Chapter 480: Dagger Revealed at the End of the Map

"Did I give you permission to leave?"

Lan Canghai turned around, meeting the deep gaze of that powerhouse from beyond the domain.

"Oh? What does Your Excellency mean by this?"

A trace of an inexplicable meaning flashed in Lan Canghai's eyes.

"It was Hall Master Liu who invited us in the first place. Since Hall Master Liu is tied up with worldly affairs, I..."

"I am a failure. I hardly pay attention to whether the sunlight is bright or not, because I have no time."

"My parents couldn't provide me with support, my education isn't high, and I am all alone in the city searching for a future."

"I looked for many jobs, but I couldn't get hired. Perhaps no one likes someone who isn't good at speaking, doesn't love to communicate, and hasn't shown enough ability."

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"I only ate two loaves of bread in three whole days. Hunger made it impossible for me to sleep at night. Fortunately, I had paid a month's rent in advance, so I could continue living in that dark basement without having to go outside and endure the unusually cold winter wind."

"Finally, I found a job, keeping watch at a hospital—keeping watch over the morgue."

"The nights at the hospital were even colder than I imagined. The wall lamps in the corridor weren't lit, and it was dim everywhere; I could only rely on the tiny bit of light seeping out from the rooms to help me see my feet."

"The smell there was awful. From time to time, the dead were sent over stuffed in body bags, and we would cooperate to help move them into the morgue."

"It wasn't a very good job, but at least it allowed me to afford bread. The free time at night could also be used for studying; after all, no one is willing to come to the morgue unless there is a corpse that needs to be delivered or transported for cremation. Of course, I didn't have enough money to buy books yet, and I couldn't see any hope of saving money for the time being."

"I have to thank my former colleague. If it weren't for his sudden resignation, I might not have even been able to get a job like this."

"I dreamed of being able to rotate to the day shift. Now, I always sleep when the sun comes out and wake up after night falls, which has made my body a bit weak, and my head occasionally throbs with pain."

"One day, the porters delivered a new corpse."

"I heard from others that this was my former colleague who had suddenly resigned."

"I was a bit curious about him. After everyone left, I pulled out the cabinet and quietly opened the body bag."

"He was an old man, his face blue and white, covered in wrinkles, looking very frightening under the very dim light."

"He didn't have much hair, most of it was white, and all his clothes had been stripped off; not even a piece of cloth was left for him."

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"I saw a strange mark on his chest, blue-black in color. I can't describe exactly what it looked like; the light at the time was just too dim."

"I reached out and touched that mark, but there was nothing special."

"Looking at this former colleague, I wondered, if I keep going like this, when I get old, will I be just like him..."

"I told him that tomorrow I would accompany him to the crematorium and personally take his ashes to the nearest free cemetery, so that those responsible for these matters wouldn't find it troublesome and just throw them in some random river or wasteland."

"This would sacrifice one morning of my sleep, but fortunately, it would be Sunday soon, so I could make it up."

"After saying that, I fixed the body bag and shoved it back into the cabinet."

"The light in the room seemed to get even dimmer..."

"After that day, every time I slept, I would always dream of a thick fog."

"I had a premonition that something would happen before long, a premonition that sooner or later, something that I didn't know if it could be called human would come looking for me. But no one was willing to believe me; they felt that in such an environment and such a job, my mind had become abnormal and I needed to see a doctor..."

A male guest sitting at the bar looked toward the storyteller who had suddenly stopped:

"And then?"

This male guest was in his thirties, wearing a brown tweed jacket and light yellow trousers. His hair was pressed very flat, and there was a simple dark bowler hat by his hand.

He looked ordinary, just like most people in the tavern—black hair, light blue eyes, neither good-looking nor ugly, lacking any obvious features.

And the storyteller in his eyes was a young man of eighteen or nineteen, with a tall, straight build and slender limbs. He also had short black hair and light blue eyes, but his features were deep and striking, enough to make one's eyes light up.

The young man looked at the empty wine glass in front of him, sighed, and said:

"And then?

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"Then I quit, went back to the countryside, and came here to brag to you."

As he spoke, a smile appeared on his face, a smile with a hint of mischief.

That male guest was stunned for a moment:

"The things you just told were bragging?"

"Haha." A burst of laughter erupted around the bar.

As the laughter subsided slightly, a thin, middle-aged man looked at the slightly embarrassed guest and said:

"Outsider, you actually believed Lumian's stories? What he tells every day is different. Yesterday he was still a poor wretch whose fiancée broke off their engagement, and today he's become a corpse keeper!"

"Right, saying things like 'thirty years on the east side of the Sellenzo River, thirty years on the right side of the Sellenzo River,' just babbling nonsense!" another tavern regular chimed in.

They were all farmers from the large village of Kordu, wearing short jackets that were black, gray, or brown.

The black-haired young man called Lumian leaned on the bar with both hands, stood up slowly, and said with a smile:

"You know, this isn't a story I made up; it was all written by my sister. She loves writing stories the most and is even a columnist for *Novel Weekly*."

After finishing, he turned his body, spread his hands toward the outsider, and smiled brightly:

"It seems she writes really well.

"Sorry for the misunderstanding."

The man in the brown tweed jacket with the ordinary appearance was not angry; he stood up as well and responded with a smile:

"A very interesting story.

"What should I call you?"

"Isn't it common sense to introduce yourself before asking others?" Lumian laughed.

The guest from out of town nodded:

"My name is Ryan Kos.

"These two are my companions, Valentine and Liya."

The latter sentence referred to the man and woman sitting right next to them.

The man was twenty-seven or twenty-eight, his yellow hair dusted with powder, his eyes—not particularly large—a shade deeper than the blue of a lake; he wore a white vest, a blue fine-wool coat, and black trousers, clearly having groomed himself meticulously before heading out.

His expression was quite indifferent, and he did not pay much attention to the farmers and herdsmen around him.

The woman looked younger than the two men, her light gray hair tied into a complex bun, wrapped in a white veil that served as a hat.

Her eyes were the same color as her hair, and the gaze she directed at Lumian carried undisguised amusement; she seemed to find what had just happened merely interesting.

Under the light of the tavern's gas wall lamp, this woman named Liya revealed a pert nose and beautifully curved lips; in a countryside place like Kordu village, she could definitely be called a beauty.

She wore a white, unpleated cashmere tight-fitting dress, paired with a cream-colored small coat and a pair of Marsil boots; there were two small silver bells tied to her veil and boots respectively, and when she had just walked into the tavern, they had jingled all the way, making her very eye-catching and causing many men to stare blankly.

In their eyes, this must be the kind of fashionable attire found only in big cities like the provincial capital Daliez or the capital Trier.

Lumian nodded at the three strangers:

"My name is Lumian Lee; you can just call me Lumian."

"Lee?" Liya blurted out.

"What's wrong? Is there a problem with my surname?" Lumian asked curiously.

Ryan Kos helped explain for Liya:

"This surname of yours is terrifying; I almost couldn't control my voice just now."

Seeing the surrounding farmers and herdsmen looking puzzled, he explained further:

"Anyone who has had contact with sailors or sea merchants knows that there is a saying circulating on the Five Seas:

"Better to encounter those pirate generals or even kings than to run into a person named Frank Lee.

"That person's surname is also Lee."

"Is he very scary?" Lumian asked.

Ryan shook his head:

"I'm not sure, but since such a legend exists, it certainly won't be trivial."

He cut off this topic and said to Lumian:

"Thanks for your story; it's worth a drink. What would you like?"

"A glass of 'Green Fairy'." Lumian was not at all polite and sat back down.

Ryan Kos frowned slightly and said:

"'Green Fairy'... Absinthe?

"I think I need to remind you: absinthe is harmful to the human body; this kind of liquor can lead to mental confusion and cause you to have hallucinations."

"I didn't expect the fashion trends of Trier to have already spread here," Liya added with a smile from the side.

Lumian said "Oh":

"So people in Trier also like to drink 'Green Fairy'...

"For us, life is already hard enough; there's no need to care about a little more harm. This kind of liquor allows our spirits to achieve greater relaxation."

"Alright." Ryan sat back in his seat and looked at the bartender, "A glass of 'Green Fairy', and add a glass of 'Spicy Heart' for me."

"Spicy Heart" is a famous fruit shochu.

"Why not give me a glass of 'Green Fairy' too? I was the one who told you the truth just now, and I can even tell you the whole story about this kid!" the thin, middle-aged man who had first exposed that Lumian told stories every day shouted with dissatisfaction, "Strangers, I can tell that you still have doubts about the truth of that story!"

"Pierre, you really will do anything for a free drink!" Lumian responded loudly.

Without waiting for Ryan to make a decision, Lumian added:

"Why can't I tell it myself? That way I could drink another glass of 'Green Fairy'."

"Because they don't know whether to believe the situation you're describing," the middle-aged man named Pierre laughed triumphantly. "The story your sister loves to tell the children most is 'The Boy Who Cried Wolf'; those who always lie will inevitably lose their credibility."

"Alright." Lumian shrugged his shoulders, watching the bartender push a glass of pale green liquor in front of him.

Ryan looked at him and asked for confirmation:

"Is this okay?"

"No problem, as long as your wallet is enough to pay for these drinks." Lumian didn't care at all.

"Then another glass of 'Green Fairy'." Ryan nodded.

Pierre was suddenly all smiles:

"Generous strangers, this kid is the biggest prankster in the village; you must stay away from him.

"Five years ago, he was brought back to the village by his sister Aurore and has never left since. Think about it, before that, he was only thirteen; how could he have gone to a hospital to work as a mortuary attendant? Hmm, the closest hospital to us is in Daliez at the foot of the mountain, which takes an entire afternoon to walk to."

"Brought back to the village?" Liya asked keenly.

She tilted her head slightly, producing a jingling sound.

Pierre nodded:

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"Then, he followed Aurore and took the surname 'Lee', and even the name 'Lumian' was chosen by Aurore."

"I've even forgotten what I was originally called." Lumian took a sip of absinthe and said with a grin.

It seemed that he was not at all inferior or ashamed that his past had been exposed like this.