Chapter 665 - 665 Clues
665 Clues
If the Dream Festival has a fixed date, as I suspect, it should be one of the coming days or span a few days…
Recently, I came to Hisoka’s house every night to sleep, trying not to miss the Dream Festival. I also need to figure out the basic patterns of the special dream as much as possible before it begins. For example, how to leave the dream normally without entering the primitive forest…
Lumian closed the golden pocket watch and slipped it into the breast pocket of his shirt, concealed by his vest.
He didn’t continue sleeping there. Instead, he chose to descend the stairs and enter the streets of Tizamo. First, Ludwig would have his second supper in twenty minutes. According to their agreement, if Lumian didn’t return in time, Ludwig would come over and forcefully wake him up. Second, he had to update Madam Magician on his discoveries.
Just as Lumian stepped out of Hisoka’s house, a voice suddenly sounded from behind.
“What exactly are you investigating?”
In a dark corner where the crimson moonlight couldn’t reach, Camus Castiya emerged, dressed in a white shirt and an unbuttoned yellow vest. His disheveled hair collapsed from staying up too late.
At some point, the young leader of the Port Pylos patrol team’s combat team had been waiting here.
Lumian wasn’t surprised at all, as if he had sensed Camus’ presence. He evaded the question and said, “Many scenes display different states during the day and at night.”
“Indeed.” Camus had dealt with numerous mystical incidents that matched this description. The simplest and most common situation was that certain haunted houses appeared normal under the sunlight.
As Lumian walked towards the Brieu Motel, he teased Camus with a smile, “Have you been awake the entire time, squatting in the shadows outside the motel, observing my movements?
“That’s tough. Careful not to suddenly drop dead.”
If Camus hadn’t known that Louis Berry had a close relationship with the Church of The Fool and didn’t mind him tagging along, he would have thought Lumian’s teasing was a warning.
Do you think I want that? Camus laughed self-deprecatingly.
“I’ll be in charge of watching tonight. It’s Maslow or Rhea’s turn tomorrow.”
Lumian didn’t engage in further conversation. As if lost in thought, he made his way back to the Brieu Motel.
Camus wanted to inquire further, but he dared not.
He then saw the adventurer stop at the motel’s entrance, his back toward Camus. Lumian said calmly, “Before Twanaku died, he mentioned a term—Dream Festival.
“I’ve just discovered some traces in his house and confirmed that there’s a special dream happening in Tizamo Town.
“Gather all the folklore related to dreams in this area and bring it to me as soon as possible.”
“Uh…” Camus was at a loss at first, but then his mind cleared, as if a bucket of ice-cold water had been poured over him on a scorching summer day.
As expected, there’s more to the Twanaku incident. There’s indeed a huge problem lurking here! Camus wasn’t too surprised, but his heart pounded.
Instinctively, he replied, “Okay.”
After agreeing, Camus realized that he had unknowingly followed Lumian’s instructions, as if the other man were the captain of a patrol team.
After watching Lumian enter the Brieu Motel, Camus briefly analyzed his reaction.
He felt that this situation stemmed from both the intimidation brought about by Lumian’s strength and the accumulated credibility and reliability of his previous deeds.
I have to send a telegram back to Port Pylos to request reinforcements…
In addition, I need to familiarize myself with Tizamo as soon as possible and strive to move jurisdiction here within a few days…
After considering his next steps, Camus let out another sigh.
Ever since encountering Louis Berry, problems had never ceased erupting!
I initially came to Tizamo to monitor his actions and prevent any accidents. Why am I now investigating the Dream Festival?
…
Up in the suite on the second floor of the Brieu Motel, Lumian greeted Ludwig shuffling to the dining table, having just woken up. He then returned to the master bedroom.
Before pondering his letter to Madam Magician, Lumian noticed a folded square of paper on the desk.
A reply after midnight—so typical of Madam Magician, he thought with an inward chuckle. He picked up the letter and conjured a blazing white fireball above his head for light, as Tizamo lacked gas lighting.
Under the fireball’s incandescent glow, Lumian unfolded and read the letter:
“I’ve completed my astromancy and received a revelation about the rest of the Abscessed Hand’s body.
“The remaining body is divided into three parts. One part is highly suspected to be located in the Underworld, and the other two parts have hints closely related to Lenburg’s capital, Azshara, but they’re not actually there. This reminds me of the City of Exiles, Morora, which seals 0-01. It has a similar situation, inside Lenburg, yet not truly being in Lenburg.
“My interpretation is that the two missing body parts of the Abscessed Hand are hidden away in the City of Exiles, Morora.
“Don’t you find it too coincidental?
“No, it’s not a coincidence at all. My astromancy results show that nearly three months ago, one of the two body parts was still located in the tombs of the Paz Kingdom in the Southern Continent, and the other part was related to some folklore in the south-central region.
“Get my drift?”
Wh— Almost three months ago… As a Conspirer, Lumian grasped Madam Magician’s implication.
Accepting the information about the most terrifying Sealed Artifact 0-01, and masquerading as Ludwig’s godfather, was akin to accepting an olive branch offered from the Church of Knowledge. Lumian had promised to pay a certain price for this knowledge…
It seemed the Church of Knowledge then dispatched high-ranking individuals to gather the two remaining body parts of the Abscessed Hand and hide them away in the City of Exiles, Morora.
What does this mean? It is clearly forcing me to journey to Morora, unless I choose to abandon my hopes of advancing to Sequence 4 and achieving the state of demi-godhood.
Heh heh, my agreement with the Abscessed Hand stated that until I found its full body, I would never be able to obtain true godhood. This blocks any idea of trying to become a demigod without consuming potions by relying on boons instead…
Thankfully, Lumian wasn’t resistant to the idea of visiting the City of Exiles, Morora, before becoming a demigod. At that moment, he didn’t feel stifled or vexed by this necessity. Instead, he felt it would actually save him a lot of trouble.
After some thought, he continued reading the rest of the letter:
“My astromancy results also tell me that once the Abscessed Hand’s full body is gathered and reunited, something extremely dangerous will happen. It’s best to complete this reunion step while you’re in the City of Exiles, and use the existence of 0-01 to try to counteract this incoming risk.
“In other words, you need to find and retrieve the body part located in the Underworld first.
“Yes, you should have an opportunity to enter the Underworld itself within the next three months. Remember to seize this opportunity when it arises. Don’t ask me what opportunity it is exactly—I don’t know the specifics either.”
Opportunity to enter the Underworld within the next three months… Lumian repeated this crucial piece of information to himself.
Amidst his elation, the words struck Lumian as peculiar. “Entering the Underworld” and “going to hell” were two distinct phrases that conveyed the same meaning. In this world, barring a small number of individuals, no one could readily accept the phrase “you have a chance to go to hell within three months.” It was worth noting that many people would curse at each other, saying, “I wish you a swift descent into hell.”
For the moment, Lumian didn’t have time to ponder the opportunity to enter the Underworld. He burned Madam Magician’s reply and jotted down his gains for the night and his guesses about the Dream Festival. He planned to send it to the Major Arcana card holder at noon the following day.
Although he couldn’t shake the feeling that Madam Magician’s “schedule” bore a resemblance to Franca’s, he wasn’t sure if it was convenient to send a letter at that time.
…
Northern Continent, Trier.
Winter sunlight poured through the glass, filling the living room with warmth that chased away the chill.
Franca lounged in the recliner, basking in the cozy glow with half-lidded eyes.
Suddenly, she sensed something and sat upright, pulling her legs in.
In the shadowy corner, a human skull made of pure glowing silver emerged. Pale white flames flickered in its vacant sockets.
Madame Hela’s messenger… Why is she contacting me? Franca watched, puzzled, as the skull’s jaws unhinged, releasing a single page that drifted towards her.
She snatched the letter and scanned it quickly.
“007 hasn’t heard from you in four days. He wants to confirm you’re okay.”
Four days without checking the group… A dry chuckle escaped her lips.
What does this mean?
Early to bed and late to rise keeps the king fit to rule his realm! No more morning courts!
In the early morning hours, Franca manned the radio transceiver while Jenna roamed outside, seizing her opportunity to act as a Witch.
Tap tap tap! Her first telegram in days.
“Shurima! Your emperor has returned!”
Before long, 007’s telegram was tapped out by the analyzer-
powered mechanical typewriter.
“Hidden Blade, where have you been?”
Ahem. Franca cleared her throat.
“Late nights breed ill health. Have you no loved ones?”
“Don’t bring up such sad topics…”
“Hidden Blade, have you mastered the assassination arts—
sundering heart and soul?”
“…”
Protests arose from the other members.
At length, 007’s message arrived.
“I have the intel on the last incident. Let’s meet to discuss.
“The higher-ups also approved the item swap for the story you proposed.”
Franca blinked, startled.
“How long did that take? I’d forgotten all about it…”
After all, understanding that humanoid Sealed Artifact’s tale was Lumian’s curiosity, not hers.
007’s resigned telegram:
“Bureaucracy inertia. Unavoidable for any large, established organization.”
“Tell me about it!” Another member, Moon King’s amused agreement clattered out. “Whether public or secret, they’re all bound by red tape.”
After arranging to meet 007 that night with the Moran Avigny intel and initial assassination plan, Franca rose with a stretch.
She jotted down the two tasks before performing a ritual to summon Lumian’s messenger, Penitent Baynfel.
…
Southern Continent, Tizamo Town.
Lumian was just about to head to Hisoka’s house for a nap when his messenger materialized from the shadows, delivering a letter.
After taking the note, Lumian noticed Penitent Baynfel didn’t immediately depart back to the spirit world as usual. Instead, he lingered, surveying their surroundings with a measured gaze.