Chapter 704 - 704 Fragment of Fate
704 Fragment of Fate
The reporters waiting outside the conference hall displayed no signs of impatience or dissatisfaction, despite the passing time. They were well accustomed to such situations.
At last, the heavy doors of the Rose Conference Hall opened, revealing the Minister of Industry, Moran Avigny. Dressed in a sharp formal suit, his dark-gray eyes and chiseled features stood out as he emerged alongside the leader of the Loen Kingdom’s delegation.
Snap! Snap! A flurry of loud camera flashes illuminated the scene, and Moran Avigny responded with a graceful wave to the reporters.
Lumian refrained from pushing his way to the front, choosing instead to observe Moran Avigny from a distance, hidden among the crowd.
Shielded by the camera, his azure eyes rapidly shifted to a silver-black hue.
Eye of Calamity!
In Lumian’s enhanced vision, a river of mercury materialized on Moran Avigny’s body, composed of ethereal water droplets. Each droplet was adorned with intricate, interconnected symbols.
As Moran Avigny delivered a concise speech announcing various industrial cooperation agreements between the Intis Republic and the Loen Kingdom, Lumian meticulously analyzed the Minister of Industry’s past, present, and future, uncovering the fragments of fate concealed within each mercurial droplet.
The more distant the past, the greater the ambiguity. Lumian concentrated on the events of the preceding two weeks.
He witnessed Moran Avigny residing in a government-provided villa, attending weekly gatherings at cafés to discuss matters of state, exemplifying Trier’s café politics.
Furthermore, Lumian observed Moran Avigny’s attendance at salons, balls, banquets, operas, concerts, theaters, and art exhibitions. The Minister indulged in polo, poker, hunting in the suburbs, and flirtations with courtesans. He leveraged his position to secure favors, such as appointing the husband of one of his lovers as the deputy general manager of the Intis Industrial Credit Bank’s Southern Continent branch—a coveted role known for its prestige, generous compensation, and influence. The sole drawback was the necessity of leaving Trier for the Southern Continent for two to three years, initially without the companionship of spouse and children.
These observations aligned perfectly with Lumian’s preconceived notions of Trier’s elite society.
Amidst the hazy fragments, two particular instances captured Lumian’s attention.
In one, Moran Avigny sat alone in his study, perusing a document. Abruptly, he jotted down a note and reached into a nearby mirror. His hand, seemingly incorporeal, passed through the glass surface, depositing the note within.
The other featured Moran Avigny’s fleeting encounter with an unfamiliar individual during a hunting excursion in the West Lognes Forest. What piqued Lumian’s interest was the thin, white fog enveloping this fragment, rendering it indistinct.
This peculiar obscurity differed from the typical vagueness of most fate fragments.
The first fragment confirmed Moran Avigny’s identity as a Mirror Person. Among the 22 paths of the divine, Demonesses proficient in mirror magic could not transmit information or objects through mirrors until attaining the rank of Sequence 4 demigods. If Moran Avigny were a demigod-level Demoness, his existence as a man would be impossible.
Lumian could only surmise two possibilities:
First, Mirror People possessed an innate mastery over mirrors, surpassing even Demonesses in the realm of mirror magic.
Second, Moran Avigny had originally been a Demoness at the demigod level who later consumed a higher Sequence Hunter potion, successfully transforming into a man. This implied that the Minister of Industry was at least a Sequence 3 Saint, if not an Angel.
Considering the intelligence gathered by Franca and the others, the information provided by 007, and the clearer fate fragments, Lumian concluded that Moran Avigny had never exhibited any Hunter-related traits. He was undoubtedly a Mirror Person, albeit an extraordinary one.
The second fate fragment intrigued Lumian due to its relative uniqueness. It might contain crucial information, but deciphering it eluded him for the moment.
Shifting his focus to Moran Avigny’s future, Lumian examined the myriad potential fate tributaries.
As anticipated, one tributary bore a faint black tinge.
This mercurial offshoot, like many others, “rehearsed” Moran Avigny’s interview and subsequent return to the Ministry of Industry in a private carriage. However, it diverged when, upon entering his office and sitting for a while, Moran Avigny willingly stepped into the full-body mirror near the coat rack and vanished.
Lumian’s foresight extended no further.
Based on his observations, Lumian deduced that if Moran Avigny ventured into the mirror world before noon, he would face a life-threatening calamity.
Yet, the probability of Moran Avigny taking such an action was minimal. Among the numerous fate tributaries, only one represented this possibility.
Certainly, if Lumian disregarded the risk of exposure, he could harness nearly half of his spirituality to manipulate Moran Avigny’s future, steering it towards that specific tributary. However, such an act would be futile.
Moran Avigny’s demise in the mirror world would merely prevent them from accessing his corpse and conducting the spirit channeling ritual.
The Demoness of Black likely possesses the ability to enter the mirror world as well. However, with her as the spirit channeler, obtaining the relevant information would prove impossible. Even if Franca has fully earned her trust, certain knowledge would remain undisclosed until she attains a specific Sequence… Lumian noticed Moran Avigny’s posture signaling the conclusion of the interview, and his bodyguards began navigating through the reporters. Consequently, Lumian ceased using the Eye of Calamity and captured a black-and-white photograph, maintaining his façade.
Subsequently, he gradually retreated from the throng of reporters and made his way to the public washroom. He stashed the camera within his Traveler’s Bag, donned Lie, and transformed back into Ciel Dubois. As a guest, he entered the annex restaurant of Champs-Élysées.
Franca awaited him there.
Following the waiter to his designated spot, Lumian noticed a man and a woman engaged in coffee.
The woman possessed black hair, brown eyes, and an alluring beauty. Her attire accentuated her slightly exaggerated aura. The man, by contrast, appeared ordinary, clad in a double-
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breasted flannel coat, wrinkled pants, buckled leather boots, and a top hat adorned with soft fur—the favored ensemble of Trier’s bankers and financiers in recent times.
Lumian noticed that the man and woman weren’t attracted by any aura of wealth. Instead, he recognized the beautiful woman with foreign features.
She, of course, had no knowledge of him. He had only glimpsed her photograph in Ghost Face.
She was Perle, a theater actress from Loen and a courtesan in Trier.
DuVar, the inventor of DuVar’s broth and proprietor of the esteemed restaurant, had once lavished a substantial sum on her. He had even attempted suicide because of her, albeit unsuccessfully.
At present, Perle and the middle-aged man, presumed to be a banker, had not yet begun their meal. They were simply savoring their coffee.
The middle-aged man picked up Perle’s empty coffee cup and gestured to the grounds, explaining something unknown to Lumian. The courtesan listened intently.
As he passed by, Lumian’s keen senses allowed him to briefly eavesdrop. He swiftly grasped that the middle-aged man, believed to be a banker, was immersed in the art of coffee ground divination.
This popular divination method in high society was more akin to a game.
“If the remaining coffee grounds after drinking form a circle, it signifies recent signs of love…”
Upon hearing the middle-aged man’s words, Lumian couldn’t help but silently critique: Are you going to suggest that you’ll be the love she’s about to encounter?
Any other woman, even aware of the man’s true intentions, would be secretly alarmed by divination results indicating traces of love. They might believe it to be fate’s guidance. The various patterns naturally formed by the residual coffee grounds were thought to hold corresponding revelations about one’s destiny, a notion widely accepted and impossible to manipulate.
However, given Perle’s experience as a seasoned courtesan and her bold demeanor, Lumian had cause to suspect that she had deliberately manipulated the coffee grounds into a circular formation through her drinking technique.
After walking a short distance, Lumian spotted Franca.
The Demoness of Pleasure was dressed as a lady today, perfectly suited for the occasion. Lumian almost failed to recognize her.
Naturally, Franca still refrained from wearing a dress, opting instead for a pantsuit.
Observing Franca’s elegantly styled hair, no longer in a ponytail, Lumian chuckled and remarked, “Jenna did your hair for you?”
“Indeed!” Franca responded, not with humiliated rage, but with a sense of smugness.
Before they could delve into their observations, a nearby waiter approached, presenting them with two identical menus.
Lowering her voice, Franca addressed Lumian in ancient Feysac, “The lunch set costs 7 verl d’or. If we order individually and indulge in some decent red wine, the bill for the two of us will amount to at least 50 verl d’or. That sum could easily feed your godson in the market district.”
Franca found the restaurant at Grand Champs-Élysées not only expensive but also intriguing.
Switching to Intisian, Franca inquired of the waiter, “Any recommendations?”
The waiter, who had been sneaking glances at Franca, responded eagerly, “Would you like to try the Fürth fish?
“In Trier, apart from certain private banquets, we are the sole establishment that serves Fürth fish.”
“What makes it so special?” Lumian asked, curiosity piqued.
Addressing Franca, the waiter explained, “Fürth fish appear semi-charred and can only be found in a specific section of Trier’s underground river. Legend has it that long ago, they were ordinary fish. One day, an individual named Fürth caught one and set up a frying pan by the underground river, intending to cook it. Midway through the process, the fish managed to escape the frying pan and return to the river. It survived and spawned numerous descendants, all bearing the semi-charred appearance.
“The skin of this fish is fragrantly browned and oily, yet the flesh within is exceptionally tender…”
Trier’s underground river… Half-burnt… Alive… Lumian extracted the keywords and suddenly speculated that this might be a consequence of the leakage of Fourth Epoch Trier’s Hunter powers.
Smiling at Franca, he proposed, “Shall we each have one?”
“Very well.” Franca had already been contemplating giving it a try.