Chapter 525 - 525 Repair Fee

525 Repair Fee

525 Repair Fee

Lumian wasn’t sure if he should attribute the misfortune of Demon Warlock Burman taking the banknotes, coins, and gold from the safe to the Symphony of Hatred. After all, he hadn’t arrived at 16 Rue Coreas and hadn’t utilized General Philip’s blackened bone flute. Its abilities likely weren’t potent enough to rewind the past.

However, Fidel, living up to his title as a prominent merchant, had numerous wallets stashed in various clothes. Lumian conducted a quick search, revealing a total of 30,000 verl d’or.

This provided a modicum of relief for his “psychological injury.”

Upon hearing the arrival of a carriage outside, Lumian left Fidel’s bedroom and turned to the adjacent room. He suspected it was the patrolling constables here to investigate the recent explosion.

The room was clean and tidy, yet a faint, uncomfortable smell lingered—the stench of decaying corpses.

Entering the room felt like stepping into a catacomb, surrounded by the marks of his own kind and their deaths, creating an uneasy atmosphere.

This should be Demon Warlock Burman’s room. It allows him to protect Fidel in the shortest time possible, heh heh, but he ultimately killed him… This story tells us that the most important condition for choosing a bodyguard is mental stability… Lumian mused as he surveyed every corner of the room.

At that moment, the constables had already pushed open the house’s door, revealing spilled blood and scattered flesh.

One of them swiftly drew his revolver, while the other blew a whistle, producing a piercing sound.

Lumian’s gaze focused on the blackened marks in the room. The blood, suspected to be old, emitted a sinister aura.

“Burman once killed a special creature in this room to complete a resurrection experiment?” Lumian muttered to himself.

He didn’t assume it was Demon Warlock Burman’s blood because he believed that the other party wouldn’t leave behind such a crucial item when he had enough time.

If a Beyonder skilled in curses obtained it, Burman would be in grave danger unless he had a way to sever the connection in advance.

In contrast, Burman’s blood and flesh were more likely to be found in the master bedroom of Room 5 of the Flying Bird’s first-class cabin. The Demon Warlock had suffered severe injuries from the explosion and the flames.

Of course, the blanket explosion and subsequent intense combustion might have rendered the ingredients for cursing inactive.

Lumian crouched down and retrieved a glass bottle from his Traveler’s Bag. He scraped away the black marks on the wall and stored them inside.

After completing his task, Lumian cleared any potential traces—hair, skin, and other items. He activated the black mark on his right shoulder and vanished from 16 Rue Coreas before more constables and official Beyonders arrived.

Upon returning to the Flying Bird, he immediately inspected the previous battlefield, now reduced to ruins, scattered with charred and shattered remnants. Metal walls bore marks of distortions and minor cracks, remnants of the intense encounter.

The lingering gasses from the burning carpet and items slowly dissipated through the open window.

After Burman triggered the trap at the exit, the Bottle of Fiction had dissipated.

Lumian focused on examining the windowsill, finding charred remnants.

Phew… Exhaling deeply, he departed Room 5 of the first-class cabin, descending to the deck.

Philip, the security supervisor, leaned against the shipboard, gazing at the night view.

Where’s your lover?” Lumian approached Philip, resting his hands on the shipboard.

Philip sighed and replied, “Her destination is Port Farim. Apparently, she was heading to a relative’s plantation to assist them.”

“Something to celebrate. This means you’ll have a new lover,” Lumian said, adopting the tone of a Dandyism believer.

“Please allow me to be downcast for another two days,” Philip responded, not objecting to Lumian’s words but emphasizing his invested feelings.

Of course, it was just a little.

“Did you just return from the port? Why didn’t I see you board the ship?” Philip inquired, following his professional instincts.

“I’ve been in my room the whole time. There was a minor accident at the party just now that set the master bedroom ablaze. Many things were burned. Get someone to fix it promptly tomorrow,” Lumian explained, seeking Philip’s assistance in resolving the situation. Despite the possibility of staying in the fire-damaged room, Lumian preferred to take action to rectify the situation.

Philip appeared confused. “Party… Ablaze… What did you do in the room? I didn’t hear anything…”

Lumian grinned and responded, “A passionate guest made an appearance. Their actions were a bit extreme.”

“Really?” Philip inquired subconsciously.

“No,” Lumian admitted straightforwardly. “Do you want to hear the real reason?”

Philip fell silent. After a few seconds, he said, “There’s a need for compensation for such damage. We’ll charge you the repair fee.

“Fortunately, we’re still in Port Farim. We can replenish various items immediately. Otherwise, it would have been quite troublesome.”

Lumian handed over a stack of banknotes.

“This is the repair fee. I hope it can be completed by tomorrow. If it’s too much, consider it a tip. If it’s too little, ask me for more.”

Philip took the money, frowning as he weighed the stack of banknotes.

“What did you do to the bedroom?”

Why is he giving so much for the repairs?

Is this hush money?

Lumian smiled, turned around, and returned to Room 5 of the first-class cabin.

Observing him disappear through the cabin entrance, Philip counted the stack of banknotes under the crimson moonlight and the gas street lamps at the port.

“2,000 verl d’or? Did he blow up that room?” Philip was shocked and suspicious.

But I didn’t hear anything…

That night, Lumian slept in a recliner in the living room.

Initially planning to summon Jenna’s Rabbit Chasel and write Franca a letter about the Demon Warlock, seeking her help with Magic Mirror Divination to identify the source of the old blood in Burman’s room. However, he remembered that Franca might still be awake while Jenna was already asleep.

Patiently waiting until the morning, Lumian set up the ritual using “Rabbit-

shaped spirit that wanders about the unfounded, a runner who pursues knowledge, a messenger that belongs solely to the Seven of Cups” to summon the book-holding transparent creature resembling a rabbit with powerful legs.

Today’s Rabbit Chasel, unlike the last time, wore a pair of indistinct gold-

rimmed glasses.

Handing the letter and the glass bottle containing the blood and powder to Rabbit Chasel, Lumian asked curiously, “Why are you suddenly wearing glasses? Is this the downside of knowledge?”

Behind the gold-rimmed glasses, Rabbit Chasel’s eyes glinted sharply.

“No, I learned this from a novel given by the Seven of Cups.”

“What novel did she give you?” Lumian inquired, having a hunch.

“The last time I helped you deliver a letter to her, she didn’t have any other books with her, so she could only lend me one of her newly purchased collections.” Rabbit Chasel adjusted its gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of its nose. “That novel is called ‘The Adventurer 1: First Show of Strength.'”

As expected, Lumian thought. So, that’s why you learned to wear glasses? He didn’t know how to comment on this matter.

After Rabbit Chasel left, Ludwig and Lugano woke up one after another,

with the former casting a glance at Lumian’s bedroom before eating his pre-

breakfast snacks. Lugano, however, seemed puzzled.

“Was there a fire last night?”

Why don’t I know?

Lumian chuckled.

“It happened while you were engrossed with a certain lady. I quickly resolved it.”

“Is that so…” Lugano reined in his disbelief.

Choosing to explore local delicacies in Port Farim rather than enjoying the ship’s breakfast, Lumian disembarked.

Shortly after, Philip, the security supervisor, arrived with a dining cart.

Standing in the doorway of the charred bedroom, Philip was stunned.

You call this a minor accident?

Even if it was blasted by cannons, it couldn’t be in a worse state, right?

Was he planning to dismantle the entire ship?

Uh, such destructive power actually didn’t affect the room’s exterior. Even the damage to the walls is within repairable limits… I didn’t hear anything either…

What had Louis Berry done in the room last night?

No wonder he gave 2,000 verl d’or!

At that instant, Philip’s blood surged into his brain.

…

In the Sun Square open-air market of Port Farim, Lumian enjoyed a tortilla filled with various fruit cubes and sipped a peculiar coffee laced with salt as he leisurely strolled through the stalls.

Occasionally, he treated himself to a roasted sausage, relishing the sizzling, oily delicacy.

Approaching the end of the open-air market, he encountered Batna Comté.

The well-dressed adventurer’s eyes lit up as he approached Lumian and whispered, “Something happened to your employer!”

Curious, Lumian inquired, “What happened?”

He wanted to know how the official Beyonders had publicized this matter.

“It’s that Demon Warlock. He killed Fidel’s family and all his servants!” Batna’s relief was evident; he hadn’t been present yesterday and was glad to have avoided potential danger.

The evidence does seem to point toward the Demon Warlock… The authorities must have shared all the details… Lumian smiled at Batna and remarked, “So, everyone at 16 Rue Coreas fell victim to the Demon Warlock?”

“Yes,” Batna confirmed with a solemn nod.

Lumian glanced at him and joked, “Remember how I blindfolded myself yesterday, hoping fate would guide me to uncover clues left behind by a Demon Warlock? Do you recall where we ended up?”

Batna was momentarily taken aback before muttering, “16 Rue Coreas…”

Suddenly, he looked up at Lumian in shock and fear.