Chapter 214 - 214 Encounter
214 Encounter
After cursing Termiboros, Lumian caught sight of Franca securing the cloth bag with war spoils and fastening it to her person.
A thought struck him, triggering a recollection of one of Scrooge’s abilities, and he reminded her, “Aren’t you worried those Scrooges will track us down using lost possessions?”
He had previously informed Franca about the Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons, mentioning that the sinister cult possessed a peculiar knack for detecting the whereabouts of their lost belongings.
In contrast to the perverted Hedsey, Rentas carried out his orders dutifully. If anything happened to him, he might possess something from Maipú Meyer to determine his location and the saboteur’s whereabouts.
Franca scoffed dismissively. “That ability surely has its limitations in terms of time and range. By the time the folks at Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons realize Rentas is missing, it will prove exceedingly arduous for them to track us down.
“Besides, with Charlie here, they could find us if they truly desired. Whether we take these items or not, Charlie is akin to Susanna Mattise’s lost possession—no, her lost lover.”
Charlie stood dazed, bewildered by the conversation between Ciel and “Red Boots.” It wasn’t until Franca mentioned his name that he grasped his “situation” somewhat. Sporting a bitter expression, he retorted, “We’re not lovers…”
Franca consoled Charlie, though her sincerity remained questionable. “Can’t be helped. She’s convinced of it on her own accord, and she’s strong enough.”
Persuaded by Franca’s argument, Lumian ceased dwelling on Scrooge’s abilities. He pulled out the ritual silver dagger and promptly tended to his wound.
Bending down, he scooped up Rentas’s lifeless body and carried it to the debris-blocked hole, shoving it into the pa.s.sage the Actor had previously dug.
Charlie watched in horror, marveling at Ciel’s skills as a ruthless mob leader who had struck fear into the Poison Spur Mob. His attention then shifted to Rentas’s attire—shirt, vest, pants, and boots.
They seem relatively new. If they are stripped and p.a.w.ned, I reckon they can fetch at least two verl d’or… Charlie’s mouth gapped, but he refrained from voicing his thoughts.
Franca nodded approvingly. “Good job. Cleaning up the scene and stalling the enemy’s detection.”
“I worry that Maipú Meyer will exercise caution. Once Rentas fails to return by midnight, he’ll lead his men here and stumble upon the corpse. Then, he might choose to abandon Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons and relocate with the remaining members of the Bliss Society. Maybe we don’t even have to wait until midnight. Susanna Mattise will undoubtedly prod him if she can find a way to contact him.”
Such a turn of events would thwart the forthcoming official Beyonders’ raid and leave behind latent dangers.
Franca added, “Fortunately, Susanna won’t be able to leave the altar in the next two days, and the altar itself can’t sprout legs and flee. At the very least, the official Beyonders can address Charlie’s predicament.”
“Not necessarily,” Lumian countered, “we shouldn’t make a.s.sumptions about the evil G.o.d altar using conventional logic. It’s akin to me never fathoming that a man could give birth.”
“Huh?” Charlie’s confusion escalated as he listened to Ciel and “Red Boots,” comprehending each word independently but failing to grasp their interconnected meaning.
Franca fell silent for two seconds before solemnly nodding.
“You’re right. The true form of the altar is like a ma.s.sive tree stump. It might possess life. When the time comes, it can uproot itself and transform into a treant, making its escape with Susanna.”
With a clap of her hands, Franca exclaimed, “Exactly! How can it be called a tree spirit without a tree?”
Lumian sensed that Franca’s conjecture could be close to the truth.
He recollected wearing the Mystery Prying Gla.s.ses at Auberge du Coq Doré, where he had witnessed an extensive underground network of brownish-green roots stretching in all directions.
Emerging from the hole, he retrieved the carbide lamp and the enemy’s lantern. He scrutinized the structure of the tunnel’s ceiling and the surrounding rock walls. Every now and then, he extended his palm, gently patted and knocked against them.
Confused by Lumian’s actions, Franca, eager to leave Underground Trier as soon as possible, asked, “What are you doing?”
Calmly, Lumian replied, “I’m searching for a suitable spot to place a bundle of explosives and bury the corpse completely. We mustn’t make too much noise to avoid alerting Susanna, who’s deep underground, and Maipú Meyer, who’s in Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons on the surface.”
Simultaneously, he had to ensure that the ground wouldn’t collapse, as it could endanger the buildings above.
Clearly, the munic.i.p.al workers had diligently reinforced these areas when connecting the underground quarries, sewers, and various tunnels. Regular repairs were carried out, and minor cave-ins posed no threat to the surface’s safety or its own integrity.
Using his Hunter powers, Lumian soon identified a depression on the side of the hole and placed a bundle of detonators there.
“Unfortunately, we lack the proper tools and materials. Otherwise, we could set up a trigger for the explosives under the corpse. When Maipú Meyer arrives and tries to lift the body in his agitation, it would go boom,” Lumian said with regret, squatting down.
Since consuming the first potion, he hadn’t had the opportunity to execute a Hunter’s bomb trap and showcase his explosive finesse.
Charlie’s heart raced as he listened, confirming Ciel’s reputation as the most renowned mob leader of recent times.
“Indeed, a true Hunter,” Franca exclaimed, filled with admiration.
Lumian then took out a match, igniting the fuse.
He stood up and began walking toward Franca and Charlie at a steady pace. Pa.s.sing by the pile of gravel, he tossed the lantern into the tunnel.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Charlie hurriedly warned Lumian as he noticed the fuse nearing its end.
His calf muscles tensed, preparing to leap behind the rock wall to avoid the impending explosion.
Dressed in a simple formal top and cargo pants, Lumian had only covered a distance of seven to eight meters when the detonator erupted behind him.
The tunnel trembled slightly, and the stone wall beside the hole collapsed, burying most of the already unstable opening.
Flames ignited, and gravel scattered, but they didn’t reach Lumian’s back. They only affected the area two to three meters away from him and in a different direction within the tunnel.
Lumian didn’t turn around or evade. He approached Franca, who wore a smile, and Charlie, who stood there dumbfounded.
Franca gave him a thumbs-up and clicked her tongue. “Let’s go.”
With that, she swiftly turned and headed towards the exit of Underground Trier, the same path they had used to enter.
Black flames silently flickered behind her, igniting the blood on the ground, filling the air with its scent, and engulfing the remnants of red and white.
Charlie’s eyes widened, as if he had stepped into a surreal dream.
Only when Lumian patted him on the shoulder did he turn and follow, as if his spirit had abandoned him.
As they ascended towards the surface, Franca grinned and said, “Tomorrow and the day after, we’ll discover whether Susanna Mattise and the altar have been completely eradicated, by observing Charlie’s situation.”
“Whether Susanna Mattise comes searching for him?” Lumian, carrying the carbide lamp, startled Charlie intentionally.
If that were the case, Franca would have said “two days later” instead of “tomorrow or the day after.”
Charlie trembled and stammered, “H-h-how?”
Franca chuckled before replying, “If the official Beyonders don’t come looking for you, it means you have truly escaped the nightmare called Susanna.
“If they do come and offer you a good position, congratulations. You will have hope entwined with danger.”
“W-what do you mean?” Charlie didn’t fully grasp the meaning.
Franca didn’t explain further and instead inquired, “If you become a quarry policeman with a monthly salary of 300 verl d’or, you’ll face conflicts with smugglers, cave explorers, and bounty hunters every day. There’s a certain chance of sacrifice. Are you willing?”
“Of course!” Charlie blurted out.
Though being a quarry policeman was perilous, most of them managed to survive!
If Susanna Mattise isn’t completely purged, the official Beyonders would offer Charlie a job that would make it easier to protect him. And those positions often come with good pay. Lumian roughly understood Franca’s meaning.
The three of them exited Underground Trier, maneuvered through an alley, and crossed a barricade. Taking a secluded route on Rue des Blouses Blanches, they arrived at Franca’s sixth-floor apartment.
Franca removed her hood and casually tossed the bag containing their spoils of war beside the coffee table. She half-reclined on the armchair and gestured with a nod towards the sofa and another armchair.
“Now, we must endure until dawn.”
After Lumian and Charlie took their seats, the living room fell into an eerie silence.
This made Charlie uneasy. He glanced at Ciel and spoke up, “You actually possess those mystical abilities.”
“If not, how could I have slain Margot and Ait, becoming the guardian of Salle de Bal Brise and Auberge du Coq Doré?” Lumian chuckled.
“That’s true.” Charlie pondered for a moment and found this explanation more acceptable.
As the trio engaged in conversation, the needle of the cuckoo wall clock gradually approached midnight.
Outside the window, the darkness remained undisturbed.
At that moment, faint footsteps resonated from outside the door, approaching swiftly from below.
“Jenna… I forgot she was coming over tonight!” Franca exclaimed, sitting upright.
She glanced at Lumian, then at Charlie. After a brief moment of hesitation, she closed her eyes and waited for Jenna to open the door herself.
With a click, Jenna, dressed in a white blouse and a fluffy beige skirt, used the spare key to enter the apartment.
In an instant, she noticed Lumian and Charlie.
“What’s going on?” Jenna couldn’t hide her confusion, her gaze shifting between Lumian, Charlie, and Franca.
Franca mustered a forced smile and said, “We were getting bored. We thought of playing Fighting Evil. Want to join us? We have two decks of cards.”
Jenna peered suspiciously for a few seconds, sensing that Franca didn’t want to disclose the real reason in front of Ciel. She gestured towards the guest room and stated,
“Dammit, it’s already late. Why are you still playing cards? I have a packed day tomorrow. I need to get some sleep!”
She waved at Lumian and Charlie before heading towards the guest room.
Lumian gazed at Franca calmly and inquired, “Why didn’t you just tell her what we’re doing?”
Jenna, too, had fallen victim to the predicament at Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons. She had nearly been raped by the pervert named Hedsey.
Franca was caught off guard.
“You’re right. Why didn’t I just say it straightforwardly…”
There was no need to conceal it!
She glanced at the closed door of the guest room, intending to reveal the truth to Jenna later.
Casually, Lumian asked, “What does Jenna usually keep busy with?”
“Don’t you know?” Franca’s face gradually lit up with satisfaction. “She’s an apprentice in acting, studying drama. Sigh, it’s not like the old days. I heard in the previous era, apprentices could learn for free as long as they signed a long-term contract. They even received food and accommodation. Nowadays, not only do they have to pay tuition fees, but they also have to cover all expenses themselves.”
As Franca spoke, she noticed Lumian’s expression turning grave.
Lumian furrowed his brow and inquired, “At which theater is she doing her apprenticeship?”
“I never asked…” Franca murmured, making the connection.
In that instant, Jenna emerged from the guest room, carrying a stack of items as she made her way towards the restroom.
“What theater are you apprenticing at?” Franca stood up and inquired.
Jenna responded with confusion, “Why do you ask? You’ve never been curious before.”
Observing Lumian and Charlie’s focused gaze, she couldn’t help but curse, “Why the f*ck are you staring at me? Dogsh*t, what does my theater have to do with you?”
Realizing Franca and Lumian’s seriousness, she hesitated for a moment before muttering, “Dammit, there’s no need for me to hide anything! It’s the Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons.”