入室强性暴

“Deputy Director of Loen Kingdom’s MI9 Spotted in the Crossfire of Market District Terror!”

“Fiery Debate at National Convention: Eternal Blazing Sun Church’s Role in Hugues Artois Assassination!”

“Shocking Malpractice!”

“Negotiating the Limits: Two Churches in Talks Over Parliamentary Immunity Restrictions”

“No Oath, No Immunity: Debating the Rights of Unsworn Members”

“National Convention or Heretic Haven?”

“Hugues Artois Shielding Heretics Behind Market District Terrorism!”

The headlines from different newspapers stood out, capturing Jenna’s attention under the blazing afternoon sun. She scanned the newspapers’ headlines, witnessing the fervent debate taking place from different angles.

Jenna’s gaze eventually settled on the wanted posters adorning the newsstand’s side.

“Guillaume Bénet…”

“Pualis de Roquefort…”

“Lumian Lee…”

“Celia Bello…”

Jenna stared at her own poster, finding it peculiarly enchanting.

The portrait displayed bore no resemblance to her; her features were almost reversed, except for her undeniable beauty. Even her brother Julien would fail to recognize her as his sister, let alone any bounty hunters.

And so, Jenna continued her studies at the Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons by day, and entertained audiences with her voice at the Salle de Bal Brise by night, making ends meet. Her life remained unchanged, just as it had been.

If it weren’t for the daily newspaper debates surrounding Hugues Artois’s demise and the ensuing conflicts, Jenna would have doubted whether her act of assassinating him was merely a dream born out of emotional turmoil.

Based on Franca’s findings and her own speculations, the official Beyonders seemed to appreciate Jenna’s elimination of Hugues Artois. They believed she had made a significant contribution in eradicating a group of heretics. Had it not been for the pressure from the National Convention and the various restrictions in place, they might have even considered honoring Jenna with a medal.

Hence, they intentionally spread misleading information, crafting a wanted poster that deviated from reality. They employed an investigation as a pretext to aid Jenna’s brother, Julien, in purging the malicious powers that had destabilized his emotions. They cured his latent psychological illness and provided him with a legitimate occupation as a fitter, all under the guise of humanitarianism and support for believers.

For Jenna, aside from the necessity to avoid her neighbors whenever she encountered Julien, her life remained relatively unhindered. She pursued her studies in theater acting and transformed into Showy Diva whenever the need arose.

Drawing from Franca’s experience, if Jenna lingered in the market district for a few more days, the Purifiers of the Eternal Blazing Sun Church would likely approach her, sharing common knowledge and taboos to prevent any accidental disasters caused by her wild Beyonder powers. They might even attempt to recruit her as an informant.

If it were a Beyonder from the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery, they might choose to observe her covertly, trailing her steps and uncovering the source of her Beyonder characteristic. Depending on the circumstances, they would determine whether to apprehend her immediately and transform her into an informant or play the long game to capture more significant players. The Purifiers, on the other hand, would likely adopt a more transparent approach, considering Jenna’s substantial assistance in their cause.

Jenna paid little mind to these matters. If the official Beyonders sought her capture, she would flee. If they wished to recruit her as an informant, she would comply. And if they disregarded her altogether, she would continue working to repay her debts and save for next year’s tuition.

Retracting her gaze, Jenna, dressed in a grayish-white gown, stepped out of Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons. She turned towards Rue des Blouses Blanches, seeking some rest before adorning her face with smoky and decadent makeup, preparing to become the captivating Showy Diva at the Salle de Bal Brise.

Apartment 601, 3 Rue des Blouses Blanches.

Franca, clad in a blouse, light-colored breeches, and wooden slippers, warmly greeted Lumian.

“Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons proves more profitable than anticipated!”

At the heretic’s estate charity auction for the post-disaster reconstruction, Gardner Martin had acquired Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons for 50,000 verl d’or and entrusted its management to Franca. Most of the profits were left in her hands as his mistress.

During the auction, he had also secured Auberge du Coq Doré for 2,000 verl d’or. Occasionally, he dispatched individuals to conduct peculiar investigations, as if seeking to uncover the truth behind the disaster.

Lumian undoubtedly took charge of the daily operations.

As the weather warmed, Lumian embraced the change by donning a light brown pair of trousers, a crisp white shirt, and a black waistcoat. He didn’t bother with a coat.

Rather than inquire about the profits of Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons, Lumian surveyed the surroundings and posed a question.

“I wish to know more about the secret organization we’ve joined.”

He had initially assumed Franca would inform him at an opportune moment. However, after waiting for several days, it seemed Franca had forgotten about the matter, leaving Lumian no choice but to seek answers himself.

Franca was taken aback, her surprise evident as she blurted out, “You don’t know?”

You joined without any knowledge of the organization?

Had it not been for Madam Judgment’s confirmation that Lumian was a member, Franca would have suspected he was bluffing and hadn’t actually joined.

Lumian explained sincerely, “I was on probation before, and after passing the assessment, my Major Arcana card left it to you to reveal the details.”

Franca accepted the explanation, recalling her own limited knowledge during her early days with the organization.

She settled back into the recliner, crossing her legs and straightening her posture.

“We are all members of the Tarot Club.”

Tarot Club… Upon hearing the name, Lumian, already seated on the opposite sofa, showed no surprise. After all, members of this clandestine group adopted tarot cards as their code names. The core members were associated with the Major Arcana cards, while ordinary members bore the Minor Arcana cards.

Franca’s face gradually lit up with pride.

“Our Tarot Club is the most exceptional secret organization in the entire world. One could even argue it is among the most powerful.”

“That’s because our leader is a supreme entity standing at the apex of all deities. In other secret organizations, the deities they serve merely watch over and provide divine insight. They do not actively participate. However, before Mr. Fool descended into a deep slumber, He regularly convened gatherings in His divine kingdom for the Major Arcana cardholders. What do we call it? A true Divine Council! Other Churches may have so-called Divine Councils, but at best, they are meetings held under the watchful gaze of a deity. It is not a gathering conducted in the presence of a deity with the deity’s direct involvement.”

Franca pressed a hand to her chest and offered a slight bow.

“Praise The Fool!”

Lumian had contemplated the Tarot Club’s potential. After all, Madam Magician exuded an air of mystery and power. Yet, he never anticipated that the great existence she spoke of would be the leader of the Tarot Club.

This shattered his preconceived notions of deities.

After a moment of contemplation, he voiced his thoughts.

“Is Mr. Fool called ‘The Fool’ because He holds The Fool card from the Major Arcana?”

So He, too, is a member of the Tarot Club?

“That is partly the reason,” Franca replied after a brief pause. “However, no one can confirm it. I suspect it is because ‘The Fool’ is one of the many honorific names bestowed upon Mr. Fool. Hence, when establishing the secret organization, He chose the name ‘Tarot Club’ and assigned different tarot cards to each member.”

“But can we really address Him directly as ‘Mr. Fool’?” Lumian questioned, finding it somewhat blasphemous or disrespectful to refer to a deity using the honorific ‘Mr.’ It seemed too ordinary and lacked the necessary sanctity.

Franca smiled and assured him, “There is no issue. It is said that Mr. Fool Himself quite enjoys this form of address.”

Seeing that Lumian had no further inquiries, Franca continued.

“In many ritualistic magics, if you are unable to find a suitable recipient for your prayers, you can seek aid from Mr. Fool. Although the process may differ from your expectations, it will invariably lead to the desired outcome in a wondrous manner.”

“The only caveat is that Mr. Fool is in a deep slumber, and we must not disturb Him too often. According to my Major Arcana card, we should not do so more than once a month unless absolutely necessary. Reciting His honorific name alone will not draw attention or assistance. In fact, it may result in failure and pose a certain risk. The power inadvertently released by a slumbering deity is capable of obliterating us countless times over. Thus, we must perform a ritual to ensure our safety.”

Madam Magician had mentioned this before, but as per her explanation, Mr. Fool’s slumber holds more significance than mere sleep… Franca seems unaware of the details? Lumian contemplated this as he asked thoughtfully, “What kind of deity is Mr. Fool?”

Franca cleared her throat and replied, “My lecture wouldn’t do it justice. Haha, I don’t remember all that much. I suggest you visit Mr. Fool’s cathedral and listen to the bishop’s sermons.”

“Mr. Fool’s cathedral?” Lumian exclaimed in surprise.

Was there a cathedral dedicated to Mr. Fool in Trier?

Weren’t there only two Churches in Intis?

Franca explained, “Mr. Fool’s Church primarily resides in the Rorsted Archipelago of the Sonia Sea and some locations in the Southern Continent. However, due to the beliefs of many merchants, sailors, bounty hunters, and treasure seekers at sea, we often encounter followers of Mr. Fool at Lavigny Docks in the square district.”

“Later, for certain reasons, the two Churches agreed to construct a small cathedral there for Mr. Fool’s Church, allowing passing sea merchants to offer their prayers. However, proselytizing or preaching outside the cathedral is strictly prohibited. Most Trieriens are unaware of its existence.”

The square district lay on the north bank of the Srenzo River, west of Trier. Lavigny Docks bustled with various goods arriving from numerous seaside ports. Sea merchants frequently passed through, while sailors sought to experience the vibrancy and prosperity of Trier.

To the west of Lavigny Docks stood Trocadéro Town, renowned for its Trocadéro liquor.

Lumian nodded and said, “I shall find time to visit and listen.”

With that settled, he asked curiously, “What is the connection between Mr. Fool’s Church and our Tarot Club?”