"Uh..." Franca pondered for a few seconds before saying to Janna, "When it comes to losing control and going crazy, it doesn't matter if you are from the Orthodox Church or a wild Beyonder, you are all equal. Those monks are just as likely to lose control and become monsters, or develop mental problems and head down the path to the abyss."
The more Janet listened, the more solemn her expression became.
It's not like Franca had not said similar words to her before, but she had never felt them in reality. It was not until she saw with her own eyes the arms stretching out on the secret caves and rock walls deep in the darkness, and associated them with loss of control and madness, that she truly realized the cruelty and terror of those two words.
Lumian continued, "That's why acting is so important. However, you must always remember that you are just acting. As an actor, you should know that you cannot immerse yourself in a role and cannot get out of it. Even if you are not a Beyonder, you will have mental problems if you do that."
Franka and Lumian worked together to educate the new employees.
After Janna nodded seriously, she returned to the disappearance of the gatekeeper of the Deep Valley Monastery: "My plan is, on the one hand, to reveal the location and situation of the secret cave to the people of the Eternal Sun Church through my own channels. How will they communicate with the authorities in the future? It is their business, and we can't control it. Even if they choose to suppress this matter in the end, it can be regarded as a precaution, and there is no need to worry about major problems. On the other hand, at the next gathering, I will tell this information to the client and see how he reacts? Maybe I can even give him some hard work fees."
She chose to inform the people of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun instead of the Beyonders of the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery because she was not sure which side of the internal conflict was trustworthy.
"I have no opinion."
After listening to Lumian and Franka, Janna has deeply realized the huge risks involved in this mission.
Although she wanted the 20,000 Felgin reward very much, she still controlled herself.
Franka turned to Lumian and said, "The Harvest Festival has found a buyer, but the transaction has not yet been formally completed. The price is 10,000 Fel Gold."
"I have already given you four thousand, and I will give you another thousand in two days."
“That’s very efficient.” Lumian praised with a smile.
"I can't really tell whether you are praising me or mocking me," Franca muttered.
Jenna was very envious as she listened in. The deal that Franca and Charles casually discussed was worth 10,000 Felgins, and even if her mother was treated according to the worst possible scenario, their family would at most owe a foreign debt of 7,000 to 8,000 Felgins.
Is this a Beyonder? Janet's understanding of this aspect became clearer and clearer.
Lumian glanced at the curtains that had already been drawn, and without letting Jenna avoid him, he said directly, "I completed the final test last night and officially became a member of the boss's core group."
"What kind of test?"
Although she inevitably felt aggrieved, unwilling and angry, Franca, who had already vented her emotions once, was more curious.
Lumian started with Gardner Martin's late night visit to the Breeze Ballroom and asked him to spend the night at 13 Market Avenue, until he avoided the unusual pollution and waited for the sun to rise.
He concealed the existence of Thermipoulos and portrayed himself as smart, decisive, and firm. He was able to judge the essence of the problem based on a few details, and under various influences, he maintained the principle of not responding.
Making up stories has always been Lumian's strong point. Franca was terrified and suspicious after hearing this: "Were you really not shaken at all at that time?"
Janna nodded secretly, thinking that if it were her, she would have been unable to resist responding when the door opened, while Franca would at most insist on having her face covered in dripping blood.
Lumian laughed. “I’m sure I’ll waver, but I trust my own judgment more.”
Franca looked him up and down, still a little unconvinced, and asked, "Did you really think of not responding?"
“No.” Lumian finished the story he had just made up with a frank attitude.
Franca and Janna were both stunned.
Lumian took the opportunity to start another topic, and said with a smile: "Are you guys stupid? You must have received the information in advance, otherwise, how could I, who just got rid of the hat of occult illiteracy, figure it out?"
"If you have the opportunity to go on the night watch, besides not responding, remember to bring the mirror that can enter the underground mirror world. According to intelligence, the abnormality at No. 13 Market Avenue may manifest differently depending on the route."
Franka suddenly realized where Lumian got his information from.
She muttered, "You'll never find a girlfriend if you talk like that, kid."
She was almost provoked just now, let alone a real woman. This made Franca secretly relieved and felt that this bastard boy Charles should not have much popularity with the opposite sex for the time being.
While Janna was annoyed by the ridicule, she also regained a lot of confidence. She thought that the IQ gap between her and Charles was so big that it could not be made up. Of course, you also admire the fact that Charles could firmly believe in the information and did not show any substantial wavering.
She pursed her lips and said, "I am increasingly aware of the horror of the world of occultism."
The anomaly at No. 13 Market Avenue was more frightening and shocking than the scene in the secret cave in the deep valley quarry. In comparison, her previous experience of being knocked unconscious by the perverted Hedsey and taken underground was more like a criminal case.
"In the next few years, there will be more and more strange incidents like this." Franca did not miss any opportunity to teach Janna, trying to make her more motivated and expectant about promotion.
Lumian then talked about his own guess: No. 13 Market Avenue, the Beyonder who only affects hunters and witches at non-specific times.
After discussing for a while, seeing that it was getting late at night, Franka and Janna left the Golden Rooster Hotel with a stack of occult magazines and returned to White Coat Street.
At three o'clock in the afternoon of the second day, after pretending to be a good person all day at the Breeze Ballroom, Lumian took advantage of a public carriage and changed buses repeatedly until he arrived at Lavigne Pier in the square area, ready to listen to Mr. Fool's bishop's sermon.
It was a very busy inland port, filled with steam vessels belching white mist.
A large number of dock workers used various tools and their own bodies to move boxes of goods down and stack them on the flat surface erected on the track.
In addition to these, the docks are also lined with various huge moving machines, some of which are as high as ten or twenty meters, made purely of steel parts, driven by giant steam engines, and operated by technicians, lifting steel boxes that humans cannot lift.
At a glance, Lumian felt that the place was both messy and bustling, both spectacular and dirty, full of vitality and revealing undisguised cruelty.
He withdrew his gaze and walked around the pier. He did not find any strangers who seemed to be visitors from the sea asking where the Church of Fools was. They looked like visitors who came to visit on a whim.
There are circles of buildings around the port, filled with bars, hotels, warehouses, beer houses, cafes, restaurants and dance halls, and the streets are full of hawkers.
Lumian also saw frosted glass windows with green shutters, which belonged to licensed prostitutes.
After walking around for a long time, Lumian found Mr. Fool's church. It was an independent building with an ordinary appearance, as if it was renovated from a normal four-story house with a bell tower and a spire.
It was all black, and engraved on the front wall was an occult symbol that Lumian was very familiar with.
That is the symbol of Mr. Fool, a silver-white symbol composed of an incomplete childless eye and some twisted lines.
Looking at the gate that was two stories high, Lumian did not rush in, but continued walking forward as if he was shopping.
As a hunter, it is instinctive to grasp the details of the surrounding environment in advance when there is a choice.
After walking for more than ten meters, he chose a bar called Sea Breeze, intending to listen to what the merchants, sailors from the sea and the citizens of this neighborhood thought about the Church of Fools.
The Sea Breeze Bar is decorated like a ship cabin, with fish specimens, ship rudders, sail fragments and other things hanging on the walls. The air is filled with the smell of strong liquor and cheap cosmetics.
Some of the men dressed as sailors sat together playing cards, some were making out with street girls in the corner, and some were drinking and bragging loudly at the bar.
Lumian looked around and spotted a man who could not be ignored.
He sat on a single sofa near the bar, leaning back with his hands on the back of the chair. From time to time, he took a sip of oatmeal beer, and raised his legs and placed them on the edge of the small round table, with a rather arrogant posture.
What caught Lumian's attention was not the condition of this person, but the performance of the sailors around him.
They either deliberately opened that spot, or walked by with a flattering look on their faces, full of awe. Even if they just chatted with the man for a few words and were joked with, they looked honored.
A big shot from the sea, very famous? Lumian looked at the man casually. He was in his thirties, wearing a linen shirt, brown waistcoat, dark brown trousers and black leather boots. His eyebrows and hair were burnt yellow, as if burned by fire. His eyes were deep blue but bright, and his facial features were like those of a person from southern Intis.
Noticing Lumian's gaze, the man smiled and raised the oatmeal beer in his hand.
Lumian smiled back, walked all the way to the bar, and ordered a glass of Leronzi, the favorite of pirates and sailors.
After taking a sip of the strong liquor filled with malt aroma and burning taste, he did not hide his curiosity. He pointed at the single sofa nearby with his chin and asked the bartender in a low voice: "Who is that?"
The bartender's expression suddenly turned serious, and he asked in a low voice, "You don't know him?"
In his opinion, not knowing that person seemed to be a very surprising thing.