203 Cooperation
Lumian retreated to the cluster of tramps, patiently awaiting the emergence of Louis Lund.
Soon enough, Anthony Reid, the information broker, returned after changing his attire, seemingly determined to fulfill his promise and seize an opportunity to tail Louis Lund.
At that moment, he sported a yellowish-white shirt and a brown formal coat. There was no bow tie around his neck, but he wore a round hat, resembling a clerk fresh out of the office.
Had Lumian not possessed a certain knowledge of Reidâs build, temperament, and gait, he might have failed to recognize him.
After considering his options, Lumian stepped out from the crevice between the two buildings and confronted Anthony Reid.
Having discarded his disguise upon departing the Valiant Café, he now donned a simple ensemble consisting of black-framed glasses and a broad brown hat. Those familiar with him could effortlessly discern his identity.
Noticing the shift in Anthony Reidâs gaze, Lumian whispered as they brushed past each other, âIâm back. Await me at the rear entrance.â
Although the Prophecy Spell indicated a reunion with Louis Lund on Avenue du Marché, Lumian aimed to avert any potential mishaps.
On one hand, the Prophetic Concoction derived from his bodyâs response, rendering it somewhat unreliable. There might be omissions within the prophecy. On the other hand, the manifestation of a prophecy could assume various forms, deviating entirely from his anticipated sequence of events.
Anthony Reid withdrew his gaze and nodded, signifying his comprehension.
He advanced onward, passing by the residence of âBlack Scorpionâ Roger, and disappearing into the distance down an alley.
Lumian did not immediately turn around. Beneath the glow of street lamps, he pressed onward.
Just as he reached a dimly lit section, a figure emerged from the shadows beneath a dilapidated, iron-black street lamp in the alley ahead.
The towering individual, garbed in a form-fitting black robe with a hood that nearly concealed the face, beckoned to Lumian.
Franca? Lumian instantly formed a conjecture and hastened towards her.
The conspicuously dressed character was indeed âRed Bootsâ Franca.
This time, she had forgone her trademark red boots in favor of black ones.
âArenât you concerned about being discovered?â Lumian couldnât help but inquire.
While Trieriens had a high tolerance for eccentric attire and even actively pursued fashion trends, loitering in secrecy while dressed in such a manner would undoubtedly draw the attention of âBlack Scorpionâ Roger and the Poison Spur Mobâeven the passing laborers!
Franca grinned nonchalantly and retorted, âYou donât understand. This is all part of the procedure! Didnât your sister teach you?â
Indeed, she did teach me, but she never mentioned employing it in such a place or situation⊠Before Lumian could utter another word, Franca waved her hand dismissively.
âFret not, I wonât be discovered.â
As her words faded, she took a step backward, merging seamlessly with the shadow and vanishing from Lumianâs sight.
If it werenât for the inevitable gender change at Sequence 7, he would have considered this path more to his liking than that of the Hunter.
Emerging from the shadows once more, Franca pointed toward 126 Avenue du Marché in the distance.
âThat carriage driver should be the Louis Lund you seek. Shall I assist you in tailing him later?
âI understand that Hunters possess a houndâs nose and eagleâs eyes, making them adept at tracking, but you struggle with concealment. Staying too far away risks losing the target, while staying too close risks discovery. Itâs safer if I handle it.
âDonât forget, Louis Lund is also a Beyonder, and he worships an evil god. Itâs possible he possesses unique abilities.â
This time, Lumian didnât resist or reject the offer. He nodded and replied, âVery well.â
At present, he couldnât mark Louis Lund with a distinct scent, and darkness was swiftly descending. The crowded streets, filled with pedestrians and carriages, would muddle any traces. Tailing from 20 to 30 meters away could easily result in losing the target with the slightest misstep.
Francaâs thin, red lips curled into a visible smile, free from the confines of the hooded shadow, as she spoke,âYour afternoon therapy session was quite effective. A man should be more open-minded, untroubled by trivial matters.â
She lightly tapped her chest as she spoke.
From her possession emerged a glass bottle.
The surface of the small bottle had been intricately etched into small squares, reflecting the nearby streetlampâs light and shimmering with psychedelic colors.
âWhen I lived as a man, I found these perfume bottles to be beautifully crafted, but I felt too self-conscious to buy them or carry them with me. Now, I have no such concerns. Sometimes, changing your gender can open the door to a new world,â Franca said with emotion.
The door to a new world refers to sleeping with men? If it werenât for the crucial task of tracking Louis Lund, Lumian would definitely have provided such a rejoinder.
Opening the lid, she brought the pressed glass bottle to Lumianâs nose.
âRemember its scent.â
The perfume was refreshing and natural, akin to strolling through a forest on a summerâs day.
âGot it.â Lumian nodded slightly.
Franca proceeded to spray it on herself.
âIt has distinct top, middle, and base notes, but the differences are subtle. Thereâs no need to discern them specifically. Youâll know it by the scent alone.
âIâll position myself three to four meters away from Louis Lund. Without a houndâs nose, he wonât detect this fragrance that clearly doesnât belong to the market district.â
Lumian added thoughtfully, âSo, I am to track your perfume from a distance of ten to twenty meters?â
It was indeed a clever strategy.
âThatâs correct.â Franca produced a handful of fluorescent powder, sprinkling it over herself, and recited a deep incantation.
It appeared to be a fusion of the Hermes words for âhiddenâ and âbody.â
Almost instantaneously, Lumian witnessed Francaâs form gradually fading away, as if an eraser were obliterating a pencil drawing.
Apart from the lingering fragrance in his nostrils, he had completely lost track of the Witch.
Once again, Lumian marveled at the Demoness pathâs performance as a Low- to Mid-Sequence Beyonder.
In the blink of an eye, Lumian felt the fragranceâs source receding, drawing closer to the three-story building with a garden at 126 Avenue du MarchĂ©.
Lumian made his way in that direction, slipping into the shadows and pressing himself against the wall.
After nearly half an hour, a man named Louis Lund emerged, dressed in a red vest, blue uniform, white tie, and waxed hat. Accompanying him was âBlack Scorpionâ Roger, impeccably attired in a formal suit with neatly combed black hair.
One of them took the reins of the carriage, while the other entered inside.
Why is âBlack Scorpionâ Roger following him? Is he planning to meet Madame Pualis in person? Lumian furrowed his brow in slight confusion.
This introduced new variables to his plan.
Originally, Lumian intended to find an opportune moment during Louis Lundâs return journey. With his current strength, he could easily overpower his target, even if they were both Sequence 8s. Plus, he had the assistance of Witch Franca.
However, if âBlack Scorpionâ Roger joined the equation, things would become considerably more troublesome.
From the midwifeâs performance in his dream, Lumian deduced that a Heretic Spellmaster possessed numerous mystical techniques and considerable power. They were fully capable of matching a Witch from the Assassin pathway.
While Lumian could have Franca distract âBlack Scorpionâ Roger while he dealt with Louis Lund, the battle between two Mid-Sequence Beyonders wouldnât be swift, thus increasing the risk of discovery.
Hmm⊠If âBlack Scorpionâ Roger truly intends to meet Madame Pualis, Iâll follow him instead of attacking. My objective is to locate Madame Pualis and establish contact with her. Lumian swiftly revised his plan and devised a new strategy.
The rental carriage began its journey toward the opposite end of Avenue du Marché, and the refreshing, natural fragrance faded away.
Lumian hurried along beside the gas street lamps, maintaining a distance of nearly 20 meters.
After a while, he sensed the perfume come to a halt. Advancing another ten meters, he witnessed the rental carriage pulling over by the roadside. âBlack Scorpionâ Roger disembarked, carrying a wooden box.
Not far away stood Le Marché du Quartier du Gentleman.
Within a matter of seconds, Louis Lund directed the carriage toward a fork in the road, bypassing the bustling area. Meanwhile, âBlack Scorpionâ Roger ventured into the market alone.
Is Madame Pualis at Le MarchĂ© du Quartier du Gentleman? Or is âBlack Scorpionâ Roger merely escorting Louis Lund for a distance, concerned about potential targeting? Lumian speculated as he hastened forward.
Regardless, capturing Louis Lund took precedence!
Behind Le Marché du Quartier du Gentleman, there were only a few pedestrians. Under the pitch-black sky, occasionally, one could spot a lone figure.
Several street lamps here were out of order, leaving the road engulfed in darkness. It was wide enough for several carriages to pass side by side.
Lumian surveyed the surroundings, wasting no time. He removed his black-framed glasses and sprinted forward.
Before long, he caught up with the slowly moving carriage. As Louis Lund sensed the anomaly, he pushed down on the carriage with his left hand and lunged toward the driverâs seat.
From this distance, Lumian could clearly see the black-haired, blue-eyed face.
Though the other party had employed some disguise, Lumian was certain it was Louis Lund!
Reacting swiftly, Louis Lund, without bothering to ascertain the assailantâs identity or motives, seized the reins with his left hand and balled his right hand into a fist. Like a speeding cannonball, he launched an attack at Lumian, who was suspended in midair with no leverage to defend himself.
In that very moment, Louis Lund caught sight of Lumianâs unmasked face, his eyes widening in sheer shock.
Undeterred, Lumian didnât evade the blow. Instead, he extended his right arm and caught hold of Louis Lundâs fist.
Just as the impending collision seemed inevitable, Lumian retracted his arm, lessening the force behind the strike. Then, with a swift motion, he intertwined Louis Lundâs fists, wrists, and forearms as though he had boneless limbs. As a result, Louis Lund was sent flying backward but remained within the confines of the carriage.
In the blink of an eye, Louis Lund saw a smile on Lumianâs face.
Whack!
Franca materialized on the opposite side of the carriage driverâs seat, her palm poised to strike Louis Lundâs ear.
Under the formidable Beyonder powers unleashed by an Assassinâs full-strength blow, Louis Lund succumbed to unconsciousness without uttering a single sound.