Mystery: The Silver Key

Chapter 1 I'm here~

"Ouch~, my head hurts so much, it feels like I was run over by a tire on the road..."

In the flickering candlelight, a person with dried blood on their face sat up from among the shards of mirror on the floor, looked around the strange yet inexplicably familiar room, and fell silent.

"When...when did my house become so dilapidated?"

"Hiss~"

As soon as he finished speaking, a sudden throbbing pain shot through his head, and fragmented memories flooded his mind, causing him so much pain that he almost collapsed back to the ground.

Cyril Glenn... A history student at Backlund University who will graduate in a month... A member of the World Truth Society... A follower of the god of steam and machinery... A mystical enthusiast whose dream is to become a great artist.

The family is fairly well-off, with enlightened parents, a very talented twin brother, and a married sister.

"Wait... Backlund University? Backlund! The Backlund from Loen? The troubled Backlund?"

"And the belief in the god of steam and machinery, that's confirmed. This is the mysterious world that's so unfriendly to transmigrators, ranking among the top three."

"Is this some kind of absurd thing? I'm a loyal reader, I don't criticize or hate, so why did I suddenly transmigrate here?"

"My life is young, handsome, and rich! More importantly, I've only just graduated and am starting to enjoy it."

The young man sitting on the ground suddenly stopped complaining, staring blankly at the ceiling above his head. The dried blood on his face started flowing again, and in the blink of an eye, he became a blood-soaked figure.

He was completely unaware of this, staring blankly at the ceiling with an empty, numb gaze, his eyes strangely reflecting a constantly distorting and changing starry sky.

He saw an eye, an eye that looked down upon the world!

It—no, He—was staring at Himself, staring at Himself with anger, doubt, and greed; He wanted to devour Himself.

An inexplicable fear brought the "blood man" back to his senses. He stiffly withdrew his gaze, not daring to look up again, but this could not stop the gaze from the "eyes that overlook the world." He and the "blood man" were still staring at each other.

No, this can't go on. We must ask for help, we must ask the gods of this world for help.

The thought of calling for help had barely crossed his mind when his body instinctively tapped his chest three times and chanted a familiar name:

"Great God of Steam and Machinery, you are the embodiment of essence, the protector of craftsmen, and the radiance of technology."

"The great god of steam and machinery..."

After repeating it twice, he finally restrained the body's instinct to pray to its own faith and began to recite the names of more great beings:

"A fool who does not belong to this era, a mysterious ruler above the gray fog, the king of yellow and black who holds the reins of good fortune."

"Goddess of the Night, more sublime than the stars, more enduring than eternity, you are the Crimson Lord, the Mother of Secrets, the Queen of Calamity and Fear, the Lord of Sleep and Silence."

"Adam!"

"I am here."

The air suddenly became still, all the strange phenomena disappeared, the eyes looking down on the mortal world, the abstract and distorted starry sky, the boiling voice in his mind, and the knowledge trying to burst out of his head.

The bloodstains on the "blood man" suddenly disappeared, revealing a somewhat youthful and handsome face. His eyes also regained their clarity, becoming calm and peaceful, as if he had undergone a spiritual cleansing.

He turned around, somewhat relaxed yet still wary, and nodded to the blond priest behind him who wore a warm smile.

Good evening, Mr. Adam.

The priest, dressed in a simple white robe, with a thick, light blond beard that covered the lower half of his face, and golden eyes as clear and innocent as a baby's, smiled and nodded gently at him. His tone was gentle, inspiring no hostility or wariness.

"Good evening, Mr. Sir Ryan, or Mr. Lee?"

The "blood man," now calm again, remained silent for a moment, then exhaled a long breath and said:

"Just call me Cyril. Although Li En is not the same as Cyril, in this world, I am him."

"A reasonable choice." The blond priest nodded with a smile, then his tone suddenly turned serious:

How do you view the world?

"Is it a book, a story, a grand and elaborate theatrical performance, or a low-dimensional, strange world filled with despair?"

Cyril kept trying to come up with the right words in his mind, but when he saw those clear, innocent golden eyes like those of a baby, he suddenly gave up.

He didn't want to lie to the other person; he shouldn't deceive the benefactor who had just saved him, even though the answer to this question might determine his future fate.

After a brief moment of hesitation, the white figure above his head that said "honesty" kicked the black figure that said "selfishness" away.

He then calmed down and answered in a firm and serious tone:

"To me before today, this was a wonderful story; to me now, it should be a real world, a time travel that is neither wonderful nor exciting."

"For me in the future, it will probably be a long journey to find my way home, well, if I can survive in this world surrounded by evil gods and outcasts."

Adam nodded slightly to him, his warm smile unchanged, his tone still calm and gentle:

"You possess an essence that transcends this world, one that is close to or even surpasses the essence of the ancient soul. As long as the original barrier remains intact, it will not be difficult for you to live in this world."

"Your nature allows you to ignore most of the pollution caused by the mysteries of this world, and you also have a warm and harmonious family that can guarantee your normal life."

After hearing Adam's words, Cyril gave a wry laugh: "So, what I just encountered was only that tiny fraction?"

Adam nodded slightly: "You are a visitor from a higher dimension. You have shaken His old nature and brought Him an opportunity to go further."

Cyril paused for a moment, suddenly recalling a topic he had come across before: that readers like them were "high-dimensional observers" of the world described in the novel.

So, am I now a high-dimensional observer without power or authority?

He thought again of those eyes that had looked down upon the world, and fragments of information seemed to be drawn to him, spontaneously popping into his mind.

"A higher-dimensional observer, the master of dimensions, the embodiment of all illusions..."

Stop.

A commanding and imposing voice interrupted his mutterings, and when Cyril came to his senses, he looked at Adam, who was staring at him, with a somewhat unpleasant expression.

"Thank you again for your help, Mr. Adam."

Adam nodded without changing his expression, and then explained, "Because of symbolism and essence, your connection with Him is very close. Even with the original barrier, a connection can still be established with the consent of both parties."

I didn't agree either... Although I really wanted to complain, as a loyal reader of "Lord of Mysteries", Cyril also understood that at the level of the Old Ones, even if you just think about it in your mind, the other party can see or hear it.

Looking at Adam, whose expression had remained unchanged throughout, Cyril hesitated for a moment before asking:

"Mr. Adam, what should I do?"

Adam replied gently, "Become as strong as possible before the original barrier breaks. There can only be one 'higher-dimensional observer' in this universe. Your meeting and collision can only be delayed, not avoided."

Cyril: (⊙_⊙；)

Although I haven't finished watching the second movie yet, I roughly know that the cracked barrier above won't last until the prophesied end of the world.

Besides, I'm not Klein, who can become a god in three years and revert to his former self in ten. I can't do that.