If it weren’t for prior knowledge, anyone would see it as some small vendor’s warehouse.
The surrounding was bustling with voices, vendors of various skin colors were hawking strange wares.
A green-skinned Goblin held up a Crystal Ball that would automatically change color, promoting its "prophetic function" in a shrill voice;
Next to him, a Half-beastman blacksmith showcased weapons still steaming, the hammering sounds thunderous along the street.
But strangely, this bustling crowd seemed completely oblivious to the recently descended aircraft, nor did they notice the two people stepping out of it.
Their gazes would naturally glide past this area, as if it didn’t exist at all.
Even if someone inadvertently looked in this direction, their eyes would become vacant and bewildered, then turn elsewhere, as if nothing had just happened.
Ron nodded, activating the Hermit’s Knowledge for deeper Perception.
In his upgraded Perception, the building was surrounded by countless layers of recognition barriers, like a complex Russian nesting doll.
The outermost layer was "Existence Forgetting"—making people subconsciously ignore this place;
The middle was "Memory Blurring"—even if noticed, it would quickly be forgotten;
The innermost layer was "Cognitive Rejection"—from the depths of thought, resisting the existence of this place.
A woman carrying a basket of fruits walked straight past Ron, almost bumping into him, yet she continued on, completely unaware.
"Master, it’s hard to imagine the most mysterious vault is right here."
Eve adjusted her hair accessories, her violet eyes filled with tension.
Those gem-inlaid hairpins sparkled under the sunlight, a testament to her carefully prepared attire for the day:
"Sometimes I feel the choice of this location by the ancient King of Absurdity was full of malicious whimsy."
"The most dangerous places are often the safest."
He said thoughtfully, while activating the Eye of Time to observe the minute distortions in space:
"Moreover, since the King of Absurdity is named ’absurdity,’ making such unconventional choices isn’t strange.
If he had indeed built a solemn and imposing Divine Hall, that would be surprising."
Eve took a deep breath, walking toward the seemingly ordinary wooden door.
The door panel even had a faded notice stuck on it, with crooked handwriting saying "Beware of vicious dogs inside, please stay away."
But the moment her hand touched the doorknob, Ron clearly felt an unfathomable pressure emanating from within the building.
It wasn’t hostility, but some existence beyond understanding was "observing."
As if a pair of unimaginably ancient eyes were judging the visitors through the veil of time and space.
Opening the door, inside was a seemingly normal cafe.
Indeed, it was an actual cafe.
A genuinely ordinary cafe.
Warm yellow lights spilled like gold, finely crafted rosewood tables and chairs were neatly arranged, and the air was thick with the rich aroma of ground coffee beans.
In a corner, a gramophone played soothing melodies, while a few patrons sat quietly at their places, speaking softly among themselves.
Several patrons were engaging in hushed conversations, their voices gentle as feathers brushing past ears.
Everything was so cozy and pleasant, so... normal.
The only problem was—everyone here had upside-down heads.
Not merely inverted, but anatomically completely upside-down.
Their necks twisted at angles defying physiology, with faces toward the ground and the back of their heads facing the sky.
Yet they behaved as if unconcerned, even successfully lifting their coffee cups.
Except the liquid flowed upward.
"Welcome!"
An enthusiastic, head-down waiter greeted them, his neck twisted at an unsettling angle.
His face bore a bright smile, but due to the inverted head, the smile appeared incredibly eerie:
"What would you like? Today’s specials are ’Melancholy Coffee’ and ’Exciting Tea.’
We also have ’Nostalgic Milkshake’ and ’Expectant Juice,’ all crafted from the freshest emotions."
Eve seemed well-prepared for the scene, calmly saying, "We want to enter the vault."
"Oh! The vault!"
The waiter excitedly clapped his hands, but due to the inverted anatomy, the gesture resembled stomping.
His face continued to bear a bright smile, but the inversion made it appear extraordinarily eerie:
"Please follow me!"
The other patrons in the cafe paused their conversations, turning their inverted faces toward them:
"Guests going to the vault again! Truly a rare occasion!"
"When was the last time someone went to the vault?"
"Probably yesterday... or tomorrow?"
"Time isn’t easily determined here."
The waiter pointed to an oil painting of a sunflower on the wall:
"Please proceed this way! Mr. Sunflower will verify your identity."
Ron observed the painting carefully.
The oil-painting technique was quite exquisite, each petal of the sunflower vividly lifelike, with bold, expansive strokes, as if about to sway in the breeze.
But in the view of Extraordinary Recognition, the sunflower radiated a strong life force, evidently more than a mere art piece.
Eve walked over, clearing her throat at the sunflower:
"I am the Heir of the Crown Clan, Eve Saint Manzhi."