L41.大法師日記

You paged through the diary of Foster, grandmaster of Bern. Its cover was tattered and worn.

Didn't they used to call Plague Forest Bern? You recalled a drunkard named Foster the Thirteenth and wondered if the book had something to do with him.

Bartender, pour me another drink... Foster murmured. He was already on the floor, drooling.

"I'm not drunk! The floor just looked soooo comfortable. You should try laying down - it's like a fluffy cement cloud." Foster hiccuped.

"Wasn't this notebook stolen a long time ago?" he asked, rubbing his eyes as he looked at the book.

"I've been telling people I'm a descendant of the grandmaster, but no one ever believes me."

"I tried to prove my ancestry with this notebook, but someone stole it from me."