Chapter 325 - 325 Visit

325 Visit

The attendants gaze locked onto the handful of gold coins and the banknotes, their unique ink fragrance captivating his senses. He couldnt help but hold his breath, caught in the allure of the treasure before him.

A-all of it? The attendants voice quivered as he swallowed with difficulty.

With a precise flick of his wrist, Albus tossed a gold coin worth 5 verl dor into the attendants waiting palm. A confident smile tugged at his lips as he spoke, That depends on the value of the information you provide. Rest a.s.sured, youll receive another 20 verl dor, no matter what.

The attendant gingerly bit the gold coin, stealing a glance back at the path they had traversed. His voice dropped to a hushed tone as he shared, Just as you surmised, the man from the south, in Room 2 on the sixth floor, frequents the company of the most renowned courtesans. He possesses a penchant for pre-ordering his meals, which we dutifully deliver to his quarters every half hour.

A southerner with a penchant for famous courtesans and a habit of pre-ordered meals. Room 602 Albus wasnt one to skimp on appreciation. He tossed two 10 verl dor coins, etched with the likeness of a wars.h.i.+p, to the attendant.

Seizing the calmness on Rue de la Muraille, Albus covertly ascended to the sixth floor, concealing himself on the balcony at the corridors far end.

Within mere minutes, the attendant tasked with meal deliveries arrived at Room 602, carried by a steam-powered mechanical elevator. A silver-white metal serving cart accompanied him. Carefully, he pressed the doorbell.

Albus straightened up, aligning his view with Room 602s entrance. His gaze intensified.

The door swung open, revealing a man of slight stature, not exceeding 1.7 meters. His attire comprised a pitch-black half-mask, a crisp white s.h.i.+rt, and pale-hued boxer shorts.

Removing his trousers but leaving his upper attire on Concealing tattoos, perhaps? The more Albus observed, the stronger his conviction that the occupant of Room 602 matched the likeness of Guillaume Bnet from the wanted posters.

Abstaining from disturbing his quarry, Albus settled back into a white-paneled armchair on the balcony. From his pocket emerged a gray-furred ratone of Beast Tamer Christos pets.

Lumian had engaged the services of the Rat, his abilities allowing easy communication and efficient coordination among team members.

Naturally, Christo served as the intermediary and the translator.

Albus tenderly patted the rats head, signaling it with a gesturea thumb and index finger forming a ring, with the remaining fingers raised.

This signified the discovery of the prime suspect.

With a high-pitched squeak, the rat darted from Albuss grasp, off to find its owner at a nearby tavern.

Upon learning from Christos pet parrot that members of the Iron and Blood Cross Order had located the padre, Lumian found himself plunged into a momentary maelstrom of shock and confusion.

Had they truly found Guillaume Bnet? Then, who did I see?

If the occupant of 50 Rue Vincent is Guillaume Bnet, where did the counterfeit they see come from?

Subst.i.tution Spell!

It was one of the five specialized ritualistic magics Lumian had acquired as an Alms Monk. The padre, now a Sequence 5 Fate Appropriator, was evidently familiar with it.

This ritual enabled the user to choose another person to inhabit their ident.i.ty for a period upon sensing impending danger. By gaining the genuine or fake approval of those around them and establis.h.i.+ng a strong mystical connection, a ritual could then finalize the switch.

If the Subst.i.tution Spell succeeded, the stand-in would be indistinguishable from the original in the eyes of others, although their self-awareness and performance might be compromised to a degree. Nevertheless, their core ident.i.ty would remain.

When the subst.i.tute faced imminent disaster, the one who cast the Subst.i.tution Spell could alter their own fate, thus avoiding the impending calamity.

Of course, this hinged on the subst.i.tute being kept unaware of the impending danger.

While this ruse could prove effective on other Beyonders, Lumian was well-acquainted with the circ.u.mstances surrounding the Subst.i.tution Spell. Thus, he couldnt be easily deceived.

For Lumian, the paramount issue at hand was this: Which individual was the true Guillaume Bnet, and which was the subst.i.tute?

To deal a decisive blow to the padre and apprehend him with minimal casualties, Lumian needed to consolidate his forces and make a choice. He couldnt attack both ent.i.ties simultaneously.

Gardner Martin had merely agreed to a.s.sist in locating the prey, without extending further support. Consequently, the majority of individuals dispatched by the Iron and Blood Cross Order were Low-Sequence Beyonders or even regular people.

If Lumian opted to solicit Gardner Martins aid, it might take hours for the Iron and Blood Cross Order to a.s.semble sufficient reinforcements. Guillaume Bnet didnt possess limitless endurance, and the courtesan wasnt a Demoness of Pleasure who could allow an extended encounter. He would definitely be gone by then.

The question remains: What decision would Guillaume Bnet make? Would he have the subst.i.tute remain at the residence to divert danger while he ventured out for personal pursuits? Alternatively, would he dispatch the subst.i.tute to showcase his characteristic behavior, drawing danger away from himself? Lumian found both scenarios challenging to dismiss.

After deliberation, his gaze s.h.i.+fted to the green and white parrot. He addressed it, Locate Red Boots Franca and ask her to divine the authenticity of the Guillaume Bnet at 50 Rue Vincent and the one present here.

The parrot stared at Lumian as if questioning his sanity. Im just a parrot.

What I said is too complicated. It cant understand or memorize everything? Lumian swiftly arrived at a decision.

Guide me to Red Boots Franca. Actually, first lead me to Christo.

Time remained on their side. The individual at 50 Rue Vincent couldnt elude them. The team responsible for the mission could convene briefly, exchanging essential information.

In the shadows they lingered, while their foes roamed in plain sight. As long as they didnt startle the targets, they could afford to wait. Of course, they had to conclude before Guillaume Bnets deed with the courtesan reached its conclusion. After all, tailing an individual posed inherent risks, especially when dealing with the padre and his array of bizarre and unfamiliar abilities.

In a narrow alley near Rue de la Muraille.

The afternoon sun cast its radiant touch upon the mostly dismantled barricade, while even the breeze seemed to take a momentary pause.

Franca, now garbed in an a.s.sa.s.sins attire, and Jenna, disguised as a female mercenary, rendezvoused with Anthony Reid, still clad in his military green attire, and Lumian, sporting a cap, a black vest, and a white s.h.i.+rt.

Lumian delivered a succinct briefing, omitting details about the Subst.i.tution Spell due to time constraints, referring to it merely as a form of witchcraft capable of generating lifelike subst.i.tutes.

Soon, an aqueous luminescence radiated from the mirror, accompanied by an aged voice.

They are both real.

Both real Franca turned to Lumian in surprise.

The witchcraft responsible for creating the subst.i.tute proves potentresembling the original down to appearance and fate. Conventional divination methods stand powerless against such deception!

Both real Lumian had antic.i.p.ated this response and had already devised an alternative course of action.

Sensing his silence, Franca drew a deep breath, hesitatingly suggesting, D-Do you need me to consult another source?

She aimed to seek confirmation from the ent.i.ty renowned for unerring divination.

Yet, this approach risked unveiling a question that could render her socially deceased before Jenna, Lumian, and Anthony Reid.

She envisioned the other party asking, Do you often entertain the idea of doing the deed with Jenna?

How would she navigate her future interactions with Jenna?

Lumian shook his head, a.s.serting, No need. I have a plan.

Turning his attention to Jenna, he directed, Conceal yourself in the shadows diagonally across from Room 602 in Dill. Keep a vigilant watch on that Guillaume Bnets activities.

If he concludes his affairs and prepares to depart, but we havent arrived yet, refrain from impulsive pursuit. Instead, discreetly monitor his movements from a distance and deduce his chosen path.

Understood. Jenna nodded, mentally rehearsing her upcoming task.

Lumian s.h.i.+fted his focus to Franca and Anthony Reid.

Lets proceed to 50 Rue Vincent together. Ill directly confront Guillaume Bnet. Franca, maintain invisibility and follow me closely. We mustnt launch an attack until were certain of his authenticity.

Anthony, secure the perimeter outside. If the Guillaume Bnet on Rue Vincent proves to be counterfeit and we hasten to Dill, covertly monitor the madame there, tracking her movements. In case Guillaume Bnet manages an escape, she could serve as a pivotal lead for subsequent pursuit.

If the 50 Rue Vincent counterpart is genuine and a skirmish erupts, approach discreetly and provide reinforcement.

Franca harbored no objections to this arrangement. Aware of Lumians teleportation abilities, she grasped that once he confirmed the Rue Vincent Guillaume as fake, he could facilitate swift transition for the primary combatants to the opposite location, preventing the two Guillaumes from exchanging information.

a.s.sessing the calculated risks, Anthony endorsed the plan, confirming his willingness to execute his designated role.

50 Rue Vincent, near the beige three-story building.

Observing Francas seamless invisibility, Lumian raised his right hand and swept it across his face.

In an instant, he transformed into a man in his thirties, attired in a black uniform with an inspectors epaulet.

Niese Face!

Satisfied with his condition, Lumian proceeded to the designated building and pressed the doorbell.

The door swung open, revealing a man garbed as a butler. His gaze landed on Lumian as he inquired with a touch of confusion, Officer, how may I a.s.sist you?

Im here regarding a missing vagrant case linked to this street. Id appreciate a conversation with your master, Lumian nonchalantly fabricated.

A subtle s.h.i.+ft occurred in the butlers expression.

Please wait a moment, Officer. I shall inquire with our master.

After a brief pause, the butler returned to the doorway, addressing Lumian, Officer, our master invites you to the small parlor on the ground floor.

Lumian offered a slight nod and trailed the butler into the abode at 50 Rue Vincent.

The living area exuded s.p.a.ciousness, hosting a bluish-gray cat huddled in one corner, its presence accompanied by the ceaseless chirping of caged birds. Positioned in the aisle, a black dog, reminiscent of a hound, remained seated, its gaze unwaveringly fixated on the unfamiliar entrant.

Circ.u.mventing an elegant sofa, the butler led Lumian into a parlor towards the rear. There, a man with midnight hair, azure eyes, and a slightly hooked nose reclined in an armchair. He sported a dark-hued s.h.i.+rt and black trousers, his demeanor one of relaxed arrogance as he gently caressed the head of a sizable brown-furred dog.

Officer, in what way may I be of a.s.sistance? The man inquired, rising with deliberate languor.

Its himGuillaume Bnet! Padre Guillaume Bnet! Lumians pupils contracted, closing the distance to a mere five meters.

Then, he parted his lips and voiced, Ha!

Action was the sole path to distinguis.h.i.+ng the genuine from the imposter!