308 Incomprehensible Choice
The plump, middle-aged Anthony Reid found himself taken aback. But after a brief moment, he grinned in a self-deprecating way and uttered, “I was so rattled that I couldn’t even judge the authenticity of that sentence. As anticipated, a Spectator must take a seat in the audience.”
Lumian remained calmly seated, his smile unwavering.
“No, it’s not that simple. Why did I leap off the barstool? Why did I murmur into your ear from behind? My aim was to shield you from my subtle expressions and involuntary body language. In those moments, your emotions were already stirred, blurring your ability to decipher my true intent.”
A short pause followed Anthony Reid’s contemplative silence, then he spoke,
“That’s one reason. Another lies in your characteristic demeanor. I don’t know if you’ve caught on, but you tend to put on a bit of a show, appear nonchalant, or in modern terms, act cool.
“Just then, I believed those actions, given the circumstances, were in line with your usual behavior, aimed at lending weight to your words. So, suspicion didn’t even cross my mind.”
A chuckle escaped Lumian’s lips.
“It’s only natural for a lad like me to yearn for a touch of coolness, a bit of swagger. It also conveniently masks my true motives. Actually, both are genuine. That’s why they remain impervious to scrutiny.”
It was akin to him having Fire Ravens circling him with one hand in his pocket, unleashing them on his adversaries as he advanced. First, it was undeniably cool, and second, he seized the chance to grasp Mr. K’s finger to avert any potential mishaps.
Anthony Reid pondered momentarily before nodding.
“Only a superficial motive, steeped in authenticity, can truly deceive a Spectator.”
Raising his right foot over his left knee, Lumian steered the conversation back on track.
“Our journey to unveil the people and forces behind Hugues Artois hasn’t yet commenced, as we are engaged in more pressing matters. But fear not, we shall delve into this matter next week. We possess the relevant sources of information as well.”
Lumian’s strategy involved Jenna delving deeper into Hugues Artois’s background through the Purifiers, exploring ways she could “assist.”
As the one responsible for Hugues Artois’s demise, it was logical for Jenna to keep tabs on the investigation’s progress, hoping to unearth all details without arousing the official Beyonders’ suspicion. These thoughts and tendencies were inherent in Jenna, so Lumian didn’t need to fuel them further. Just a reminder would suffice.
In due course, the Purifiers could subtly guide Jenna and her companions toward actions they might find inconvenient. This would undeniably supply Anthony Reid’s investigation with invaluable leads.
Anthony Reid’s deep brown eyes mirrored Lumian’s figure as he absorbed the discourse in silence.
The information broker offered an almost imperceptible nod.
“I’ll stay a while longer.”
Engaging with Spectators of the Beyonder path is straightforward. There’s no need to concoct another tale or search for an excuse to sway him. He can ascertain the truth for himself… Lumian flashed a grin and gestured toward the bed. “Take a seat.”
This way, he needn’t expose Jenna’s true identity or her role as a Purifier informant.
Anthony Reid stood near the door, rooted in place, and spoke, “You’ve more or less sussed out what’s happened to me. Is there something else you want me to add?”
“I’d prefer a more detailed account,” Lumian responded without much ceremony.
Having been through the Poison Spur Mob, the Bliss Society, the Cordu catastrophe, Ruhr and Michel’s deaths, and the explosion at the Goodville Chemical Factory, Lumian found the evil gods and their minions abnormally repulsive. His casual demeanor had been replaced by a newfound seriousness.
Once, he’d believed that people could fancy whatever beliefs they pleased—that it didn’t concern him. Now, his perspective had entirely changed. He held that only heretics who’d gone to their grave were the good ones. The living ones were ticking time bombs of doom, liable to unleash havoc on him and his companions sooner or later.
So, he wasn’t just spinning tales for Anthony Reid. He truly planned on delving into Hugues Artois’ affairs and uncovering more of those heretics when he could spare a moment.
Moreover, this could endear him to Mr. K and the Aurora Order.
Of course, it did seem quite odd for a wanted mob leader to be lending a hand to the authorities in taking down cultists.
Anthony Reid’s expression darkened as he said, “Towards the end of the war with the Loen Kingdom, my comrades and I were stationed at a vital route in the northern foothills of the Hornacis mountain range. Our commanding officer was Major Hugues Artois.
“We were split into three companies, each at different positions. We were to prevent small Loen Kingdom Beyonder teams from crossing the treacherous path and attacking us from the rear, as well as defend against direct assaults.
“That night, gunshots and cannon fire suddenly shattered my sleep. I watched as my comrades were torn apart, one by one, from behind. Their heads exploding, bodies rent asunder. The earth became a sea of blood…”
At this point, Anthony Reid’s breath quickened, as if he was reliving the trauma.
He paused for a moment before continuing, “In the midst of that war, I had a fortuitous encounter that pushed my Sequence upward. I never reported it to Hugues Artois. Using my newfound abilities, I managed to break through the encirclement with four wounded comrades and retreated.
“Two of them were gravely hurt and were left behind on the mountain path for—forever. I can still see their pained and angry gazes.
“At first, I thought maybe one of the other positions had been compromised, or that Loen’s airships had dropped troops behind us under cover of darkness. But later, I realized that the reason was that Hugues Artois’s company had chosen to retreat without informing us, after encountering only a probing attack!”
Lumian pondered for a moment before replying, “When Hugues Artois ordered the retreat, didn’t those soldiers question it? Didn’t they try to get word to the other two positions?”
“Hugues Artois was our commanding officer, and he knew how to give rousing speeches. Plus, he had a warrant supposedly signed by General Philip,” Anthony Reid said, his expression grim. “The soldiers back then assumed he had already passed on orders to the other positions. I still can’t wrap my head around why he’d sacrifice us. It wouldn’t have taken much time or caused him any harm.”
“Maybe he was overwhelmed and forgot,” Lumian suggested, not out to defend the late Hugues Artois, merely offering a possible explanation.
Anthony Reid shook his head.
“He wasn’t a green recruit on his first battlefield. He had proven his mettle in prior fights, showed his leadership under duress.”
Lumian didn’t delve further, allowing Anthony Reid to continue.
“Once we found out the truth, the three of us fought to bring Hugues Artois to military court, but it was futile. They’d simply tell us that imagination wasn’t evidence.
“Helpless, we watched Hugues Artois shift into politics after the war and rise through the ranks.
“My other two comrades were frail to start with. They passed away burdened by fury and pain. When Hugues Artois threw his hat in the ring for the Enlightenment Party in the market district’s parliamentary election, I ended up here.”
Lumian nodded slightly and inquired, “Being an information broker, that’s to hide your true identity?”
“No, I’ve been scraping by as an information broker for a few years now,” Anthony Reid replied with a wry smile. “Plus, this cover helps me dig deeper into Hugues Artois’ dealings.”
“Any breakthroughs?” Lumian asked naturally.
Anthony Reid’s expression darkened as he answered, “Hugues Artois’ foray into politics seems unremarkable. He rode General Philip’s coattails and climbed the ladder. His eloquence caught the eye of several senior Enlightenment Party MPs. And he forged ties with a handful of ex-noble families.”
“Is General Philip a concern?” Lumian queried, straightforward as ever.
Anthony Reid sighed slowly, his voice heavy, “The general met his end before I could investigate him. Official word is—illness took him.”
Lumian posed a few more questions before saying, “I’ll catch up with you when I’ve got more to share.”
“Sure.” Anthony Reid understood Lumian’s sincerity.
…
After departing Auberge du Coq Doré, Lumian made his way back to the safe house on Rue des Blouses Blanches. He swung open the iron cabinet, retrieving a hefty stack of information concerning the denizens of the spirit world.
Within the assortment, he discovered a notebook labeled ‘Sights in the Spirit World.’ Flipping through a couple of pages, he could feel a surge of frustration and anxiety creeping into his mind.
His immediate aim wasn’t to grasp the intricacies of the spirit world, but rather to pinpoint suitable creatures from that realm. Thus, he closed the notebook and delved into the introductions of the various spirit world entities.
Somewhat inexplicably, after poring over the pages for over half an hour, Lumian sensed his mental energy draining away. His thoughts seemed to evaporate, forcing him to bring his study session to an abrupt close. He sprawled out on the bed, drifting into slumber.
Early the next morning, Lumian arrived at Apartment 601, 3 Rue des Blouses Blanches, and rang the doorbell.
Franca had already risen from her sleep, attired in her customary shirt and breeches. She directed her gaze towards Lumian and inquired, “What brings you here so early?”
Lumian’s eyes flicked towards Jenna, who occupied the living room, a smile tugging at his lips.
“Isn’t today the day Jenna advances to being an Instigator? I’m here to witness the moment.”
A frown played across Franca’s features as she muttered, “You seem quite concerned about her.”
“Absolutely,” Lumian affirmed, his grin widening. “Once she’s an Instigator, she can aid me in dealing with Guillaume Bénet. While I can’t exactly count on her for a direct confrontation, she’ll excel at launching sneak attacks and surveying the surroundings to forestall any potential mishaps.”
Jenna emitted a derisive snort, while Franca offered a mix of exasperation and amusement through a tongue click. “Your words are like honey.”
“The kind that’s already been digested?” Lumian chuckled, his self-awareness evident.
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