238 Endure
Lumian sat in the alleyway across from the member of parliament’s office, blending in with a group of tramps.
Having followed and observed carefully, he had pieced together the entire situation.
Within the office, someone had managed to find a reliable officer beforehand and instructed him to monitor cases of mysterious illnesses in their jurisdiction. This officer would keep things quiet, refraining from reporting to the corresponding official Beyonders. Furthermore, any evidence he discovered would be sent to the member of parliament’s office.
This revelation implied that the sickly lad who had spat into the handkerchief and discarded it knew the consequences of his actions. As long as he kept his mouth shut, the member of parliament would never seek assistance from the police headquarters!
Lumian’s gaze fixated on the khaki-colored four-story building. His hands unconsciously balled into fists, yet he restrained himself from taking any drastic measures.
After a while, he let out a slow exhale.
Just then, a familiar figure emerged from the door of the building that housed the member of parliament’s office.
This man donned a silk top hat and wielded a dark cane. Clad in a sharp black suit, a thick brown beard adorned his mouth and chin. Deep wrinkles framed his dark-blue, almost black eyes.
It was Bono Goodville, the owner of Goodville Chemical Factory. He had left the celebratory banquet earlier than Gardner Martin—the boss of the Savoie Mob—the previous night. Occasionally, his photos would appear in certain newspaper reports.
Lumian averted his gaze and waited. Only when the chief inspector left the member of parliament’s office unaccompanied and returned to the police headquarters did he rise from the alleyway teeming with tramps. He casually found a café and enjoyed a simple late breakfast.
Shortly before 11 a.m., he knocked on Franca’s door once again.
“How did it go? Have the official Beyonders taken over?” Franca had already risen from bed and changed into her favorite white blouse and light-colored breeches.
Lumian shook his head. “No.”
As he stepped into the apartment, he elaborated, “It was brushed under the carpet by a chief inspector from the police headquarters.”
Franca comprehended the situation and couldn’t help but scoff. “Even the folks at the member of parliament’s office recognize the problems of spitting anywhere!”
Lumian found a spot on the sofa and sat down. He recounted everything, from the moment the police arrived to investigate the scene until the chief inspector entered the member of parliament’s office.
Franca peered into his eyes, contemplating for a few seconds before speaking up,
“I understand that you find it hard to accept and that a fire might be raging in your heart. I truly empathize with you. Though that couple had no relation to you, you tried your utmost to save them, only to meet with failure. Many people can sympathize with such tragic encounters.
“But I must insist, be patient, endure, restrain yourself from rash actions or seeking revenge. These individuals are connected to the member of parliament. If anything were to happen, the situation would explode. It’s beyond our capacity to bear.”
Observing Lumian’s silence and absence of emotional outburst, Franca let out a sigh of relief and continued, “I’ll say it once more. It’s best to leave this matter to the official Beyonders for investigation. Later, through my contacts, I’ll inform them of this case and provide the suspect’s identity and description.
“Although crucial physical evidence might have been lost by now and the body likely cremated hastily, as long as the official Beyonders discover the existence of abnormal pathway Beyonder powers in their jurisdiction, targeting the person I identified through divination, they will discover his problem sooner or later.”
Upon hearing Franca’s advice, Lumian nodded, his thoughts aligning with her suggestion.
“Let’s go with that plan.”
Franca relaxed, taking a moment to contemplate before speaking again.
“I won’t divulge the precise details. I’ll merely mention a peculiar ailment causing festering in the market district. There’s suspicion that someone from the member of parliament’s office might have wrapped a handkerchief around thick phlegm, and similar incidents may have been concealed by the police headquarters.
“If I don’t do this, the official Beyonders might suspect you as the source of the information and thoroughly investigate you.”
Lumian acknowledged her concerns with a curt response, signifying his agreement.
After bidding farewell to Franca and departing Rue des Blouses Blanches, he encountered Jenna on his way to Salle de Bal Brise.
“Well, if it isn’t Celia?” Lumian greeted.
Showy Diva, dressed in a simple grayish-blue gown, had her brownish-yellow hair tied up in a natural bun. Her face lacked makeup, giving her an elegant appearance without her usual air of decadence.
Upon hearing Lumian call her by her real name, Jenna clenched her teeth and retorted,
“Just call me Jenna!”
Lumian sized her up.
“Did your mother hit you with a broomstick? Are you considering leaving the underground singer circle?”
“Dammit! You can’t seem to wish anything good upon me, can you?” Jenna exclaimed. “My mother is a gentle and reasonable person. Why would she hit me with a broomstick?”
She smirked confidently.
“Initially, she opposed my singing in the dance halls, thinking it was dangerous and prone to debauchery. But after I explained how much I could earn each week without having to sleep with any man, she relented. She even said she’d come to Salle de Bal Brise after work today to watch me perform. Dammit, what am I going to do?”
Lumian deliberately asked, “If your mother saw you wearing a revealing dress and deliberately raising your leg while singing ‘his touch is skilled indeed,’ how would she react?”
Jenna tousled her brownish-yellow hair. “She’d storm the stage and beat me to a pulp!”
She mumbled to herself before suggesting, “I don’t have to wear overly revealing dresses. Remember when I tried singing in a cocktail dress last time? The response was pretty good. It’s been a while, but I can give it another shot. The key is the song selection. I’ll discuss it with Franca. She has excellent taste. She even knows how to compose her own songs and write lyrics, though they’re all rather peculiar…”
Lumian smiled and spoke up, “If that doesn’t work out, I can have René organize a themed night event at Salle de Bal Brise. Tonight’s theme will be love.”
This would pair well with less suggestive love songs.
Jenna’s eyes lit up. “That’s a brilliant idea!”
She looked at Lumian awkwardly, offering her thanks.
“You’re quite quick-witted. Uh, dammit, thank you!”
Without waiting for Lumian’s response, Jenna instinctively glanced around and lowered her voice.
“I also told my mother that I’m good friends with Red Boots from the Savoie Mob and that she’s protecting me. That’s how I can sing at Salle de Bal Brise and stay safe. Remember, I came to you that day to negotiate a higher singing fee. And thanks to Franca, you agreed.
“If my mother asks you, just give this answer.”
Lumian nodded and teased, “It’s called collusion.”
“It’s called a harmless fib,” Jenna replied gleefully. “Just hold onto that story until I’ve been singing for another year. I’ll save up enough money for my tuition and pay off my debts.”
Lumian glanced at the apprentice actress and pondered, “Haven’t you thought about seeking proper compensation for that accident?”
“How?” Jenna’s eyes widened in confusion. “The court hasn’t reached a final verdict yet.”
Lumian chuckled.
“Why wait for the court? Settling debts is protected by the Guardian of Businesses. We can handle it ourselves.”
“That factory owner never said he wouldn’t pay us. His constant appeals are just about the division of responsibilities and the amount of compensation…” Jenna eyed Lumian suspiciously. “Are you suggesting we force him to compensate us? That’s illegal!”
“Illegal?” Lumian looked amused. “As a mob leader, I break the law every day. Didn’t you want to assassinate Margot and avenge your friend? Did legality matter to you back then?”
Jenna’s words faltered as she muttered,
“Margot is a mob leader who has committed countless crimes. Each one of them is deserving of the gallows.”
“So you want to be his judge and jury?” Lumian smiled. “That factory owner may have done many wrongs. Let’s mask our faces, infiltrate his house, tie him up, and make him compensate everyone. Alternatively, we can convince him to hand over the money quietly and split it among ourselves to avoid arousing suspicion during subsequent investigations.”
Jenna wore a troubled expression.
“I’ll think about it. I’ll consider it.”
Ciel lived up to his reputation as a mob leader. Discussing breaking the law came as naturally to him as eating and drinking.
Lumian didn’t press the matter further. Since Jenna wasn’t in a hurry, he saw no need to worry about her.
…
As evening approached, Lumian sat in the café on the second floor of Salle de Bal Brise, awaiting another night.
For now, he had nothing to occupy his time. All he could do was wait for Franca or the Boss to procure the additional ingredients for the Pyromaniac potion, the final step before his breakthrough to Sequence 7.
“Boss, what would you like to have for dinner tonight?” Louis asked Lumian as the sky grew darker.
Just as Lumian was about to respond, Jenna approached.
Showy Diva had transformed herself, donning a dress the color of roses. The hem of her gown appeared to defy gravity, resembling an inverted flower.
Her long, brownish-yellow hair was fashioned into a simple bun, with most of it cascading smoothly over her shoulders. Her makeup was subtle, accentuating her complexion and striking features. A mole adorned the right side of her face, and she held a beautifully patterned fan in her hand.
This left Louis and Sarkota dumbfounded. They could hardly believe that this was the same “Little Minx” Jenna.
Jenna nervously asked Lumian, “Is this suitable?”
“Quite impressive.” Lumian didn’t discourage Jenna.
Suddenly, a deafening explosion echoed in the distance. The ground trembled visibly, and the café’s glass windows rattled.
“Dammit, what’s happening?” Jenna exclaimed, peering out of the window in shock.
Lumian stood up and made his way to the window. As he looked outside, he noticed the perplexed and flustered pedestrians.
In the distance, a plume of black smoke billowed from the south.
“Find out what’s going on,” Lumian instructed Louis.
Once Louis departed, Jenna approached Lumian, her gaze fixed on the dark smoke rising from the southern part of the market district. Anxiousness and concern filled her.
After some time, Louis returned to the café and reported to Lumian, “Boss, there was an explosion at the Goodville Chemical Factory.”
A thud interrupted the conversation as Lumian turned to see Jenna’s fan fall to the ground.
Jenna appeared to lose her spirit as she murmured, sounding disoriented, “My mother, my mother is there…”
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