Chapter 538

According to Lumian's train of thought, after arriving in Santa Port, the first thing to investigate is what kind of accident happened in last year's Sea Prayer Ceremony and who it involved, so as to find the traces left by the two core members of the "April Fools" and lock onto their real identities step by step.

This is also the part most easily misled and trapped.

Without a detailed understanding of last year's prank, Lumian didn't need the help of the "Knight of Swords," this Minor Arcana card, for the time being. He couldn't ask him to help inquire about this, right?

This is news blocked in Santa Port. Unless the "Knight of Swords" happens to be here, he can't help much.

—Lumian had wanted to fully grasp the overall situation of the Sea Prayer Ceremony and the details of last year's accident before arriving in Santa Port, but there was nowhere to inquire. It seemed to have become a secret unique to this place, and those who participated in the prank among the peripheral members of the "April Fools" were just joining in the fun and doing some minor work, and could only provide a small amount of information from their own perspective.

Snap, Lumian flicked his wrist, turning Ms. "Magician's" reply into a burning fireball.

He stood up, walked out of the master bedroom of the suite, and said to Lugano, who was on standby in the living room:

"We are going to get a set of local identities."

"You have already checked into the hotel using the identity of Louis Berry," Lugano reminded Lumian after a moment of thought.

Are we moving out of here now?

Wouldn't that be a waste of a whole week's rent?

Thinking of those 10.5 gold Jin Lisuo, Lugano felt a bit of heartache.

Spending money is not a problem, but it can't be wasted!

As a bounty hunter who had lived a hard life for many years, he was still quite sensitive to money, otherwise he wouldn't have had the nerve to ask Lumian for a "job" in the first place.

"Is there any problem with that?" Lumian asked back with a smile.

Santa Port in October was still quite hot. He simply wore a linen shirt and brown trousers, holding the golden straw hat in his hand.

Lugano didn't know whether he should say that he was mainly heartbroken about the money, so he changed his mind and said:

"Boss, I just went to the street to buy a few newspapers and found that there are rumors in Falingang that you hunted the 'Devil Wizard'."

When he saw this news, Lugano rubbed his eyes several times, suspecting that he had misread it.

When did his boss kill the "Devil Wizard"?

Why didn't I know?

When he remembered the master bedroom that looked like it had been hit by artillery fire, he was half-believing.

"It was me," Lumian nodded slightly, responding to Lugano's words.

"..." Lugano suddenly lost the ability to organize language.

After a few seconds, he suppressed his curiosity and pretended to suddenly realize:

"You earned a bounty of 600,000 Feljin, plus various spoils of war, no wonder you've been so generous these past few days..."

No wonder he didn't take the rent of twenty or thirty Feljin to heart.

"Those were all donated," Lumian said simply.

"Why?" Lugano blurted out.

Lumian scanned him.

Lugano immediately closed his mouth and smiled sheepishly:

"We do need to move out of here. 'Louis Berry' is famous in the Fog Sea and is easily targeted."

He accurately interpreted what the other party wanted to express from Lumian's look just now:

Am I the boss, or are you the boss?

Do I need to explain to you why I donated the bounty?

"Who told you we were moving out?" Lumian asked back with a smile.

"Not moving out..." Lugano was stunned.

Lumian smiled meaningfully:

"Otherwise, why do you think I didn't let the clergy of the 'Fool' Church who helped me collect the bounty hide my identity?"

The high-profile adventurer Louis Berry was a flag he planted in the open to see what it would attract.

Therefore, he needed a hidden, ordinary local identity to cooperate.

"I, I thought you just wanted to be as famous as Gehrman Sparrow in the Five Seas." Although Lugano didn't know the real purpose of his employer doing this, he could feel that it was definitely not as simple as it looked on the surface.

Lumian laughed:

"Among our generation of young people, who doesn't want to be as famous as Gehrman Sparrow in the Five Seas?"

This did indeed satisfy his vanity, and it was one of the purposes for him not letting Bishop Thais of the "Fool" Church help cover up the clues.

Only a real, believable surface purpose can cover up other intentions hidden underneath.

"Uh..." Lugano had that feeling again of not being able to see the true face of his employer and not being able to judge his ultimate goal.

He sighed inwardly:

Hey, I'm just a "Farmer," a "Physician," a bounty hunter with many years of experience, and my brain can only be considered ordinary...

Lumian looked at Ludwig, who was obediently gnawing on a potato pancake beside him, and said:

"Let's go."

After speaking, he pushed the coat rack into a blind spot and hung the golden straw hat on it.

If someone looked over from the building opposite, they would see a person wearing a straw hat standing in the corner.

After leaving the Solo Hotel, Lumian walked along the street paved with gray-white stone slabs toward the busiest bar street near the port area, with Lugano holding Ludwig and following closely behind.

The current street was quite old, filled with various houses with white walls, red tiles, and mottled surfaces. The doorways of some buildings were like Cordu Village, with four or five chairs placed, and several old women sitting there, sunning themselves and chatting, just not helping each other catch lice.

And when pedestrians passed by them, they would lighten their steps and lower their voices, not disturbing such peace and harmony.

According to the knowledge Lumian gained from chatting with the bartender Francesco at the bottom-floor bar of the "Flying Bird," this is a Feynapot-style phenomenon produced by the joint influence of the faith in the "Mother Goddess of Earth" and the emphasis on family traditions:

"Grandmother Culture."

In every family, the grandmother with the highest seniority who has given birth to many children is the most respected and is the undisputed "head of the family," controlling the life of every member of the family to a certain extent. Even when they walk out of the house, they are equally respected by outsiders, because such grandmothers and old mothers are equivalent to the symbol of a big family, equivalent to the incarnation of the "Mother Goddess of Earth" in that big family.

Religious faith and social traditions jointly ensure that such grandmothers obtain a special status.

Seeing this scene, Lumian couldn't help but think of a question:

In Leiston Province, do married women who are the actual heads of the family have the right to obtain the title of "Lady" and add the prefix "Na" to their names because they are influenced by the Feynapot "Grandmother Culture" across the mountains?

You know, migrating herdsmen and traveling merchants will inevitably bring back what they have seen and heard, and migration and business are ancient behaviors that can be traced back to the Darliege Mountains and the settlement of people on its north and south sides, accumulating over thousands of years, which must leave some indelible marks.

Walking on the old but peaceful street, walking in the brilliant sunshine, Lumian was a bit dazed for a moment, as if he had returned to Cordu Village, returned to the busy season when the adults were either in the fields or up the mountains herding sheep or hunting, leaving only the old women and young children.

…………

Trier, third layer of the catacombs.

Jenna closed her eyes and sensed for a while, but still didn't hear any sighs or other movements from the black "Column of Night of Kriesmuna."

She confirmed the current state of her substitute mirrors, carefully approached the pillar without traces of wind and frost, and pressed her palm on it.

The black pillar that looked like it supported the cave roof was ice-cold, looking like metal, but the feel was still that of rock.

Besides receiving this information, Jenna's brain didn't obtain anything else.

"Still not working," she shook her head at Franca again.

At the same time, she recalled the process of hearing Kriesmuna's voice twice before, looking for commonalities.

Once was when she advanced, and once was when they were affected by some power in the special mirror world inside the Trier of the Fourth Epoch.

The commonality is that they were both in crisis and had strong emotions.

"The danger when I became a 'Witch' was suppressed by the sacrificial square, so it wasn't actually big. The point is strong emotions?" Jenna said in a low voice, trying to recall the things that made her painful and tormented, mobilizing her emotions.

This included her mother's death, the separation from her brother, and the various pains she had seen, heard, and experienced.

Jenna's emotions fluctuated significantly, but she still didn't hear the illusory sigh or feel any abnormality in the "Column of Night of Kriesmuna."

Franca deliberated and said:

"Must there be a special event to trigger it?"

"Maybe," Jenna bit her lip lightly and said, "How about we try the fourth layer? Lumian said that there are shadows formed after the death of a suspected 'Witch' pathway angel, that should be Kriesmuna."

Franca's heart moved:

"Yes, and that shadow is controlled by the seal and does not have the ability to attack humans. Well, provided that we strictly follow that series of rules in the catacombs."

After discussing for a few sentences, the two walked around the "Column of Night of Kriesmuna," changed the candles, walked into the old and mottled stone steps, and walked down step by step under the gaze of piles of deep gray human head reliefs that looked like reality on the rock walls on both sides.

"This place is very suitable for telling ghost stories, the atmosphere is really great," Franca couldn't help but speak to break the suffocating dead silence.

Jenna turned her head to look at her and teased:

"Are you scared?"

"How is that possible?" Franca responded stubbornly.

Jenna laughed softly:

"If you weren't scared, you would tell ghost stories to scare me directly. Just sighing now shows that you mainly want to rely on your voice to build up your courage."

It's a waste of talent that you didn't choose the "Spectator" pathway... Do theater actors have to learn to figure people out? Franca just wanted to argue a few sentences, but she had already finished walking down the last layer of old stone steps.

She and Jenna felt suppressed at the same time.

The next second, a yellowish candlelight reflected in their eyes.

That candlelight didn't belong to them, coming from the distance of the fourth layer of the catacombs, faintly visible.

(End of chapter)