386 Caution
In the dark and deserted back alley,
Finally, he arrived at Rue des Blouses Blanches and entered the seemingly “abandoned” safe house, whose lease had not yet expired.
Following a process, he pulled the heavy curtains shut and meticulously inspected every corner of the room.
Compared to before, he not only eradicated the bedbugs and routed the rats but he also left no room for tiny, rice-grain-sized flying insects. He demanded absolute cleanliness.
With that done, Lumian seated himself at the table. He smoothed out a sheet of paper and began to write.
“Honorable Madame Hela,
“When I took part in the April Fool’s team discussion masquerading as my sister, Muggle, I couldn’t help but notice the peculiar reactions of Hisoka, Mad Lady, Bard, and Ultraman upon Muggle’s unexpected return after her prolonged absence. I suspect ‘I Know Someone’ was the psychiatrist Muggle sought in her final moments.
“Simultaneously, they were collaborating with Loki in a ruse, hoping to entice members from other teams to embark on a subterranean quest for the remains of the Ancient Sun God.
“I believe Loki is the de facto leader of April Fool’s. If there’s anything awry with the others, it undoubtedly concerns him as well. Consequently, I acquired a copy of the Ancient Sun God’s information from him and enlisted divination services to examine the mechanical typewriter responsible for producing the text. It happened at the Alone Bar on Rue Ancienne in Trier Quartier de l’Observatoire.
“Following some field investigation, it became apparent that this locale serves as the stronghold for Bureau 8. However, Loki appears to have set his sights on me. I was assaulted in the evening and narrowly escaped becoming his marionette. My escape, though, exposed my true identity to him.
“As I write this letter, I find myself in the safe house I had previously prepared. Nevertheless, I can’t be certain whether I have eluded Loki’s pursuit.
“I strongly suspect there’s something amiss with him. If left unchecked, he could pose a grave threat to the Research Society in the days ahead.
“I hope to receive your assistance.”
Lumian felt no shame in laying out his intentions plainly.
His plan was to make himself the bait that would draw Loki out of hiding, while Hela, with her ability to harness Concealment, would lurk in the shadows, ready to deliver the decisive blow to the leader of April Fool’s.
Perhaps only Hela, with her superior Sequence and mastery of Concealment, had a chance of evading detection and discovering the true body of their bizarre and unkillable adversary.
After folding the letter, Lumian swiftly arranged the altar and summoned the pure silver skull adorned with pale-white flames in its eye sockets.
…
Franca stealthily made her way back to Apartment 601 at 3 Rue des Blouses Blanches. She used her persuasive abilities to convince Jenna to temporarily vacate the premises for a couple of days.
Only after Jenna repeatedly confirmed that she would be of no assistance did she reluctantly give up her facade of bravery, departing amidst a string of curses.
As she applied makeup, she couldn’t help but curse fate’s mother.
Such skills were fundamental for an apprentice actress.
With a simple disguise in place, Franca seamlessly shifted between invisibility and concealment within the shadows, weaving her way through the market district.
She made a concerted effort to thwart any attempts at divination and employed anti-tracking techniques learned from Lumian.
Finally, she returned to Rue des Blouses Blanches and entered Building 6.
This was the safe house she had prepared for herself, conveniently overlooking her original residence.
Phew… Franca, having completed all the procedures, heaved a sigh of relief and lay down in the Loen-style recliner.
Simultaneously, she muttered to herself, I’ve only known Ciel for less than three months. Why does it feel like I’ve experienced more in this time than in the past year…
Is this guy some sort of jinx reincarnate?
…
In the secure confines of the safe house on Rue des Blouses Blanches, Lumian patiently waited for nearly fifteen minutes. Then, from the abrupt darkness, the pure silver skull’s head emerged, clutching a simple folded letter in its skeletal teeth.
“Thank you,” Lumian replied habitually, accepting the letter.
If Hela was unwilling to engage with a suspected member of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society, Lumian had no choice but to abandon his current plan and swiftly locate Franca. He would guide her through spirit world traversal to distant locales like the hill district, Quartier éraste, and other suburbs before returning.
He felt that it was the only way to evade Loki’s pursuit or lock-on. Moving openly was out of the question unless he shifted to an entirely different area.
Lumian unfolded the paper and discovered that Hela’s response was succinct: “Got it.”
A wry smile curled at the corners of Lumian’s mouth as he conjured crimson flames from his hand, igniting the reply.
Without delay, he restored the table’s surface to its ordinary state and reverted to his original appearance, aided by the Lie earring.
Next, Lumian extinguished the carbide lamp and reclined on the bed, closing his eyes and feigning slumber.
As minutes slipped away, night settled in, and Rue des Blouses Blanches descended into stillness.
The crimson moonlight filtered through heavy curtains, casting a subdued, eerie glow within the room.
After an indeterminate span of time, a small, grayish-black figure emerged from a concealed crevice in the corner—a nondescript rat.
Soundlessly and stealthily, the rat approached the table, ascending its surface. It moved about with deliberate intent, as if surveying its territory for any signs of intrusion.
After a brief inspection, it halted its actions and retreated into the shadowy corners untouched by the dim moonlight. Its body now faced the bed.
The rat fixated its gaze upon Lumian with an unnervingly human-like intensity.
Nearly ten minutes passed, and faint, nearly imperceptible footsteps echoed from the corridor outside the apartment.
Tap, tap, tap. The footsteps drew nearer.
Abruptly, the footsteps vanished as if they had never been or had come to a standstill at some unseen juncture.
The rat retreated from the shadowy realm untouched by the crimson moonlight, traversing the table and vanishing through the same crevice it had emerged from.
With swiftness, it disappeared, leaving the room in an even deeper silence, broken only by the faint sound of Lumian’s slow, rhythmic breathing.
Lumian didn’t open his eyes. His body was very relaxed, as if he had truly fallen asleep.
…
6 Rue des Blouses Blanches, in an apartment.
Franca reclined in the recliner, swaying back and forth with the chair.
Troubled, she pondered what to do next. With such a bizarre and terrifying foe lurking in the shadows, the constant sense of being watched had left her restless, and she couldn’t find solace whether sitting or standing.
I need to resolve this quickly. One can be a thief for a thousand days, but how can you guard against a thief for a thousand days? One misstep, and it’s all over…
Why don’t I abandon the mission and relocate? Or I can go all out and ask Madam Judgment for help to apprehend Loki under the pretext that the mission will likely fail. It’s feasible, but I’ll shoulder a debt that I won’t be able to repay until I become a demigod. Even if Ciel takes half of it, it’ll be a heavy burden…
We can also ask Madam Hela to convene an emergency gathering and accuse Loki and the others of causing Muggle’s death on the spot. We can request that we find reliable members to interrogate each other and see which side is lying. Uh, we can’t be entirely sure if there’s really something wrong with Loki and the others, but it’s certain that I colluded with an outsider and lured in a spy…
The more Franca thought about it, the more frustrated she became. She used proverbs from her homeland and didn’t deliberately change it.
Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of danger gripped her, and simultaneously, an eerie chill crawled up her spine.
Her body stiffened, and a figure reflected in her lake-like eyes.
Clad in a short black formal suit typical of clerks, with neatly combed brown hair, a face bearing Southern Continent heritage, and dull green eyes…
Wraith! The word flashed through her mind as she recognized the nature of the impending attack.
Franca’s thoughts became hazy, and her right hand instinctively rose, as if resisting an unseen force.
She channeled the spirituality within her Soul Body, preparing to unleash the black flames of a Demoness.
This ability targeted a Spirit Body and was capable of incinerating Wraiths. Demonesses possessed a heightened resistance to such flames compared to other pathways, and they could even use injuries to escape or severely harm their adversaries.
At that moment, Franca heard a magnetic voice.
“It’s futile. Surrender.”
The sound pierced Franca’s mind like sharp arrows, interrupting her attempt to condense the black flames.
As soon as the voice faded away, her mind seemed to be shrouded in a thick fog, and a thick frosted glass appeared in front of her.
The voice continued, “I didn’t use my full strength in the evening to test the waters. The person impersonating Muggle with a high-level existence sealed in him must possess some special abilities. If I hadn’t done my best to gather information, I might have been the one to die.
“After the probe, things got even more interesting. I went to his place just now and felt that it wasn’t safe enough. Therefore, I planned to turn you into my marionette and launch a surprise attack.
“Heh heh, do you think you can escape my grasp? There’s something special about us. As long as we’re within a kilometer of each other, I can use the power of a great existence to sense your location.
“I’ve long yearned for a Demoness to be my marionette. It’ll definitely taste good…”
Franca’s Spirit Body was repeatedly affected by the sound, interrupting her efforts to activate Mirror Substitution and condense black flames in advance. Her thoughts became increasingly sluggish, and her joints felt as if they were filled with glue.
Can… Loki… sense… my location?
What’s… so special… Why… can he…
Before Franca could piece together any answers or formulate a complete response, the magnetic voice, now with a sinister smile, continued, “I can’t waste any more time. I must accelerate to avoid unforeseen complications.”
At this point, the voice turned respectful and recited in Franca’s unusually familiar language, “The Immortal Lord of Heaven and Earth for Blessings;
“The Sky Lord of Heaven and Earth for Blessings…”
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