637 Unexpected Information
Andariel, one of the three Devil families… Lumian recognized the last name from Madam Magician and asked with a warm smile, “What brings you to Port Pylos?”
If it weren’t for the lineage running in Devil families for generations, with descendants naturally inclined towards the Criminal pathway, and the other option of the Prisoner pathway seemingly trouble-free, Bram Andariel couldn’t shake the suspicion that the man before him carried the last name Nois or Beria. Why did he exude more of a Devil vibe than Bram himself?
Struggling, he lifted his right hand, wiping his swollen and cracked face, cleaning up the blood and flinging it to the ground.
With the task completed, Bram responded, “Firstly, it’s to gather information about Matani for the family. Secondly, it’s to find an opportunity to act as a Serial Killer. Do you know what acting is?”
He cooperated with Lumian by speaking in Intisian.
Lumian nonchalantly stood before Bram, who was curled up on the ground, and remarked with a smile,
“Your acting is subpar. You don’t seem to be a criminal with a high IQ.
“Why would the Andariel family gather information about Matani?”
Bram had no intention of concealing the truth for the family.
“We’re cooperating with the Rose School of Thought. They want information on this place.”
The Rose School of Thought setting its sights on Matani? That’s right. Matani, seemingly detached from any Northern Continent nation, holds ties to the Feynapotter Kingdom, but their influence is lacking. With Admiral Querarill’s sway, even if the Rose School of Thought and the Andariel family dispatch only a handful of agents, resisting may prove challenging… Lumian perceived the stark contrast between the Southern and Northern Continents.
Whether in Trier, the Feynapotter Kingdom, or the maritime colonies, Lumian encountered criminal acts and mystical disasters driven by the pursuit of strength and faith. Encroachments on factions or cities were rare, but West Balam presented a different scenario on his first day.
If maritime disorder resulted from chaos, the Southern Continent teemed with factional conflicts, overt or covert, causing widespread chaos.
Lumian, observing Bram’s wound clotting, questioned further, “What intel does the Rose School of Thought seek?”
Bram, reflecting, responded, “They want all kinds of information—cathedral locations, military camp details, patrol team compositions, port throughput, daily prices, and the locals’ lives.”
Are they preparing to rule this place in the future? Lumian inquired, puzzled.
“To whom will you hand over the information you gathered? Where?”
“It will be written and placed in the study of an empty house at 17 Aleg Street. My uncle, Devajo Andariel, will be responsible for retrieving it. We don’t usually contact each other, and I don’t know where he lives or under what identity,” Bram explained in detail. “After becoming a Devil, his special ability is to completely skin humans and perform complicated processes to create Beyonder items with usage or time limitations. No matter who it is, as long as he wears the human skin as clothes, he can transform into the other person and complete the corresponding disguise.”
As Bram spoke, he wiped the blood off his body and flung it to the ground, as if obsessed with cleanliness.
This was mentioned in Devilology… Lumian nodded thoughtfully.
He pondered for a moment and asked, “Are there any traces of other Devils in Matani?”
Perhaps Bram and his uncle weren’t the only ones sent by the Rose School of Thought to gather information.
Bram shook his head.
“Not recently.
“However, during my investigation, I stumbled upon a string of serial murders around Port Pylos about four years back.
“The victims lay dissected, the scene steeped in blood and marked by the aftermath of a fierce battle. Moreover, the seven casualties were no ordinary individuals; they were Beyonders, ranging from Sequence 7 to Sequence 8.”
Listening intently, Lumian felt a surge of intrigue.
As per Franca’s explanation, the name “Hisoka” stemmed from a literary work hailing from the original world of transmigrators like themselves. One of the character’s defining traits was an insatiable appetite for combat and the thrill of extinguishing formidable adversaries, reveling in the ecstasy and carnage of claiming lives. If the target was sufficiently potent, he’d patiently await their growth, perhaps even offer a nudge.
Hisoka, a key member in April Fool’s, adopted this moniker as his code name, driven by an unmistakable urge for self-expression, mirroring this characteristic.
Hisoka is a Beyonder of the Devil pathway. Moreover, his targets are Beyonders while he was at the Serial Killer stage. Unlike other Serial Killers, he doesn’t prey on the weak or ordinary people. If he had been a Serial Killer four years ago, he would likely be at least a Sequence 6 by now. There’s a strong chance he’s a Sequence 5… Yes, he’s concealed his identity very effectively. No one in the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society knows his true pathway… Lumian listened attentively to Bram’s account without interruption. He eagerly pondered the possibility that Hisoka was a Devil or even a Desire Apostle in his mind.
The curled-up Bram glanced up at him, propping his bloody palm on the ground, and straightening his body slightly.
“This seems like the work of a Serial Killer. Moreover, he’s exceedingly confident in his strength and intellect, daring to target Beyonders. However, I noticed some discrepancies.”
“What discrepancies?” Lumian concealed his joy behind a gentle smile.
Bram shifted his palm to support himself.
“Serial Killers’ victims often exhibit degraded behaviors. For instance, those I’ve selected typically share a common trait: they enjoy inflicting verbal harm and curses upon others for extended periods. Thus, I’d remove their lips and preserve them. However, the seven slain Beyonders had varying identities, backgrounds, and behaviors, lacking the typical degeneracy.”
“Perhaps he’s merely a Beyonder with a fascination for serial killing, not necessarily acting out the Devil pathway,”
Lumian mused, masking his interest with a teasing tone. He added playfully, “Were you subjected to constant verbal violence as a child?”
And the Coldblooded and Serial Killer potions amplified corresponding resentments and psychological traumas?
Bram fell silent, his body gradually stretching out, no longer curled up.
Only then did Lumian steer the conversation back to the serial murder case from four years ago.
“Do you have detailed information about the seven Beyonders who were killed?
“Did you identify any suspects during the initial investigation?”
Bram shook his head slowly.
“I only had read the summary provided by the patrol team, not the full investigation files.
“Most of the patrol team members were seasoned Beyonders who had encountered Mutants and Devils before. Their judgment should be reliable.”
Patrol team… Lumian grinned at Bram and remarked, “Is there any other information you deem crucial to share with me? If not, let’s proceed.”
“Yes, of course.” Bram straightened his back abruptly.
In the next moment, he spat out foul words in a language Lumian had never heard before.
Devil Language!
As the Devil words reverberated, the blood, bloodstains, and bloody handprints that Bram had left on the ground were enveloped in a faint light.
A mystical connection seemed to form between them, linking them based on their location, creating sinister symbols and patterns.
In the room’s far cupboard, glass bottles filled with lips and colorless liquid trembled suddenly, as if rocked by an earthquake.
This marked the initiation of a ritual to summon the projection of an Abyssal Devil!
Serial Killers executed serial murders not solely for the thrill but also to appease the Abyssal Devils. Once the killing spree concluded, Serial Killers could proceed to the final step of the ritual, summoning the projection of the corresponding Abyssal Devil. This granted them the assistance needed to fulfill their desires.
Though Bram’s string of murders wasn’t entirely finished and fell short by a few targets, he had met the minimum threshold. It satisfied the basic quantitative requirements, allowing him to expedite the ritual.
Understandably, this shortcut wouldn’t yield the same effectiveness as the standard procedure. Yet, in the face of urgency and danger, Bram paid little heed.
He cooperated willingly, divulging information to divert the enemy’s focus from his subtle actions. For instance, allowing blood to drip onto the ground in a specific pattern and pressing his blood-stained palm in a particular location. These marks replaced conspicuous evil and degenerate symbols with subtler, blood-stained alternatives.
With the preparations complete, Bram could utilize the Devil Language’s “activate” to trigger the ritual, pleasing a high-level Devil and summoning its projection to confront the enemy!
Lumian silently observed Bram Andariel’s “handiwork,” feeling the room steeped in malevolence and tainted by corruption.
He raised his right hand, snapping his fingers.
Bram, coldly observing him while anticipating the ritual’s protection, suddenly heard a rumbling emanate from within his body.
In confusion, he lowered his head and scrutinized his form. Crimson flames erupted from within, inflicting the agony of violent waves tearing through his internal organs, bones, and flesh.
Darkness gripped Bram’s consciousness, accompanied by searing pain.
The last sight before losing consciousness: A black-haired young man with green eyes, sporting a golden straw hat, curved his lips, maintaining a warm smile. It was as though he watched a clown diligently tumble into a trap.
Rumble!
The ritual concluded prematurely. An explosion originating from Bram’s body tore him into multiple fragments.
Fire Infusion and Delayed Explosion!
As Lumian adorned the Fury of the Sea brooch and ruthlessly assailed Bram, he not only released pent-up emotions but also covertly infused flames into Bram’s body, triggering a Delayed Explosion.
This precaution aimed to avert any mishaps.
Moreover, there was no intention of granting forgiveness or negotiating a deal to spare Bram. Thus, there existed no psychological barrier to implanting a controlled time bomb within his body, ready to be activated.
Rumble!
Corpse fragments scattered across the room, some plastering the walls. Yet, this tumultuous event remained contained within the confines of the Bottle of Fiction.
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