Chapter 411: Mocking Speed-Kill

"Right on time!"

A smirk appeared on Sinuoli's stone-statue face; a warrior-tank combination must rely on defensive counterattacks to deal with an assassin. If this Great Keeper kept relying on speed to kite and find openings, it would truly be difficult to handle.

"Boom! Boom-boom!"

A heavy stomp, carrying thunder, stirred up a... in the underground hall.

"I am a loser, hardly paying attention to whether the sun is shining or not, because I have no time.

"My parents couldn't provide me with support, my education level 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 like 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 to live in that dark basement without having to go outside to endure the unusually cold winter wind.

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

"The hospital at night is even colder than I imagined. The wall lamps in the corridor aren't lit, and it is dim everywhere; I can only rely on the little bit of light seeping out from the rooms to help me see my feet.

"The smell there is very bad. From time to time, the deceased are sent over stuffed in body bags, and we cooperate to help move them into the morgue.

"This isn't a very good job, but at least it allows me to afford bread. The free time at night can also be used for studying; after all, no one wants to come to the morgue unless there are corpses that need to be delivered or transported for cremation. Of course, I don't have enough money to buy books yet, and there is no hope of saving money at the moment.

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

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

"One day, the porter delivered a new corpse.

"According to others, this was that former colleague of mine who 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 leaving him a scrap of fabric.

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"I saw a strange mark on his chest, blue-black in color. I can't describe the exact shape; the light at the time was really too dim.

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

"Looking at this former colleague, I was thinking, if I keep going like this, when I get old, will I be the same as 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 things wouldn't find it troublesome and just throw them in some random river or wasteland.

"This will sacrifice a morning of my sleep, but fortunately, it will be Sunday soon, so I can make it up.

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

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

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

"I have a premonition that something will happen soon, a premonition that sooner or later, something that I don't know if it can be called human will come looking for me, but no one is willing to believe me, thinking that in such an environment and such a job, my mind has become abnormal and I need to see a doctor..."

A male guest sitting in front of the bar looked at 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 pressed very flat, with a simple dark round top hat at his hand.

He looked ordinary, just like most people in the tavern, black hair, light blue eyes, not 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 and straight figure, slender limbs, also with short black hair and light blue eyes, but with deep facial features that could make one's eyes light up.

This young man looked at the empty wine glass in front of him and sighed:

"And then?

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

As he spoke, a smile appeared on his face, a smile with a bit of a teasing tone.

That male guest was stunned for a moment:

"The things you just told were bragging?"

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

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

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

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

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, slowly stood up, 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 to the side, spread his hands toward the guest from out of town, and smiled brightly:

"It seems she writes really well.

"Sorry for making you misunderstand."

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

"A very interesting story.

"How should I address you?"

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

The guest from out of town nodded:

"My name is Ryan Cos.

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

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

The man was twenty-seven or twenty-eight, his yellow hair dusted with a bit of powder; his eyes, not particularly large, were a shade deeper than the blue of a lake, and he wore a white waistcoat, a blue fine-wool coat, and black trousers, clearly having dressed with great care before heading out.

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

The woman appeared younger than the two men, her long, 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, as if she found what had just happened merely interesting.

Under the light of the tavern's gas wall lamp, this woman named Lea revealed a pert nose and beautifully curved lips, making her an absolute beauty in a countryside place like Kordu village.

She wore a white, unpleated cashmere tight-fitting dress, paired with a cream-colored small coat and a pair of Masier Boots; two small silver Bell were tied to her veil and boots respectively, and as she walked into the tavern just now, they jingled all the way, attracting much attention 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 Bigor or the capital Trier.

Lumian nodded to the three strangers:

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

"Lee?" Lea blurted out.

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

Ryan Cos helped Lea explain:

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

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

"Those who have had contact with sailors and sea merchants all know 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 don't know, but since such a legend exists, it certainly won't be unfounded."

He ended this topic and said to Lumian:

"Thank you for your story, it is worth a drink; what would you like?"

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

Ryan Cos frowned slightly and said:

"'Green Fairy'... Absinthe?

"I think I need to remind you that wormwood is harmful to the human body; this kind of alcohol 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." Lea 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 alcohol 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 schnapps.

"Why not get 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 situation of this kid from beginning to end!" the thin, middle-aged man who 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 have another glass of 'Green Fairy'?"

"Because they don't know whether to believe what you say." 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."

"Fine." Lumian shrugged his shoulders, watching the bartender push a glass of pale green liquid toward him.

Ryan looked at him and asked:

"Is this okay?"

"No problem, as long as your wallet is enough to pay for these drinks." Lumian was completely indifferent.

"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 be a mortuary attendant? Hmm, the nearest hospital to us is in Daliege down the mountain, which takes a whole afternoon to walk to."

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

She tilted her head slightly, producing a Elf 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 self-deprecating or ashamed that his past had been exposed like this.