144 Conditions

Fake? Lumians right eyebrow twitched, as if fate was mercilessly mocking Charlie.

Charlie had forsaken his fragile principles and bedded Madame Alice for days, only to get embroiled in a life-threatening lawsuit and lose his job as an apprentice attendantall for a counterfeit diamond necklace?

For some reason, Lumian felt a sudden urge to defy fate.

This wasnt his problem, but he couldnt shake the feeling.

To hell with this inevitable destiny!

You mock me, so Ill mock and provoke you in return!

In that moment, Lumian began to grasp another aspect of the Provokers acting principles, albeit crudely and imprecisely.

He eyed Charlie and asked thoughtfully, Do you think Madam Alice lied to you, or did the pawnshop see your desperate situation, knowing you couldnt determine the necklaces authenticity, and use it as an excuse to offer the lowest possible price?

I-I dont know. Charlie was at a loss and in pain.

After a pause, he added with difficulty, I suspect its Madame Alice. Look, there are so many people here pawning their items. Appraisers handle dozens or hundreds of items every day, most of them valuable. They cant just lie to me, right?

H-how could she...

Charlie couldnt go on.

Cant pawnshops deceive everyone equally? Lowballing the offer as much as possible, especially for the pricey items? Lumian scoffed.

Why not?

Many wealthy people dont amass fortunes through kindness and hard work. If they can trick you with a fake, why give you the real deal?

Maybe Madame Alice is one of those people. She might not even be that rich. She relied on staying at the Hotel du Cygne Blanc to dupe a gullible lad like you.

Lumian didnt distrust every rich person. Many had made their fortunes through talent, hard work, and opportunitylike Aurore.

Stung by Lumians words, Charlies face twisted with anger.

He muttered to himself bitterly, Thats right. During this time, Madame Alice hasnt even treated me to a big meal. She only calls me to her room at seven or eight at night for... service.

Youre so naive. Are you really from Reem? Lumian couldnt help but facepalm.

He stood up and said, Get that necklace back. Lets try another pawnshop. What if its real?

Charlie was taken aback.

Alright, alright!

Lumian urged him, Be vigilant. We cant let them switch the necklace.

Yes. Charlie tried his best to rally. Ive been studying that necklace daily recently and memorized every detail!

After retrieving the diamond necklace, Lumian accompanied Charlie to two other pawnshops in Quartier de lObservatoire.

The appraisal results were the same as before. The necklace was fake and worth only 11 to 15 verl dor.

Charlies frustration mounted, and he crumbled.

Lumian glanced at him and consoled, At least you can get a dozen verl dor. Itll last you more than a week. With the money, you can buy drinks for waiters at cafes on Rue des Blouses Blanches and ask them to help you find a new job.

Including rent, Charlie spent about 1 verl dor a day. If he skipped the underground bar, his expenses would be even less.

Yeah... Charlie sighed.

He was utterly disappointed. But after accepting reality, he found a glimmer of hope.

Lumian hesitated before suggesting, We cant dismiss other possibilities. For instance, the pawnshops around here might have secret ways of communicating. They could specifically target people like youthose who dont dress well and pawn valuable items without proper documentation. How about taking the necklace to a specialized jewelry shop for appraisal?

Wed have to pay a fee. Charlies face clouded with worry.

If the appraisal confirmed its authenticity, that would be great. But if it turned out to be fake, his already meager assets would be reduced by a third or even half.

Lumian sighed and offered, Hand me the diamond necklace, and Ill find a friend to appraise it for youone who wont charge.

Youve still got some cash to get you through the day, right?

I have 2.6 verl dor left. With hope in his eyes, Charlie handed the diamond necklace to Lumian.

As Lumian pocketed the necklace, he grinned and asked, Are you not worried that the appraisal might prove it genuine, but Ill return a fake one to you and claim theres no issue with the pawnshops assessment?

... Charlies face tensed once more.

After a moment, he exhaled and admitted, I trust you. Besides, Ive already written it off as a fake.

Lumian waved goodbye to Charlie and strode toward Place du Purgatoire.

Near the catacombs, Osta Trul occupied his customary seat facing the bonfire, clad in a hooded black robe.

Lumian approached and asked with a hint of amusement, Dont you ever change areas?

Osta chuckled and replied, My divination and interpretation skills are fairly accurate. Many people have introduced their friends. If I switch locations, wouldnt I lose my clientele? Theyre all verl dor!

What do you mean by clientele? Theyre clearly a bunch of fools, Lumian half-jokingly and mockingly remarked.

Osta didnt dare to argue.

Lumian inquired, I need to discuss something with Mr. K. How can I reach him?

So hes not here for me... Osta sighed in relief and quickly answered, Anyone who has attended the gathering can go straight to Psychics headquarters, located in the building where our gathering took place. At 19 Rue Scheer, knock on Room 103 with three long, two short, and one long beats. Someone will take you to see Mr. K.

If you dont want to go in person, you can send a letter. Address it to Room 103, 19 Rue Scheer, Avenue du Boulevard. The recipient is Guillaume Pierre.

What a fake name... The knocking rhythm differs from the gatherings... Mr. K never told me this. Did he think Osta would inform me? Lumian nodded, bid Osta farewell, and returned above ground.

At the catacombs entrance, he spotted a group of visitors carrying lit white candles, following the administrator through the naturally formed arch and into the Death Empire.

Withdrawing his gaze, Lumian took a public carriage to 19 Rue Scheer on Avenue du Boulevard.

He lowered his cap and knocked on Room 103.

The dark-red wooden door creaked open, revealing a handsome young man with shoulder-length brown hair, resembling an artist.

The lad scrutinized Lumian with his dark brown eyes for a couple of seconds.

Who are you looking for?

Im Ciel. I need to speak with Mr. K, Lumian replied bluntly.

The young man cocked his head slightly, as if listening for a faint sound.

Soon, he instructed Lumian, Follow me.

The lad led him to a vintage-styled room and unveiled a secret door hidden within the dressing area.

A staircase descended underground, its walls on either side adorned with gas lamps encased in black grids.

Lumian entered the basement and traversed a short corridor before reaching a rather barren chamber.

He suspected other exits were present, some possibly connecting to areas in Underground Trier.

At that moment, Mr. K lounged in a red armchair, his face concealed by the shadow of his large hood.

The gatherings organizer studied Lumian wordlessly, exuding an unnerving air of intimidation.

Lumian pressed down on his cap and smiled.

Good morning, Mr. K. I require your assistance.

The price Ill have to pay is your call.

Mr. K remained silent for a few seconds before inquiring in a deep, raspy tone, Does the Poison Spur Mob know you killed Margot?

As expected... Lumian wasnt surprised that Mr. K had information on him.

When he attended the gathering, he deliberately wrapped his face in bandages to recreate his appearance when he killed Margot. He wanted Mr. K to be aware of it and display his worth and impulsive nature.

This could also help earn Mr. Ks trust.

Lumian shook his head.

Its another problem...

Lumian recounted his encounter with Charlie and how he had helped him escape his predicament, only to be despised by Susanna Mattise and nearly killed by that peculiar creature. Fortunately, the official Beyonders had arrived in time. He didnt lie, but he didnt share too many details either.

This aligned with the information he sought at the gathering.

Mr. K listened intently and asked in a low voice, You want divine protection?

Divine protection? Arent you overestimating yourself? Just protection! Lumian thought silently and nodded solemnly.

Yes.

Mr. K rasped, That creature is likely a soul-type being, akin to an evil spirit. Normally, it wouldnt affect you as long as you leave the market district. However, the official Beyonders have clearly taken an interest in this matter. If you move now, you might arouse suspicion. Moreover, if Susanna Mattise remembers or even marks you, you could be attacked anywhere. Many abilities can surpass distance limitations. Theres no need for the creature to truly leave its territory.

No wonder the two ladies didnt suggest I leave... Lumian nodded thoughtfully.

What should I do then?

Mr. K spoke deliberately, I can offer some protection, but you need to do something for me.

What is it? Lumian inquired eagerly.

Mr. K clasped his hands together and said, Join any gang in the market district and become a leader.

So the organization behind Mr. K wants to control the market district indirectly? Lumian agreed without hesitation, No problem!

Mr. K nodded slowly and held his left index finger with his right hand.

Then, he yanked the finger off, exposing a bloody wound and ghostly white bones.

Lumian winced at the sight.

Surprisingly, no blood flowed from Mr. Ks wound or finger. Instead, it hovered at the edge, twisting and contracting as it gradually healed.

Take this with you. It can help you in critical moments. Mr. K tossed the severed finger to Lumian.

The flesh on his fingerless left hand writhed violently, as though a new digit was about to sprout.