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 apartment.

"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, "Something 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 me to end the performance early and switch tonight's theme 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 movements between men and women 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 time 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 member'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 home would be quite troublesome. 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 performed 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 informed 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 name of a man from the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society, a member of an official organization in Trier. His rank seemed 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 elements 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 movement 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 meet me, 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 cosmetics, busying himself with preparations.

He opted for subtle alterations, focusing on thickening his eyebrows, accentuating his cheekbones, and enhancing shadowy areas. The adjustments created an impression that it was indeed Ciel and not someone 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 immediately 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 merchant-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 enlightenment as she recognized the golden-black hair. Baron Brignais, Giant Simon, and the rest gradually "realized" that it was Ciel.

Adjusting his black-framed glasses, Superintendent Everett's blue eyes gleamed 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.

"Come, have a seat here.

"Let me 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 meeting for the first time," 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 members 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 handsome individual. Even in a seated position, his imposing height was evident, complementing his dark breeches shirt splendidly.

Castina, petite and likely under 1.55 meters 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 me will never fade."

"Baldy" Harman's eyes brimmed 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, come to me. I'll mediate 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 me directly."

Lumian observed Roger, Harman, and Castina with a sense of amusement, realizing that their eyes held no mercy, 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 me 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-framed glasses, rendering them inscrutable.

Nevertheless, he made no attempt to halt Lumian's actions. It was as though he had transformed into a mere 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 mediation.

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

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 blame 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 embellishment 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 extreme rage.

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

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

"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 flames 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 time, his eyes widening in alarm.

The bullet grazed his glistening scalp and careened off, ricocheting into the adjacent washroom with a metallic 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 aimed it once more at "Baldy" Harman, his gaze devoid of any emotion.

"Enough!"

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

The indescribable authority emanating from him, combined with his esteemed 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.

Lamenting 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-framed 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 me. Trust me, that's a predicament 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 permeated 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 testament to the existence of such a mob.

The leaders of the Savoie Mob, the Poison Spur Mob, and the other two medium-sized gangs fell into silence for a few seconds before responding to Superintendent Everett's words. They expressed their commitment 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 moment arrives, none of you will be able to escape.

"Just a moment ago, there were only three members 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 extreme!

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 troublesome." "Blood Palm" Black shook his head.

Franca shared the same concern. She wished to caution Lumian that such a course of action would render him unwelcome 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, chimed in, "It's nearly impossible to conceal that from official Beyonders. It's merely an excuse."

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

This was indeed a fragment 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 come to his aid. With one of the Savoie Mob's leaders on his side, the others wouldn't hesitate to act. When the time came, 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 scheme, 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 merely 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 Madame 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 parliamentary candidates whose demise would incite an uproar.

After a few moments 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-brimmed 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 moment 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, Madame Susie," Lumian responded, concealing his surprise.

While Lumian didn't intentionally observe the customers 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 Madame 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 treatment?"

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 mental problems and lead you down a self-destructive path until your innate will to live is completely overwhelmed," Susie commented 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 treatment as a foundation for unlocking more memories 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 moment 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 time 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 time trickled away, Lumian's rigid posture softened as he sank into the plush sofa.

He refrained from delving into further details. Time 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 merely mentioned his encounter with a pen pal of Aurore's—a Sequence 7 Witch of the Demoness pathway, who happened to be in the same mob.

Likewise, he provided only a brief mention 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 time. Sometimes, I question why every human and dog in Trier seems to possess Beyonder powers."

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

"How can you tell?" Lumian didn't mention 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 mental 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 mere acquaintances!

Susie responded with a smile, "Friendship comes 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 someone prone to self-destruction, a sign of their emergence 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 moment before speaking again, "Madame Susie, there's something I'd like to ask you. I mentioned a series of coincidences that have befallen me. 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 treatment? You need not burden yourself…"

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

"If it were the last time, 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 demeanor, 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 merely prevents you from perceiving me, even when I am standing right before you and numerous others have already witnessed my presence."

"Sounds very magical…" Lumian sighed with a sense of wonder. For some 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 concealment 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 someone observing me 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 enlightenment.

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 Madame Susie's explanation… Lumian mumbled curiously and asked, "Aren't you concerned that revealing your pathway's Beyonder powers to me 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 measures. Even if they're far away from you, they can subtly influence you, causing you to unknowingly follow their arrangements and create various coincidences.

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

High-Sequence Beyonder… Lumian was alarmed.

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

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

"It wasn't me," 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 time too?"

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

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

Across from me? 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 someone 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 memory from his sister Aurore flashed through his mind. She had once mentioned 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 assumed a more relaxed and lighthearted tone.

"It seems the newspaper has left a lasting impression on you. Does that mean 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 memories, 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 moment.

"Yes."

Whenever he noticed any coincidences around him, he would occasionally recall his recent experiences and meticulously scrutinize the corresponding details. Now, he was merely 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 memory that should have been present was now a void!

In that moment, 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 me!

"H—His name is Termiboros!"

At last, Lumian recollected something that had slipped his memory.

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 demeanor.

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

He truthfully replied, "Yes, He attempted to entice me 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 immediate apprehension.

The unknown was always the most terrifying.

She continued, "In ancient times, 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 means.

"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 remember 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 predicament."

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

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 treatment 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 something."

"I can perceive an improvement in your mental state," affirmed Susie, echoing Lumian's sentiments.

Taking advantage of the moment, 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 time, 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 message eluded your understanding?"

She didn't say anything… Lumian pondered for a moment, 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 predicament would undoubtedly resurface!

Isn't it too ambiguous? Or does she assume 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 demeanor exhibited by the Psychiatrist seated opposite him when addressing Madam Magician.

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

To which cards do they correspond?

After making some adjustments, Lumian sought clarification about his mental state.

"The mere thought of meeting Louis Lund fills me with anxiety, excitement, 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 comes 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 overwhelmed, 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 mental state to stabilize.

He pondered and asked, "Manage them?"

How do I do that?

Susie replied, "The simplest method 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 time 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 become accustomed to self-reflection during times of heightened emotion, the issue will become more manageable.

"Are you willing to give it a try?"

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

At some 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 remember was her concluding statement: "The trigger has been set. If all goes well, it will last for two weeks, perfectly timed for your next session. At that point, we can decide whether to make any adjustments."

Lumian briefly acknowledged her words and assessed his mental state.

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

-x-X-x-

"Of course," came 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 became 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 emerged near its main entrance, while the rest of the darkness loomed like an ominous shadow.

Lumian meandered aimlessly toward the adjacent cemetery.

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

A group of men 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 men 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 resentment.

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 cemetery next to the cathedral… I shouted at them, wanted to do something… and then I woke up."

Susie listened attentively and spoke calmly.

"This time, 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 fragments of what actually happened. There might be overlaps in time 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 cemetery?"

"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 somewhere in the cemetery, 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 outcome wasn't favorable. Otherwise, your recent dream would have reflected some of that content."

Lumian fell silent for a moment before speaking again.

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

Part of his anguish stemmed 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 numerous 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 aimed 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 time. 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 calmer 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 treatment. You're ready to face Louis Lund, Madame 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 some point, but ordinarily, I am forbidden to recollect His honorific name. Do you—either of you—possess a means 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 name with 'That Being' to safeguard against its impact.

"While under protection, you may freely remember and speak His name 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 welcome. 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 mental state.

Seizing the moment, he replayed the entire treatment process in his mind, and an inexplicable feeling settled upon him. Madam Susie's last statement seemed somewhat peculiar.

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

It's understandable, but what if my condition doesn't improve as expected? Will she advise me to give up the opportunity to meet Louis Lund? But what if Louis Lund emerged 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 me against approaching Madame 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 messenger 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-brimmed hat atop his head, Lumian strolled to a spot diagonally across from "Black Scorpion" Roger's house, roughly 20 meters 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 time ticked by, the sun descended on the horizon, casting a dwindling light. The lamplighters commenced their task, igniting the gas lamps one by one.

At that moment, 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 merely passing by; he was approaching someone.

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 customer.

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 emerged 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 some 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 emergence 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 moment, 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, temperament, 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-framed 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 me at the rear entrance."

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

On one hand, the Prophetic Concoction derived from his body's response, rendering it somewhat unreliable. There might be omissions within the prophecy. On the other hand, the manifestation of a prophecy could assume 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 immediately turn around. Beneath the glow of street lamps, he pressed onward.

Just as he reached a dimly lit section, a figure emerged 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 formed a conjecture and hastened towards her.

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

This time, 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 me, but she never mentioned 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, merging 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.

Emerging 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 concealment. 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 time, 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 meters 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 emerged a glass bottle.

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

"When I lived as a man, I found these perfume bottles to be beautifully crafted, but I felt too self-conscious to buy them or carry them with me. Now, I have no such concerns. Sometimes, 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 men? 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.

"Remember its scent."

The perfume was refreshing and natural, akin to strolling through a forest on a summer'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 meters 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 perfume from a distance of ten to twenty meters?"

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 Hermes 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 named Louis Lund emerged, 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 meet Madame Pualis in person? Lumian furrowed his brow in slight confusion.

This introduced new variables to his plan.

Originally, Lumian intended to find an opportune moment 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 become considerably more troublesome.

From the midwife's performance in his dream, Lumian deduced that a Heretic Spellmaster possessed numerous 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 meet Madame Pualis, I'll follow him instead of attacking. My objective is to locate Madame 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 meters.

After a while, he sensed the perfume come to a halt. Advancing another ten meters, 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. Meanwhile, "Black Scorpion" Roger ventured into the market alone.

Is Madame Pualis at Le Marché du Quartier du Gentleman? Or is "Black Scorpion" Roger merely 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 time. He removed his black-framed 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 some 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 moment, 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 seemed 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 movement, 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 home.

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 meters 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 elements—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 time-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 some 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 assume Louis Lund's former 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 consume 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 immediate 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 merged 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 measures 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 merely 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. Madame is already aware of my past transgressions and has granted me forgiveness."

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

Recollections from his dream emerged—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 Madame Pualis's involvement with the padre.

In retrospect, those accounts might have been fallacious.

If the padre truly harbored desires for Madame 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 Madame Pualis had numerous lovers, making it easy for his subconscious to forge connections.

Compared to the secrets housed within Madame Pualis's castle, Louis Lund's affair and the pilfering of collections appeared as innocuous as mundane meals 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 merely 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 shameless individual I have ever encountered.

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

"That's correct. In those days, I entertained the thought of betraying Madame 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 something amiss in the village and embarked on a certain investigation? Lumian nodded, satisfied, and smiled. "When did you come 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 me 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. "Madame has already erased them!"

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

"I'm curious to know how Madame 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 Madame Pualis employing her Beyonder abilities to remotely impregnate him.

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

Louis Lund was taken aback by the question. After a few moments, 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.

Madame 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 came 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 lamented the loss of life. "During that time, 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 time, 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, "Some were shepherds originally, like Pierre Berry, Niort Best, and the others. Some were the padre's mistresses, such as Sybil Berry, Madonna Bénet, and Philippa Guillaume. 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 mentioned by Louis Lund… In other words, the battle scenes I witnessed were derived from a fragment 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 Madame Pualis go?"

-x-X-x-

Louis Lund shook his head.

"I've got no idea, but when Madame came 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 Madame Pualis had indeed been engaged in a fight with someone else. Lumian asked with curiosity, "Why didn't Madame 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.

"Madame 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 fragments of their original memories and can only exist for seven days."

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

He diverted the topic.

"What did Madame 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 Madame 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 home and experience the joy of reunion. By redeeming their sins, they can be reborn, emerging from the Mother's womb as human fetuses."

"Paramita?" Lumian remembered 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 Madame Pualis.

Louis Lund shook his head slowly.

"Madame briefly mentioned it, but it was very vague.

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

A part? What would happen if those Madames 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 Madame Pualis's Sequence now?"

"Madame's condition is rather peculiar. It might be related to the destruction of her Paramita or something 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 blamed himself or felt anxious. He felt a sense of relief and relaxation.

"Madame should be somewhere between Sequence 5 and Sequence 4. At times, she exudes an imposing aura that makes people afraid to meet her gaze. Other times, she lacks such grandeur."

It's reminiscent of the state Madame Pualis displayed in my dream… Lumian recalled and stated, "Sequence 9 Villain, Sequence 8 Gardener, Sequence 7 Heretic Spellmaster, Sequence 6 Sower… What comes 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 Madame, is Sequence 4. I don't know what lies beyond that. I'm merely a Gardener. I don't possess the right to receive any further boons and advance to become a Heretic Spellmaster."

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

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

"That's correct," Louis Lund affirmed, 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 Madame can provide them. Unfortunately, Naroka passed away suddenly before fully embracing Paramita. Madame suspects that she discovered the padre's scheme 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 met the same fate.

Sighing, Lumian changed the subject.

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

Louis Lund contemplated for a moment 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 me and nearly drove me insane. I was desperate to leave Madame.

"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 time went on, I noticed that the other residents of the castle were becoming increasingly peculiar. The administrator locked himself and Madame in their rooms on two separate occasions, coinciding with the birth of a child each time. My valets and maids often did the same, and Madame was remarkably understanding of their behavior.

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

Louis Lund, originally intending to speak of Guillaume 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 Madame's abnormality to him. I suspected she might be a follower of an evil deity. He instructed me to keep it hidden and not expose myself, assuring me 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 me.

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

"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 seemed 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 mentioned 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 merely followed certain folk traditions to ward off any changes in their fate. Specific discussions regarding these matters were rare.

With the understanding that former administrator Béost and Madame Pualis's lady's maid, Cathy, were now Heretic Spellmasters, and that Madame 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 Madame 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 numerous hospitals, including the Veterans' Home 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 Madame. I merely wish to speak with her about the events in Cordu.

"I will allow you to depart. Please inform Madame Pualis that if she is willing to meet with me, she can choose the time 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 Madame'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-