"F**k… what will I say?"
Before she could think any further, her father interrupted. "Catherine, what's the name?"
Catherine immediately panicked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"The Watchers Lounge."
King Mathew nodded slowly as he rubbed his glabella. "I've never heard of it."
Catherine quickly interjected, "It's a new organization, but they're already growing and being talked about everywhere."
"Is that so…" the king said thoughtfully. After a brief pause, he asked,
"How influential is the leader?"
Catherine raised her brows slightly. "Uh, his name is Mr. Beyond. He's a really big shot… a respected and honorable figure."
Her father didn't respond. He simply waited for her to continue. "Uh… he's the one who gazes at infinites, the one who looks into definite possibilities. He's the ruler of the White Kingdom… the one who brings fortune and dispels bad luck…"
...
"Hmmm," the king murmured. He stroked his jawline and, after a moment, said, "The proposal sounds interesting, but don't we already have a capable sorcerer? Mr. Shadow."
With a serious expression, Catherine replied, "No. One sorcerer is not enough to protect you, Father."
The king chuckled. "You're also a sorcerer. At least we have one in the house."
Catherine smiled faintly. As she looked at him, she suddenly saw that he was glowing with a white light. Behind him, there seemed to be the faint image of a happy, angelic face.
Hmm, Catherine thought inwardly. He used to have negative thoughts about me… what changed?
The king lowered his gaze to the documents on the golden table and asked, "What is their offer? Or rather, what do they gain?"
Catherine smiled. "Well, Father, I haven't discussed directly with them. I got the information from one of their members. Perhaps the next time I meet the person, I'll talk further."
The king chuckled and gently stroked her hair. "That's my girl. I've always wondered—how do you know all this information?"
"From sources… and sometimes news reports," Catherine replied with a smile, clearly already prepared an excuse. "In this world, it's good to stay informed."
The king nodded slowly. "Yes, it is. But with you, I'm not surprised. You've always been interested in such matters." He laughed softly. "Remember when you begged to become a sorcerer?"
He looked at her again and added, "You're still young. You're just approaching adulthood. I'd prefer you focus on your studies, grow up properly… and marry a good husband."
"I will, Dad," she replied as she stood up.
Just before she opened the door, Mathew added, "And remember, the husband must be a very noble man. Didn't you see the girl your brother married? Hehe."
Catherine couldn't help but chuckle. "I will, Dad."
She opened the door and stepped out.
As she descended the stairs, she let out a long sigh of relief. "Thank Skywalker… I did it. Now I just need to bring the proposal to Mr. Beyond. I just hope Mr. Plunderer fulfills his part of the exchange and brings the map…"
...
Blackhead, near Hadgy Residence.
Meanwhile, in another part of Betyl, near the alley of a bar, a man with disheveled curly green hair arrived in a taxi. He was wearing a white polo. Stepping out, he quickly surveyed his surroundings.
Looking ahead, he saw some men in the alley, their faces covered in shadows, though their actions were visible. One was seated on a trashcan, smoking, while the other leaned against the wall, flipping a pencil leisurely.
Seeing them, the green-haired man smiled, turned to the taxi driver, and paid for the transport, which was six pounds.
He then walked forward and entered the alley.
Seeing him, the pair smiled as though greeting a long-distance friend. "Carl," the one with blue falling hair and yellow teeth said. "This is new. You're dressed well today. Where are you heading?"
Carl smiled. "Nowhere in particular. I'm here to make an inquiry about a certain object."
"Hmmm~" the one leaning on the wall said. "Looks like Carl has a big customer." He paused before continuing. "So what's the object?"
Carl shifted his gaze to the lighter in the blue-haired man's hand and spoke calmly. "I need the map of the entire southern continent, all the way to the north."
"Okay, okay," the one leaning on the wall replied. As he spoke, his eyes observed the green-haired man with a little beard on his cheeks and a rather handsome face. "But what does the 'client' want to use the map for?"
Carl crossed his arms with a chuckle. "I really don't know. What's my business to pry?"
Shifting the conversation, he asked, "Do you have it?"
The blue-haired one gave a signal to the red-haired man leaning on the wall. The latter walked toward the dumpster and pulled out a bag from underneath it. From the bag, he brought out a golden-colored map.
With "professional" movements, they handed the map to Carl, while the blue-haired one continued smoking.
Carl opened it and examined it carefully, confirming its authenticity. After a moment, he nodded. "Bob, how much is it?"
Bob thought for a moment. "We stole it from a rich businessman last week," he said with a grin. "You're a regular client, so we wouldn't give you anything fake. Let's say... 100 pounds."
"100 pounds!" Carl thought inwardly. Something countless businessmen and nobles are trying to get their hands on, and you call it just 100 pounds?"
Keeping a serious expression, he said, "Bob, that price is too high. Since I'm a regular customer, make it 80 pounds."
"..."
Bob was momentarily stunned. He smoked as he thought for a moment before replying, "Alright."
With his eyes practically beaming, Carl brought out his phone and transferred the money.
Before leaving, he asked another question.
"Do you sell wolf's bane?"
...
Lamenti, Moonlight Watchers Faculty.
The waiting room of the Moonlight Watchers Faculty was crowded as people moved around aimlessly, murmuring amoung themselves.
Lumian looked around before asking his captain, "Captain Hargreaves, why don't you seem concerned about the missing text?"
But who would be after an old book? What could it contain? Could it be important? Lumian wondered inwardly.
After a moment, Hargreaves opened his mouth to speak, but Lumian quickly raised another question. "And Captain, which of St. Mary's books was stolen? The Book of Testament, the Book of Wisdom, or... her last book—the Book of Revelation?"
Hargreaves finally spoke with a faint smile. "Vincent, calm down. You don't need to rush these things."
Lumian's mouth twitched slightly. "Sir, I'm not Vincent. I'm Lumian."
Hargreaves sighed, lowering his head as he rubbed his temples. "Ah, my mistake. Going to the Laby really messes with my brain."
Thank Skywalker I didn't choose that Order, Lumian approved inwardly.
Raising his head again, Hargreaves continued calmly, "It's the Book of Revelation. But you shouldn't worry too much about it."
Lumian gave him a questioning look. Seeing this, Hargreaves quickly added, "There's nothing to worry about. I placed a spell on it. When you're near it, you'll feel a tingling sensation." He chuckled softly. "It works even better for diviners—since they're more sensitive to their environment."
Lumian smiled inwardly. No wonder the captain is not panicked, what a wise man.
...
After that, Lumian's doubts were mostly eased, and he flashed a smile.
"So what are we doing today, Captain?" he asked.
Hargreaves rubbed his cheek and thought for a moment before replying, "I don't think you'll be here today. You and Rosanne will continue your shift at the Crimson Choir Faculty."
"Okay, Captain," Lumian replied calmly.
Hargreaves smiled. "You've come a long way. Remember when you joined the church two years ago? Hehe… You've worked your way up from a bounty hunter to a full church member."
"Thank you, Captain," Lumian said sincerely.
...
Afterward, Lumian went to the Crimson Choir Faculty. As usual, he met Mira behind the counter, exchanged a few casual words with her, and then headed to his office.
He reviewed paperwork and assisted with managing the church's finances. When he finished work, he strolled with Rosanne toward Hadgy Residence in Blackhead, where she lived. Along the way, they bought some groceries. Lumian picked up pepper, onions, and beef for dinner, while Rosanne bought beverages and some meat.
When they reached Hadgy Residence, they bid each other farewell.
...
Soon, the night grew heavier, and Lumian arrived home. He took off his shoes, went straight to the shower, and turned on the water, letting it run over him. As he stood there, he slicked back his hair and thought about what Hargreaves had said. He couldn't help but chuckle.
His thoughts wandered—to the dream intrusion from yesterday, the divination, the missing text, and his time at work.
After finishing his shower, he put on a white baggy shirt and black trousers and headed to the kitchen, preparing a hearty soup.
The atmosphere that night was warm and lively. The siblings talked about their day, with Kelvin passionately discussing bills as usual.
Eventually, the sky darkened completely, and the pale moon became visible. They said goodnight and returned to their rooms.
...
Later that night, Lumian lay curled on his bed, staring at the ceiling as he reviewed the events of the day.
St. Mary's text was stolen… but why? And it's the one written as though she had gone mad. The text is difficult to read, and many historians have tried to decipher it, only gaining fragments of meaning. I wonder what it truly contains.
His thoughts shifted to the eidolon in his head and the curse logic theory he had proposed.
I still don't know the origin of this eidolon. I wanted to ask Derrick about it, but I was reassigned to the Crimson Choir Faculty. And if I ask the Captain, he might grow suspicious…
He paused before continuing inwardly.
As for curse logic… since performing the role of my Order, my headaches have reduced. But I still haven't obtained a Law. What exactly do I need to do.
He gave a self-deprecating chuckle. At least I'm not following curse logic yet, hehe.
Lost in his thoughts, Lumian suddenly focused on something deeper.
In one of St. Mary's books—the Book of Testament—it states that the Creator's mind gave birth to curses. But it never specifies how they spread.
He slowly realized something.
No matter how the mysteries of the past are explained, they still hold countless hidden truths and possibilities. Words alone cannot uncover everything.
He adjusted his posture and continued thinking.
We don't truly learn from the past—we only read it and construct theories, without fully understanding its purpose. History cannot exist without the present, and the present cannot exist without the past.
With that realization, Lumian closed his eyes and gradually fell asleep.
...
Suddenly, he found himself inside an abandoned building.
He watched as another version of himself threw decks of playing cards at his brother. One of the cards impaled him.
The dream-self's lips slowly curved upward in a smile.
Lumian abruptly awoke.
He quickly assessed his surroundings. Pale moonlight streamed through his window.
"I don't think this is another dream intrusion…" he muttered.
At the same time, his body began tingling uncontrollably.
"The text is close!"