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Chapter 5: Recieving a golden finger
Lord of The Mysterious Realms

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    Correctly translated i hope it will help ( using Gemini pro)

    Lord of the Enigmatic Realm

    Chapter 3

    **Author:** Salted Fish Immortal (咸鱼咸鱼仙)

    ---

    "May I take a look at these bowls?"

    He suddenly turned and asked the black-robed figure. Receiving no response, he simply reached out and picked up an empty bowl from the table. Bowls containing liquid couldn't be touched; the moment one made contact, they would be compelled to drink from it uncontrollably.

    Under Barnard's astonished gaze, Jenkins gently ran his fingers over the bowl's exterior. He confirmed his suspicion: the object was indeed made of wood. The "gold" he had perceived was merely a visual illusion.

    Although he had touched the bowls twice before, those were split-second, life-and-death moments. Jenkins hadn't had the luxury to notice such an insignificant tactile detail. But now, in the quiet, the discrepancy was glaringly obvious.

    *Am I hallucinating?*

    A nagging feeling told him this was a crucial detail. Jenkins pondered silently, not daring to ask Barnard rashly.

    *No, the influence of that octopus wore off long ago; this isn't a malicious hallucination. But why couldn't Mr. Barnard see it? What's the difference between us? Is it because I'm a transmigrator?*

    This thought immediately brought the legendary "golden finger" cheat to mind.

    *What is this, an automatic beautification filter cheat?* he joked to himself, trying to ease his tension. It worked somewhat. Jenkins felt he was on the verge of grasping the thread of truth.

    *Could it be that I'm seeing a so-called magical aura? No, whether magic even exists in this world is another matter.*

    He shifted uneasily on the wooden stump and continued his train of thought:

    *Assuming this is a hint from my 'cheat,' could this be the legendary **[Eye of Truth]**?*

    With this in mind, he focused his gaze on the bowls again, hoping to spot new clues, but it was to no avail.

    Enough time had been wasted. Any further hesitation would surely lead to Barnard misunderstanding his intentions.

    Taking a deep breath of the stale air, Jenkins made one final attempt. He raised his right hand, lightly tapped his temple, and told himself inwardly: *You are using a superpower. Your eyes are extraordinary.*

    This time, the sensation was entirely different. It felt as though a cool stream washed into his slightly swollen eyes, making the luminescence on the wooden bowls undeniably clear.

    Simultaneously, Barnard, the black-robed figure, and the candle on the table all lit up.

    The former radiated seven differently colored specks of light, while the black-robed figure was enveloped in a hazy gray. Only the candle glowed with a vibrant, life-affirming green.

    The green strictly emanated from the seeping wax; the candle's flame itself remained a dim yellow.

    *Eye of Truth?*

    Suppressing his wild ecstasy, Jenkins maintained his tense outward expression.

    *Excellent. This extra layer of radiance is indeed a supernatural aura. I won't worry about why I could only see the bowls earlier; the way out is right in front of me.*

    He stared at the emerald-green candle, recalling the earlier introduction: *Green represents healing.*

    *Let's gamble. Win, and it's clubs and models... though I suppose there aren't any clubs even if I do win.*

    Reaching out, Jenkins did something no one expected: he picked off a small piece of solidified wax from the table and tossed it straight into the nearest bowl. Before the liquid could even splash, Jenkins lifted the bowl and downed it.

    *Nothing happened!* he cheered internally, simultaneously announcing the result to Barnard: "It's pure water!"

    At that exact moment, the boarded-up door burst open, scattering planks across the floor. No one could see the scenery outside; there was only a blinding white light, identical to the one that had brought them here.

    "We can leave!" Barnard stood up excitedly, finally remembering to write the words down for Jenkins to see.

    Jenkins stood up excitedly too, but his smile gradually faded. He sat back down.

    "Wait."

    Licking his lips, Jenkins looked at the remaining bowls on the table.

    "Oh, right," Barnard wrote down a few words, gesturing for Jenkins to read them aloud.

    "Where is our reward?" he read softly.

    "Bowl," the black-robed figure's grating, eerie voice sounded once more after a long silence.

    Barnard gleefully reached out with both hands, but found he could only lift one bowl. He was satisfied enough and gestured for Jenkins to hurry. The young man, however, stared into the air as if weighing a monumental decision.

    "Wait." He finally made up his mind. "Since these bowls contain rewards, why not test all the liquids?"

    Horror washed over Barnard's face. He hastily scribbled, "Are you crazy? The rest are highly likely to be poisonous. How are you going to test them?"

    "The candle is probably the antidote," he explained softly. But Barnard clearly didn't believe him and wrote, "Think carefully. That might have just been a coincidence; you might have just happened to pick up pure water. Kid, our luck has been extremely good. Don't let greed swallow your reason."

    It wasn't that Barnard was too conservative; he simply couldn't see the radiant colors Jenkins saw. Faced with a ninety-nine percent chance of death, naturally, he wouldn't act so "bravely."

    *Maybe it really is a coincidence. But since I've come to this world, how can I live a spectacular life without a little courage?*

    With this thought, a bright smile spread across Jenkins' face. He reached out, scraped off a large chunk of solidified wax from the table, broke it into four small pieces, and dropped them into the remaining liquids.

    Without checking Barnard's expression, Jenkins picked up the four bowls one by one and downed them in rapid succession. The *clack-clack-clack* of the bowls hitting the table echoed continuously.

    Barnard held his breath, not daring to exhale as he watched Jenkins' insane stunt.

    A moment later, Jenkins sighed. "All four bowls were pure water."

    Barnard nodded frantically, urging Jenkins to take a bowl and leave immediately.

    *Too greedy. Two people making ten choices, how could there be three rewards?* he thought with a hint of regret. He reached for a bowl at random but couldn't move it; it felt as though it was glued to the table.

    Before he could voice his question, the black-robed figure, who had been sitting still, moved.

    He stood up and, while the two men froze in place, pointed at the candle.

    "Take it."

    These were the first two words he had spoken as a phrase.

    Jenkins didn't react at first. It wasn't until an ecstatic Barnard shoved him that he finally realized what was happening and picked up the half-burnt candle.

    Then, without daring to look back, the two of them sprinted out into the light of the doorway, leaving the black-robed figure standing quietly in the darkness where the candle had once been.

    The black robe on his body slid uncontrollably toward the light at the door, as if an invisible man were wearing it. Beneath the clothes, a withered skeleton was revealed. It collapsed to the ground, shattering into bone fragments. A moment later, the bone dust thoroughly mixed with the identical dust on the floor.

    ---

    ### Section 7 | Chapter 6: A Lawful Gathering

    A blast of cold air crept up his back, but Jenkins was far more concerned with his churning stomach. Just before he could violently expel his dinner, he finally found his footing on solid ground.

    This was an unfamiliar, filthy alleyway. Garbage littered the ground, and the stench made his barely-settled stomach churn again. A stray cat hissed at him, baring its claws, before scurrying away along the shadows of the wall with something unrecognizable in its mouth.

    Jenkins stumbled to the wall, kicked away the trash, laid down some newspapers, and sat down. This was not the original location where he had entered the **[Enigmatic Realm]**. It seemed Barnard had left out some very important details.

    *I hope this is still Nolan City.*

    He looked up at the sky. A red and a blue moon hung quietly overhead amidst a canopy of stars. But he knew there were actually three moons in the sky. The final one was the entity Barnard worshipped, representing the Orthodox God of May—the **[Lightless Moon]**.

    Looking down at his hands, holding a partially burnt candle in his right hand was normal, but... why were his sleeves black?

    It finally hit him: he was wearing the very black robe that belonged to the mysterious figure in the Enigmatic Realm!

    *When did this...*

    Before he could even process it, light footsteps echoed from the other end of the alley. It was a deliberately suppressed tread; if the alley weren't so dead quiet, Jenkins would never have heard it.

    There was nowhere to hide. The alley was flanked by the rear walls of residential buildings, which explained the source of the garbage—tossed straight out of the windows. The bare brickwork was scribbled with chaotic symbols. Besides the rusted steam pipes in the corners, the dark yellow stains looked suspiciously like urine. The best option right now would be to bury himself in the trash pile, but Jenkins decided that was a hard pass.

    In that brief moment of hesitation, the owner of the footsteps appeared.

    He was also wearing a black robe, hugging the shadows of the wall as he jogged with quick, small steps, before crashing directly into Jenkins.

    The robed man clearly hadn't noticed someone hiding in the shadows. He grabbed the wall, narrowly avoiding a fall, while Jenkins broke into a cold sweat.

    *Why is he walking so fast?*

    The two remained locked in a tense standoff, neither speaking. Jenkins tried to make out the man's features, only to realize the hood of his robe was specifically designed with an extended brim.

    "Are you here for the gathering too?" The black-robed man finally spoke, his raspy voice clearly a fake pitch.

    *Gathering? What is he talking about?*

    Driven by some inexplicable impulse, Jenkins nodded. "Yes."

    To his shock, he realized his own voice sounded just as bizarre—like a young boy speaking in a high-pitched squeak. At the exact same moment, he noticed something wrong with his shadow on the ground. The silhouette cast behind him was that of a fat man wearing a pointed hat and a mask!

    *There's something wrong with this robe!*

    He realized it instantly, just as the mysterious man spoke again.

    "You're here far too early. That's very dangerous!"

    With that, the man sat down against the wall, just like Jenkins, and remained motionless and silent.

    *Where the hell did I end up? Is this some gang's black market deal?*

    He thought frantically, trying to concoct an excuse to slip away. But things were going from bad to worse. Over the next five minutes, several more strangely dressed individuals trickled into the alley from both sides. There were no mirrors here, so Jenkins had no idea what he currently looked like, but every newcomer would pause to scrutinize him for a moment.

    With the hurried arrival of the last masked figure, the group—who had been sitting or crouching—stood up and gathered together. Jenkins had no choice but to join them. He did a quick mental count: including himself, there were seven people.

    "Who is he?" asked the last person to arrive, pointing at Jenkins. His voice was calm—so calm it barely sounded human.

    "Mr. Hood invited him," a woman replied in a sharp, thin voice, though she carefully kept the volume low.

    "Not me!" The man who had bumped into Jenkins earlier panicked. "He was already here when I arrived. Wasn't it one of you..."

    Before he could finish, the group scattered. One of them didn't even look back, diving straight into the shadows at the far end of the alley. The remaining five simply watched in tense apprehension.

    "Gentlemen."

    Jenkins knew he had to say something. These people looked even more terrified than he was. This also piqued his interest. The guy who just ran away seemed to have literally melted into the shadows. *A supernatural ability group?*

    "I was merely passing through this city and happened to hear about this gathering by chance, which is why I am here."

    He deliberately translated the common tongue of the Kingdom of Fidictley into Chinese in his head, then translated it back literally, ensuring his accent and grammar sounded incredibly bizarre.

    "Heard by chance?" the last arrival asked.

    "Yes, due to a minor ability of mine," he shrugged and replied vaguely. The cautious group didn't challenge him. It seemed this really was a secret assembly of a supernatural organization.

    But judging by the lack of movement in his shadow, his disguised "fat body" hadn't actually shrugged at all.

    "Can we trust him?"
    "No, he might be an Enforcer from the Orthodox Church of Nolan City."
    "You're joking. Why would the Enforcers bother us? We just didn't register because we don't want to expose our abilities. That isn't illegal."
    "He could also be an evil cultist who hunts the Bestowed. I heard..."
    "If you're so scared of danger, why don't you leave?"
    "Hmph. The one who just left obviously had a guilty conscience. Next time we meet, we should change the rules—whoever runs away is the problem."

    The five people conversed rapidly in hushed tones, but ultimately, they only reached the conclusion that: "We haven't committed any crimes, and private gatherings aren't illegal."

    Finally, the man who had bumped into Jenkins—"Mr. Hood"—stepped forward.

    "Sir, we welcome new members to our gathering, but you must prove that you are a Bestowed with a clean background."

    *Bestowed?*

    That was probably what this world called users of supernatural abilities.
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    Pioneer Voyager
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    Author or translator needs to improve writing quality
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