入室强性暴

How could I forget? I mustn’t gaze upon what I ought not to!

The same applied to observing luck!

Previously, he believed that scrutinizing one’s luck was a subtle affair, unlikely to be detected. Neither Sequence 7 Franca nor the equivalent of a Sequence 7, “Black Scorpion” Roger, had noticed anything awry. However, the previous official Beyonder had displayed an unmistakable reaction.

Does his Sequence far exceed mine, or does he possess special abilities, or perhaps he wields a corresponding mystical item? Lumian struggled to determine.

He had never observed Beyonders beyond Sequence 7, lacking a point of comparison. Whether it was Gardner Martin or Mr. K, he exercised caution and refrained from examining their luck in their presence.

Having taken note of the lesson, Lumian, who didn’t require sleep, perused the copied grimoire of Aurore.

The sunlight grew more intense, transforming the window into a radiant source. Even the bustling Rue Anarchie appeared like a golden oil painting.

In comparison to Backlund, the capital of the Loen Kingdom, Trier remained bathed in sunlight. Despite its pollution, the city’s industrial layout was relatively sensible, confining the impact to specific areas. Most of it lay to the south, where factories were abundant.

Knock, knock, knock!

Someone rapped on Room 207 once again, yet this time, Lumian failed to discern any footsteps.

Arching his right eyebrow, he stowed away the papers on the table and turned toward the door.

“Come in. It’s unlocked, Madame Red Boots.”

With a creak, the door swung open, and Franca stepped inside, donning a blouse, beige trousers, and red boots.

In surprise, she inquired, “How did you know it was me?”

Why ask the same question as Jenna? Should I praise her for being a worthy student of an Assassin like you? Lumian replied, amused, “Because I possess a brain.”

“Don’t make it sound like I lack one,” Franca responded calmly, settling herself on Lumian’s bed.

Lumian chortled.

“I can’t think of anyone else capable of approaching my room without my notice and knocking on the door politely.”

Naturally, he had to exclude Madam Magician first. She lacked such diligence. It was impressive enough that she managed to reply in time!

After a brief moment of contemplation, Lumian inquired, “Has Jenna’s predicament been resolved?”

Franca clicked her tongue. “You have an uncanny foresight, brat.”

She assumed the role of an elder sister.

If Jenna is still in danger, how could you, Hidden Blade, find the composure to seek me out?

Franca laughed dryly.

“I was referring to your astute guess that the authorized Beyonders would primarily investigate whether Jenna and the others are followers of evil gods.”

After all, I’m closer to an evil god than any evil god believer here… Lumian raised his right hand and gently patted his left chest.

With a smile, he responded, “Such insights stem from the ample experiences of a wanted criminal.”

“You seem quite proud,” Franca teased.

Curious, Lumian inquired, “How did the authorized Beyonders conduct their investigations?”

The more he learned, the more confident he would become in evading similar inquiries in the future.

Franca responded with an air of indifference, “Based on Jenna’s account, I reckon they utilized the powers of a Notary.”

“Each person had to sign a pledge of their faith, a pledge witnessed by a Notary. Heh heh, those who lied were engulfed in burning golden flames. They bled profusely and were dragged away.”

Aware that Lumian was still delving into the realm of mysticism, Franca proceeded to provide a detailed explanation,

“Notary-related abilities are quite common in Trier. They can be found in various places, disguised under different guises.

“Notaries have the ability to create contracts with mystical effects. Once the parties affix their signatures to a similar contract in the presence of a Notary, they are bound by it unless they are demigods. Even at the demigod level, breaking the contract requires a substantial price. For transactions involving millions, or even tens of millions, of verl d’or, both parties are willing to pay a hefty sum and receive notarization in front of the God of Deeds’ Sacred Emblem at a cathedral.

“The pledge is a special contract.”

“The Eternal Blazing Sun is also known as the God of Deeds and the Guardian of Businesses.”

It aligns with Aurore’s grimoires… Lumian inquired, “Has Jenna returned home?”

Franca nodded subtly. “She needed to catch up on sleep.”

Franca scrutinized Lumian. “You seem lively. I can’t tell that you haven’t slept all night.”

“I’m accustomed to it.” Lumian couldn’t reveal that his condition would automatically restore itself at six in the morning. “You also appear quite energetic.”

Franca smirked and replied, “I’m accustomed to it as well. For people like us, the night is the beginning of revelry.”

If Aurore had made that statement, words like “inspiration,” “drafts,” and “tranquility of the night” would have crossed Lumian’s mind. However, when Franca said it, he could only associate it with “orgies,” “large beds,” and “romping.”

Unaware of his critical thoughts, Franca continued, “Apprentice training at Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons will be suspended for three days. The theater will be temporarily occupied by the police headquarters. The daily performances will carry on as usual to avoid impacting the National Convention elections. However, the repertoire will be adjusted. Some plays have lost their female leads.”

“Charlotte and Maipú Meyer are gone?” Lumian asked.

Though he had suspected that Susanna Mattise hadn’t been completely purified when Charlie left with the official Beyonders, he still felt a tinge of disappointment upon hearing Franca’s account.

Franca nodded.

“Apart from them, two others are missing: the real Ive and Lolth.”

“Among the remaining actors and apprentices, a total of seven have converted to the Mother Tree of Desire. They were exposed, but it seems none of them received any boons.”

So, those who received boons have fled, while the mere believers have been abandoned? Lumian scoffed inwardly as he relayed Charlie’s departure with the suspected official Beyonders to Franca.

Franca let out a soft sigh.

“This is the best outcome for him. We can’t protect him every single day.

“Though the official Beyonders can’t either, they can arrange for Charlie to stay in a relatively safe place until Susanna Mattise’s matter is truly resolved.

“In comparison, you’re in more danger. Didn’t you mention that Susanna Mattise holds a grudge against you? Evil spirits can be quite fixated.”

That will give me a good chance to test Mr. K’s finger… Lumian silently muttered, indicating that he would be cautious.

Something crossed his mind, and he inquired, “Do you know why our Savoie Mob supports Hugues Artois?”

Franca smiled. “If I had that figured out, I wouldn’t be part of the Savoie Mob anymore.”

Hmm… Is that her primary reason for joining the Savoie Mob? Lumian pondered.

Franca stretched, stood up, and addressed him, “We truly have a chance to acquire Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons at a low price, but we might have to face the enmity of those Scrooges. However, you have nothing to fear. Yes, I’ll go to Rue des Fontaines to discuss with Gardner and resolve my problem while there.”

“What problem?” Lumian was puzzled.

Franca responded with a smile, “Even though the desires Rentas evoked were suppressed by the mysticism smelling salts, my body still feels a bit restless. When I recall that sensation, I feel somewhat empty, longing for fulfillment and release. Since you can’t help me, I have no choice but to find my true lover. Why aren’t you affected at all?”

There were indeed residual effects, but I was fine after six in the morning… Lumian pursed his lips and replied, “My willpower is stronger than yours.”

Franca sneered, walked towards the door, and exited Room 207.

Lumian watched her leave, deep in thought.

Has Franca become the Boss’s mistress, or has the Boss become Franca’s lover?

Is Franca responsible for satisfying the Boss, or is the Boss responsible for satisfying Franca?

Just before noon, Charlie returned to Auberge du Coq Doré. He packed his meager belongings into his suitcase and descended the stairs with it.

Spotting Lumian on the second floor, he glanced around and lowered his voice.

“I have a new job and need to move elsewhere. After some time, I should be able to return to the basement bar for a drink.”

Lumian smirked once again. “Sounds good.”

If Susanna Mattise’s issue could truly be resolved, Charlie’s fate would change.

Charlie also seemed pleased. He pondered for a moment and stated, “There are many things I can’t tell you, but when the time comes, I’ll try to drop hints for you.”

In the Inquisition beneath église Saint-Robert, he had come across Ciel’s wanted poster and recognized his friend, yet he didn’t inform Deacon Fran?ois.

What does that mean? Why does Charlie suddenly feel he can be useful? Does his new job have a close connection to the official Beyonders, allowing him to gather valuable information? Lumian swiftly formed a hypothesis.

With a mischievous grin, he remarked, “First, focus on staying alive before contemplating anything else! I might leave the market district in a few weeks.”

The implication of his words was, “Do your job well and don’t even think about leaking information. Don’t attempt it unless your life is truly at stake.”

Whether Charlie understood or not, Lumian wasn’t entirely certain. After all, this guy wasn’t very smart.

…

After spending the afternoon at Salle de Bal Brise, Lumian changed into a grayish-blue worker’s uniform and donned a dark-blue cap. He hailed a public carriage to take him to Rue des Pavés in Quartier du Jardin Botanique.

As per his arrangement with Louis Lund, Lumian anticipated a response from Madame Pualis regarding their meeting before the night fell.

Upon reaching the lobby of Apartment 9, Lumian opened the letterbox in Room 302, only to find a collection of fliers inside.

The letter hasn’t arrived? Lumian suppressed his anxiety and decided to wait across from Apartment 9.

Just as he exited the lobby and descended the stairs to the roadside, he noticed a brown four-wheeled carriage approaching from a distance. It came to a halt right in front of him.

The carriage driver had jet-black hair and piercing blue eyes. He sported dark red attire, yellow trousers, a polished hat, and a white cravat. It was Louis Lund!

In the next instant, the carriage door swung open noiselessly, revealing the figure of a woman seated within.