Chapter 738: Night

In a vacant house within the Memorial District.

Angoulême de François, wearing a lion mask, stood by the window, gazing at the rows of gas lamps below, patiently waiting.

After the "lost contact" incident, he and "Dagger Sleeve" changed their emergency communication method, ensuring they could quickly reach each other even if telegraph networks failed and without relying on Ms. Hela's messengers.

Last night, immediately after finishing the Morane Avigny case, he attempted to locate "Dagger Sleeve."

Finally, "Dagger Sleeve" Franca emerged from the shadows, clad in her assassin outfit.

Angoulême skipped pleasantries and asked directly:

"Did you take Morane Avigny?"

"Who else?" Franca replied with a smile.

Though the "Watcher" Perle's mention of the Vortex hung like a sword above her head, preventing Franca from relaxing despite Morane Avigny's death and the intelligence she had gained, she did not let it crush her spirits or make her frantic.

Such grave matters naturally belonged to the Major Arcana to worry over; all she and her team needed to do was follow orders—worrying was useless.

Besides, the intelligence gathered this time was vital, valuable enough that both the "Eternal Sun" Church and the Witch Cult would surely have to respond!

Franca looked forward to it.

"So it really was you…" Angoulême couldn't help murmuring.

"Dagger Sleeve" and her team moved with astonishing speed—once they decided to eliminate a minister of a nation, they acted swiftly, and succeeded.

Franca offered a brief cover for Lumian:

"We were waiting for Morane Avigny to walk into the mirror himself, but the Aurora Society suddenly tried to assassinate him, forcing him to trigger our trap prematurely."

Combining this with the scene's details, Angoulême nodded slightly:

"So it was coincidence…"

This aligned with many details confirmed by the "Purifiers."

Angoulême shifted topic:

"What happened to Morane Avigny?"

"Dead," Franca said with a "tsk." "He was indeed the 'Man in the Mirror,' and he revealed a great deal of crucial intelligence."

"What intelligence?" Angoulême pressed.

Franca chuckled, raising her right hand and rubbing her thumb and forefinger together:

"Where's my informant fee?"

Angoulême sighed, half-annoyed, half-amused:

"Don't forget, I contributed significantly to the operation against Morane Avigny. Even if I can't share the spoils, at least I deserve to hear the intelligence, right?"

Franca, who prided herself on fairness in "equipment division," cleared her throat awkwardly:

"Just a joke, just a joke.

"But the intelligence is truly vital—your superior will reward you. Don't forget to ask for my informant fee!"

"Tell me first," Angoulême replied firmly.

He wasn't stingy about informant fees—he was just eager to know, given how "Dagger Sleeve" had twice stressed the importance of this intelligence.

Franca omitted all details about the Tarot Society and the Aurora Society, starting from the capture of Ye Busi and continuing through the appearance of the painted figure from the "Watcher" Perle and Lumian's deductions about the entire affair.

Angoulême remained calm at first—the issues surrounding the "Man in the Mirror" were still within the "Purifiers'" speculated range—but when Morane Avigny was tricked into revealing that the leader of the "Man in the Mirror" was the mirror's version of Luo Saier Gustav, his head began to throb, the noise building relentlessly, growing louder and louder.

How do "Dagger Sleeve" and her team always stumble upon matters of this scale?

How long has it been since the "Inn" incident? Now another "Vortex"?

When Franca finished, Angoulême raised his right hand and pressed his aching temples, hidden beneath the lion mask, too overwhelmed to speak.

"Well? Aren't the Vortex plan, the 'Man in the Mirror,' and the traitor's identity crucial?" Franca asked, slightly smug.

Seeing Angoulême's gaze darken and his lips move as if grinding his teeth, Franca reflexively added:

"Don't blame me!

"We didn't bring these problems—Trier's inherent nature generates them constantly. We're victims too!"

Angoulême exhaled slowly:

"I will submit this intelligence tonight.

"I won't forget to pass on your request—what do you want?"

When he said "tonight," Angoulême's emotions flickered, pausing for a second.

He had just finished his work an hour ago, leaving Saint Vief Church—and now he had to return!

"I'm Agent '007,' not a wage slave working from midnight to midnight, seven days a week!" he cursed inwardly, yet outwardly remained composed, reliable, emotionally steady.

Franca thought carefully:

"All the ingredients for the 'Pleasure' elixir."

She had considered it—her "Pain" elixir could earn rewards from the Witch Cult, but Jian Na's could not; she had to rely on official channels.

"Aren't you already 'Pleasure'?" Angoulême muttered, gave up asking, and nodded. "I'll try to get it for you."

He didn't ask who "Dagger Sleeve" was preparing the "Pleasure" elixir for, just as he didn't ask how she and her companions survived before a semi-god's painted figure.

Upon receiving "007"'s promise, Franca felt a surge of joy:

Get "Pleasure" from the "Eternal Sun" Church, "Pain" from the Witch Cult, and "Judgment" Lady should give something too—one piece of intelligence sold three times… Now I understand why Lumian enjoyed receiving three rewards for a single task!

Angoulême rubbed his temples again, murmuring to himself:

"There are several cardinals on the 'Sun' path, and even more diocesan bishops—next, who knows what will be uncovered. I only hope the fallout doesn't spread too far."

He was referring to the "April Fool" core member within the "Eternal Sun" Church—now that they had a clear direction, even if the target used a "Broker" to carry out actions, it wouldn't be hard to trace.

Before Franca could respond, Angoulême added:

"The approval for the humanoid artifact's transaction has been granted. You may notify us of the transaction method at any time."

"Finally approved…" Franca grumbled about the bureaucratic delays, then asked curiously, "What's the story behind that humanoid artifact?"

She had seen it during the Prayer Ritual, aware of its power and its abnormality.

Angoulême shook his head:

I'm not authorized to access the files, but I know she was once a semi-divine figure on the "Audience" path, likely Rank 4. Then she suddenly went mad—but it's unclear whether she became insane first and was subsequently contaminated by a demonic god, or whether the contamination caused her madness.

"Probably the latter," Franca mused. "Aren't 'Audience' path adepts usually emotionally stable and hard to lose control?"

Angoulême disagreed:

"In my experience, 'Audience' adepts rarely have problems—but when they do, they're catastrophic."

"True," Franca thought of "a friend of mine."

After a few more exchanges, Angoulême bid farewell to "Dagger Sleeve" and left the vacant house.

As he stepped out, he quickly reviewed the intelligence he'd just received, then sighed inwardly with heavy emotion:

"Does Trier really have so many occult incidents?"

…………

In the Market District, Jian Na seized the opportunity to complete another "Witch" performance.

Dressed in a black cloak and dark gown, she moved through the shadows along the streets, searching for new opportunities to perform while pondering deeper directions for her role:

"I mustn't equate 'Witch' with doing evil—evil or dark acts aren't necessarily bad…

"In the various witch legends I've collected, a large portion describes witches using their dark, supernatural powers to help others fulfill their wishes, luring them to corruption…

"These legends likely contain deeds left by witches impersonating 'Witches'—worth imitating. Moreover, luring corruption is an extension of the 'Seducer,' and 'Pleasure' performances also lead targets to corruption…

"Hmm. Dark supernatural power, luring corruption, corruption bringing disaster…"

Jian Na's thoughts grew clearer.

As she pondered, she turned into Chaos Street, intending to seek a "Witch" performance opportunity on this most turbulent street.

After only a few steps, Jian Na suddenly heard someone screaming hysterically:

"Trier, gilded from top to bottom,

"Dances that last till dawn;

"Fat, dripping roast chicken,

"Like castle cakes;

"Waiters in bow ties weave through guests,

"Dancing with joyful steps.

"My beloved is among them,

"Among them.

"This is the City of Joy, this is Eternal Trier!"

That voice… Jian Na lifted her head from the shadows, gazing toward the Golden Rooster Inn, and saw Lumian sitting on the third-floor windowsill, wearing a brown thick jacket, holding a glass bottle filled with green liquid.

He wasn't supposed to be with the Aurora Society—he hadn't returned yet? Jian Na frowned slightly and stepped out of the shadows.

Lumian saw her too, smiled, and leapt down from the third floor, landing steadily before her.

"Why are you here?" Jian Na asked, concerned.

Lumian shrugged casually:

"Suddenly felt like coming back. Came for a drink."

Sensing an unusual excitement on Lumian's person, Jian Na hesitated before asking:

"Did something happen?"

"No," Lumian denied without hesitation, adding again, "I'm fine."

He walked toward the exit of Chaos Street, holding the bottle of absinthe; Jian Na followed slightly behind, silent, asking no further questions.

Beneath the crimson moonlight and scattered gas lamps, after a long silence, Lumian suddenly laughed and declared:

I'm going to begin desecrating the divine.

No, it has already begun.

He did not turn around, continuing to walk forward.

"Aren't you always desecrating the divine?" Yu Jianna cautiously used Lumian's usual self-mockery as a probe.

Lumian still gazed at the darkness ahead and answered with a clear smile:

"This time is different."

He quickened his pace and said no more about it.

Yu Jianna glanced at Lumian's leather boots, caked with mud, then at the surrounding environment—dirty and messy, yet lacking any damp soil—and pressed her lips together, asking no further.

Lumian kept walking, occasionally humming a few lines, occasionally chatting idly with Yu Jianna, making jokes, his face always wearing a distinct smile.

He walked all the way back to his rented apartment and entered his own room.

Yu Jianna stood quietly in the living room, watching Lumian close the wooden door of his bedroom.

In the dark room, where only faint crimson moonlight seeped in, Lumian sat at his desk, spread out a sheet of paper, and picked up his pen.

He did not light the gas wall lamp, nor summon a blazing white fireball; in the enveloping darkness, under the dim light, he let the pen touch the paper.

Amid the scratch-scratch-scratch of pen on paper, Lumian's smile vanished swiftly, and the movement of his wrist grew slower and slower.

Finally, he finished writing the unusually brief letter:

"Dear Madame 'The Magician':

"I would like to meet you."

PS: Who else should be added to the character roster? Let me know—I'm afraid I've missed someone. I'll handle it all tonight.

(End of Chapter)