Chapter 182 - 182 Truth Serum

182 Truth Serum

“What do you think, Madame Jenna?” Lumian grinned, throwing Jenna’s own words back at her.

“Damn it!” Jenna exclaimed, raising her hand in frustration before turning around with a scowl and storming back downstairs.

Lumian pondered for a few moments, tapping the table in front of him. He turned to Louis and Sarkota and said, “Bring me a glass of fennel absinthe.”

Being the “protector” of Salle de Bal Brise had its perks, and his meals here were on the house.

As he remembered that he had to hand over most of the dance hall’s profits to the Boss and bribe the police, Lumian felt less inclined to be frugal.

No matter how difficult things became, he couldn’t let himself suffer. He had to do his utmost to make the Boss suffer instead!

Lumian drank two glasses of the bitter, mind-altering light-green liquid and remained at Salle de Bal Brise until nearly midnight.

Standing up, he turned to Louis and Sarkota and declared, “I’m going to bed. Wait until the dance hall closes before you head home.

“If anyone causes trouble, throw them out. If you can’t handle them alone, gather everyone and be bold enough to take action. Don’t worry, I’ll take responsibility if anything goes wrong.”

What he left unsaid was: If I can’t handle the responsibility, I’ll leave it for the Boss to worry about.

Salle de Bal Brise stayed open until 2 a.m. every day, usually opening between 10:30 a.m. and 11 a.m.

“Yes, Boss,” Sarkota and Louis replied in unison.

Upon returning to his bedroom, Lumian lingered for another fifteen minutes before grabbing the brown suitcase containing Aurore’s grimoires. He squeezed out of the window and smoothly landed on the ground from the second floor.

He walked through the shadows, turning from Avenue du Marché into Rue des Blouses Blanches, and entered the safe house he had rented previously.

After hiding the grimoires and releasing some sulfur to repel the bugs, Lumian left the room and turned into an alley behind Rue des Blouses Blanches. He planned to take a detour to Auberge du Coq Doré, where he would spend the night.

After walking a dozen steps, he noticed a pile of trash beside a barricade.

Scavengers and cleaners wouldn’t come until the next morning to clean it up. At that moment, it had become a haven for rats, cockroaches, flies, and stray dogs.

Seeing the rats and stray dogs, Lumian suddenly remembered something.

Among the three metal canisters he had acquired from the perverted Hedsey, one remained unidentified.

I might as well give it a try… Lumian nodded to himself imperceptibly.

Relying on his exceptional skills, lightning-fast reflexes, nimble movements, and keen observation, he swiftly stepped on a rat with grayish-black fur. He crouched down, retrieved the slightly heavy metal canister, and poured some odorless, colorless liquid into the “prey’s” mouth.

The rat let out a quick squeak, but aside from that, nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Considering the pervert’s methods, I thought it might be an aphrodisiac, but it doesn’t seem like it… That makes sense. That pervert possesses Beyonder powers that stimulate desire. He wouldn’t need an additional canister with the same effect… Lumian lifted his right foot, watching as the rat scurried back to its companions. It joined the swarm while emitting continuous squeaks, but it didn’t do anything else.

Suddenly, a voice as clear as crystal rang out from behind him.

“What are you up to?”

Lumian whirled around and beheld “Red Boots” Franca emerging from the shadows at the far end of the alley.

She still sported her trademark red boots, off-white breeches, and a black-and-white checkered blouse. Her flaxen hair was neatly tied up.

Why are you here? Lumian was about to inquire, but he promptly recalled that Franca resided at 3 Rue des Blouses Blanches.

He could only respond honestly, “Conducting an experiment.”

“What kind of experiment?” Franca approached with curiosity.

Her eyes, resembling sparkling lakes, surveyed the rats before she let out a chuckle.

“Has your sister taught you to experiment on rats?”

“Are you referring to laboratory rats?” Lumian found it easy to converse with Franca. Many words required no further explanation.

He then said, “Didn’t Jenna inform you that after I disposed of the pervert, I obtained three metal canisters? One contained gas that could render people unconscious. I depleted it when I eliminated ‘Hammer’ Ait. The second canister contained an accompanying gaseous stimulant, and there’s still a fair amount left.

“The third canister holds a liquid. I’m unsure of its properties. Hence, I experimented on these rats.”

Understanding dawned on Franca’s face.

“So, it’s a leftover from that pervert.”

She then asked with anticipation, “Could it be an aphrodisiac?”

Why do you share my thoughts, Madame? Lumian gestured towards the squeaking rat, finding amusement in the situation.

“It doesn’t seem so. You appear somewhat disappointed?”

Franca didn’t conceal her feelings and let out a sigh.

“Indeed. If it were truly an aphrodisiac, how intriguing it would be.”

“If it were indeed an aphrodisiac, what would you want to use it for?” Lumian suddenly harbored suspicions that Franca intended to do something to Jenna.

Franca glanced at him.

“Damn it, are you accusing me in your mind? Do you think I have no moral boundaries?

“I hope it’s an aphrodisiac. My main curiosity lies in experiencing its effects and effectiveness. I would consume some myself and have Gardner try it as well. If his mistresses desire, they can partake too. Do you understand the pleasures of flirtation and amusement?”

“…” Lumian was momentarily at a loss for words. After a few seconds, he responded, “You Trierians certainly excel at games.”

“I’m not a Trierian,” Franca retorted, “but I concur with your statement.”

She turned her gaze towards the metal canister in Lumian’s grasp.

“Shall I assist you in discovering its properties?”

“Aren’t you concerned about the dangers?” Lumian was somewhat taken aback.

It remained uncertain whether this vial of liquid was a slow-acting poison or a vessel for curses!

Franca chuckled and replied, “You truly need to supplement your knowledge of mysticism.

“I intend to employ divination. Witches possess considerable divinatory abilities.”

Aurore’s grimoires made no mention of it. They solely documented the Witch’s Potion, which causes gender transformation. It speculates that every Witch excels in spells… Yes, those proficient in spells shouldn’t be lacking in divination… Lumian handed the liquid-filled canister to Franca.

Franca walked to the edge of the alley and halted behind a five-story building.

She extended her right hand and traced it back and forth on the dim glass window.

Simultaneously, she softly recited something in Hermes. Even with Lumian’s acute hearing, he could only catch a few words.

Spirituality… Inquiry… Answer…

A few seconds later, the glass window darkened and deepened, as though it led to an enigmatic, unknown world.

Franca stepped back, raised the metal canister, and spoke in Intis, “What is the purpose of the liquid inside?”

From the depths of the glass window, an aged voice responded, “Induces an urge to confess.”

Franca nodded, expressed gratitude, and concluded the divination.

As the glass window returned to its original state, she turned to Lumian and stated, “It appears to be a concoction akin to a truth serum.”

“Truth serum?” Lumian inquired.

Aurore had never mentioned such a term.

Franca casually explained, “It’s a serum that compels people to speak the truth.

“Once their desire to spill their secrets is triggered, along with the interrogator’s questioning, although there may be a fair amount of nonsense, it becomes exceedingly challenging to lie. What they utter should stem from their innermost desires.”

Confiding their desires… Similar to the pervert’s other abilities, involving diverse human yearnings… As expected of a boon from the Mother Tree of Desire… This could prove quite useful for a Beyonder like me, who lacks proficiency in spirit communication and divination… Lumian retrieved the metal canister from Franca.

Franca glanced around and queried with a smile, “Why did you choose Rue des Blouses Blanches for the experiment? Shouldn’t your activities be centered around Avenue du Marché and Rue Anarchie?”

Lumian withheld nothing.

“I rented a safe house here to safeguard my sister’s grimoires. I fear they may be damaged if I am targeted.”

“Very cautious,” Franca nodded approvingly. “Your sister is fortunate to have a brother like you. I used to have a brother too. He was conceited, enjoyed flaunting his skills, and lacked practicality. I yearned to teach him a lesson every day…”

She trailed off midway, her gaze falling upon her red boots.

Used to have. Does that imply he is no longer present? Lumian keenly sensed Franca’s unspoken meaning and promptly understood the reason behind her sudden despondency.

After a few seconds, Franca’s smile returned.

“Your sister must trust you too. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have revealed our organization to you. Although we never explicitly mentioned keeping the research society a secret from our families, hardly anyone ever discloses it. After all…”

Franca fell silent once more, her smile taking on a bitter tinge.

After all, what? Lumian was perplexed, but he refrained from asking. Instead, he simply elaborated on Aurore’s rationale.

“We were caught in a calamity back then, unsure of who would survive and who would perish. That’s why my sister divulged some secrets to me, hoping they would prove useful in the future.”

“Understood.” Franca nodded, regaining her composure. She smiled and remarked, “I thought you came to Rue des Blouses Blanches in search of me, eager to learn about mysticism.”

“It’s too late now.” Lumian was already feeling weary.

Franca clicked her tongue and chuckled.

“I won’t do anything to you. It’s too… too mad and shameful to engage in such activities with someone who knows my true gender.”

Is that so? I was afraid that once you got accustomed to it, the shame would only heighten your excitement… Lumian suspected that Franca, who could be swayed by the notion of “Life is short, why not give it a try,” would engage in more unforeseen endeavors.

After bidding farewell to the Demoness, he returned to Auberge du Coq Doré.

Nothing eventful occurred in Le Marché du Quartier du Gentleman until Thursday.

At 8 p.m., Lumian arrived at 19 Rue Scheer on Avenue du Boulevard and met Mr. K in the basement.

Mr. K gestured towards the three assistants holding silver trays behind him and stated, “There are a total of three mystical items, each priced between 15,000 verl d’or and 20,000. Make your selection.”