.
Alger’s right hand rose slowly, curling around his left wrist. His fingertips lingered upon the mark of Mr. Fool.
The mark that tethered his soul to Mr. Fool’s.
He traced it with a haunting softness, mirroring the way Mr. Fool himself once had. It was a touch born of pure reverence, a silent prayer of worship.
As if that very gesture, repeated across different moments, would become the thread that binds them. As if, through it, he might finally feel 'Him'.
As if he were feeling 'Him' even now.
Cold. Yet burning with a strange warmth. Distant, yet hauntingly near. Not truly there—and yet, 'He' was. As if 'He' had never truly left.
Damn the risks.
He was going into that dream.
Damn them all to the depths.
Mr. Fool was his soulmate, and Alger had no intention of ignoring this feeling he was experiencing for the first time in his life.
Mingrui wouldn't act the way the Angel of Time had mentioned. However, if he were to wake up and lose his emotions, then that was a... high probability.
Damn all the probabilities.
One thing was certain. Alger loved 'Him'.
Would Mr. Fool bring about his end? Kill him?
He was not prone to self-sacrifice. He would not offer himself up as a sacrificial lamb.
Yet, on that day, he had seen enough to truly know him. He had glimpsed the man, Zhou Mingrui, dwelling beneath the mask of Mr. Fool.
He had recognized the man who simply wished to return home—the one who accepted suffering as the price for protecting others.
He had witnessed the flickering embers of humanity within a god who risked losing it all.
He was not like the other gods.
If He were to lose His emotions... perhaps. But even if His feelings withered away, the memories of His humanity would never fade.
Alger wanted to believe in this.
He wanted that humanity to endure.
He wanted Mr. Fool to remain, forever, as Zhou Mingrui.
He would awaken his Lord. The rest? The rest would be after He woke up.
“See you soon, Mr. Fool."