Hearing that, the purple-haired woman, Beatrice, adjusted some documents on her desk before placing her hands beneath it and bringing out a white box. Pulling it closer, she said with a professional smile,
"Alright, the divination will cost at least 10 pounds."
She gestured toward the box. "You'll need to pick a card before going in."
Lumian inwardly exclaimed, "10 pounds?! That's basically my salary for a week!"
He drew a slip of paper from the box and smiled. "Dear lady, do you take cash or transfer?"
She returned a slight smile. "Either is fine. Nevertheless, it will still be recorded."
She paused before continuing, "Besides, the only diviners here are Mr. James and Mr. Thomas. Normally, sorcerers don't choose the Diviner Order, so it's rather difficult to find one."
"Is that so…" Lumian thought inwardly.
She then gestured to the seats in front of her. "Please take a seat and wait for your number to be called."
Lumian nodded, turned, and walked away. Flipping over the paper, he saw the number 56 written on it.
As he approached a chair, he heard the receptionist call out, "Number 20."
He sighed and leaned back into his seat.
"This is going to be a long day."
...
Looking at the so-called "Harsh Groove Divination Store," Lumian felt it resembled a hospital more than a divination shop. The walls were stark white, and the atmosphere felt cramped and congested.
"Katalion City is just going downhill day by day…"
Lumian caught snippets of a conversation behind him. One man had neatly combed hair, a funny face, and glasses, while the other had a well-trimmed haircut and wore a suit.
"Right," the first man said, "it's not even just Katalion City—it's the Land of Betyl in Katalion itself that's declining."
"Hehe," replied the gentlemanly one. "Yes, even the southern lands dominated by the Linktons are doing better."
"Like…" the funny-looking man interrupted, "they have better transportation, fewer borders, and less inflation."
"Hehe," the other chuckled. "So what is the king of Betyl even doing on his throne, haha?"
Lumian rubbed his philtrum thoughtfully. "What a coincidence… Mrs. Venerable did say she needed a map from the southern lands to the north. What exactly is she planning?"
Judging by their conversation, Lumian assumed the men were foreigners. Typically, foreigners supported the Linktons, helping southern lands like Phitopia, Elitana, and Beridon to flourish. They also tended to brag quite a lot.
Just then, a voice called out:
"Number 29."
...
The funny-faced man stood up, carrying his brown bag.
"Like, Anderson," he said, "it's honestly kind of funny if you think about the situation in Betyl. It's like all the commission money is going straight into his belly instead of helping the city."
"But I heard he's working on the train route from Betyl to Montmartre Heights," Anderson replied.
The funny-faced man tilted his head slightly.
"That's fine and all, but building a locomotive route instead of focusing on major issues like inflation, agriculture, and production… that's just stupid. It's like he's a fat pig who only knows how to eat and sleep."
The gentleman chuckled lightly. "Hehe, I also heard he changed the currency recently."
The funny-faced man frowned. "Well, you see it for yourself," he said, sighing. Then he turned and walked toward a door.
"I'll be right back," he called out before reaching it.
"Alright, I'll be waiting," Anderson replied as the funny-faced man opened the door and stepped inside.
...
After a few moments, the man emerged from the door, and at the same time, another number was called: "Number 40."
Lumian sighed. "Just a little more…"
The funny-looking man and Anderson stood up and whispered to each other as they walked toward the door. Feeling a bit bored, Lumian pulled out his phone and scrolled through some TikTok reels—some made him laugh, others made him cringe.
Time slipped by unnoticed. Finally, a number was called: "Number 56." Hearing no response, the receptionist continued shouting until Lumian finally realized it was him. He stood up, approaching the desk and flashing a friendly smile.
"Sorry, dear lady. Please, where should I go for the divination?" he asked, handing her the paper.
At the same time, he brought the pressure up to his head. He noticed the receptionist glowing with a faint pink aura. "She doesnt seem to despise me, and I've never seen this color before… maybe pink means favor."
With a smile, she gestured toward the next door. "Mr. James is busy. Go through this door and meet Mr. Thomas."
Lumian brought the pressure down and smiled as he took three steps to the left, opened the door, and said politely,
"Thank you, kind ma'am," before stepping inside.
...
As Lumian stepped into the room, he quickly surveyed his surroundings. Brown and white wallpapers lined the walls, and picture frames hung neatly, each containing what seemed to be memorable events.
In front of him sat a man with short black-and-white hair, wearing a white linen shirt and a black vest. Despite his hair color, he looked slightly young.
Seeing him, Lumian's mouth twitched as he thought inwardly, "Perhaps I should have knocked before stepping inside."
With his hands steepled under his nose, the man asked,
"You're here to make inquiries using divination, right?"
"Yes, sir," Lumian replied with a polite smile.
The man lowered his hands and gestured to the seat in front of him. "Alright, take your seat."
Lumian walked forward and did as he was told.
The man leaned back in his chair, resting his left hand on the armrest while stroking his philtrum with his right.
"So, what made you choose divination? Any symptoms or results—maybe bad luck, future interpretation, luck improvement?"
Lumian smiled slightly. "Sir, it's basically a dream intrusion."
Mr. Thomas nodded slowly and gestured to the blue ball beside Lumian. "Think about what you believe is the cause of the dream intrusion, then say it three times."
"Hmm," Lumian thought as he looked at the ball. With a small chuckle, he continued inwardly, "This man is quite professional. He's even a better diviner than me. He must at least be Phase eight."
He placed both hands hovering above the ball and said inwardly:
"Is a spirit or deity after my life!
Is a spirit or deity after my life!
Is a spirit or deity after my life!"
After saying it three times, he removed his hands.
Noticing he was done, Thomas immediately took out a deck of tarot cards and scattered them across the table as if playing a game. There were six in total.
He flipped the three on the left.
The Sun.
The Star.
Six of Cups.
"Hm," Thomas murmured. "Whatever you believe you're going through… you aren't."
Lumian raised his brows slightly. He was absolutely certain something out of the ordinary was after his life.
Thomas then flipped the remaining three cards. They were the exact same three cards.
"What a shame," Thomas said calmly. "You see, the divination shows that whatever you're claiming, you're free from it."
Lumian's brows twitched. "Sir… may I ask another question?"
"No problem," Thomas replied. "Follow the same procedure."
Lumian once again raised his hands, hovering them above the blue ball.
"The divination shows nothing is after my life… Maybe it isn't actually after my life. Maybe it wants to communicate with me instead."
He sighed inwardly and continued:
"Is a spirit or any external force trying to communicate with me and get my attention!
Is a spirit or any external force trying to communicate with me and get my attention!
Is a spirit or any external force trying to communicate with me and get my attention!"
When he finished, Thomas once again scattered the tarot cards across the table.
He flipped the three on the left.
The High Priestess.
The Moon.
The Knight of Cups.
Then he flipped the remaining three.
They were the same set of cards!
...
"From the looks of it, it seems you're really going through what you're saying," Thomas said, finally offering a faint smile.
Lumian smiled back, a smug expression forming on his lips as he thought inwardly, "Hehe, what did I tell you."
He adjusted his coat and continued inwardly, "I really don't understand the tarot method. Maybe I'll learn star alignment instead. I understood that one better."
He walked toward the door.
"Meet the receptionist and pay before leaving," Thomas reminded him.
Lumian smiled and opened the door. "Thank you, sir. I will."
Stepping out, he added politely, "Have a nice day, sir," before closing the door softly behind him.
Reaching the desk, he brought out his phone and said with a polite smile,
"Dear lady, could you please call out your details?"
She smiled and recited the necessary information. Lumian entered everything and waited for the transaction to process. After a moment, the transfer was successful.
He smiled and walked toward the exit. "Till next time, dear lady."
"Yeah," Beatrice replied.
She watched Lumian's retreating figure in a slight daze until an old man suddenly snapped her out of it.
...
Lumian soon arrived at the Moonlight Watchers Faculty.
Looking at the building as he approached, he thought inwardly, "But what could actually be trying to communicate with me? Have I wronged anyone?"
Just as he pondered, a realization struck him. "Wait… in the first dream I had, I saw a white woman sitting on the moon. Could she be the one?"
He opened the door and stepped inside, still deep in thought. "Maybe she's a powerful spirit… or even the Pale Moon Goddess. But why would the Pale Moon Goddess be after me? Besides, I worship the Skywalker."
Before his thoughts could become chaotic, Lumian quickly surveyed his surroundings and noticed that the waiting area was filled with members of the faculty.
Curious, he scanned the room and spotted Captain Hargreaves near the stairs, observing the crowd.
Lumian walked over with a small smile.
"Captain, good morning." He paused, then glanced around. "What's going on here?"
Without much concern, Hargreaves replied,
"One of St. Mary's texts has been stolen."
...
Meanwhile, in the king's mansion, a door opened and a girl stepped out. She had long black hair and dark eyes. It was Catherine.
Inside the room, a man with short yellow hair was busy signing some documents.
Catherine walked forward, and stood next to her father.
After a moment, she hadn't left. Seeing her unshakeable presence, the king finally looked up.
"Catherine, you're finally out of your room and meeting your father," he said. His gaze fixed on her. "What do you want?"
Catherine chuckled as she sat in the chair next to him.
"Nothing, Dad," she said lightly, then added with a sly smile, "Nothing serious, hehe."
She paused, glancing around the room, taking in the golden wallpaper decorated with intricate patterns. After a moment, she asked, "Dad, I heard that the 'Vieled' have aligned with the Linktons."
The king stopped signing and sighed.
"Yes… I recently heard the same. I was depending on that organization."
Catherine quickly interjected,
"But I recently heard of a new… better secret organization."
The king frowned. "A new secret organization? What is its name? How influential is its leader?"
Catherine found herself in a pickle. Mr. Beyond hadn't given her the name of the organization. She muttered inwardly,
"Skywalker, damnit… what will I say?"