288 Self-Recommendation

In the city of Trier, prosthetic eyes were not a common sight, but there were still a fair number of people who wore them. But Jenna and Franca had never seen anyone take mechanizing a quarter of their faces for a prosthetic eye to this extent.

However, when they recalled that the monk was suspected to be from the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery, it made sense. Fanatical devotion to machinery was their hallmark!

Carrying a carbide lamp and wearing a white apron like a stonemason, the monk entered the tunnel step by step. His emerald-green prosthetic eye, surrounded by gears and springs, seemed to possess a life of its own as it rotated left and right, scanning the surroundings.

Franca tugged at Jenna, signaling for her not to look towards the tunnel. She was to quickly avert her gaze to avoid detection.

The two of them slunk deeper into the shadows, hiding beyond the reach of the carbide lamp’s light.

The gray-robed, hooded monk from the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery advanced slowly, surveying his surroundings as he approached the bottom of Deep Valley Quarry, the area that had collapsed and been buried.

Thanks to their Assassin abilities and the cover of darkness, Jenna and Franca remained undetected. They waited until the monk was far away before quietly peeking out from their hiding spot, eyes fixed on his back.

The monk stopped beside the collapsed area, extending his right palm which glinted with an iron-like metallic sheen, grasping a protrusion on the wall.

A grinding sound echoed as if multiple massive gears were slowly rotating and meshing.

The stone wall cracked open as metal chains extended out from behind each rock. The rocks bloomed like flowers, revealing a dark cave behind.

With the help of the monk’s carbide lamp and their eagle-eyed Assassin vision, Franca and Jenna could see a thin white fog inside the cave and arms and legs embedded in the rock walls—human arms and legs!

Some were still fresh while others had shriveled, but there were no signs of decay.

Jenna and Franca exchanged shocked and fearful looks.

As the monk entered the cave and triggered a mechanism, the metal chains relaxed, allowing the rocks to return to their original positions, leaving only faint cracks as signs of the hidden entrance.

So that’s how it is… I assumed the cracks were from a collapse, so I didn’t inspect them… Franca realized why they hadn’t noticed anything amiss before.

She tugged Jenna’s arm and whispered, “Let’s get out of here first and come back another time.”

Having discovered the secret and knowing how to open it, there was no need to confront the monk from the God of Steam and Machinery Church directly. They could return later!

Jenna nodded slightly, twirled the Ring of Punishment on her finger, and crouched down. She followed Franca away from their hiding spot and back through the tunnel to the entrance of Deep Valley Quarry.

Seeing Jenna about to open the door, Franca quickly stopped her and whispered, “No hurry.”

“Why?” Jenna asked, puzzled.

Franca straightened instinctively and smiled.

“Just because one monk went in doesn’t mean he’s alone. Perhaps there are two companions outside, guarding against intruders. If we stroll out casually, we might expose ourselves and get attacked! Besides, the gatekeeper could be awake already.”

Jenna looked a little abashed. “You’re right.”

Franca consoled her immediately, “It’s just experience. Now you know better for the future.”

She took out a palm-sized mirror and handed it to Jenna. “Help me carry this. I’ll scout ahead. If I get ambushed, take the chance to hide in the shadows by the door and sneak out with the mirror.”

Realizing Franca intended to use Mirror Substitution, Jenna agreed without hesitation.

Franca carefully opened the heavy wooden door a crack and peeked out.

The only sounds were chirping insects and frogs. All was still otherwise.

The door opened wider and Franca slipped out into the darkness beyond the crimson moonlight’s reach.

Jenna gripped the mirror tightly, tense and ready.

After more than ten seconds, Franca returned and whispered, “It’s clear, let’s go.”

Jenna exhaled in relief and darted out, closing the door silently behind them.

As they left the quarry, they glanced at the rock-walled “hut” and saw the gatekeeper still asleep, but in a different posture.

From a distance, Franca noticed a red and swollen mark under his ear. “He was knocked out, not drugged…” she murmured with a frown.

Jenna recalled the cybernetic-eyed monk and pointed at the quarry door. “The one inside did it?”

Franca nodded gently. “Very likely. He doesn’t want the gatekeeper to know he’s here. Poor man, he probably fainted again before the sedative wore off.”

Jenna smiled. “Or someone else knocked him out before we got here. Someone might have used some other method to knock him out.”

“…” Franca paused, then sighed sympathetically. “If so, I feel bad for him.”

Oblivious to each other, every group had dealt with the gatekeeper their own way. As a result, the poor man remained unconscious repeatedly.

Wasting no time, Jenna and Franca slipped away under the cover of the night.



Avenue du Marché, Salle de Bal Brise.

Lumian returned to the café upstairs, ordered a glass of red wine, and sipped it slowly.

After a while, Louis came up and whispered, “Boss, some bounty hunters are causing trouble at Salle de Gristmill, demanding a cut of the profits.”

With the Poison Spur Mob’s upper ranks destroyed, some remnants had been arrested, some had fled, some joined other mobs, and some found legitimate work. Their former businesses had been taken over at low prices by various factions.

The Savoie Mob got the largest share but now lacked manpower. Some industries operated fairly independently. Occasionally, opportunists tried to take advantage of the “power vacuum.”

Lumian cracked his knuckles and grinned. “Send word asking if they want to be my enemies or my dogs.”

He realized that after becoming a Pyromaniac, he had grown more aggressive. Itching for a fight after so long, his hands twitched in anticipation.

Furthermore, for someone to dare challenge a dance hall nominally belonging to the Savoie Mob, there might be one or two Beyonders among the bounty hunters. Lumian’s Shadow Branch lacked a corresponding Beyonder characteristic.

“Yes, Boss!” Louis replied eagerly before hurrying downstairs to send the “invitation.”

Lumian had planned to return to Auberge du Coq Doré to write Madam Magician but now waited patiently.

In less than half an hour, Louis returned with a man.

He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, wearing a cheap suit and black top hat. With brown hair, brown eyes, refined features, and a burly build, he could have been a protagonist at the Théâtre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons

Seeing Lumian, the man smiled, doffed his hat, and greeted, “Good evening, Boss.”

“Who are you?” Lumian asked with an amiable smile.

The man replied solemnly, “Boss, didn’t you ask me to be your dog?”

“…” Momentarily stunned, even the quick-witted Lumian needed a few seconds to respond.

He had said it purely to provoke them and see if they would retaliate.

After recovering, Lumian chuckled. “I told you to be a dog, and you’ll really do it?”

“This is my big chance!” The man didn’t seem ashamed at all, rather honored. “I believe following you will let me achieve my true worth. In time, I could even become your godson!”

How old are you? You’re more fawning than “Giant” Simon… Interested, Lumian asked, “Why do you think I’ll give you a chance?”

The man didn’t answer immediately but glanced meaningfully at Louis and Sarkota, hinting for them to leave.

Unworried about assassination attempts, Lumian had them exit before smiling at the man. “Go on.”

The man cleared his throat. “My name is Lugano Toscano, a Beyonder.”

“Which pathway? What Sequence?” Lumian’s eyebrows rose.

Lugano forced a smile. “I’m a Planter, Sequence 9.”

Earth Mother Church’s pathway? Lumian nodded thoughtfully. “From Feynapotter?”

“No, Riston Province,” Lugano replied, smiling. “A few years ago, some friends and I became bounty hunters. I got to know a Feynapotter Beyonder and later acquired his belongings when he passed away.”

A fellow countryman… Did you kill him or just conveniently profit from his death? Lumian gestured for him to continue.

Lugano chuckled. “I can now advance to Sequence 8 Doctor but lack funds for the potion ingredients. I’ve heard of your exploits, Boss, and believe you to be a powerful Beyonder. I also know the Savoie Mob lacks manpower, so I caused some trouble to meet you. I hope to work for you, help manage your estates, and earn money through hard work. Doctors are useful for ordinary people and Beyonders alike.”