85 COI

Recalling Franca's meeting with 007 tonight to discuss dealing with Moran Avigny, Lumian decided to summon Jenna's messenger, Rabbit Chasel, as he had to return to Trier tomorrow to discuss the division of labor and specific details.

After jotting down Madam Magician's request and folding it, Lumian set up a ritual, allowing the special Rabbit of Knowledge to emerge from the candle's flames.

The first thing Lumian noticed was the miniature half top hat snugly perched between the rabbit's ears. Next, he saw gold-rimmed glasses and a black trench coat that matched the vaguely rabbit-shaped creature's size. Finally, an iron-black revolver lay in the rabbit's palm.

The revolver gleamed with a metallic luster, its barrel unusually thick, and its cylinder unnaturally large and textured. It stood in stark contrast to the illusory appearance of the top hat, trench coat, and gold-rimmed glasses.

Upon seeing Rabbit Chasel, Lumian raised his eyebrows.

"Is this a real gun?"

Hidden behind the gold-rimmed glasses, Rabbit Chasel's eyes sharpened.

"Yes."

"Did Jenna customize it for you?" Lumian inquired.

Rabbit Chasel replied succinctly, "It's payment."

Quite a cold demeanor… Miss Celia Bello, have you considered the consequences of what you've done? You haven't! Because I don't know the consequences either unless I consult Madam Magician… Lumian criticized inwardly before handing the folded letter to Rabbit Chasel.

Seeing the human-like, rabbit-shaped creature preparing to turn and walk into the candle flame, Lumian, the Prankster King of Cordu, asked with interest, "Can you shoot?"

Rabbit Chasel fell silent for a moment, as if embarrassed.

"Not yet."

Oh, you're not as cold as Gehrman Sparrow anymore… Lumian chuckled and said, "Jenna and I are friends. I'll help her pay the postage fee this time.

"Do you want to learn shooting? It involves knowledge and guidance."

Rabbit Chasel, taller than an ordinary rabbit, replied without hesitation, "Sure thing."

Lumian's smile broadened.

After finding a secluded spot at the edge of the primitive forest and earnestly teaching Rabbit Chasel how to shoot for a considerable time, Lumian strolled back to Tizamo with his hands in his pockets, planning to visit the only café for afternoon tea.

The café bore the name "Bunia" after its owner, a man named Bunia.

He was under the age of 30. Having once served as a waiter and apprentice at a café in Port Pylos, Bunia, recalling the lack of a proper café in Tizamo Town, transformed the ground floor of his house into a semi-open café.

Lumian, weaving through the tables and chairs on the street, arrived at the kitchen counter, offering a smile to the proprietor and waiter, Bunia.

"Do you have Fermo coffee?"

Bunia's brown skin, not too dark, and his features resembling those of mixed blood, showcased his Tizamon heritage.

The man in his late twenties responded with an honest smile in fluent Intisian.

"Monsieur, there's no Fermo coffee."

Lumian, intending to playfully inquire, casually switched to a cup of Corsa coffee from Matani.

Sipping the bitter and sweet liquid at a table, he noticed Camus, adorned in a vest, and Rhea, clad in leather armor, entering the café. Each ordered an Intis coffee and a corn nutcake imbued with Tizamo flair.

Upon spotting Rhea, the single Bunia became even more bashful and busier, avoiding eye contact.

As Camus and Rhea, equipped with their coffee and corn nutcakes, sought a spot, Lumian raised his arm in greeting.

As Camus and Rhea reluctantly settled into their seats across from him, Lumian inquired with a smile, "Why do you look so tired?"

Glancing at the energetic adventurer, Camus took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

"We just finished work. We can finally rest."

Yesterday, he had monitored the Brieu Motel late into the night!

"All I want now is a good night's sleep." After exploring the dream together last night, Rhea wasn't as reticent as before when facing Lumian.

"Then why are you still drinking coffee?" Lumian replied with amusement.

It was evident that Rhea and Camus lacked the energy of a Sleepless.

"I want to endure until dinner before sleeping," Camus said with a sigh.

Rhea shook her head.

"Coffee is useless to me."

After a brief chat, Rhea finished her corn nutcake and coffee, then headed back to the nearby police headquarters to rest. Camus continued to recline in the armchair, occasionally taking a sip of coffee.

"Has Reaza arrived?" Lumian inquired with a smile.

Camus fell silent for a moment.

"He's here. Tonight, one of the two—Maslow and Loban—will be following you with him."

As for Kolobo, there was no need for him to be on duty. If he didn't even dare to look, how could he do any monitoring?

While they conversed, Lumian noticed Miss Amandina from Palm Manor leading a short unicorn outside the Bunia café, exuding high spirits.

The blue-eyed girl was clad in off-white hunting attire today, her black hair fashioned into a half-height bun.

After entrusting the whip and reins to the brown-skinned valet, she strolled to the kitchen counter with her lady's maid, who also bore an Intisian appearance.

Along the way, she cheerfully greeted the patrons in the café and exchanged pleasantries with the locals sipping on inexpensive coffee.

Observing Camus's gaze fixed on the girl, Lumian teased, "Do you wish to engage in a duel with her fiancé?"

"No, I'm not that kind of person," Camus replied with a serious expression. "I admit that she's indeed very attractive to me, but she's already engaged to Monsieur Robert. This is a sign that she's starting a family. I can't allow myself to destroy someone else's family."

You Feynapotterians… Lumian didn't mock him but sighed with emotion.

Such values appealed to Feynapotter.

Of course, not every Feynapotterian possessed such values.

Seeing Lumian's lack of response, Camus said seriously, "Don't have any ideas about her."

Lumian regarded the young man surnamed Castiya with amusement, awaiting further "explanation."

Camus furrowed his brow slightly.

"I know you Intisians won't back down just because the other party has a fiancé or a husband. You might find it even more exciting, but you always pursue momentary pleasure. Very few are willing to take responsibility. You always satisfy yourself. When you're happy, you turn around and leave, leaving a lady to face everything that's been destroyed."

"Not every Intisian is like this," Lumian shook his head with a smile.

But most Trieriens are like that… However, neither party is innocent in such matters… he added inwardly.

The energetic and playful Amandina led the lady's maid past Camus and Lumian's table.

First, she greeted Camus, then sized up Lumian and said candidly, "I'm Amandina. What about you?"

"Louis Berry," Lumian replied with a smile.

Amandina nodded and suddenly laughed.

"You must have just arrived from Trier. You're different from the people here."

"No, I'm from a village in the south," Lumian switched to Intisian with a Dariège accent.

Amandina wasn't disappointed. She happily inquired about the folklore of the southern provinces of the Intis Republic before leading the lady's maid to a table in the corner.

Camus watched as the two of them conversed. He opened his mouth but closed it again.

…

Trier, Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative.

Jenna was curled up on the sofa, engrossed in the novels she had just bought, all with elements of Witches. Suddenly, Rabbit Chasel appeared in front of her and handed her a letter.

Observing the bizarre yet adorable rabbit-shaped creature, Jenna opened the letter and scanned its contents before asking earnestly, "Do you wish to select your payment, or shall I choose a random book for you?"

"Lumian Lee has already settled the payment on your behalf," Rabbit Chasel said in a deep yet sincere voice.

Witch Jenna suddenly felt a sense of foreboding.

"What has he paid?"

"He imparted shooting-related knowledge to me and guided me through the initial stage of my practice," Rabbit Chasel raised the special revolver in his hand, briefly aimed it at the door behind Jenna, and then swiftly lowered it.

Wh— Monsieur Lumian Lee, have you considered the consequences of what you've done? Jenna chided, feeling a mix of irritation and amusement.

However, the deed was done, and she was powerless to reverse it.

As these thoughts raced through her mind, Jenna's lips curved into a sweet smile.

"The next payment will be for a genuine underarm holster. And after that, custom-made bullets with special effects. How does that sound?"

Behind his glass glasses, Rabbit Chasel's eyes sparkled.

"Alright!"

…

In Tizamo Town, night had already fallen, and darkness shrouded the area.

Lumian stood in Hisoka's house, glancing at the stern vice-

captain of the Port Pylos patrol team, Reaza, and the local patrol team leader, Maslow, whose face was adorned with white paint. As though instructing Lugano, he said, "Watch out for any accidents."

This time, he spoke in Dutanese.

"Alright." It wasn't the first time Maslow had accompanied Louis Berry, the great adventurer, and he was already accustomed to his style.

Dressed in a sleek formal suit, Reaza remained silent, signaling that there was no issue.

Lumian retrieved the brown Mystery Prying Glasses from his Traveler's Bag.

Tonight, his first task was to use this magical item to observe Hisoka's house from various angles, hoping to unveil the source of its abnormality.

After confirming his condition and preparations, Lumian placed the brown gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose.

A familiar wave of dizziness washed over Lumian, as if his surroundings had been disrupted and reassembled.

He witnessed poisonous insects crawling in the "sky," two walls that seemed to dance in circles, and an underground water puddle deep in the soil that appeared to absorb all light.

-x-X-x-

Amidst the dizzying sensation that threatened to separate his spirit from his body, Lumian saw trees that seemed to slumber in the darkness and a pitch-black boulder…

Finally, he removed the brown glasses from his nose and arched his back slightly to alleviate the discomfort.

Even an Ascetic wouldn't be able to use the Mystery Prying Glasses for long.

Of course, this ensured his safety to a certain degree.

Through this "prying," Lumian confirmed two things.

First, the area beneath Hisoka's house was indeed unusual, but it seemed more like an illusory symbol than an actual entity. It indicated that this place had once been corrupted or influenced, with the most severe occurrence taking place underground.

Second, this influence was connected to the black boulder deep within the primitive forest.

"How did it go?" Maslow, his face painted white, asked.

Lumian stored the Mystery Prying Glasses back into his Traveler's Bag and smiled.

"The abnormality I 'saw' here originates from a black boulder deep in the primitive forest. Have you ever seen or heard of that black boulder?"

The pale-white Reaza and Maslow, his black hair falling over his shoulders, shook their heads in unison, indicating a negative answer.

Lumian wasn't in a rush to do the second thing he had planned for the night. He glanced at Reaza, who was wearing a thin formal suit and appeared to be a mix of Intisian and West Balam heritage. He casually said, "I thought that with your arrival, some people in Tizamo would gradually leave and stay in Port Pylos for a while.

"As you know, the Dream Festival should start within three days."

Reaza calmly replied, "Based on my experience, except for those who have only arrived in Tizamo in the past two weeks, it's best not to leave this place and go elsewhere to prevent any abnormalities from spreading.

"It should only be considered after the Dream Festival ends and the primitive tribe launches another attack."

Very standardized process… I thought you would consider the opinions of Intis, Feynapotter, and other Northern Continent countries, allowing people with corresponding nationalities to evacuate in advance and protect them. For example, the owners of the plantations outside the city and their families… Yes, this is likely because the Dream Festival has never shown direct harm. It only caused some townsfolk to suffer from hysteria and attracted an attack from the forest's primitive tribe. The first situation could be resolved by a simple Mass. The second problem could be guarded against and fended off… Lumian roughly understood the mentality of Admiral Querarill and the patrol team's leaders.

Since there wouldn't be any major issues, they would act as if the Dream Festival didn't exist, merely advising the local official Beyonders to be vigilant and guard against any mishaps while hoping that the Church of The Fool could resolve the hidden dangers!

If they were to do more, they might trigger something and worsen the situation.

After discussing the matter, Lumian recovered from the discomfort caused by the Mystery Prying Glasses. He took out the unique Eye of Truth and placed it in front of his face.

The relatively handsome Southern Continent native's eyelids twitched at the sight of the pale-white flesh, dark blood vessel-like earmuff and spectacle temple, as well as the blood-colored lens intertwined with transparent purple tubes.

How many glasses does Louis Berry own?

Moreover, each one is a mystical item!

After donning the single-lens Eye of Truth, Lumian surveyed his surroundings, seeking to uncover the truth behind reality.

As he did so, a voice gradually sounded in his ears, growing louder and more chaotic.

Each note and word seemed to materialize, flooding into Lumian's mind.

It made him feel as if his head was rapidly expanding like a balloon.

If the balloon continued to expand, there would only be one outcome: bursting with a resounding bang!

Lumian reached for his ear, ready to remove the Eye of Truth at any moment. He seized the opportunity to scrutinize Hisoka's house.

He believed that it was safer to take the risk of prying into the house's secrets before the Dream Festival, while not inside the special dream. It was safer than using the Eye of Truth and Mystery Prying Glasses within the dream itself.

Through the purple lens, Lumian couldn't discern much of the truth. Everything appeared similar to what he could see with his naked eye, but the night seemed even darker.

Without hesitation, his eye bulged, and blood vessels appeared on his body. He abruptly removed the Eye of Truth, and a slightly sharp explosion reverberated in his ears.

Phew, phew… Panting heavily, Lumian's mind was in disarray, overwhelmed by a barrage of strange knowledge. He couldn't think straight.

At that moment, even if someone were to ambush him, he wouldn't be able to react quickly.

After more than ten seconds, Lumian finally regained his ability to think clearly. He instinctively organized the knowledge that had been forcefully injected into his mind.

"The art of sophistry…

"How to cultivate superior wheat seeds…

"Canning techniques…

"How to roast pork that's crispy on the outside and tender on the inside…

"Music to soothe a sow's emotions…

"The Revelation of Evernight…

"Favorite Positions of Celebrities—Memoirs of Those Mistresses"

"…"

What's all this nonsense? Can't there be any useful knowledge? In the past, although Aurore had been tormented by the Hidden Sage's instillation of knowledge, she had at least stumbled upon valuable mysticism insights. Wait, had she also been corrupted by such knowledge? Is that why she always portrays a rich theoretical understanding in her books… Lumian rubbed his still throbbing head and said to Reaza and Maslow, "I'm going to the edge of the forest to take a look. Do you want to come with me?"

Reaza nodded, stingy with his words, while Maslow made his stance clear by walking towards the stairs.

If Camus were here, he would undoubtedly smile wryly and say, "Do I have a choice?" Lumian mused to himself. He left Hisoka's house and made his way towards the primitive forest near Tizamo Town.

After crossing the intersection and arriving at another street, Lumian noticed a four-wheeled, four-seater carriage parked at the entrance of the Brieu Motel.

An attendant and a lady's maid stepped out of the carriage, carrying their luggage, and followed a man and a woman towards the motel.

The man was attired in a dark-gray formal suit and a half top hat. His complexion resembled that of someone from the Northern Continent, and his side profile was well-defined, with striking dark green eyes. The woman wore a light-

colored dress that allowed for ease of movement and a feathered hat adorned with pearls. She appeared to be in her late twenties, and her skin was delicate and radiant. One would easily determine that she was a beauty just from glimpsing her side profile.

Lumian averted his gaze and turned to Reaza and Maslow.

"Is it the weekend?"

"No," Maslow replied, understanding the implication behind Louis Berry's question. "Gentlemen and ladies often find time to hunt in Tizamo, not just on weekends."

Lumian turned to Reaza and inquired, "You didn't seal off this area?"

"That would only cause unnecessary panic," Reaza responded succinctly.

Lumian didn't press the matter further. He walked out of the town through the Brieu Motel and ventured into the primitive forest.

He delved deeper along the path he had become familiar with from the dream.

Finally, he arrived at the chaotic zone in reality, where various dream fragments intertwined.

It was an unremarkable place, indistinguishable from its surroundings.

Lumian found a palm tree and sat down. He turned to Reaza and Maslow and said, "Keep an eye on my surroundings. I'm going to sleep here."

He wanted to see what would happen if he fell asleep closer to the source of the abnormality, if he could enter that peculiar dream, and in what state.

Receiving affirmative responses from the two patrol team members, Lumian closed his eyes and attempted Cogitation.

At some point, he drifted off to sleep.

After an unknown period, he awoke.

Catching sight of Reaza and Maslow, Lumian rose to his feet and nodded thoughtfully.

This place doesn't work either… Is Hisoka's house the only effective location?

Or should I find that black boulder and sleep near it?

Lumian gazed into the pitch-black forest, contemplating for a few moments before turning to Reaza and Maslow.

"Let's head back."

The trio swiftly returned to Tizamo.

The late night had settled in, and the streets were devoid of any passersby. No lights or sounds emanated from the houses on either side. Occasionally, the snorts of livestock on the ground floor of the buildings could be heard, accentuating the pervading darkness and silence. The dim crimson moon's light seemed to emphasize the depths of the darkness.

On this dark night, Lumian walked along a muddy road, heading towards the Brieu Motel situated deep within the street. Reaza and Maslow followed quietly behind him.

Suddenly, Lumian's mind spun, and his vision momentarily blurred before clearing.

This is… His pupils dilated as he instinctively scanned his surroundings but found nothing amiss.

At that moment, in a vacant house on the ground floor diagonally ahead, a dim candlelight illuminated a room on the third floor.

Immediately after, glass windows on this street and throughout Tizamo Town were set aglow by the light of burning candles.

...

Rhea awoke to find that darkness had already descended, but the candles in many houses continued to burn.

This indicated that it wasn't too late.

Feeling lazy, Rhea had no desire to prepare her own food. Carrying her bow and arrows, she left the room and exited the police headquarters from the side, making her way towards the nearby Bunia café.

The streets were nearly deserted, as they were every night.

Rhea glanced at the tables and chairs still scattered along the street and approached the kitchen counter. In Dutanese, she said to the busy café owner and waiter, Bunia, who had his head lowered, "A glass of Cosa and a beef burrito."

Bunia paused in the midst of washing cups and looked up.

His naturally curly black hair gave him a mixed-blood appearance. He looked at Rhea and revealed an obvious, strange smile that made Rhea inexplicably uneasy.

Rhea knew Bunia well and was aware that he was a shy, kind, and adult man who wasn't particularly adept at communicating with women. He had never smiled like this before.

Bunia fixed his gaze on Rhea and chuckled in a deep voice.

"You've got big boobs."

-x-X-x-

Upon hearing Bunia's words, Rhea was so surprised that she forgot her anger.

It wasn't the first time she had encountered such a situation. She was shocked that a man who had left a good impression on her would show such an expression and say such words.

And this was when they weren't even friends!

At that moment, Rhea wondered if she was still half-asleep. She also questioned whether Bunia had suffered a mental illness or succumbed to hysteria as the Dream Festival drew near.

Amidst Rhea's bewilderment, Bunia's smile intensified.

He extended his hands across the kitchen counter and attempted to grab Rhea's chest.

Instinctively, Rhea leaned back, attempting to dodge.

After failing to touch her, Bunia retracted his hands, propped himself up on the kitchen counter, and leaped up. Amidst the clinking of coffee cups and glass jars, he lunged at Rhea, who was leaning back.

This reaction, this choice, and this display of power caught Rhea off guard. She didn't have time to remove the bow and arrow from her back. Her waist bent backward, and her right foot kicked up like the other end of a seesaw, sending the transformed Bunia café owner flying.

Simultaneously, a thought flashed through Rhea's mind.

Has he truly lost his mind?

Crash. Bunia crashed to the side of the kitchen counter.

Rhea exerted strength in her back and stood up straight again. Then, she took off her hunting bow, nocked an arrow, and aimed at Bunia, who had just stood up.

A look of fear crossed Bunia's face. He froze for a moment before pleading, "Don't—don't kill me!

"I suddenly lost control just now!"

Looking at Bunia's pleading and fearful face, Rhea found him both familiar and unfamiliar. The arrow on the bowstring was drawn back, but she didn't release it.

…

Entering the streets of Tizamo Town from the primitive forest, Lumian observed the illuminated houses on both sides and scoffed.

"Is this supposed to be terrifying and bizarre?"

This wasn't the first time he had encountered such a scene. In Fourth Epoch Trier, he had witnessed a similar occurrence. Not only had the dark town regained its lights, but the entire Fourth Epoch Trier had transitioned from silence to noisiness, returning to life.

Faced with this abnormality, Lumian was undoubtedly surprised and highly vigilant. However, he wasn't overwhelmed by intense emotions. On the surface, he observed his surroundings leisurely.

He realized that Reaza and Maslow had vanished. The two patrol team members who should have been following him were gone.

Since it can silently make two Beyonders disappear right under my nose, it can definitely make me vanish just like that… In other words, I must have been affected. There's a high chance that the trance was an external manifestation…

From a mysticism perspective, the town, which had already fallen into a deep slumber, relighting without any significant turn of events, signifies that I'm in another scene, one that is originally related but different…

Could it be that I've been forced into a dream?

Has the Dream Festival officially begun?

I didn't sleep in Hisoka's house. Why am I still awake?

Combined with the ongoing investigation, Lumian quickly deduced the current situation.

At that moment, he spotted a figure emerging from a glass window diagonally ahead, surrounded by wooden planks and weeds.

It was a local man in his early forties, with dark brown skin, brown eyes, black hair, and thick lips.

Lumian had seen him before. He was a hunting guide, responsible for leading gentlemen and ladies from Port Pylos and other places into the forest for hunting.

Lumian's impression of him was that he always wore a fawning smile. No matter what others said, he would respond with a string of affirmatives. He never showed anger, even when punished by the gentlemen and ladies he guided.

Upon seeing Lumian, the hunting guide's lips curled into a cruel smile.

He pushed open the window and raised his other hand, revealing a double-barreled shotgun.

"Die, you Northern Continent dog!"

As the hunting guide cursed, he aimed his double-barreled shotgun at Lumian and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Bang!

A massive amount of lead spread out in a cone, enveloping the corresponding area.

As the hunting guide took aim, Lumian sidestepped and rolled to the other side of the street.

What greeted his eyes were the previously quiet cows, sheep, and horses.

At that moment, the eyes of these animals seemed to turn bloodshot.

Supporting himself with one hand, Lumian leaped up. Amidst the high-pitched mooing and the hunting guide's aim, he leaped to the middle of the stairs leading to the second floor.

"Ah!" A scream suddenly pierced the air, then stopped abruptly.

The door on the second floor swung open, and Lumian was confronted by a young man drenched in bright red blood. He held a massive axe dripping with the crimson liquid, and behind him lay the mangled corpse of an old man in his fifties, the wound carved deep into his chest.

Lumian, who had been wandering Tizamo Town for days, was no stranger to these two individuals.

Lying on the ground, his eyes wide open, was the leathersmith of Tizamo Town. He would purchase the hides of wild beasts brought back by gentlemen, ladies, and town hunters who didn't want to handle them themselves, processing them and selling the finished products.

The axe-wielding figure was his eldest son, who had studied nitrification, tanning, and other leather production techniques from him. He was known as an obedient young man, and his father wasn't an old-fashioned leathersmith who resorted to physical or verbal violence.

This was a characteristic of the people of Tizamo. They were docile, calm, and devoid of intense emotions.

And now, it appeared that the leathersmith's eldest son had just cleaved his father to death.

Upon seeing Lumian, the lad's eyes overflowed with a bloodthirsty smile.

With a shout, he swung his axe at Lumian. On the other side, the hunting guide began reloading his double-barreled shotgun with new lead rounds.

Lumian's body suddenly turned ethereal, merging with his shadow and vanishing into the darkness beside the steps.

Shadow Transformation!

After using this ability to sneak towards the police headquarters for a few seconds, Lumian suddenly heard someone pleading for mercy in fear.

He left the shadows and transformed back into a human. He saw Rhea aiming an arrow at the café owner, Bunia, but she didn't release it.

At that moment, a colossal anaconda, as thick as a barrel, emerged from the multi-layered hay at the top of the opposite house, hanging upside down.

It widened its cold eyes and foul-smelling mouth, the patterns on its scales seeming to expand and writhe.

This time, Lumian didn't dodge.

Facing the colossal boa attempting to devour him, his eyes darkened as he swung his fist upward.

In an instant, blazing white flames ignited from his fist, enveloping his entire forearm.

Bang!

Lumian's fist smashed into the colossal boa's gaping maw, tearing through the blood-colored flesh and delivering a devastating uppercut to its upper jaw.

Before it could devour its human prey, the colossal boa's cold eyes lost their luster. Its massive body plummeted due to inertia, but Lumian easily sidestepped the falling serpent and retracted his fist.

Clang!

The colossal boa crashed to the ground, its slippery scaled body engulfed in blazing white flames.

Weakness Investigation!

Lumian approached Rhea, noticing that the patrol team member was also regarding him with a vigilant and puzzled expression. He didn't attack immediately.

She… Lumian's heart stirred as a smile played across his lips.

"Looks like you're still lucid."

Wary of Bunia, Rhea observed Louis Berry for a moment, hesitating before speaking.

"Lucid, you say?"

"Yes." Lumian pointed at Bunia, who was glaring at him with undisguised hatred. "Did he attempt to attack you or even rape you?"

"Yes." Rhea didn't ask how he knew. Instead, she inquired, "What's going on?"

Lumian chuckled in response, stating, "Perhaps we've entered the dream once more, but this time, we're not alone."

He made a preliminary judgment based on Rhea's apparent lucidity.

Perhaps the reason for maintaining his own clarity of mind was falling asleep in Hisoka's house and entering the special dream recently!

He needed to find Camus for further confirmation.

Upon hearing Louis Berry's response, a term suddenly flashed through Rhea's mind.

Before she could voice her thoughts, the sound of three chimes suddenly rang out.

The bell's resonant tones reverberated through the streets of Tizamo, as if summoning the town's inhabitants.

Rhea listened intently, her expression shifting slightly.

"It's the cathedral's bell!"

Cathedral, the Saint-Sien Cathedral? Lumian's thoughts immediately turned to the unsettling Padre Cali. He glanced at Rhea.

"Let's go and investigate."

"Alright," Rhea replied without hesitation.

She lowered her bow, no longer aiming the arrow at the café owner, Bunia, and followed Lumian towards the Saint-Sien Cathedral, which was separated from their current location only by the police headquarters.

Bunia's expression fluctuated between longing and hatred, but he didn't dare to pursue them, held back by fear.

Lumian and Rhea sprinted at a breakneck pace. In mere seconds, they traversed the distance past the police headquarters and arrived at the small square in front of the cathedral.

Padre Cali was already standing at the cathedral's entrance.

However, he was no longer clad in the Eternal Blazing Sun Church clergyman's robe with its white and golden threads. Instead, he had donned a dark and intricately designed robe.

The padre, with his dark-brown skin, sunken eyes, and stiff facial features, gazed out at the empty square before his eyes settled on the newly arrived Lumian and Rhea. He held the Bible aloft and shouted with a frenzied expression, "I hereby declare the official commencement of the Dream Festival!

"During the Dream Festival, there are no taboos or restrictions. You are free to do as you wish, including harming and killing.

"Revel in it and unleash all your emotions and desires, everyone!"

-x-X-x-

Upon hearing Padre Cali's shout, Rhea raised her hunting bow and aimed an arrow wrapped in silver lightning at the clergyman in the complicated black robe. Unlike when she had faced the café owner, Bunia, the anger in her eyes was even more pronounced now, and there was no hesitation. The padre was blaspheming and apostatizing!

At that moment, a slender and powerful palm appeared in front of Rhea's hunting bow, blocking the arrow.

"You…" Rhea turned to Louis Berry, puzzled as to why he had stopped her.

Lumian replied calmly, "Let's wait and see."

As the two of them conversed, Padre Cali revealed a wanton and flamboyant smile. He turned around and walked back to the cathedral with the Bible in his arms.

The golden dome at the cathedral's top and the statues and decorations on the outer walls dimmed under the crimson moonlight.

After Padre Cali's figure disappeared through the cathedral's open door, Rhea looked at Lumian with a dark expression.

"Why?"

Lumian chuckled in response.

"After realizing that this place is suspected to be a dream, I've been pondering a question."

As he spoke, screams and piercing cries reverberated through Tizamo and the surrounding plantations, echoing through the dark night sky.

"What question?" Rhea pressed.

Without giving a direct response, Lumian said, "It's almost certain that we're participating in the Dream Festival.

"Under such circumstances, if you succeed in attacking Padre Cali, what will happen when the Dream Festival concludes and everyone wakes up?"

Without waiting for Rhea's response, Lumian smiled again.

"If you shoot him in the arm, he'll wake up feeling phantom pain in the corresponding location, as if he's suffering from arthritis and his muscles are tearing.

"If you strike his head with a hammer and knock him out, there's a high chance that he'll have a headache, dizziness, and nervous twitches when he returns to reality.

"If you rape and impregnate him, he'll likely feel nauseous, reflux, and bloated, feeling like he might have a fetus in his stomach when he wakes up.

"If you tie him up, continuously electrocute him, and incinerate him with fire, will he feel those sensations in the real world, as if possessed by wraiths or shadows. He may always feel restrained, paralyzed, or in pain."

Rhea listened calmly, not bothering to question why Padre Cali could get pregnant. The more she listened, the more alarmed she became.

This was because Louis Berry's description matched the various manifestations of mass hysteria in Tizamo that the patrol team had gathered.

Lumian turned to Rhea and asked with a smile, "If you had killed Padre Cali with an arrow, what would happen when the dream recedes?"

"He'll die immediately? No…" Rhea denied it.

Tizamo had no incidents of multiple people suddenly dying in their dreams after a night.

Rhea immediately thought of an abnormality.

Between mid-December and mid-March, 80% of the annual deaths in Tizamo occurred, significantly surpassing those in Port Pylos and the surrounding towns.

She changed her words.

"They will gradually die in an irreversible manner within the next three months?"

With a nod, Lumian replied, "I even suspect that the primitive tribe in the forest launched several attacks in those three months mainly to eliminate those who had died in their dreams, allowing them to die reasonably in reality without revealing anything abnormal.

"From December of last year to this year, they only completed one attack. The reason should be that the attack was very successful. Those who should die are dead, and some who don't deserve to die are also dead. There's no need for them to take the risk and they also lost the motivation to come to Tizamo again."

Rhea listened attentively and pondered for a few seconds.

"The Dream Festival originates from that tribe?"

"It's possible. It's more likely that they guard or worship the source and act according to its revelations," Lumian replied simply.

Rhea nodded slightly.

"No wonder you stopped me from shooting Padre Cali. Everyone in Tizamo is likely a victim."

That's why I didn't counterattack the two assailants and only killed the colossal boa with a single punch, Lumian thought. When awoken from the dream, will the colossal boa crawl in front of me and die? If that's the case, I can add more food to Ludwig's plate…

Lumian surveyed the empty square slumbering in the night.

"Let's find Camus now and see if he's still lucid."

…

In Tizamo, on the third floor of the police headquarters, five rooms and one washroom belonged to the patrol team.

One room was used for day-to-day work, while another was used for storing documents and items. The remaining three apartments belonged to the local patrol team members, one for each person.

With the arrival of Camus and Kolobo, Maslow had temporarily moved to Loban's to vacate a room for his colleagues from Port Pylos.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Amidst the reverberations of the bell, Camus jolted awake.

He glanced out the window into the deep night, illuminated by a faint crimson moonlight. Momentarily disoriented, he wondered about the hour.

Just as Camus reached for his pocket watch, intending to check the time, he noticed Kolobo's absence from the makeshift bed.

A sense of unease washed over him, urging him into action. With silent determination, he rose from his bed under the eerie crimson moonlight, securing his pocket watch and weapon.

Stepping cautiously into the corridor, Camus found it unusually still, cloaked in shadowy silence. Beyond the confines of the police headquarters, eerie cries and distant wails pierced the night, emanating from various corners of Tizamo and its surrounding plantations.

Drawing on his keen awareness honed through experience as a Public Security Officer, Camus sensed a disturbance in his Jurisdiction.

Suddenly, he instinctively dropped to the ground and rolled forward.

A deafening crack echoed through the corridor as a wooden door, which Camus would have passed by, splintered and burst outward.

In the blink of an eye, a broadsword slashed through the air, propelled by a savage force, slicing through the empty corridor.

As Camus swiftly evaded the attack, he turned to face his assailant.

It was Loban, the towering patrol member standing at over 1.9 meters, with short light-gold hair and piercing light-blue eyes.

A cruel smirk adorned the Feysacian's face, his eyes glinting with unmistakable greed.

In the dim moonlight, his features were obscured by shadows, emanating an eerie malevolence.

Upon spotting Loban, Camus's eyes sparked with determination.

Psychic Piercing!

Loban recoiled with a pained cry, instinctively shielding his head with his hands, relinquishing his grip on the broadsword.

Seizing the opportunity, Camus swiftly drew his revolver, taking aim at his teammate.

In a moment of hesitation, Camus faltered, then lowered his weapon.

Bang!

The bullet found its mark, striking Loban's knee with brutal force, tearing through flesh and shattering bone.

A Doctor from the Church of Earth Mother could mend such injuries!

Loban crumpled to the ground, writhing in agony, his attempts to curl up thwarted by the searing pain.

Camus lowered his revolver, rose to his feet, and pressed forward towards the end of the corridor.

As he descended the stairs, Camus passed by a cluttered cubicle, its contents scattered haphazardly, and caught faint murmurs from within.

His heart skipped a beat as he whispered, "Kolobo, is that you?"

A moment of tense silence followed before Kolobo's voice, tinged with panic and fear, replied, "Stay back! Don't come any closer! Spare me!"

Camus frowned, sensing that Kolobo's demeanor was far from his usual composed self.

Though prone to bouts of fear and unease, Kolobo typically pushed through his anxieties to fulfill his duties. This level of hysteria was unprecedented.

What's wrong with Kolobo? Camus wondered.

Choosing to stay put rather than risk exacerbating the situation, Camus observed as Kolobo fell into an uneasy silence, as if attempting to fade into obscurity.

After more than ten seconds, Camus contemplated assessing Kolobo's condition. If it proved dire, he resolved to retreat and seek out Louis Berry.

Suddenly, the sound of two sets of rapid footsteps echoed from below.

Camus swiftly pivoted, training his revolver down the stairs. There, he beheld Louis Berry, sporting a golden straw hat, accompanied by Rhea, armed with a hunting bow and arrow.

Gazing at the barrel aimed in their direction, Louis Berry chuckled lightly, his tone calm.

"Welcome to the Dream Festival."

The Dream Festival? It's the Dream Festival? Realization dawned on Camus. He glanced between the smiling Louis Berry and the serious Rhea, confusion etched on his features.

"Why are we still lucid?"

Observing their composed demeanor, Camus deduced that they hadn't succumbed to the overwhelming emotions and desires that often engulfed dreamers. Yet, he kept his revolver steady, wary of any sudden developments.

"Perhaps our early entry into this peculiar dream, thanks to Twanaku's house, has granted us this lucidity," Lumian proposed, offering his deduction.

Rhea seized the opportunity to suggest that encounters within the dream might hold sway over reality to some extent, sharing the conjecture with Camus.

Initially relieved that he hadn't resorted to lethal force against Loban, Camus's expression turned grave as he addressed his companions.

"The three of us aren't the only Beyonders in Tizamo. If we adhere to the notion that we can't retaliate when attacked, it will severely hamper our ability to defend ourselves."

Lumian smiled. "Who said we can't kill? If someone poses a threat to me, they shall be killed accordingly."

Rhea and Camus fell silent.

After a moment of contemplation, Camus nodded decisively, gesturing towards the sundry compartment nestled in the stairwell.

"Kolobo's extreme reaction stems from fear. He won't pose a threat to us. Let him seek refuge there, undisturbed."

As Rhea concurred, Lumian's expression suddenly shifted.

He asked, "Is Kolobo also in this dream?"

Kolobo, who has been in Tizamo for less than a week like me, has also been forced to participate in the Dream Festival?

"Yes." Camus asked in confusion, "Is there a problem?"

A shadow crossed Lumian's features as he responded gravely.

"This suggests there may be a larger problem at play."

Perhaps one more terrifying than the Dream Festival itself!

Before Camus and Rhea could inquire further, Lumian abruptly interjected.

"Wait here for me."

With that, he vanished from the stairway, utilizing Spirit World Traversal.

Lumian reappeared on the second floor of the Brieu Motel, just outside his suite.

In the next instant, a piercing scream echoed through the air, filled with agony and terror.

It was Lugano.

-x-X-x-

Confirming his fears, Lumian slipped his key into the lock, easing the door to the suite open without a sound.

Now, he knew without a doubt that Ludwig, the terrifying sealed creature, would unleash his hunger and frenzy at the Dream Festival.

Beneath the crimson moonlight streaming through the window, Lugano thrashed wildly, his face twisted in agony.

Lurking at the end of his flailing arm was Ludwig, dressed in a child's nightcap and sky-blue pajamas dotted with yellow stars. The sickening sounds of bones crunching and flesh tearing filled the air.

Amidst the chaos, droplets of blood splattered onto the floor.

Suddenly, Ludwig lunged forward like a frenzied animal, his jaws closing in on Lugano's arm with a sickening crack.

"Ah!"

Lugano's scream pierced the air once more, threatening to blow the roof.

Instinctively, he tried to wrench his arm free from Ludwig's grasp and shove the creature away with his other hand. Pain seared through him, and he felt himself teetering on the edge of unconsciousness.

Observing Ludwig closely, Lumian darted behind him, his nostrils flaring.

Two beams of white light shot forth from his nose, enveloping Ludwig. Ludwig paused, shutting his eyes.

But before Lumian could react, the boy's mouth resumed its relentless assault on Lugano's arm, pulverizing bone and flesh alike.

His eyes snapped open.

The Spell of Harrumph can only daze Ludwig for a moment, and that's only if he's sealed… Lumian reminded himself, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves.

He glanced at Lugano, who had noticed him but was too consumed by agony to speak. Raising a hand, Lumian motioned for Lugano to remain patient.

Though Lugano's mind raced with curses and frustration, he remained unable to voice them.

As thoughts raced through his mind, Lumian gave an imperceptible nod.

Changing his focus, Lumian bypassed Ludwig, who was engrossed in devouring Lugano, and seized Lugano's shoulder.

In an instant, Lumian retrieved a sharp straight sword he had acquired from Port Santa, pulling it from his Traveler's Bag.

What is he trying to do? Amidst the throes of pain, Lugano's thoughts scattered.

With a swift motion, Lumian swung the sword, the blade bursting into white flames.

The fiery sword crashed down upon Lugano's arm, where Ludwig had been feasting, striking at the joint.

With a sharp sound, Lugano's forearm tore away from Ludwig's grasp, leaving behind a gory, truncated limb.

Simultaneously, Lumian's form began to fade, and even Lugano, whom he had grasped, vanished from sight.

Teleport!

But Lumian hadn't gone far. Both he and Lugano reappeared at the suite's doorway.

The agony persisted, but Lugano's momentary relief vanished as Ludwig's figure once again came into view. The sight of the boy, his mouth still bloody with Lugano's remaining forearm, sent a shiver down his spine.

The fear momentarily eclipsed the pain, and Lugano's mind raced with frantic questions.

Why not teleport away from Tizamo?

Why not teleport to Port Pylos?

Why are we still lingering in front of Ludwig?

Meanwhile, Ludwig had turned his attention to the doorway, his blond hair matted with blood, his brown eyes glinting with ravenous hunger.

With the speed of a child his age, he advanced toward Lumian and Lugano,

all the while chewing and swallowing what remained of Lugano's arm.

Unperturbed, Lumian calmly returned the straight sword to his Traveler's Bag.

Under Lugano's horrified gaze, Lumian conjured an entire almond pistachio cream thousand-layer cake and hurled it onto the floor beside Ludwig.

Ludwig's sprint slowed as he seemed to ponder which delicacy to indulge in first.

Ultimately, he turned his attention back to Lugano.

The sight of blood, flesh, and marrow infused with spiritual essence seemed to intoxicate him even further.

Capitalizing on Ludwig's momentary indecision, Lumian delved into his Traveler's Bag once more, extracting a fragment of Hisoka's corpse and tossing it aside.

Ludwig's gaze followed the offering, his lips instinctively moistening, yet he made no move to change course.

It seemed he found the offering beneath his tastes, too dirty to be his top choice.

Lumian systematically tossed out ingredients brimming with spiritual energy, one after the other, creating a barrier of tempting treats around Ludwig. Cream pancakes, fruit tarts, sandwiches oozing with cream, bouchée à la reine, chocolates infused with liquor, cookies, candied plums, éclairs, Charlotte desserts, and a myriad of other delicacies

formed a tempting ring around Ludwig, impeding his advance toward Lugano.

Turning to Lugano with a stern expression, Lumian's voice took on a commanding tone. "What are you waiting for? Stem the bleeding first!"

Startled, Lugano obeyed, his left palm emitting a faint glow as he applied pressure to the stump of his injured arm.

As Ludwig indulged in the feast laid out before him, his urgency waned. Though still concerned for Lugano, he no longer rushed forward.

In the final stages, Lumian threw out boxes of biscuits, sweets, beef jerky, and assorted provisions, encircling Ludwig with a haphazard yet effective "wall" of food.

Nearly all of Lumian's seven days' worth of rations for Ludwig had been deployed from his Traveler's Bag.

"What… what's the meaning of this?" Lugano, having successfully treated his wound and eased his pain, watched Lumian's actions with bewilderment. He couldn't fathom why his employer was so fixated on feeding Ludwig in the midst of their predicament.

"Sealing that fellow," Lumian replied calmly, his hands never ceasing their task.

"Sealing?" Lugano nearly doubted his hearing.

Isn't this too absurd?

Using food to seal a monster?

He couldn't recall ever encountering such a concept, not even in the most far-fetched novels on the market. No author would dream up such a peculiar method!

Wouldn't a conventional seal involve the use of spiritually potent materials to inscribe mystical symbols and patterns, followed by ritualistic magic or the employment of a mystical artifact?

What possible purpose could hurling food at the monster serve?

Lumian smiled and sighed.

"Once he's satiated, he won't have any appetite left for you or anyone else here.

"And there's enough food to keep him occupied until dawn, and possibly even beyond."

Lumian had devised this plan upon realizing that Ludwig's sole desire was to eat. Coupled with his behavior during the Dream Festival, Lumian was confident that Ludwig was now driven purely by his insatiable hunger—a unique trait exclusive to him in Tizamo.

In this scenario, as long as Ludwig's appetite was sated, he could remain confined within the suite, feasting without posing a threat to others.

What was the distinction between this and traditional sealing methods?

Of course, the success of this makeshift seal depended on the Dream Festival concluding before Ludwig depleted the seven days' worth of food.

Otherwise, Lumian's ability to hunt in the forest might not keep pace with Ludwig's voracious appetite.

Lugano's understanding dawned upon hearing Lumian's explanation.

Indeed, this method offered a practical means of temporarily restraining Ludwig.

Who said it couldn't be deemed a seal?

Understanding one's target's preferences and weaknesses allowed for the implementation of a seal without resorting to mysticism!

Observing Ludwig still attempting to approach the door amidst his feast, Lumian realized the creature's reluctance to part with Lugano. With a swift movement, he grasped Lugano's shoulder and teleported them both to a corner of the second-floor stairwell in the police headquarters.

Ludwig briefly glanced at the vacant doorway before refocusing on his culinary conquest within the suite.

…

"Are you certain everything's under control?" Lugano inquired anxiously, the moment he exited the spirit world.

Lumian chuckled in response.

"As long as no Beyonder happens to stroll by the door, he won't abandon his feast."

Relieved, Lugano exhaled deeply, casting a rueful glance at his remaining arm. Thoughts swirled in his mind as he contemplated his future.

At least I'm still alive. As long as I'm alive…

In the future, I'll see if I can save up enough money to afford a mechanical arm from the Church of Steam. That might bolster my combat strength.

The Doctor's expertise could only do so much, as transplanting another's limb was beyond the realm of possibility.

Camus and Rhea, observing Lugano's bloody limb, furrowed their brows, recalling Louis Berry's ominous warning of a greater issue.

"What happened?" Camus inquired.

Lumian smiled.

"It's a complication caused by that big problem, but I've managed to seal it temporarily. Just remember, stay away from the Brieu Motel, especially the door on the second-floor suite."

Relieved to hear that Louis Berry had intervened, Camus assured Lugano,

"Thankfully, it's all just a dream. You'll be fine once you wake up."

"A dream?" Lugano was perplexed.

Lumian offered no further explanation, simply remarking, "Indeed, it's a dream. But remember, if you perish in the dream, you perish in reality too."

Amid Lugano's bafflement, Lumian redirected said to Camus and Rhea, "Let's make our way to Twanaku's house now."

His primary objective in investigating the Dream Festival was to locate Hisoka's gold and the item acquired from the Nois family's Demon. He intended to assess any changes in their respective locations following the festival's commencement.

If nothing surfaced, Lumian planned to seek out Padre Cali at the Saint-Sien Cathedral.

The peculiar condition of "weakness in the depths of the Spirit Body" possessed by Padre Cali in reality set him apart from everyone else in Tizamo. This hinted at something distinctly special about the padre. Additionally, it was Padre Cali who had officially inaugurated the Dream Festival.

Camus hesitated, his silence suggesting he might have pressing matters to attend to.

In that moment, Rhea regarded Lumian with confusion, gesturing towards Lugano.

"Why is he still lucid?"

-x-X-x-

Upon hearing Rhea's question, Lumian snapped to his senses and turned to Lugano.

In his haste to save and "seal" Lugano, he had overlooked Lugano's condition!

Ever since this Doctor had gotten his injuries under control, he had been responding to Lumian's questions. He was lucid and rational, a stark contrast to the other participants in the Dream Festival.

It had to be known that even Ludwig, the monster himself, couldn't effectively control his appetite and had resorted to devouring humans!

Moreover, Lugano had never slept in Hisoka's house, nor had he entered this peculiar dream realm before!

Seeing Rhea, Camus, and his employer staring at him intently, Lugano, still grappling with the lingering pain, was utterly perplexed.

"Why wouldn't I be lucid?

"Aren't you all still in your right minds?"

Everyone seems to be in the same state. Why should I be the only one with an issue?

Lumian carefully observed Lugano's emotions and asked in a calm tone, "Have you ventured outside the motel recently?"

"I did. I assisted Ludwig in purchasing roasted meat and pastries made from palm tree cores," Lugano recalled.

Lumian smiled.

"Did you sleep anywhere other than the motel?"

"No, I wouldn't dare to engage with the women here." Lugano shook his head without hesitation.

He was evidently a little regretful about this, as there were numerous mixed-blood girls in Tizamo who possessed a different allure compared to those in the Northern Continent.

As the two men conversed, Camus and Rhea meticulously searched for any abnormalities in Lugano's body. However, apart from being sufficiently lucid and lacking excessive emotions and desires, Lugano appeared to be unaffected by the strange phenomenon.

Lumian looked at Lugano with a thoughtful smile and said, "We're being forced to participate in an event called the Dream Festival. Simply put, we're dreaming. We can do anything in this dream, but if we die here, we'll die in reality too.

"Aside from us, everyone in Tizamo is under the influence of intense emotions and desires, just like Ludwig.

"They're conscious—strictly speaking—but they've chosen to show their malice and express their long-suppressed desires. If we can subdue them, we might be able to communicate, but they'll instinctively try to deceive us."

Remembering how the café owner, Bunia, had immediately changed his attitude after being targeted by her arrow and begged for mercy, Rhea agreed with Louis Berry's judgment.

The Dream Festival participants weren't stupid or crazy. Their excessive desires and emotions were the main cause of their uncontrollable evil!

"I see…" Lugano finally understood.

Realizing what Rhea's question meant, he blurted out, "Why are we lucid and rational?"

After a pause, Lugano's voice lowered as he added, "W-why can I stay lucid and rational?"

Lumian smiled.

"We can stay lucid and rational because we entered this special dream before. We left marks and auras in certain places.

"As for you, I'm not sure why."

As he spoke, he watched Lugano's face closely, observing the change in his servant's expression.

Lugano said in a daze, his voice tinged with fear, "I don't know why this is happening either…"

Noticing that Lugano remained calm even after his issue was brought to light, Lumian seized the chance to glimpse into his servant's luck.

Currently amidst a bloody calamity, Lugano might fall victim to an ailment in the coming days… The first part makes sense, considering Ludwig has just eaten half his arm. But what does the second half imply? Could the Dream Festival span several days? Impossible. If it truly lasted that long, Tizamo's predicament would have been discovered much earlier… Does this suggest that Lugano would succumb to an illness during the Dream Festival itself? An illness similar to death in the waking world, one that wouldn't be instantly cured even if he awakens and receives the Mass's blessing? Lumian quietly pondered the meaning behind Lugano's revealed fate.

Shifting his gaze to Camus and Rhea, he realized that they, too, would soon face a grim and bloody ordeal. If they failed to navigate it properly, they risked slipping further into peril.

As these thoughts swirled in Lumian's mind, he turned to Camus and Rhea and declared, "I'm taking my servant with us."

It wasn't an act of kindness or generosity. Rather, Lumian feared that leaving Lugano to his own devices, given his inexplicable lucidity and rationality, might trigger the abnormality within him and alter the course of the Dream Festival in unpredictable ways.

Better to keep him close at hand, where he could be monitored and any potential accidents prevented. If Lugano truly unleashed a dire problem, Lumian could always end his life first, eliminating any future complications.

Camus and Rhea exchanged disgruntled glances before conceding, "It's your call to make."

"We must hurry to Twanaku's house," Lumian reiterated his earlier proposal.

Camus's gaze drifted toward the cubicle where Kolobo lay hidden, a hint of hesitation in his voice as he asked, "Any idea where Captain Reaza and the others might be?"

"They were supposed to appear beside me when the Dream Festival began, but they were nowhere to be seen," Lumian admitted, recounting the situation honestly.

Perhaps the dream's correspondence to reality was imperfect. The location where each person entered this peculiar dreamscape might be influenced by factors like their understanding, the dream's state, where they had slept, and myriad other variables.

Lumian mused that if he hadn't maintained his lucidity and rationality, he might have awoken in the master bedroom of the Brieu Motel's suite.

"Should we try to locate them first?" Camus proposed, a note of uncertainty in his tone.

Lumian let out a wry chuckle.

"Why? To engage them in combat?"

Neither Reaza nor Maslow had ever slept in Hisoka's house before. The likelihood of them lacking self-control and succumbing to malice and base desires was high.

When the time came, Lumian might not possess the strength to control the pace and intensity of the battle against such formidable Beyonders as he did with ordinary folk, not without the risk of causing deaths.

Camus and Rhea lapsed into a simultaneous silence, neither keen on the prospect of a life-and-death struggle with their own teammates.

Just as Lumian was about to signal the two patrol team members to approach, Camus gritted his teeth as he declared, "There's somewhere I need to go before I head to Twanaku's house."

"And where might that be?" Lumian inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Camus replied in a deep voice, "Palm Manor."

Lumian chuckled.

"You wish to rescue Miss Amandina?"

Camus nodded firmly, a hint of embarrassment tinging his features.

"Yes, that's right."

"You needn't worry. This is merely a dream. If one is violated within the dream, they'll only experience a touch of hysteria upon waking. No substantial harm will befall them," Lumian stated matter-of-factly, his intention not to provoke Camus.

Camus's expression remained unwavering.

"I'm aware. But I fear she may not be able to cope with it in her dream state and might resort to drastic measures. It could lead to her demise."

Without waiting for Lumian's response, Camus spoke gravely, "You can proceed to Twanaku's house first. I'll make my way to Palm Manor and rendezvous with you later."

"By the time you're done, we might not be at Twanaku's house anymore," Rhea cautioned him.

Camus nodded gently.

"I've made this decision of my own accord. I'm prepared to bear any consequences that may follow."

Lumian locked eyes with Camus, remaining silent for a stretch.

Camus felt an indescribable pressure weighing upon him, his mind conjuring the tragic outcomes he might face, but he pursed his lips and refused to retract his suggestion.

After more than ten seconds of silence, his expression unchanged, Lumian finally spoke.

"Let us head to Palm Manor now."

Huh? Before Camus could react, Lumian's hand firmly grasped his shoulder.

Simultaneously, Lumian's other hand darted out, reaching for Rhea's arm.

Rhea's instinctive reaction was to dodge, but the memory of how Lugano had been transported flashed through her mind.

Her tense shoulders relaxed a fraction.

With Camus and Rhea securely in his grasp, Lumian shot Lugano a meaningful look.

Lugano, displaying a practiced ease, approached and latched onto a corner of Lumian's vest.

In the next second, Lumian's figure blurred, the haziness rapidly spreading to engulf Camus, Rhea, and Lugano.

As Rhea and Camus found themselves surrounded by layers of indescribable colors and formless objects, intense emotions surged within their hearts.

Could this be the spirit world?

Is this what teleportation feels like?

Was this how the great adventurer, Gehrman Sparrow, managed to appear before any pirate at a moment's notice?

Having witnessed Louis Berry's abrupt disappearance and subsequent return with his servant in tow, Camus and Rhea had speculated that this might be the famed teleportation ability that had become the stuff of legend across the Five Seas, thanks to Gehrman Sparrow's extraordinary exploits.

It seemed their suspicions had been right on the mark!

Matani's patrol team boasted numerous adventurers among its ranks, and Camus and Rhea were well-versed in the myriad rumors that circulated the Five Seas.

The instant they experienced teleportation firsthand, their bodies departed the dream's spirit world, rematerializing before a four-story beige edifice.

This was none other than the main building of Palm Manor.

In the blink of an eye, Lumian, Camus, Rhea, and Lugano had reached their destination.

The manor was awash with cries, screams, sinister laughter, and high-pitched singing.

Just over ten meters from the main building, near a garden shrubbery, a mixed-blood lady's maid lay pinned to the ground by a group of slaves, her clothes half-stripped as she cried out in desperation.

She struggled with all her might, but how could she hope to resist the adult men? She was utterly helpless, pinned down and at their mercy.

Witnessing this scene, the former Public Security Officer, Camus, instinctively yearned to intervene, but he quickly reminded himself that this was a dream. Such events wouldn't truly impact reality. At most, they would result in a certain degree of curable hysteria.

It would be a waste of time to stop it, and it would only serve to delay my search for Amandina. Moreover, it would be pointless… Camus warned himself, forcibly averting his gaze as he ascended the steps into the main building.

At that moment, Rhea, who had been silent for a couple of seconds, turned from facing the manor's main building.

"You guys head in first."

With her back to Lumian, Camus, and Lugano, she spoke in a nonchalant tone. Leaning forward slightly, she strode purposefully towards the bushes at the garden's edge, making her way to the mixed-blood lady's maid who was being violated by the slaves.

-x-X-x-

In a few swift strides, Rhea positioned herself behind the slaves, raised her right foot, and delivered a powerful kick.

With a resounding bang, the slave pressing down on the mixed-blood lady's maid was sent flying, landing unceremoniously in the bushes at the garden's edge.

The other three abruptly turned to face Rhea.

Before they could get a clear look at their assailant, Rhea followed up with a fluid roundhouse kick, knocking another one to the ground.

The remaining two, torn between greed, desire, and fear, took one look at Rhea and turned tail, fleeing to another part of the manor.

Rhea retracted her left foot and fixed a cold stare upon the two servants struggling to their feet. She raised her hunting bow, nocking an arrow with a smooth, practiced motion.

The two servants licked their lips in unison. Unwilling but fearful, they swiftly clambered over the bushes and vanished into the garden.

Only then did Rhea lower her gaze to the mixed-blood lady's maid, whose face was still streaked with tears and confusion.

"Are you all right?"

The mixed-blood lady's maid shook her head repeatedly. With trembling hands, she hastily tidied her half-torn dress and retrieved a dagger that had fallen beside her.

Seeing this, Rhea wasted no time.

"Find a secluded corner and hide until dawn."

With that, Rhea pivoted on her heel and prepared to dash back to where Louis Berry, Camus, and the others stood waiting at the door of the manor's main building.

As the mixed-blood lady's maid stood up, her expression darkened, and she raised the dagger clutched in her hand, plunging it towards Rhea's back.

Catching sight of the impending danger, Camus shouted, "Watch out!"

Though Rhea hadn't sensed the approaching threat, she instinctively heeded Camus's warning and reacted.

Surrendering to inertia, she fell forward and rolled to the side, narrowly evading the dagger's deadly path.

As she rolled, Rhea pivoted to face her attacker, eyes narrowing as she instinctively raised her bow, aiming at the mixed-blood lady's maid.

The mixed-blood lady's maid brandished her dagger, shouting in Intisian, her words laced with hatred, "Why can you join the patrol team, while I'm stuck as a mere lady's maid? Don't we both hail from the Southern Continent?

"Why? I even have Intisian blood coursing through my veins!"

Before she could complete her tirade, a crimson Fire Raven, its hue bordering on white, swooped in from nowhere, colliding with the steel dagger.

With a resounding clang, the dagger heated up, an explosive force wrenching it from the mixed-blood lady's maid's grasp, sending it flying several meters before clattering to the ground.

The mixed-blood lady's maid faltered, fear supplanting the hatred in her eyes.

Lumian, his black hair and green eyes striking, stood on the steps of the manor's main house, one hand casually tucked in his pocket. He called out, his voice carrying, "Where is Miss Amandina?"

Uh… A pang of embarrassment struck Camus.

In his haste to rescue Miss Amandina, he had acted with a distinct lack of professionalism!

He had been a guest at Palm Manor, but he had never been invited to visit Amandina's room upstairs. Consequently, he found himself unsure of which floor and room to search for her later.

If he were to search floor by floor, he would undoubtedly encounter countless obstacles amidst the current chaos.

The mixed-blood lady's maid's expression shifted, revealing a blatant desire and anticipation.

"She's sleeping in her room. Third floor, second room facing the rubber forest.

"Make haste. She's a vision of beauty, fragrant and pristine. Her figure is exquisite, her skin smooth as silk. She's a cut above the rest of us. Many a gentleman considers her their dream lover. Go, quickly!"

As she neared the end of her speech, the mixed-blood lady's maid gritted her teeth, her eyes alight with an illusory desire to witness something transpire.

Lugano's hair stood on end, a chill running down his spine as he confronted the stark malevolence of human nature.

Clap! Clap! Clap! Lumian shook his head, a smile playing on his lips as he applauded.

Rhea fell silent for a couple of seconds before rising to her feet and departing the area.

After a few steps, she paused, turning to regard the mixed-blood lady's maid. In a deep, solemn voice, she reiterated, "Find a secluded spot and hide until dawn."

With those parting words, Rhea turned away from the mixed-blood lady's maid and sprinted back to the steps at the main house's entrance.

Lumian averted his gaze and led the way through the open brown door.

As he, Camus, and the others entered, they were greeted by a startling sight in the living room. A middle-aged woman in a disheveled nightgown, her half-exposed body glistening with sweat and her black hair in disarray, sat astride a sturdy native slave. Her movements were intense, and she appeared utterly immersed, alternating between shouting and cursing. The native slave, clearly enjoying the experience, eagerly cooperated.

Near the staircase, a group of five or six servants and slaves, armed with an assortment of shotguns, rifles, and other weapons, intermittently fired bullets up the stairs. Occasional counterattacks emanated from the area leading to the second floor.

Camus stood frozen, his gaze fixed on the middle-aged woman's flushed face.

"You know her?" Lumian asked, a smile playing on his lips.

It was Rhea who replied, "She's Sir Petit's wife, Miss Amandina's mother, Madam Simona."

"I never imagined she would be like this…" Camus said, his voice low and somber.

Lumian smiled and applauded once more.

"Can't she indulge in her dreams?

"For the Dream Festival, this is something we should encourage. No one is being forced. How delightfully harmless."

Camus found himself momentarily at a loss for words.

Lumian then said to Rhea, "During the Dream Festival, there's a high likelihood that the person you save will also be a bad person and may even attack you."

Rhea fell silent for a few seconds before responding in a low voice, "Even if something like that happens again, I'll still save her."

Lumian dropped the subject and shifted his attention to Camus.

"Are you prepared to see the other side of Miss Amandina? Perhaps she will…"

Lumian left the sentence unfinished, instead casting a meaningful glance at Madam Simona, who was in the throes of fierce, foul-mouthed ecstasy.

Camus exhaled slowly, his voice resolute.

"I'm here to save her. It doesn't matter if she's good or bad, kind, malicious, chaste, or indulgent.

"After helping her find a safe hiding place and making sure she waits until dawn, we'll head to Twanaku's house."

I'm here to save her. It doesn't matter if she's good or bad, kind, malicious… Lumian quietly repeated the first half of the sentence, a smile playing on his lips as he regarded the servants and slaves attempting to occupy the staircase. He raised his voice, asking, "Has anyone seen Miss Amandina? Has she come downstairs?"

The servants and slaves turned their attention to Lumian and his companions, swiftly redirecting their firearms.

Lumian calmly extended his right hand, making a grabbing motion.

With this gesture, crimson flames, their hue bordering on white, ignited in the air, forming a curtain that Lumian seemed to snatch from the void.

With a deft grab and push, the fiery curtain abruptly split, transforming into Fire Birds that hurtled towards the shotguns, rifles, and revolvers before they could be properly aimed.

Amidst a series of muffled explosions, the guns dropped from the servants' and slaves' hands, clattering to the ground, damaged beyond use.

The servants and slaves themselves suffered only minor burns, their grip on their weapons faltering.

Since advancing to Reaper, Lumian's mastery over flames had grown. Even without the Lie earring, he could achieve this level of control.

Moreover, he hadn't unleashed his full power. He hadn't even summoned the blazing white flames in order to minimize the damage.

"Now, can we have a civilized conversation?" Lumian smiled at the servants and slaves.

Behind him, crimson Fire Ravens, their color nearly white, materialized, poised to strike at a moment's notice.

An Intisian valet, who seemed to hold some influence among the group, couldn't conceal his fear as he replied, "Amandina hasn't come down. Otherwise…"

He couldn't help but lick his lips.

"And who were you shooting at?" Lumian inquired.

"It's Petit, that bastard who deserves to rot in hell, and his butler, the one who's always wielding that damn whip!" A dark-skinned slave picked up the fallen firearm, only to discover that it was broken, just like everyone else's.

They had planned to retrieve more guns from another room on the first floor, but for now, they didn't dare make a move.

"Is that so?" Lumian nodded, a look of enlightenment crossing his features. "Carry on, then."

He turned around, leading the ten to twenty Fire Ravens that had gradually dispersed, and said to Camus and the others,

"Let's scale the side of the building to reach the third floor."

Teleportation wasn't an optimal option at this distance, not after having used it four times already.

Of course, since advancing to Reaper, Lumian could now perform 11 to 12 Spirit World Traversals without relying on the spirituality accumulated through his Ascetic abilities. It was a marked improvement from his previous limitations.

Camus and the others raised no objections. Lugano, however, trembled as he asked, "H-how am I supposed to climb?"

He swung the stump that was all that remained of his right arm.

Lumian glanced at him and said matter-of-factly, "Camus will assist you."

Me? Camus was momentarily taken aback before assessing his own skills and concluding that it was indeed feasible.

Before long, the four of them had ascended to the third floor, making use of the statues, decorations, metal pipes, and side balcony adorning the outer wall.

As soon as Camus pushed open the door leading to the corridor, he caught sight of a figure.

It was Amandina's personal maid, an Intisian lady's maid clad in a white cloth nightgown.

At that moment, the young lady's maid stood bathed in the dim moonlight, a bloody dagger clutched in her hand, her expression inscrutable.

Drip. Drip. The bright red blood from the dagger fell onto the corridor carpet, each drop a vivid splash of color.

Camus's heart clenched.

"What have you done?"

The lady's maid's face broke into a satisfied, carefree smile.

"I killed it. I've been annoyed by it for far too long!"

It? In Intisian, "she" and "it" were two entirely different words. Amidst his surprise, Camus followed the trail of dripping blood, his gaze falling upon Amandina's beloved pet dog, lying motionless at the door of the adjacent room.

Phew… Camus breathed a sigh of relief before asking in a deep, serious voice, "Where's Miss Amandina?"

The lady's maid's expression turned resentful.

"I'm looking for her too! She left an hour ago!"

An hour ago… Before the Dream Festival began? Camus pressed further, "Where did she go?"

The lady's maid, still holding the blood-stained dagger, replied with a contorted expression, "She went on a date with my Robert!"

Camus fell silent.

Lumian shook his head. Under the watchful eyes of the lady's maid, who yearned to kill but felt outnumbered, he swiftly searched the entire third floor with Rhea and the others, but found no trace of Amandina.

"Let's go." Lumian turned to Camus, his voice firm.

Camus had no choice but to concede defeat.

The four of them immediately teleported outside Hisoka's house.

Just as Lumian was about to proceed, he sensed something and looked up at the third floor.

A face appeared through the glass window of a room on the third floor.

The face was graced with a high nose bridge, piercing blue eyes, and thick black hair tied into a simple knot atop her head. Her brows exuded a youthful, vibrant aura.

Amandina!

It was said that Amandina had gone on a date with her fiancé, Robert!

-x-X-x-

Camus was stunned to find Amandina here. His astonishment far outweighed any joy he might have felt.

From the window above, Amandina noticed the four figures below. Her face twisted in alarm, and she disappeared into the house's shadowy interior.

Taken aback, Camus called out, "Don't be scared! We're here to keep you safe!"

While shouting, he raced up the stairs to the second floor of Twanaku's residence.

His visit to Palm Manor had confirmed Louis Berry's theory. The Dream Festival participants had lost control of their actions, driven by hidden malevolence and desires. Yet, their minds remained lucid, allowing for communication.

Camus couldn't be sure if the possessed individuals would misinterpret others' words. Furthermore, this wasn't true clarity of thought. They wouldn't realize they were dreaming, and the experience would fade upon waking.

Thump! Thump! Thump! Camus and Rhea charged into the building, taking the steps two at a time.

Behind the house, out of sight, a glass window set in wooden planks swung open. Amandina, clad in black hunting gear, nimbly climbed out. She used the wall's protrusions and crevices to swiftly descend to the ground.

As her feet touched the earth, she noticed a figure watching her from the side.

It was Lugano, his right arm ending in a bloody stump, his face marred with crimson stains. He looked a frightful mess.

Amandina's heart clenched. She pressed her back against a pillar supporting Twanaku's house, fists tightening as she shut her eyes.

In the same instant, Lugano's eyelids drooped, his mind growing hazy.

He collapsed to the ground, falling into a deep sleep where he lay.

Amandina's eyes snapped open, no longer using her power to force the battle-worn man into slumber.

Doing so would trap her in a profound sleep, able to act only in her Nightmare form, her body immobile. And the man wasn't alone!

Before Lugano could wake naturally, Amandina turned to flee, seeking a safe haven to conceal herself.

At that moment, she heard a smirking voice.

"So you're a Beyonder too."

Amandina instinctively glanced over and saw the adventurer, Louis Berry, standing before another wooden pillar supporting Twanaku's house, not far from her.

The handsome Louis Berry, with his dark hair and emerald eyes, had one hand in his pocket as he leaned against the pillar. His feet were crossed behind him, and his lips curled into a playful smile as he looked her way.

The dim crimson moonlight of the night lent him an air of enigmatic and sinister allure.

Amandina tightened her fists once more and closed her eyes.

However, her spiritual senses told her that Louis Berry had vanished in an instant.

She couldn't find the target and couldn't use her corresponding abilities.

Moments later, Amandina, with her heightened spiritual perception, cast her gaze towards the shadows on the ground floor of the house.

She sensed something stirring there.

At the same time, Amandina heard an illusory and ethereal voice.

"We mean you no harm.

"We're not affected by the Dream Festival."

Amandina, who was about to use her spiritual perception to lock onto the formless presence in the shadow, was taken aback.

Just then, Camus and Rhea ran to the corresponding window and called out to Amandina,

"We're here to protect you!"

"We have enough self-control."

After assessing the number and strength of the two sides, Amandina asked skeptically, "Why aren't you affected?"

As she spoke, she locked onto the formless entity in the shadow, believing it to be the strongest among the opposing group—the adventurer, Louis Berry. If she discovered anything amiss and something went awry, controlling Louis Berry first would effectively increase her chances of escape.

Lumian's body emerged from the shadows.

He glanced at Lugano, who had regained consciousness and stood up, and inwardly praised Amandina's keen spiritual perception. Then, he smiled at Amandina and said, "Surely you've noticed that we've been entering and exiting this house frequently over the past few days?

"What about you? How are you able to maintain your normal self-control?"

Amandina glanced at the house beside her, no longer puzzled by Lumian and the others' ability to remain lucid and rational.

She pursed her lips and said, "Robert took me on a date to Twanaku's place. I spent half the night here."

Camus's heart ached as he blurted out, "Robert knows what's special about this place?"

Amandina nodded nimbly.

"He knows the Dream Festival very well."

"What's his relationship with Twanaku?" Lumian asked thoughtfully.

Amandina pondered for a moment.

"I don't know. At the very least, I haven't noticed any romantic tension between them or any interactions."

What do you mean by romantic tension? Lumian didn't directly inquire about Mr. Robert's knowledge of the Dream Festival. Instead, he asked something else.

"Are you a Beyonder of the Evernight pathway?"

Amandina blinked and hesitantly said, "In a way…"

Upstairs, Camus inquired with concern, "Where did you obtain the potion formula and the corresponding ingredients?"

As they conversed, various movements and shouts echoed from the plantations outside the town and throughout the town.

Amandina's eyes darted around as she grinned and said, "Can I choose not to answer?""What do you think?" Lumian smiled at her.

Amandina didn't back down. She raised her head slightly and stared into Lumian's eyes without flinching.

She noticed that his smile remained unchanged, and his emerald-green yet deep eyes remained emotionless.

After more than ten seconds, Amandina averted her gaze and tilted her head slightly.

"I obtained it in this dream."

Camus, who was on the third floor, was taken aback. "You obtained it during the Dream Festival?"

He could understand obtaining a potion formula during the Dream Festival. While knowledge gains could be replicated in reality, could Beyonder ingredients used to concoct potions be brought from the dream to reality?

Could it be that after consuming a potion during the Dream Festival, one could also remain a Beyonder upon waking?

This subverted much of mysticism's common sense!

Without waiting for Amandina's confirmation, Camus thought of a possibility.

He immediately asked Amandina, "Are you a Beyonder only in this dream?"

Amandina wanted to play dumb, but after glancing at Louis Berry, who was looking at her with a faint smile, she said gloomily, "It's the same in reality, but I don't have many chances to showcase it."

How is this possible? Camus gazed down at Amandina, suspecting that the mystical knowledge he had encountered since childhood was inaccurate.

He had considered the possibility that Amandina was lying, but he wasn't willing to doubt this girl who held a special place in his heart.

At that moment, Lumian spoke calmly to Amandina, his expression unperturbed, "You haven't consumed a potion, have you?"

Amandina's expression shifted slightly. She puffed up her cheeks and muttered, "Why are you still asking me if you already know…"

Haven't consumed a potion? Camus, Rhea, and Lugano were taken aback, but as they recalled their encounters, they gained a better understanding of Amandina's situation.

It's indeed a boon, but I'm not sure how it was accomplished… Lumian silently smiled as Camus nervously asked Amandina, "Which evil god deceived you?"

Amandina was bewildered. "Evil god? What evil god?"

Before Camus could explain, Lumian asked thoughtfully,

"How did you obtain these supernatural abilities?"

Amandina scoffed.

"Why should I tell you?"

In the next moment, she saw Louis Berry reveal a smile that inexplicably terrified her.

"It's—it's Robert," Amandina said with a shiver. "He took me into the forest outside and led me to a huge black stone. He asked me to place my hand on it."

"And then you became a Beyonder?" Lugano interrupted Amandina with surprise and curiosity, failing to abide by his duty as a servant.

Amandina shook her head.

"Then I fell asleep—in the dream. When I woke up, I had superpowers."

"Is Robert also a Beyonder? Did he obtain his powers through the same method?" Camus pressed.

Amandina let out a soft sigh and said, "He's a Beyonder, but I don't know if he obtained his abilities the same way. He brought me on a date here. Before entering this dream, he was already a Beyonder."

Black boulder… Lumian emerged from the ground floor of Hisoka's house and asked Amandina with a smile, "Where's Robert? He's not having a date with you here?"

Amandina's expression shifted between anger and amusement as she replied, "He wanted to visit his other lover before coming to me."

"He has another lover? Who?" Camus asked, suddenly angry.

Amandina's eyes darted around, and she hesitated for a moment with a strange expression.

"Padre Cali."

"Uh…" "Huh?" Camus, Rhea, and Lugano couldn't help but exclaim in shock and confusion.

Even someone as well-read as Lumian couldn't help but raise his eyebrows.

Amandina spread her hands and said, "He does like women, but he prefers men.

"He said he brought me into the dream to obtain superpowers because he felt guilty towards me. He was also grateful that I was willing to help him keep it a secret and not break off the engagement, continuing to go out with him, make out with him, protecting his image even after knowing his other side."

At that moment, Camus and Rhea remained silent, but Lumian sensed the same meaning in their eyes.

You Intisians…

Amused, Lumian asked Amandina, "And you can accept that?"

Amandina pondered seriously. "Why not? As a marriage partner, Robert excels in status, wealth, strength, looks, and skills. In the Southern Continent, there aren't many better choices. Besides, we did have a beautiful relationship. He does love me, but he also loves Padre Cali."

Amandina smiled at Lumian and said, "He also promised me more freedom."

Upon hearing Amandina's response and looking at the youthful and beautiful girl, Camus, who was on the third floor, suddenly felt a pang of sorrow.

A certain beauty in his heart shattered.

Lumian glanced up at him and scoffed inwardly.

Hadn't he been mentally prepared to see the other side of Amandina? Amandina managed to express herself succinctly in a very self-controlled manner without demonstrating it.

Perhaps Amandina had deliberately said so much in front of Camus to prevent him from loving her out of pity.

Lumian turned to Amandina.

"In other words, Robert is currently in Saint-Sien Cathedral?"

"Yes." Amandina nodded.

Lumian tersely acknowledged her words and spoke in a commanding tone, "Then let's pay him and Padre Cali a 'visit.'"