The Terror of Option Chapter 1079 1079: 26 COI

Beneath the open window of Room 601, Lumian scaled the wall with his bare hands, aided by the protrusions, statues, and pipes. His descent was swift and steady, story after story, until he made a final leap and landed gracefully on the edge of Rue des Blouses Blanches. He grumbled under his breath, "Why am I forced to climb down from the sixth floor? I haven't done anything!"

Lumian slipped into the shadows and made his way towards Avenue du Marché.

In Room 601.

Franca cast a fleeting glance at the swaying window, adjusting her silk nightgown before approaching the slowly opening door, wearing a smile.

Dressed in a sequined red dress, Jenna stored away the spare key Franca had entrusted to her and entered the apartnt.

"Why are you here so early today?" Franca inquired, blocking Jenna's path to the window, her brow furrowed in confusion.

Jenna let out a sigh and replied, "Sothing happened to the band's six-stringed zither player. While it didn't affect my singing, it put everyone in a foul mood. The dance hall manager, René, asked to end the performance early and switch tonight's the to cheek-to-cheek dancing."

The cheek-to-cheek dance in the market district differed from the usual version. It involved intimate embraces and provocative movents between n and won on the dance floor. It was an exhilarating experience, but dance halls needed enough female dancers to organize it.

Attempting to find a topic of conversation, Franca asked, "What happened exactly?" She discreetly calculated the ti it would take for Lumian to descend to the first floor, all the while grumbling internally, Why is Muggle's brother a Hunter instead of an Assassin? Assassins can effortlessly leap from the sixth floor and land as light as a feather!

Jenna recounted the band mber's unfortunate incident and concluded, "Dammit, why do unlucky people always attract more misfortune?"

"Yes, even though the performance ended earlier than usual, it's still late. Going ho would be quite troubleso. I'll sleep at your place."

Given that Jenna lived far away from Avenue du Marché, she often sought refuge at Franca's whenever she perford late into the night at the dance hall. She even had a spare key.

Warehouse… porter… Recalling the information provided by her subordinate, Franca surmised that it must be related to the matter involving "Rat" Christo.

As she let out a sigh, contemplating how the innocent had lost their kin, Franca inwardly expressed her sorrow.

Brother 007 is incredibly efficient. I only inford him about the mirror people late last night, and the official Beyonders have already dealt with the anomaly before this evening.

Brother 007 was the code na of a man from the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society, a mber of an official organization in Trier. His rank seed quite high, and Franca had secret connections with many fellow researchers in Trier, often organizing private gatherings with them.

However, Franca knew that the matters involving the mirror people wouldn't end there. The special mirror world still existed, the mystery artifact that Gardner Martin smuggled into Trier remained, and the classic silver mirror in her possession persisted. If these elents weren't eliminated entirely, it would only solve the problem temporarily. Franca couldn't predict when similar anomalies would arise in the future.

Franca approached the classic-styled silver mirror, which allowed entry into the special mirror world, with caution and seriousness. She believed it held a secret related to the Demoness pathway.

"Why are you so quiet?" Jenna asked, extending her right hand and waving it in front of Franca.

Franca snapped back to reality and let out a sigh.

"I feel a bit sad upon hearing about their misfortune."

It was precisely because she didn't want to face the pain of countless innocents that she followed Lumian's suggestion and "handed over" the matter to the officials.

Jenna bypassed Franca and made her way to the guest room, intending to change into more comfortable attire.

"It was a bit stuffy," Franca quickly explained.

Jenna regarded her with suspicion.

"Why did you feel the need to explain?"

Ahem… Franca nearly choked on her own saliva.

Thankfully, Jenna didn't dwell on it too much. She entered the guest room and headed towards the washroom, carrying her nightgown and pajamas.

…

Once Lumian returned to Avenue du Marché, he began his rounds, starting with Unit 126, where "Black Scorpion" Roger resided. He approached the four mobsters disguised as beggars stationed at different entrances, far from their intended target. Lumian made a promise to each of them, guaranteeing 100 verl d'or by Monday.

That night, he struggled to find rest in Salle de Bal Brise. Occasionally, he would wake up, straining his ears for any signs of movent outside the window, hoping to catch the sound of hurried footsteps.

At dawn, while enjoying breakfast at the café and skimming through a newspaper, Louis ascended from the first floor and whispered in Lumian's ear, "Boss, Superintendent Everett requests your presence at the Valiant café, opposite the police headquarters, for a cup of coffee precisely at 10 a.m."

Superintendent Everett wants to et , the newly appointed leader of the Savoie Mob? Lumian remained relatively composed with the Mystery Prying Glasses in his possession.

He asked Louis, "Who else will be there?"

"Many," Louis responded in a hushed tone. "They say all the mob leaders from the market district will gather. The official voting begins today."

The voting would extend over three days.

Is that so… So they won't let us disrupt the National Convention election, it seems. I wonder if the Poison Spur Mob will attend? Lumian nodded and left Salle de Bal Brise at 9:15 a.m., making his way back to Auberge du Coq Doré.

In Room 207, he put on the Mystery Prying Glasses, experiencing the disorienting sensation of descending from great heights and burrowing into the ground.

Suppressing the urge to retch, Lumian retrieved a mirror and all his costics, busying himself with preparations.

He opted for subtle alterations, focusing on thickening his eyebrows, accentuating his cheekbones, and enhancing shadowy areas. The adjustnts created an impression that it was indeed Ciel and not soone else.

As soon as he finished his makeup, Lumian hastily set the mirror aside, unwilling to catch a glimpse of his reflection.

Shortly before 10 a.m., he arrived at the Valiant café and was promptly escorted to a private room by a waiter.

Upon entering, he imdiately recognized several familiar faces—Baron Brignais, adorned in formal attire with a top hat and pipe; Franca, sporting trousers, red boots, and a blouse; the towering "Giant" Simon; and the rchant-like figure of "Blood Palm" Black.

Seated in an armchair at the head of the table, Travis Everett, donning a black uniform, rose with a smile upon seeing Lumian enter.

"You must be Ciel, am I right?"

"Yes, Superintendent Everett," Lumian responded respectfully.

Franca, Baron Brignais, and the others, who had risen alongside Travis Everett, exchanged puzzled glances as they observed Lumian.

Franca's gaze averted in enlightennt as she recognized the golden-black hair. Baron Brignais, Giant Simon, and the rest gradually "realized" that it was Ciel.

Adjusting his black-frad glasses, Superintendent Everett's blue eyes glead as he half-praised Lumian and patted the recliner beside him.

"You've only been in the market district for less than three weeks, but you've already taken over Salle de Bal Brise. And you're so young. You're really outstanding.

"Sigh, the market district hasn't been peaceful for the past month."

He half-praised Lumian and patted a recliner beside him.

"Co, have a seat here.

"Let introduce you to the others."

When Lumian stood by Everett's side, the superintendent gestured toward a middle-aged man seated across the coffee table and spoke, "Roger, you're acquainted with him, aren't you?"

"Black Scorpion" Roger? Lumian directed his gaze at the middle-aged man.

Roger, dressed in formal attire with neatly combed black hair, had a slightly chubby face, and his deep-blue eyes resembled the vast sea.

"We're eting for the first ti," Lumian replied with a smile. He noticed a chilling gaze emanating from Black Scorpion.

Everett proceeded to introduce the individuals sitting beside Roger.

"Harman, Castina."

Upon entering the private room, Lumian had noticed only Harman among the few mbers of the Savoie Mob. The bald man's shining head was so eye-drawing that Lumian almost looked away, fearing that it might reflect his disguised appearance.

Upon closer inspection, Lumian recognized Harman's unique features—a prominent brow, a high nose bridge, and deep-set lips. He possessed the allure of a ruggedly handso individual. Even in a seated position, his imposing height was evident, complenting his dark breeches shirt splendidly.

Castina, petite and likely under 1.55 ters tall, appeared to be around 30 years old. She possessed curly auburn hair, brown eyes, a curvaceous figure that turned heads, and full lips.

"You should be familiar with Ciel from the Savoie Mob, right?" Everett introduced Ciel to Roger and the others.

Roger flashed a cold smile.

"Indeed, Superintendent. The impression he made on will never fade."

"Baldy" Harman's eyes brimd with hatred and cruelty.

Everett sighed and said, "We all reside in the market district. Only by coexisting peacefully can we secure a better future and greater wealth.

"If any conflicts arise, co to . I'll diate and arbitrate.

"Ciel, take this cup of coffee to Roger and hand over Salle de Bal Brise's profits for the next six months. The issue between Margot and Ait ends here. If anyone troubles you regarding these matters again, feel free to inform directly."

Lumian observed Roger, Harman, and Castina with a sense of amusent, realizing that their eyes held no rcy, only restrained coldness and malevolence.

Baron Brignais and the others remained silent, watching the scene unfold as though it were a spectacle. Franca shook her head at Lumian, signaling him not to act recklessly.

Lumian bent down and picked up the cup of coffee from the table.

Suddenly, he raised his hands and flung the contents of the cup at "Black Scorpion" Roger.

Reacting swiftly, Roger evaded the liquid, colliding with the coffee table. Harman and Castina sprang to their feet.

Simultaneously, Lumian pointed at "Black Scorpion" Roger and cursed, "F*ck you! Are you disregarding the Superintendent's words? Playing dumb, are we? If you don't desire peace, speak up. I, Ciel, shall await you at Salle de Bal Brise!

"The look in your eyes tells vengeance is on your mind!"

How brazen… Franca had not anticipated Lumian's audacity.

-x-X-x-

Travis Everett concealed his emotions behind the black-frad glasses, rendering them inscrutable.

Nevertheless, he made no attempt to halt Lumian's actions. It was as though he had transford into a re observer.

Baron Brignais, "Blood Palm" Black, and the rest were taken aback by Lumian's reaction. They couldn't fathom his audacity to splash coffee at "Black Scorpion" Roger in front of the superintendent and sabotage the diation.

In particular, Baron Brignais felt as though he was encountering his forr subordinate, now colleague, for the very first ti.

Is he far more unruly and reckless than I had anticipated?

Does he refuse to accept any grievances and is unwilling to pay any price?

Although he attempted to shift the bla onto "Black Scorpion" Roger and the others, it was evident to anyone with a modicum of sense and perception that Lumian was the instigator of the conflict, driven by a strong will of his own.

Clearly, he had no intention of reconciliation. He sought only an excuse to undermine Superintendent Everett's proposal.

Is this not a blatant slap in Superintendent Everett's face?

The superintendent wielded considerable influence in the market district. A slight embellishnt in reporting to higher authorities, or rather, stating the unvarnished truth, would draw the attention of official Beyonders and dismantle all our enterprises, including the leaders of the Savoie Mob!

Incensed, "Baldy" Harman denied Lumian the opportunity to shatter the coffee cup on his boss. He lunged forward, stooped down, grasped the coffee table's edge, hoisted it, and flung it at the detestable individual.

Cups clattered to the ground, splintering into shards. Lumian deftly evaded the projectiles, swiftly drawing his black revolver from beneath his arm. He trained it on Harman amid the cacophonous crash of objects and the ensuing chaos.

"Baldy" Harman chuckled, a product of his extre rage.

"You country hog, do you spurn Superintendent Everett's gracious offer of diation?

"Very well then, our Poison Spur Mob shall entertain you until one of us is vanquished from this ga!

"Go ahead, fire away. Your audacity and lack of respect towards Superintendent Everett know no bounds. If you possess such ability, then pull the trigger!"

Were it not for the impending election and the stringent surveillance imposed by officials, the Poison Spur Mob would have long seized an opportunity to assassinate Ciel!

In that instant, "Black Scorpion" Roger rose once more. Black flas materialized within his clenched fists, only to dissipate swiftly.

He was reluctant to unveil his Beyonder powers in the presence of Superintendent Everett.

"Short-legged Candlestick" Castina also fixed her gaze on Lumian, poised to strike if he refused to relent.

Upon hearing "Baldy" Harman's retort and provocation, Lumian chuckled.

Bang!

Lumian squeezed the trigger, unleashing a yellow bullet hurtling directly towards "Baldy" Harman's skull.

His reflexes barely saved him. Harman crouched down just in ti, his eyes widening in alarm.

The bullet grazed his glistening scalp and careened off, ricocheting into the adjacent washroom with a tallic clang.

In an instant, all the mob leaders sprang to their feet. "Black Scorpion" Roger and "Short-legged Candlestick" Castina fixated on Lumian, preparing to retaliate.

Undeterred, Lumian remained resolute. He lowered his gun and aid it once more at "Baldy" Harman, his gaze devoid of any emotion.

"Enough!"

At that very mont, Superintendent Everett, who had been calmly seated, spoke up.

The indescribable authority emanating from him, combined with his esteed position, compelled Lumian to instinctively halt his finger from pulling the trigger.

Seizing the opportunity, "Baldy" Harman shifted his position and rose to his feet.

Though the others maintained their combative stance, the palpable tension that had lingered dissipated.

Lanting his missed chance, Lumian reluctantly holstered his revolver and turned to face Everett.

"Superintendent, I am willing to comply with your request, but they don't seem inclined to do so."

Everett's eyes flickered behind his black-frad spectacles. Standing up, he surveyed the room.

"We will address your conflict after the election.

"For the next three days, I expect all of you to conduct yourselves properly. Fail to do so, and you shall make an enemy out of . Trust , that's a predicant you won't be able to handle."

Although Everett's voice carried depth, his tone remained calm, devoid of anger or arrogance. Instead, a hint of sincerity perated his words.

Yet, those who had resided in the market district for more than two years recalled a term: the "Valiant Mob."

Two years prior, the Valiant Mob held a similar status to the Savoie Mob in the market district. However, due to their repeated defiance and disrespect towards Superintendent Everett, they were ruthlessly eradicated in a joint operation conducted by the authorities. The subsequent rise of the Poison Spur Mob was partly due to the power vacuum left behind in the district's underworld.

Now, only the Valiant café stood as a testant to the existence of such a mob.

The leaders of the Savoie Mob, the Poison Spur Mob, and the other two dium-sized gangs fell into silence for a few seconds before responding to Superintendent Everett's words. They expressed their commitnt to restrain their subordinates and ensure that the election proceeded without disruption.

Superintendent Everett's gaze swept across their faces. Without uttering another word, he strode towards the exit of the private room.

As he disappeared beyond the door, "Black Scorpion" Roger, "Baldy" Harman, and "Short-legged Candlestick" Castina cast Lumian cold glances before departing from the café.

The remaining gang leaders didn't linger, leaving only the Savoie Mob in the confines of the private room.

Baron Brignais took a leisurely puff from his pipe and addressed Lumian, "You acted too impulsively back there."

Lumian offered a faint smile in response and replied, "I have been awaiting an opportunity like that. Unfortunately, I couldn't seize it to incite the conflict."

Observing the puzzled expressions on the faces of "Giant" Simon, "Blood Palm" Black, and the others, Lumian calmly elaborated, "We have already made two attempts, and the Poison Spur Mob chose to endure. Baron, as you have rightly pointed out, they harbor a significant problem, and they await their chance. I believe that opportunity will present itself soon.

"If we fail to incapacitate the Poison Spur Mob before then, we shall face their unhinged retaliation. And when that mont arrives, none of you will be able to escape.

"Just a mont ago, there were only three mbers of the Poison Spur Mob present, while we numbered five. Red Boots, your strength is comparable to that of Black Scorpion. With my assistance, you can surely overpower him. Baron, Simon, Black, is it conceivable that you cannot handle Baldy and Short-legged Candlestick? One of you might even be able to impede Superintendent Everett.

"As long as the Poison Spur Mob dares to strike back, we shall eliminate them all right here!"

"Rat" Christo had received instructions from Superintendent Everett the previous night that he was not to be invited today.

Baron Brignais, "Blood Palm" Black, and their comrades found Ciel's words reasonable, yet a deep-seated fear for this individual arose within their hearts.

He wasn't bluffing. He genuinely desired to eliminate "Baldy" Harman and the others!

He was too crazy and extre!

He possessed the audacity to commit any act without hesitation!

"But this is tantamount to slapping Superintendent Everett in the face. The repercussions will be exceedingly troubleso." "Blood Palm" Black shook his head.

Franca shared the sa concern. She wished to caution Lumian that such a course of action would render him unwelco in the market district. He might even end up with another wanted poster.

However, recognizing that the other leaders were present and unable to reveal her true friendship with Lumian, Franca sealed her lips.

A quizzical smile played on Lumian's lips as he inquired, "Wasn't Superintendent Everett killed by the Poison Spur Mob?"

Lunatic… This notion raced through everyone's minds.

Baron Brignais, gently stroking his mahogany-colored pipe, chid in, "It's nearly impossible to conceal that from official Beyonders. It's rely an excuse."

"In that case, let it go. Bla everything on a lunatic like . At worst, I'll depart from the market district. I trust the Boss will arrange another task for once this storm blows over," Lumian calmly remarked, a serene smile gracing his face.

This was indeed a fragnt of his genuine thoughts.

Mr. K's mission revolved around earning Gardner Martin's trust, not running Salle de Bal Brise or establishing a foothold in the market district!

If his provocation had genuinely enraged "Black Scorpion" Roger and his accomplices, Lumian believed that Franca would surely co to his aid. With one of the Savoie Mob's leaders on his side, the others wouldn't hesitate to act. When the ti ca, united in strength, they stood a high chance of eliminating the remaining three leaders of the Poison Spur Mob.

Once he unraveled the Poison Spur Mob's sche, Gardner Martin would undoubtedly appreciate Lumian's daring and unorthodox approach in eradicating hidden threats. Even if he lost Salle de Bal Brise and was compelled to "escape" once more, he would rely find sanctuary elsewhere in Trier and continue serving Gardner Martin until he gained his complete approval.

Furthermore, it was advantageous for Lumian. If the Poison Spur Mob finalized their preparations, he would be their primary target for revenge. Failing to address the issue beforehand would only heighten the danger he faced. In the future, even if Mada Moon birthed another group, Lumian wouldn't fret. Today, Louis Lund would likely be present in the market district. By temporarily suppressing the deaths of "Black Scorpion" Roger and his cronies, creating a fa?ade of tranquility, Lumian could patiently await his target at 126 Avenue du Marché.

These individuals weren't parliantary candidates whose demise would incite an uproar.

After a few monts of silence, Baron Brignais approached the door and issued a reminder, "Superintendent Everett has probably marked you. There will be considerable trouble after the election."

Lumian responded with a smile, "Perhaps he will mysteriously vanish one day."

Having said that, Lumian calmly endured the mildly apprehensive gazes of "Giant" Simon and his comrades.

You see, having laid the groundwork, anything I utter now will convince them all.

…

At 3:15 p.m., Lumian arrived at Quartier du Jardin Botanique in a public carriage. Once again, he beheld Mason Café, housed in a beige four-story building adorned with lush green plants entwined on its outer walls.

Passing through a sheltered walkway upheld by pillars, he entered the interior, enveloped by dark-green walls and expansive windows. Settling into the familiar Booth D, he removed his wide-brimd round hat.

"A cup of Intis coffee," he instructed the waitress and patiently waited.

-x-X-x-

The titular coffee was rich and aromatic, a perfect match for the creamy cupcake. Though Lumian's focus was elsewhere, he still appreciated their beauty.

The mont the clock struck 3:30 p.m., a familiar soft female voice reached him from the booth behind.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Lumian Lee."

"Good afternoon, Mada Susie," Lumian responded, concealing his surprise.

While Lumian didn't intentionally observe the custors entering Mason Café, his Hunter instincts allowed him to maintain awareness of his surroundings.

When he had arrived at the café at 3:18 p.m., Cabin D had been deserted. No one entered from 3:15 to 3:30 p.m.

And yet, here was Mada Susie, appearing silently behind him, in the very spot behind Booth D!

How mystical and bizarre was this!

Susie's voice gently inquired once more, "How did you feel after your last treatnt?"

Lumian didn't hold back and responded simply, "I felt much better than before. At least I could release my emotions."

"That's a good thing. Suppressing your feelings and bottling up your emotions will only exacerbate your ntal problems and lead you down a self-destructive path until your innate will to live is completely overwheld," Susie comnted in a calm and soothing tone, confirming Lumian's transformation.

A hint of a smile laced her words.

"Let's have a conversation first. We'll discuss all the things you've encountered in the past two weeks. Feel free to choose what you believe you can and are willing to share."

Lumian knew he needed to calm himself and undergo further psychiatric treatnt as a foundation for unlocking more mories later. Hence, he offered no resistance. He chuckled wryly and said, "There's nothing I can't tell you. I've even shared that dream with you. Everything else can only be classified as minor secrets."

He paused for a mont and began with Charlie.

"There's an unlucky and dim-witted fellow at the motel I'm staying at…"

Lumian casually recounted the events of the past two weeks.

Gradually, his mind relaxed, as if he had returned to a ti before Cordu's destruction.

Aurore, who rarely ventured outside, would hear about everything that transpired in Cordu from him. He delighted in sharing it with his sister, even boasting about the successful pranks he had orchestrated.

As ti trickled away, Lumian's rigid posture softened as he sank into the plush sofa.

He refrained from delving into further details. Ti was limited, and he couldn't afford to waste it. He didn't touch upon the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society, Franca's true gender, or his suspicions regarding her motives for joining the Savoie Mob. He rely ntioned his encounter with a pen pal of Aurore's—a Sequence 7 Witch of the Demoness pathway, who happened to be in the sa mob.

Likewise, he provided only a brief ntion of performing a ritual and receiving an additional boon, without going into the specifics.

After recounting his experiences from the past two weeks, Lumian spoke in a self-deprecating tone, "I can't help but wonder if it's my own fault for stumbling upon so many Beyonder events in such a short span of ti. Sotis, I question why every human and dog in Trier seems to possess Beyonder powers."

For once, Susie didn't respond imdiately. After a few monts, she smiled and replied, "I can perceive that your ntal state has indeed improved compared to before."

"How can you tell?" Lumian didn't ntion the details of his tearful carriage ride upon seeing Aurore's obituary. He didn't believe that describing all of that was an accurate reflection of his ntal state.

Susie spoke in a gentle tone, "I can sense that you're reconstructing your social connections and beginning to form friendships."

"Friends?" Lumian asked, slightly amused. "Charlie, Jenna, Franca? Can they truly be called friends?"

They are re acquaintances!

Susie responded with a smile, "Friendship cos in various forms. Not all require deep connections. You simply need to ask yourself—when they face challenges that lie within your capabilities to solve, would you be willing to offer assistance? That will reveal if they can be considered your friends."

"It depends on the specific circumstances and the price I must pay. I'm not the type to go out of my way to help just anyone," Lumian muttered.

Susie didn't press further and explained, "For soone prone to self-destruction, a sign of their ergence from the quagmire is their willingness to forge new social bonds.

"Emperor Roselle—assuming he truly said it—once remarked that humans are the sum of their social relationships. When you no longer resist forming new connections, it signifies that you're no longer opposed to your own future.

"Of course, this is just one aspect. It's not everything."

Lumian fell silent for a mont before speaking again, "Mada Susie, there's sothing I'd like to ask you. I ntioned a series of coincidences that have befallen . Are they truly as Madam Magician suggested? Could they be partially influenced by Mid-Sequence Beyonders of the Spectator pathway?"

In contrast to the previous session, Susie appeared more at ease. She chuckled and remarked, "Are you attempting to divert the topic? Are you still resistant to such matters?

"Actually, one can discern it from certain details. You took the initiative to request the 'Red Boots' lady to enlighten you on mystical matters whenever she was available, but you never followed through. The sole visit you made was on the pretext of her repaying a favor. It suggests that you remain unwilling to establish a closer bond with her.

"That's natural. How can a patient recover after just one treatnt? You need not burden yourself…"

Susie tirelessly voiced her observations, gently pinpointing so of Lumian's current psychological issues.

"If it were the last ti, I wouldn't have been so forthright. It would have only bred resistance, causing you to close yourself off further. However, now you exhibit certain inclinations toward forging new social connections. This will allow you to gain clearer insights into your true self and facilitate your progress."

Having his underlying thoughts laid bare by Susie, Lumian's initial reaction was wariness, vigilance, and denial. Yet, Susie's composed deanor, non-aggressive analysis, and accurate understanding of the situation gradually eased his tension, enabling him to confront his deep-seated problems.

His body and mind gradually settled.

Susie refrained from prying further and addressed Lumian's inquiry.

"Madam Magician's explanation is not entirely incorrect, but it lacks specificity.

"For a Mid-Sequence Beyonder of the Spectator pathway to engineer a coincidence, they must employ face-to-face psychological cues or hypnosis. In other words, they need to be present around you, Baron Brignais, and his associates.

"The reason you didn't notice it and Baron Brignais remained oblivious is that Mid-Sequence Beyonders of the Spectator pathway possess an additional Beyonder power—Psychological Invisibility."

"Psychological Invisibility? How does it differ from regular invisibility?" Lumian inquired, perplexed.

Susie calmly elucidated, "Psychological Invisibility is not true invisibility. It rely prevents you from perceiving , even when I am standing right before you and nurous others have already witnessed my presence."

"Sounds very magical…" Lumian sighed with a sense of wonder. For so inexplicable reason, he felt as though Psychiatrists were all around him, yet he remained oblivious to their presence.

"This won't change even if you employ Spirit Vision. Your intuition for danger will not react until I am prepared to strike," Susie continued. "By comparison, a Shadow Ascetic's concealnt within shadows occasionally evokes the sensation of being watched by the darkness."

Lumian pressed, "Which pathway does Shadow Ascetic belong to?"

"Secrets Suppliant," Susie replied simply.

Secrets Suppliant pathway? Above Listener and below Shepherd, there's a Sequence known as Shadow Ascetic? This belongs to Mr. K's pathway… Occasionally, I sense soone observing in the surrounding darkness because of him or his subordinates. Combining this with Aurore's grimoires and Madam Magician's clues, Lumian felt a wave of enlightennt.

For the Secrets Suppliant pathway, Aurore had only noted down Sequence 9 Secrets Suppliant and Sequence 8 Listener.

Madam Magician appears to write a substantial amount, but it's actually just an outline without much detail. It's not as comprehensive as Mada Susie's explanation… Lumian mumbled curiously and asked, "Aren't you concerned that revealing your pathway's Beyonder powers to might harm you?"

Susie brushed off the question and continued, "If you're a High-Sequence Beyonder of the Spectator pathway, there's no need for such elaborate asures. Even if they're far away from you, they can subtly influence you, causing you to unknowingly follow their arrangents and create various coincidences.

"Though I too am a Spectator, I must still caution you, 'Beware of the Spectator!'"

High-Sequence Beyonder… Lumian was alard.

"So, you 'arranged' for the paperboy to deliver an outdated newspaper to ?"

Mada Susie is a High-Sequence Beyonder, a true demigod?

"It wasn't ," Susie said, feeling a tad embarrassed. "It was my companion."

Companion? Lumian recalled Madam Magician's initial suggestion and guessed, "The other Psychiatrist? He was here last ti too?"

"Yes," Susie candidly admitted. "Your condition is more serious, and I wasn't too confident, so I invited her along to assist . Yes, as a precautionary asure.

"In fact, she's here today as well. She's sitting across from you."

Across from ? Lumian glanced in surprise at the empty seat across the coffee table. Not only was there no one present, but there wasn't even an indentation from soone sitting there!

In the next instant, he heard a gentle female voice with a hint of a smile and a slightly brisk tone.

"Hello."

-x-X-x-

Lumian was taken aback, his eyes widening in surprise as he glanced at the vacant seat across from him. With a polite tone, he mustered, "Hello."

In that instant, a mory from his sister Aurore flashed through his mind. She had once ntioned an intriguing phrase: Expert consultation!

Although I'm not entirely surrounded by invisible Psychiatrists, there are two of them, and I can't detect them either… Lumian muttered inwardly.

The woman sitting opposite him fell silent, while Susie's voice assud a more relaxed and lighthearted tone.

"It seems the newspaper has left a lasting impression on you. Does that an it had a positive impact?"

"Yes," Lumian replied candidly.

He had reached a point where he could confront the emotional turmoil within him instead of burying it deep down. Otherwise, he would have tried to avoid any encounters with "Red Boots" Franca, as she invariably brought up Aurore.

Naturally, this evoked intense waves of emotion.

Susie skillfully redirected the conversation back to its original path.

"If you wish to further investigate any unusual coincidences that have occurred during this period and identify their underlying sources, I can assist you."

"I won't delve directly into your mories, but I can awaken them all and present them chronologically before your eyes. Of course, this excludes those hidden deep within the recesses of your subconscious. They pose too great a risk," Susie explained.

"Are you willing to give it a try?"

Lumian didn't hesitate for a mont.

"Yes."

Whenever he noticed any coincidences around him, he would occasionally recall his recent experiences and ticulously scrutinize the corresponding details. Now, he was rely shifting to a more effective approach.

"Lean back fully against the sofa, relax, and close your eyes…" Susie's gentle voice reached Lumian's ears unhurriedly.

Just as he adjusted his sitting position and prepared to calm his mind and close his eyes, a sudden "volcanic eruption" erupted within his thoughts.

This unexpected "attack" caught him off guard, leaving his subconscious unable to effectively shield him.

Magma and smoke burst forth like luminous specks, each containing a distinct scene.

The multitude of glowing dots arranged themselves chronologically, giving Lumian the sensation of watching a play with himself as the central character.

It unfolded in a blur, yet every detail remained vivid and complete.

As the temperature soared, Lumian's mind raced, threatening to release wisps of white smoke.

He witnessed each scene and recalled every detail, skillfully connecting them and searching for any abnormalities.

Lumian's eyes widened, and his facial features contorted in visible distress.

The mory that should have been present was now a void!

In that mont, a gentle female voice resonated within his mind.

"Has it truly vanished, or have you forgotten or overlooked it?" spoke the lady seated across from him, her tone devoid of its previous cheerfulness.

Like a lightning bolt, it illuminated Lumian's mind, casting light into the darkest recesses beyond his subconscious.

Lumian's expression grew increasingly pained, and he couldn't help but bow his head as he struggled to say, "I-I see it, I see it…

"I was in conversation with the angel sealed within !

"H—His na is Termiboros!"

At last, Lumian recollected sothing that had slipped his mory.

The corruption contained within his left chest was, in essence, an angel who believed in Inevitability—Termiboros!

Initially, he had intended to seek guidance from Madam Magician on how to harness the angel's powers and avert any potential negative consequences, but he had completely forgotten about it.

"Is this the corruption sealed within your body?" Susie's reaction appeared unsurprised, her voice maintaining a calm deanor.

Lumian instinctively exhaled, his fingertips reaching his forehead, already dampened with cold sweat.

He truthfully replied, "Yes, He attempted to entice into aiding His escape from the seal, but I refused. And then, I simply forgot.

"This is truly… truly bizarre…"

Termiboros is undeniably sealed within my body and can't break free, yet I was unwittingly affected by Him!

"That's to be expected. One mustn't underestimate any angel, even when sealed," Susie offered an explanation to allay Lumian's imdiate apprehension.

The unknown was always the most terrifying.

She continued, "In ancient tis, angels were also referred to as subsidiary gods. This implies that They possess the essence of a deity. Even when sealed, They can exert a certain influence upon the external world through various ans.

"Did you, perhaps, believe that with the seal of the great entity, the corruption upon your chest was more akin to a boon? As long as you follow the correct procedures at the appropriate stages, you shouldn't encounter any issues apart from enduring greater pain and assuming a certain risk of losing control."

Lumian fell into silence, recognizing that he had entertained similar thoughts of late.

"You must rember that in such matters, the potency of a curse is no less than that of a boon, if not stronger," warned Susie. "I don't know how Termiboros has influenced you, but given His belief in Inevitability, I suspect His primary aim is to induce a deviation in your destiny.

"However, you needn't worry excessively. He is, after all, sealed, and His capacity for influence is considerably limited. Moving forward, as long as you continuously assess your condition and consistently seek guidance on your actions, you can largely circumvent this predicant."

"Alright." Lumian retrieved a pen and paper and hastily jotted down a mo.

The note pertained to consulting Madam Magician regarding Termiboros.

He feared succumbing to the angel's influence from the realm of Inevitability and forgetting these pertinent matters once the treatnt concluded.

Lumian carefully stored away his pen and paper, releasing a slow exhale.

"Now that I've recollected the events involving Termiboros, I feel considerably more at ease. It appears that my spirituality had detected sothing."

"I can perceive an improvent in your ntal state," affird Susie, echoing Lumian's sentints.

Taking advantage of the mont, Lumian posed a question, "Ladies, do you believe that Susanna Mattise has been fully eradicated by the official Beyonders? Or should I continue searching for clues at Théatre de l'Ancienne Cage à Pigeons to prevent her from launching another attack?"

Taking note of the ti, Monsieur Ive, the landlord of Auberge du Coq Doré, should soon find himself in dire straits.

Susie offered a gentle smile as she replied, "The Spectator path isn't well-versed in divination."

Seated across from Lumian, the "invisible" lady smiled and added, "Madam Magician is a divination expert. Did she not provide you with an answer? Or perhaps her hidden ssage eluded your understanding?"

She didn't say anything… Lumian pondered for a mont, recalling Madam Magician's response regarding Susanna Mattise.

Suddenly, he froze.

Madam Magician had continuously guided him on how to resolve the issue with Susanna Mattise, subtly hinting that he should seek assistance from Mr. K.

From a different perspective, she had never once considered the possibility that Susanna Mattise had been entirely eliminated!

In her view, this predicant would undoubtedly resurface!

Isn't it too ambiguous? Or does she assu it's self-evident and fails to emphasize it? Lumian mumbled to himself, nodding in realization.

"I know the answer."

As Lumian spoke, he made a connection based on the manner and deanor exhibited by the Psychiatrist seated opposite him when addressing Madam Magician.

Could they also be mbers of the secretive organization that employs tarot cards as their code nas?

To which cards do they correspond?

After making so adjustnts, Lumian sought clarification about his ntal state.

"The re thought of eting Louis Lund fills with anxiety, excitent, and adrenaline. I can't seem to control my emotions. Is this a severe psychological issue?"

Susie responded in a soothing voice, "That's actually quite normal. People often exhibit similar behavior when it cos to matters they deeply care about. You're just a bit more intense than usual.

"If you didn't react this way, I would have been concerned that you were facing a more severe psychological problem and had repressed all your emotions.

"What you need to focus on now is not being fearful or overwheld, but rather learning to manage those emotions."

Normal… Lumian felt reassured by Susie's explanation, and his concern regarding the matter at hand subsided, allowing his ntal state to stabilize.

He pondered and asked, "Manage them?"

How do I do that?

Susie replied, "The simplest thod is to always remind yourself not to overreact. Whenever you feel a similar surge of emotions, take deep breaths and find your calm.

"It may sound easy, but in reality, it's quite challenging. When emotions flare up, it's difficult for humans to maintain rationality. They rarely think about controlling themselves. By the ti they regain their composure, they often find that they've already made a mistake.

"I can set up a trigger for you. Once your emotional reactions exceed a certain threshold, it will remind you of my words and assist you in regaining your rationality, allowing you to attempt to regain control.

"This is a temporary solution. In the long run, it will depend on your own efforts. However, once you beco accustod to self-reflection during tis of heightened emotion, the issue will beco more manageable.

"Are you willing to give it a try?"

"Alright." Lumian had no qualms about accepting external assistance.

At so point, Susie's voice took on an otherworldly and elusive quality. It felt as though she had said a great deal, yet Lumian couldn't recall a single word. The only thing he could rember was her concluding statent: "The trigger has been set. If all goes well, it will last for two weeks, perfectly tid for your next session. At that point, we can decide whether to make any adjustnts."

Lumian briefly acknowledged her words and assessed his ntal state.

After more than ten seconds, filled with both fear and anticipation, he inquired, "Is it possible for to attempt to awaken more buried mories from my subconscious?"

-x-X-x-

"Of course," ca Susie's gentle voice, reaching Lumian's ears.

Almost simultaneously, Lumian felt a weight pulling at his consciousness, dragging him down swiftly into deeper depths.

Within a matter of seconds, his eyelids grew heavy, and he could not resist the urge to close them. His thoughts beca muddled and indistinct.

In his dazed state, Lumian appeared to transform into a spectral figure, floating through the familiar village of Cordu in the cloak of night.

After an unknown duration, he caught sight of the onion-shaped cathedral, though his perception remained hazy. A concentrated beam of light erged near its main entrance, while the rest of the darkness lood like an ominous shadow.

Lumian andered aimlessly toward the adjacent cetery.

In the darkness, tombstones stood in silent formation, and trees assud an eerie presence.

A group of n were hauling a lifeless body toward a deep pit, preparing to cast it down.

Beneath the faint glow of the crimson moon, one of the n lifted his head and surveyed his surroundings.

His face, with black hair and piercing blue eyes, bore deep creases, as if shrouded in shadows.

Pons Bénet!

Lumian snapped out of his reverie.

The distance between them diminished instantly. Lumian lowered his gaze and beheld the corpse.

The face of the lifeless body appeared swollen from water, drained of color. The brown hair clung damply to the head, while the brown eyes remained wide open, reflecting agony, indignation, and resentnt.

Reimund!

A surge of intense hatred filled Lumian's heart as he hurled accusations at Pons Bénet and his companions, giving vent to his emotions.

It felt as if he had unleashed a torrent of curses, as if he had pounced on Pons Bénet, the villain. It felt as if he was digging a profound pit with his bare hands.

Dirt pierced his nails, uncovering another corpse at the pit's bottom.

The girl's eyes, a shade of lake-blue, bulged fiercely. Her face bore a bluish-purple hue, her mouth agape, and her neck showed evident signs of strangulation. She wore an expression of excruciating pain.

Ava!

Lumian shot up from his seat, propelled by intense emotions, and his eyes flew open.

Huff. Puff. Lumian stared at the vacant sofa opposite him in the booth, gasping heavily.

The intense anger and hatred from his dream lingered, causing him to tremble uncontrollably.

Lumian's face twisted slightly as he replied, his voice filled with pain.

"I saw them. I saw Reimund and Ava's bodies. One of them drowned, and the other appeared to have been strangled to death… Pons Bénet and his gang were burying their bodies in the cetery next to the cathedral… I shouted at them, wanted to do sothing… and then I woke up."

Susie listened attentively and spoke calmly.

"This ti, I didn't allow you to have a lucid dream. Instead, I let you experience certain subconscious scenes in the form of a dream.

"While it may not present the complete truth, it combines fragnts of what actually happened. There might be overlaps in ti or space, but the essential details remain intact. It provides us with a basis for interpretation."

Lumian asked, his voice filled with anguish, "So you're saying that I really witnessed Pons Bénet and the others burying Reimund and Ava's bodies in the cetery?"

"I'm not entirely certain," Susie analyzed. "What we can conclude so far is that Reimund was drowned by Pons Bénet and his companions, and Ava was strangled to death by them. Their bodies were eventually buried sowhere in the cetery, and you may or may not have been present at the scene. It's possible that you discovered it later and attempted to unearth their corpses as well as seek revenge on Pons Bénet and his gang, but the outco wasn't favorable. Otherwise, your recent dream would have reflected so of that content."

Lumian fell silent for a mont before speaking again.

"So that's what happened… I was wondering why Pons Bénet and the others didn't kill and toss into the deep pit if I was truly there…"

Part of his anguish stemd from a fear deep within him—a suspicion that he might have been in league with Pons and his gang.

"We cannot dismiss the possibility that you were present at the scene and witnessed the entire incident, but there are nurous explanations. It may not be as you imagine it to be. They spared your life because they needed a vessel with exceptional physical attributes." Susie understood Lumian's doubts and resistance. Her words aid to soothe him gently. "What I can affirm is that the anger, hatred, and desire for revenge you experienced in your dream were genuine. Those were your true emotions at that ti. In other words, regardless of the circumstances, the deaths of Ava and Reimund have nothing to do with you."

Upon hearing Susie's words, Lumian felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He slumped against the sofa, his strength draining away.

His mind was now much calr than before, and he no longer needed to maintain a facade of bravery.

In the blink of an eye, an invisible warm breeze swept through his body and mind, soothing him completely.

Susie's encouraging voice filled the air, her smile evident.

"Compared to our last session, you're in a much better state now. You showed courage sooner than I anticipated, facing the doubts and questions you were reluctant to confront.

"In the realm of psychology, this is a crucial indication that you're breaking free from the puzzle. Only by directly confronting the problem can you find a resolution.

"Alright, that concludes today's treatnt. You're ready to face Louis Lund, Mada Pualis, and the others."

In that very instant, the composed Lumian pondered the words of Madam Magician, recalling her earnest advice.

"There is yet another matter.

"I may be compelled to believe in another entity at so point, but ordinarily, I am forbidden to recollect His honorific na. Do you—either of you—possess a ans to prevent such recollection?"

The cheerful female voice responded, her words carrying a gentle smile, "That is quite simple. I shall provide you with a psychological trigger. When your spiritual intuition feels devoid of protection, your subconscious will replace the honorific na with 'That Being' to safeguard against its impact.

"While under protection, you may freely rember and speak His na in its entirety…"

Lumian's mind turned adrift briefly upon hearing the other person declare, "The psychological cue has been planted."

"Thank you, Madam. And thank you too, Madam Susie," Lumian nodded toward the empty space across from the booth.

"You're welco. See you in two weeks," the gentle female voice replied, and Susie added, "See you in two weeks."

Lumian wasn't sure when they departed, but the area around Booth D grew still. Only the chirping of birds in the botanical garden, the clopping of hooves on the road, and the distant hum of machinery resonated.

He lifted his cup, finishing the remainder of his Intis coffee in one gulp, adjusting his ntal state.

Seizing the mont, he replayed the entire treatnt process in his mind, and an inexplicable feeling settled upon him. Madam Susie's last statent seed sowhat peculiar.

She said I can face Louis Lund, Mada Pualis, and the others now… Does that imply that the answers I might receive from Mada Pualis could shatter ?

It's understandable, but what if my condition doesn't improve as expected? Will she advise to give up the opportunity to et Louis Lund? But what if Louis Lund erged yesterday? Wouldn't it be a major problem if I hadn't had my follow up?

If that's the case, shouldn't Madam Susie have warned against approaching Mada Pualis or confronting the padre before the follow-up session?

How can she be so certain that I won't encounter Louis Lund in the past two weeks, or that he'll elude capture if I do?

Spectator…

Lumian's senses snapped back to full alertness. He exited Booth D and hailed a public carriage back to Le Marché du Quartier du Gentleman.

Lumian didn't rush to send a ssenger to Auberge du Coq Doré or the safe house on Rue des Blouses Blanches to inform Madam Magician about Termiboros. Instead, he made his way straight to 126 Avenue du Marché to check if his subordinates, Anthony Reid, or Franca had discovered anything.

With a dark brown wide-brimd hat atop his head, Lumian strolled to a spot diagonally across from "Black Scorpion" Roger's house, roughly 20 ters away. He settled into a gap between two buildings, leaning against the wall.

Several vagrants occupied the area.

One of them shuffled closer to Lumian and whispered, "Nothing yet."

Lumian nodded and directed his gaze toward the three-story building with a garden, keeping an eye on passersby.

As ti ticked by, the sun descended on the horizon, casting a dwindling light. The lamplighters comnced their task, igniting the gas lamps one by one.

At that mont, Lumian spotted a man clad in a grayish-blue worker's uniform.

Underneath his cap, light-yellow hair peeked out, and his slightly chubby face exuded an air of simplicity and honesty.

Anthony Reid? Why is he out and about? Lumian recognized the information broker, perplexed by his actions.

Resembling a worker finishing his shift, Anthony Reid hurried toward the end of Avenue du Marché.

Lumian's pupils contracted when he realized that Anthony Reid wasn't rely passing by; he was approaching soone.

The man sported a blue gown adorned with yellow buttons, a waxed hat, a white tie, and a red vest. He sat inside a rental carriage bearing a yellow plate, clearly a driver affiliated with the Empire Carriage Company. Carriage drivers from different companies donned distinct uniforms.

The carriage driver tipped his hat, keeping his head lowered as if waiting for a custor.

Lumian's heart stirred. He rose to his feet, taking a few steps in that direction.

As Anthony Reid brushed past the carriage, he stumbled and collided with the horse pulling it.

Startled, the horse attempted to raise its forelegs, but the carriage driver swiftly tugged on the reins, firmly restraining the animal.

Yet, as the carriage driver lifted his head, his face was revealed.

In his forties, with black hair, Lumian couldn't discern his features clearly due to the distance. Nonetheless, a faint sense of familiarity washed over him.

Lumian narrowed his eyes as he profusely apologized to Anthony Reid and left the carriage behind. A valet erged from 126 Avenue du Marché.

Approaching the carriage, the valet addressed the driver,

"My master wishes to hire your carriage. Proceed inside and assist with moving so items."

The carriage driver nodded, replying in a deep voice, "Okay."

Following the valet, he entered the residence belonging to "Black Scorpion" Roger.

Lumian, who had witnessed the entire sequence of events without catching their conversation, smirked.

He was now utterly certain that the carriage driver was Louis Lund!

At long last, you've arrived!

-x-X-x-

Lumian retreated to the cluster of tramps, patiently awaiting the ergence of Louis Lund.

Soon enough, Anthony Reid, the information broker, returned after changing his attire, seemingly determined to fulfill his promise and seize an opportunity to tail Louis Lund.

At that mont, he sported a yellowish-white shirt and a brown formal coat. There was no bow tie around his neck, but he wore a round hat, resembling a clerk fresh out of the office.

Had Lumian not possessed a certain knowledge of Reid's build, temperant, and gait, he might have failed to recognize him.

After considering his options, Lumian stepped out from the crevice between the two buildings and confronted Anthony Reid.

Having discarded his disguise upon departing the Valiant Café, he now donned a simple ensemble consisting of black-frad glasses and a broad brown hat. Those familiar with him could effortlessly discern his identity.

Noticing the shift in Anthony Reid's gaze, Lumian whispered as they brushed past each other, "I'm back. Await at the rear entrance."

Although the Prophecy Spell indicated a reunion with Louis Lund on Avenue du Marché, Lumian aid to avert any potential mishaps.

On one hand, the Prophetic Concoction derived from his body's response, rendering it sowhat unreliable. There might be omissions within the prophecy. On the other hand, the manifestation of a prophecy could assu various forms, deviating entirely from his anticipated sequence of events.

Anthony Reid withdrew his gaze and nodded, signifying his comprehension.

He advanced onward, passing by the residence of "Black Scorpion" Roger, and disappearing into the distance down an alley.

Lumian did not imdiately turn around. Beneath the glow of street lamps, he pressed onward.

Just as he reached a dimly lit section, a figure erged from the shadows beneath a dilapidated, iron-black street lamp in the alley ahead.

The towering individual, garbed in a form-fitting black robe with a hood that nearly concealed the face, beckoned to Lumian.

Franca? Lumian instantly ford a conjecture and hastened towards her.

The conspicuously dressed character was indeed "Red Boots" Franca.

This ti, she had forgone her trademark red boots in favor of black ones.

"Aren't you concerned about being discovered?" Lumian couldn't help but inquire.

While Trieriens had a high tolerance for eccentric attire and even actively pursued fashion trends, loitering in secrecy while dressed in such a manner would undoubtedly draw the attention of "Black Scorpion" Roger and the Poison Spur Mob—even the passing laborers!

Franca grinned nonchalantly and retorted, "You don't understand. This is all part of the procedure! Didn't your sister teach you?"

Indeed, she did teach , but she never ntioned employing it in such a place or situation… Before Lumian could utter another word, Franca waved her hand dismissively.

"Fret not, I won't be discovered."

As her words faded, she took a step backward, rging seamlessly with the shadow and vanishing from Lumian's sight.

If it weren't for the inevitable gender change at Sequence 7, he would have considered this path more to his liking than that of the Hunter.

Erging from the shadows once more, Franca pointed toward 126 Avenue du Marché in the distance.

"That carriage driver should be the Louis Lund you seek. Shall I assist you in tailing him later?

"I understand that Hunters possess a hound's nose and eagle's eyes, making them adept at tracking, but you struggle with concealnt. Staying too far away risks losing the target, while staying too close risks discovery. It's safer if I handle it.

"Don't forget, Louis Lund is also a Beyonder, and he worships an evil god. It's possible he possesses unique abilities."

This ti, Lumian didn't resist or reject the offer. He nodded and replied, "Very well."

At present, he couldn't mark Louis Lund with a distinct scent, and darkness was swiftly descending. The crowded streets, filled with pedestrians and carriages, would muddle any traces. Tailing from 20 to 30 ters away could easily result in losing the target with the slightest misstep.

Franca's thin, red lips curled into a visible smile, free from the confines of the hooded shadow, as she spoke,"Your afternoon therapy session was quite effective. A man should be more open-minded, untroubled by trivial matters."

She lightly tapped her chest as she spoke.

From her possession erged a glass bottle.

The surface of the small bottle had been intricately etched into small squares, reflecting the nearby streetlamp's light and shimring with psychedelic colors.

"When I lived as a man, I found these perfu bottles to be beautifully crafted, but I felt too self-conscious to buy them or carry them with . Now, I have no such concerns. Sotis, changing your gender can open the door to a new world," Franca said with emotion.

The door to a new world refers to sleeping with n? If it weren't for the crucial task of tracking Louis Lund, Lumian would definitely have provided such a rejoinder.

Opening the lid, she brought the pressed glass bottle to Lumian's nose.

"Rember its scent."

The perfu was refreshing and natural, akin to strolling through a forest on a sumr's day.

"Got it." Lumian nodded slightly.

Franca proceeded to spray it on herself.

"It has distinct top, middle, and base notes, but the differences are subtle. There's no need to discern them specifically. You'll know it by the scent alone.

"I'll position myself three to four ters away from Louis Lund. Without a hound's nose, he won't detect this fragrance that clearly doesn't belong to the market district."

Lumian added thoughtfully, "So, I am to track your perfu from a distance of ten to twenty ters?"

It was indeed a clever strategy.

"That's correct." Franca produced a handful of fluorescent powder, sprinkling it over herself, and recited a deep incantation.

It appeared to be a fusion of the Hers words for "hidden" and "body."

Almost instantaneously, Lumian witnessed Franca's form gradually fading away, as if an eraser were obliterating a pencil drawing.

Apart from the lingering fragrance in his nostrils, he had completely lost track of the Witch.

Once again, Lumian marveled at the Demoness path's performance as a Low- to Mid-Sequence Beyonder.

In the blink of an eye, Lumian felt the fragrance's source receding, drawing closer to the three-story building with a garden at 126 Avenue du Marché.

Lumian made his way in that direction, slipping into the shadows and pressing himself against the wall.

After nearly half an hour, a man nad Louis Lund erged, dressed in a red vest, blue uniform, white tie, and waxed hat. Accompanying him was "Black Scorpion" Roger, impeccably attired in a formal suit with neatly combed black hair.

One of them took the reins of the carriage, while the other entered inside.

Why is "Black Scorpion" Roger following him? Is he planning to et Mada Pualis in person? Lumian furrowed his brow in slight confusion.

This introduced new variables to his plan.

Originally, Lumian intended to find an opportune mont during Louis Lund's return journey. With his current strength, he could easily overpower his target, even if they were both Sequence 8s. Plus, he had the assistance of Witch Franca.

However, if "Black Scorpion" Roger joined the equation, things would beco considerably more troubleso.

From the midwife's performance in his dream, Lumian deduced that a Heretic Spellmaster possessed nurous mystical techniques and considerable power. They were fully capable of matching a Witch from the Assassin pathway.

While Lumian could have Franca distract "Black Scorpion" Roger while he dealt with Louis Lund, the battle between two Mid-Sequence Beyonders wouldn't be swift, thus increasing the risk of discovery.

Hmm… If "Black Scorpion" Roger truly intends to et Mada Pualis, I'll follow him instead of attacking. My objective is to locate Mada Pualis and establish contact with her. Lumian swiftly revised his plan and devised a new strategy.

The rental carriage began its journey toward the opposite end of Avenue du Marché, and the refreshing, natural fragrance faded away.

Lumian hurried along beside the gas street lamps, maintaining a distance of nearly 20 ters.

After a while, he sensed the perfu co to a halt. Advancing another ten ters, he witnessed the rental carriage pulling over by the roadside. "Black Scorpion" Roger disembarked, carrying a wooden box.

Not far away stood Le Marché du Quartier du Gentleman.

Within a matter of seconds, Louis Lund directed the carriage toward a fork in the road, bypassing the bustling area. anwhile, "Black Scorpion" Roger ventured into the market alone.

Is Mada Pualis at Le Marché du Quartier du Gentleman? Or is "Black Scorpion" Roger rely escorting Louis Lund for a distance, concerned about potential targeting? Lumian speculated as he hastened forward.

Regardless, capturing Louis Lund took precedence!

Behind Le Marché du Quartier du Gentleman, there were only a few pedestrians. Under the pitch-black sky, occasionally, one could spot a lone figure.

Several street lamps here were out of order, leaving the road engulfed in darkness. It was wide enough for several carriages to pass side by side.

Lumian surveyed the surroundings, wasting no ti. He removed his black-frad glasses and sprinted forward.

Before long, he caught up with the slowly moving carriage. As Louis Lund sensed the anomaly, he pushed down on the carriage with his left hand and lunged toward the driver's seat.

From this distance, Lumian could clearly see the black-haired, blue-eyed face.

Though the other party had employed so disguise, Lumian was certain it was Louis Lund!

Reacting swiftly, Louis Lund, without bothering to ascertain the assailant's identity or motives, seized the reins with his left hand and balled his right hand into a fist. Like a speeding cannonball, he launched an attack at Lumian, who was suspended in midair with no leverage to defend himself.

In that very mont, Louis Lund caught sight of Lumian's unmasked face, his eyes widening in sheer shock.

Undeterred, Lumian didn't evade the blow. Instead, he extended his right arm and caught hold of Louis Lund's fist.

Just as the impending collision seed inevitable, Lumian retracted his arm, lessening the force behind the strike. Then, with a swift motion, he intertwined Louis Lund's fists, wrists, and forearms as though he had boneless limbs. As a result, Louis Lund was sent flying backward but remained within the confines of the carriage.

In the blink of an eye, Louis Lund saw a smile on Lumian's face.

Whack!

Franca materialized on the opposite side of the carriage driver's seat, her palm poised to strike Louis Lund's ear.

Under the formidable Beyonder powers unleashed by an Assassin's full-strength blow, Louis Lund succumbed to unconsciousness without uttering a single sound.

-x-X-x-

With a swift movent, Lumian used the force of Louis Lund's fall to gracefully land in the spot where the carriage driver had been stationed.

Franca had already taken over from Louis Lund, expertly maneuvering the horse and bringing the carriage to a halt by the darkened roadside.

Their coordination was flawless, even without prior communication. One focused on the front while the other ambushed from behind. In a matter of seconds, they managed to overpower Louis Lund, a powerful Beyonder at Sequence 8.

"Carry him into the carriage," Franca instructed, her experience evident as she contemplated the subsequent course of action.

Lumian didn't object and lifted Louis Lund into the rented four-wheeled carriage.

Franca followed suit, closing the carriage door behind her. Then, she removed her hood and black robe, seemingly preparing to change into more comfortable attire upon returning ho.

Halfway through her task, she caught Lumian's puzzled gaze and snapped out of her reverie. Awkwardly, she instructed, "Turn around."

Lumian could deduce Franca's intentions and quickly obliged, diverting his gaze out the window to allow her the privacy she required.

A rustling sound continued for over a minute behind him.

"I'm done," Franca's clear voice reached his ears.

The rental carriage wasn't particularly spacious. Lumian, standing at over 1.8 ters tall, hunched over slightly and turned back.

Franca now wore a red vest, a white tie, and a blue gown adorned with a row of yellow buttons. Holding a waxed hat and a horsewhip, she presented an unusual blend of mismatched elents—an absurd and peculiar beauty—with her sharp nose, slightly flamboyant brown eyebrows, thin red lips, and vivid lake-colored eyes.

"Quite swift, Miss Franca," Lumian praised, acknowledging her as the "new" driver for the Empire Carriage Company.

"That's professionalism for you! If these buttons hadn't been so ti-consuming, I could have been even faster," Franca muttered as she tucked her flaxen-colored hair beneath the waxed hat.

With her disguise complete, she retrieved an eyebrow pencil and other items she carried and quickly applied so simple makeup. Her complexion darkened, and her eyebrows were made to appear untidy, successfully transforming her into an ordinary-looking man who wouldn't attract undue attention in the dimly lit streets illuminated by the crimson moon and streetlamps.

"I'll be the carriage driver. You interrogate him," Franca declared, opening the door and hopping out to assu Louis Lund's forr seat.

She took hold of the reins and guided the horse to turn slowly.

Satisfied that the rental carriage was moving steadily, Lumian assisted Louis Lund to the opposite seat. Extracting a bottle of truth serum he had obtained from the unscrupulous Hedsey, he compelled Louis to consu a third of it.

As the drug began to take effect, Lumian resisted the urge to wake the unconscious Louis Lund with the ritual silver dagger. Instead, he gently prodded the area between the bridge of the nose and lips, tugged at a strand of his hair, and lightly tickled his nostrils with the strand. Gradually, Louis Lund stirred from his slumber.

Throughout this process, Lumian maintained a friendly and non-threatening posture, refraining from dislocating his captive's joints or binding his hands and feet.

Achoo!

Louis Lund sneezed and abruptly awakened from his slumber.

He glanced across at Lumian, who sat at ease with a smile playing on his lips.

"Stay calm," Lumian reassured, his smile unwavering as he pressed his right palm down. "If I intended you harm, stray dogs would have already feasted upon you."

Louis Lund's imdiate impulse was to employ his powers and make a swift escape. Yet, as he recalled being attacked from behind, he cautiously peered out of the carriage window.

The distant light rged with the surrounding shadows, amplifying the hushed whispers of wheels and hooves upon the road.

Reluctant to gamble on mounting a counterattack, Louis Lund inquired in a low, grave voice, "What is it that you want?"

From his vantage point, Lumian hadn't taken any asures to restrain him, confident in the belief that escape was futile.

The other party may have been careless or vulnerable, presenting an opportunity for Louis Lund to exploit. But such an advantage would never manifest in a direct confrontation.

And the aid accompanying Lumian could strike from the shadows undetected—a force to be reckoned with!

Lumian smiled. "I rely seek to reunite with an old friend."

Louis Lund, dressed only in a linen shirt and shorts, replied with a dark expression, "I won't succumb to your threats again. Mada is already aware of my past transgressions and has granted forgiveness."

So I really possessed incriminating information about you? Lumian's mind montarily swirled with confusion.

Recollections from his dream erged—a revelation of Louis Lund engaging in an illicit affair with a woman from the village, clandestinely selling portions of the administrator's castle collection in a bid to blackmail him for knowledge of Mada Pualis's involvent with the padre.

In retrospect, those accounts might have been fallacious.

If the padre truly harbored desires for Mada Pualis, it made little sense for him to forsake belief in the evil god symbolizing bountiful harvests, or to forgo birthing several children with her.

Lumian suspected that his dream had crafted an R-rated adaptation of the concealed conflict between the two factions. After all, both the padre and Mada Pualis had nurous lovers, making it easy for his subconscious to forge connections.

Compared to the secrets housed within Mada Pualis's castle, Louis Lund's affair and the pilfering of collections appeared as innocuous as mundane als thrice daily. There was no ground for him to be subjected to blackmail.

Yet here stood Louis Lund, insisting that he had indeed erred and fallen victim to Lumian's coercion.

"Is that so?" Lumian adopted his Cordu Prankster King persona. "I rely assisted you in concealing your missteps. How can that be construed as a threat?"

Louis Lund erupted in a bitter laugh, a mix of anger and disbelief.

"You are the most shaless individual I have ever encountered.

"I am aware that you uncovered certain irregularities and sought to discern their origins, but you did indeed threaten and extract information about Mada."

"That's correct. In those days, I entertained the thought of betraying Mada and seeking the padre's assistance. However, that was because I hadn't comprehended the greatness of Mother. I was still a follower of the false god, the Eternal Blazing Sun. Now, my life stems from Mother, and my future belongs to Mother."

Ah, so that's how it is… I must thank this truth serum. You've spilled all that needed to be said, both the necessary and the unnecessary. I didn't have to wrack my brain to gather information… In reality, I sensed sothing amiss in the village and embarked on a certain investigation? Lumian nodded, satisfied, and smiled. "When did you co to realize the greatness of Mother? Was it after you gave birth to that child?"

Louis Lund looked utterly stunned, his reaction almost causing him to jolt upright and bang his head. "How did you know about birthing a child? How could you possibly know?"

Hmm… So I wasn't involved in the padre's raid on the administrator's castle? Otherwise, Louis Lund wouldn't be posing such a question… Lumian felt a surge of delight and jestingly responded, "When I undressed you earlier, I noticed stretch marks and a C-section scar on your stomach."

"Impossible!" Louis Lund fiercely objected. "Mada has already erased them!"

Lumian swiftly changed the course of their conversation and inquired with curiosity,

"I'm curious to know how Mada Pualis managed to impregnate you."

Louis Lund, though initially hesitant to answer, couldn't resist the urge to divulge the secret.

"Whether it's a man or a woman, as long as you engage in intimate relations with her and exchange bodily fluids, she can conceive a child according to her desires."

I see… Lumian breathed a sigh of relief.

His greatest concern had been the possibility of Mada Pualis employing her Beyonder abilities to remotely impregnate him.

"So, both n and won will do, but what about animals?" Lumian pressed on.

Louis Lund was taken aback by the question. After a few monts, he responded, "That should work too…"

"And what about plants? Or rocks?" Lumian's inquiry turned scholarly.

"I… I don't know," Louis Lund admitted, unable to provide a definitive answer.

Mada has never contemplated such possibilities. Why does this youngster possess such a vivid imagination?

Regretfully, Lumian changed the subject.

"Since you conceived through the exchange of bodily fluids, how did you end up with that bird's nest-like thing in your stomach?"

"How do you know about it? When did you see it?" Louis Lund asked, astonished.

"I'll tell you later," Lumian swiftly lied, maintaining his composure without a flicker of hesitation.

Louis Lund wore a perplexed expression as he muttered, his face clouded with confusion, "It ca along with the conception of the child. It's like a fruit. The outer layer is the epidermis, and the fetus is the pulp. They were once joined together and only split open when ripe."

"Sounds quite magical. That bird's nest seems to possess great spiritual value. Can it be utilized in the realm of mysticism?" Lumian deliberately rambled, skillfully diverting the conversation away from his true intentions.

"It serves as a key ingredient in a certain healing potion," Louis Lund continued, speaking without pause. "It has various other uses as well, like enhancing the condition of human skin and providing power to spells…"

After he finished, Lumian let out a nonchalant sigh.

"Did your first child perish in the padre's assault on the castle?"

"Yes, he was still so young," Louis Lund lanted the loss of life. "During that ti, the padre had many followers with him. We kept retreating, and a few Gardeners and a Heretic Spellmaster lost their lives. If Madam hadn't returned in ti, we wouldn't have escaped. Sigh, all those children were killed."

"How many people did the padre bring?" Lumian casually inquired, concealing his true concerns.

Louis Lund recollected and replied, "So were shepherds originally, like Pierre Berry, Niort Best, and the others. So were the padre's mistresses, such as Sybil Berry, Madonna Bénet, and Philippa Guillau. The rest were Pons Bénet and his gang. We managed to kill a few of them, including the rather formidable Niort Best…"

In my dream, Niort Best was slain by the three sheep… So in reality, he died during the raid on the administrator's castle? And I wasn't among the individuals ntioned by Louis Lund… In other words, the battle scenes I witnessed were derived from a fragnt of my soul? Thus, they are incomplete and unable to reveal the full picture and all the participants… Lumian felt a sense of relief and smiled as he asked, "Where did Mada Pualis go?"

-x-X-x-

Louis Lund shook his head.

"I've got no idea, but when Mada ca back, she wasn't well either."

"Then she saw the castle in ruins and the important items destroyed. She gathered the remaining ones and prepared to leave Cordu."

Based on what I witnessed, it seems that Mada Pualis had indeed been engaged in a fight with soone else. Lumian asked with curiosity, "Why didn't Mada Pualis try to bring the dead back to life?"

Louis Lund looked at Lumian, surprised.

"I never told you any of that…"

In other words, he wanted to know how Lumian had this knowledge.

Lumian smiled but offered no explanation.

Louis Lund couldn't contain his urge to spill the secret.

"Mada can resurrect the dead and restore their bodies, but it's far from perfect. The resurrected ones aren't quite human anymore. They're part corpse, part monster. They only retain fragnts of their original mories and can only exist for seven days."

Mada Pualis's resurrection ability is severely flawed at this level… Lumian was disappointed.

He diverted the topic.

"What did Mada Pualis want in Cordu?"

Louis Lund looked puzzled. "Didn't I already tell you?"

Lumian was prepared and smiled as he replied, "Given what happened afterward, I believe you might have a different perspective now."

Louis Lund felt the need to share the information, so he sighed and said, "Back then, I couldn't comprehend it. I was even scared. That's why I dropped hints to the padre during Mass, hoping for assistance."

"Yes… I later discovered that Mada wanted to create an entirely new world in Cordu. In this world, when humans die, their souls return to the earth and roam the wilderness. On special occasions, they can return ho and experience the joy of reunion. By redeeming their sins, they can be reborn, erging from the Mother's womb as human fetuses."

"Paramita?" Lumian rembered the term from his dream.

"Yes!" Louis Lund replied, fear evident in his eyes.

He suspected that Lumian had asked the question to gauge his reaction.

Lumian knew the correct answer and sought to determine if Louis Lund was lying or how much of his story was false.

He could only inquire about it from Louis Lund, not Mada Pualis.

Louis Lund shook his head slowly.

"Mada briefly ntioned it, but it was very vague.

"She said she had only established a small, caricature Paramita, a part of the complete Paramita. She also ntioned that by creating her own Paramita, she could please the Mother and bear more."

A part? What would happen if those Madas managed to create a complete Paramita? Lumian wondered if constructing a miniature Paramita was a prerequisite for their unusual path towards godhood.

He gazed at Louis Lund, attempting to inquire, "What is Mada Pualis's Sequence now?"

"Mada's condition is rather peculiar. It might be related to the destruction of her Paramita or sothing else she possesses," Louis Lund replied, catching himself mid-sentence.

Why can't I control my words? Why did I say what I shouldn't have?

Louis Lund realized that his behavior had likely been influenced by one of Lumian Lee's Beyonder powers.

Now understanding the cause, he no longer blad himself or felt anxious. He felt a sense of relief and relaxation.

"Mada should be sowhere between Sequence 5 and Sequence 4. At tis, she exudes an imposing aura that makes people afraid to et her gaze. Other tis, she lacks such grandeur."

It's reminiscent of the state Mada Pualis displayed in my dream… Lumian recalled and stated, "Sequence 9 Villain, Sequence 8 Gardener, Sequence 7 Heretic Spellmaster, Sequence 6 Sower… What cos after Sequence 5? And what about Sequence 4? What lies beyond that?"

He knows more than I anticipated… Witnessing Lumian Lee divulge so much information about the pathway's Sequences in one go, Louis Lund didn't dare take any risks. Yielding to his desire to confide in him, he responded, "Banshee is Sequence 5, and Evil Overlord, also known as Benevolent Overlord or Mada, is Sequence 4. I don't know what lies beyond that. I'm rely a Gardener. I don't possess the right to receive any further boons and advance to beco a Heretic Spellmaster."

Banshee… The na implies a change in gender… Pulitt beca Pualis… Titles like Mada Moon and Mada Night symbolize godhood and demigods, but Mada Pualis doesn't precisely fit the role of Mada Night… Lumian pondered for a mont before steering the conversation back to Cordu.

"Were Mada Pualis's initial followers in the village mostly lovers and the elderly?"

"That's correct," Louis Lund affird, nodding. "People like Naroka, who were quite old, yearned deeply for their departed loved ones. They longed to see them again and worry about what awaits them after death. They experience both fear and longing. That's the aid Mada can provide them. Unfortunately, Naroka passed away suddenly before fully embracing Paramita. Mada suspects that she discovered the padre's sche and was killed by her youngest son, who follows the padre."

That explains it… Lumian gained new insight into Naroka's death from his dream.

Her demise was the result of being silenced.

Ava and Reimund likely t the sa fate.

Sighing, Lumian changed the subject.

"When did you realize sothing was amiss with the padre?"

Louis Lund contemplated for a mont and replied, "In early January, I caught sight of the children in the castle tower. You can't fathom what it was like. To put it briefly, it terrified and nearly drove insane. I was desperate to leave Mada.

"Initially, I believed she was just like those mystical fanatics who enjoy purchasing magazines like Psychic and Lotus and engaging in futile practices. I didn't think there was anything wrong. However, as ti went on, I noticed that the other residents of the castle were becoming increasingly peculiar. The administrator locked himself and Mada in their rooms on two separate occasions, coinciding with the birth of a child each ti. My valets and maids often did the sa, and Mada was remarkably understanding of their behavior.

"From ti to ti, the distant cries of a baby reached my ears, causing deep suspicion to well up within . Seizing the opportunity presented by Mada's absence and the others' lack of vigilance, I stealthily slipped into the tower. Oh, Mother, the sight that greeted was utterly terrifying!"

Louis Lund, originally intending to speak of Guillau Bénet's abnormal behavior, found himself unable to contain his thoughts on the castle tower incident, and he began to ramble.

Lumian could vividly imagine the scene, for he had witnessed it in his dream: human children with bird-like claws, sprawled against the walls, densely packed and scattered throughout.

Louis Lund gulped nervously and continued his account, "I initially dropped hints to the padre during Mass. Later, I took the opportunity to reveal Mada's abnormality to him. I suspected she might be a follower of an evil deity. He instructed to keep it hidden and not expose myself, assuring that he would handle the situation.

"It was around mid-January when things took a turn for the worse. The padre continued his normal routine as if nothing was amiss. Despite my repeated urging, you eventually discovered the truth and threatened .

"After that, Sewell, the carriage driver, and I received a revelation. We repented and wholeheartedly pledged ourselves to Mada.

"Then, in March, the padre suddenly launched an attack on the castle with a group of people."

Louis Lund has limited knowledge about the padre's situation. When Lumian inquired further about what had transpired in Cordu, Louis Lund seed unfamiliar with the village's circumstances. This aligned with his role as the castle's butler, primarily tending to matters in Dariège and other cities.

He only ntioned that since January, the villagers of Cordu had been frequently discussing horoscopes, believing that it would bring them glory and alter their destinies. Prior to that, they rely followed certain folk traditions to ward off any changes in their fate. Specific discussions regarding these matters were rare.

With the understanding that forr administrator Béost and Mada Pualis's lady's maid, Cathy, were now Heretic Spellmasters, and that Mada Pualis had left Cordu before Lent, Lumian realized he wouldn't glean any more information from Louis Lund.

Knowing when to stop, Lumian posed a direct question, "Where does Mada Pualis reside now?"

"In Quartier de No?l…" Louis Lund instinctively moved to cover his mouth but added another detail. "Rue de Scotch Broom…"

Rue de Scotch Broom in Quartier de No?l… A map of Trier from a magazine article flashed through Lumian's mind.

Quartier de No?l lay northeast of Le Marché du Quartier du Gentleman, divided by the Srenzo River. It was renowned for its nurous hospitals, including the Veterans' Ho and Wounded Soldiers' Hospital. Additionally, being situated in the suburbs, it boasted a fair share of farmland.

Lumian refrained from pressuring Louis Lund or intensifying his desire to extract more information. Instead, he smiled and said, "I bear no ill intentions towards Mada. I rely wish to speak with her about the events in Cordu.

"I will allow you to depart. Please inform Mada Pualis that if she is willing to et with , she can choose the ti and place. Ah, please send your response to Room 302, 9 Rue des Pavés, Quartier du Jardin Botanique, before tomorrow night."

It was a safe house Lumian had prepared in Quartier du Jardin Botanique, and now it would finally serve its purpose.

Louis Lund let out a sigh of relief before responding cautiously, "Got it."

Anxious thoughts plagued him, fearing that Lumian might allow him to depart only to trail behind him. Yet, considering Lumian's evident capability to uncover Mada's precise whereabouts without pressing the issue, Louis Lund found himself compelled to place his trust in Lumian's amicability.

He then gestured towards his shorts and remarked, "I cannot leave dressed like this."

-x-X-x-