162 Fresh Corpse
Lumian crouched down, clutching the three metal canisters in his hands. He cast a glance at Jenna, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.
“I know just the way to confirm it.”
“What…” Jenna’s curiosity piqued, but soon a hint of nervousness and panic crept into her expression, triggered by Lumian’s enigmatic smile.
Unfazed by her reaction, Lumian responded with a smile of his own.
“Help me determine which canister is which,” he suggested.
“What sort of joke is this?” Jenna thought, grateful for the fact that had Lumian not saved her and aware of her own weakened state, she would have unleashed a stream of curses.
However, Lumian’s expression turned serious.
“Rest assured, if it contains the gas that knocks you out, the worst that can happen is you fainting again. I won’t harm you, and even if I wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to resist. Besides, once we ascertain which canister is which, I can use a stimulating gas to revive you and bring you back to normal.”
“If luck is on your side and you encounter the stimulating gas, you’ll regain most of your strength immediately,” Lumian added.
That makes sense. Regardless of the outcome, it can’t possibly be harmful. She was almost convinced by Lumian’s words.
However, snapping out of her daze, Jenna clenched her teeth and voiced her concerns.
“But what if you end up selecting the other canister? We have no idea what it contains!”
If it turned out to be poisonous gas, there was no one present with the knowledge to treat her.
Lumian responded with a mocking tone, a smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth, “Are you daft? Canisters filled mostly with gas and those containing liquid have a significant weight difference!”
“This particular bottle should be filled with liquid!”
He picked up one of the metal canisters and gave it a slight shake.
He “clearly” heard the unmistakable sloshing sound of liquid inside before pocketing it.
“Is that so…” Although Jenna had been mocked, her attention was focused on the “experiment,” and anger didn’t consume her.
After a few seconds of hesitation, she closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, determined.
“Go ahead, give it a try!”
Lumian stowed one of the metal bottles in his pants pocket, leaving only one in his grasp.
With a leisurely pace, he brought it near Jenna’s nose.
In the next moment, Jenna slowly cracked open her eyes.
In an instant, an intensely pungent odor, reminiscent of fermented excrement, assailed Jenna’s senses, causing her to sneeze repeatedly. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and her nose threatened to drip.
However, each sneeze served as a catalyst, restoring a significant portion of her strength. As Lumian sealed the canister and rose from his crouch, Jenna leaped to her feet, instinctively stretching her limbs.
Jenna happily adjusted her clothing and skirt, muttering to herself, “Seems like luck is on my side!”
On her first attempt, she managed to obtain the canister with the foul-smelling gas.
But then she noticed Lumian’s playful expression.
Jenna’s heart skipped a beat, sensing that something was off.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she inquired, “Did you already know which gas canister was which from the start?”
Is that the reason he was able to accurately select the metal canister containing the pungent gas?
Lumian grinned and handed the metal canister to Jenna.
“Smell the cap for yourself.”
Jenna eyed the canister suspiciously before cautiously sniffing the bottle.
A faint odor lingered, not particularly stimulating or potent, but still unpleasant.
“The other canister has no scent,” Lumian added with a smile.
Jenna’s flushed face turned an even deeper shade of red.
She felt foolish, having believed the words of the other party and willingly taken part in the so-called “experiment.”
Any feelings of gratitude she had prepared were instantly quashed.
Ignoring Jenna’s enraged state, Lumian pocketed the 8 verl d’or banknote and marked the metal canister with a scratch before stowing it away.
Though the man possessed the ability to sense the whereabouts of items that had once belonged to him, Lumian wasn’t afraid of being tracked since the man was already dead.
As for the function of the liquid in the remaining metal canister, he planned to test it on rats, stray dogs, and other animals.
Having completed the necessary tasks, Lumian pointed at the pervert’s lifeless body and instructed Jenna, “Take a good look at him and commit his face to memory. We’ll need to investigate who he is.”
“He probably has accomplices.”
“Alright.” Jenna strode toward the corpse, earnestly engraving his face into her memory.
After observing for a while, the recent events flooded back into her mind, fueling her anger. She raised her right leg and ruthlessly kicked the pervert’s groin.
Again and again, without restraint.
“Dogsh*t, pervert, damn your mother, damn your entire family!” Jenna vented her emotions to her heart’s content.
Lumian winced, feeling a twinge of pain, as he lowered his head to clean up the remnants at the scene.
Once Jenna had calmed down, he approached her with a large grayish-white cloth bag. As he stuffed the corpse and clothes inside, he casually inquired, “How did he abduct you?”
Jenna smoothed her disheveled brownish-yellow hair and tied it back into a simple ponytail.
Gritting her teeth, she recounted, “I encountered him in an alley next to the Salle de Bal Brise. He claimed to be a fan of my singing and asked for an autograph. The paper he handed me was sprinkled with that odorless gas. As soon as I signed it, I sensed something was wrong and lost most of my strength.
“After that, he attacked me, restrained me, and brought the bottle to my nose. That’s when I passed out.”
Lumian couldn’t help but mock, “Aren’t you being too careless?”
Jenna didn’t agree.
“I’ve seen him several times while singing. I was certain that he genuinely enjoyed listening to me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have given him the time of day.
“And, as an unknown singer, it’s an honor to have someone ask for your autograph…
“Besides, the gas doesn’t have any smell!”
How could anyone have guarded against this?
Lumian scoffed.
“That’s not what I meant. It’s obvious that the gas dissipates quickly on paper. It needs to be used within a short period of time to have a certain effect. In other words, that pervert has been tailing you for a while and has probably figured out your routines. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have cornered you so accurately in an empty alley and tainted the paper with the gas ten to twenty seconds in advance.
“Didn’t you notice despite being followed for so long?”
Jenna fell silent, at times clenching her teeth, at times frustrated.
Lumian shifted his gaze and chuckled.
It was understandable that she didn’t notice. That guy could discern hormonal information from different individuals.
If it weren’t for the fact that Monsieur Ive was clearly weaker than the pervert and probably hadn’t mastered the power of lust, Lumian would have suspected that his identity as a “robber” had been exposed.
He resealed the grayish-white cloth bag and used it to further erase any traces at the scene. Observing this, Jenna lent him a hand.
She’s quite skilled at dealing with evidence… Lumian glanced at Jenna and left the cave with the cloth bag slung over his back, harboring some suspicions.
Due to Jenna intentionally not mentioning her unusual behavior under the influence of the pervert, Lumian believed that this Showy Diva had some understanding of the Beyonder world, or she might even be one herself.
And her source of information or power most likely stemmed from “Red Boots” Franca from the Savoie Mob.
When Lumian arrived at his hiding spot, he ignited the carbide lamp and held it in his hand, glancing back at the depths of the path.
The path descended. There was darkness in the distance,
a void that swallowed everything as it lay in wait for its prey to approach.
“What are you looking at?” Jenna asked curiously.
She sensed that Ciel was acting mysterious.
Lumian ended his gaze and smiled.
“I’m wondering where we’ll end up if we keep going down. Perhaps the Trier from the Fourth Epoch?”
In reality, what he was truly pondering was:
The abnormal ability displayed just now was strikingly similar to Monsieur Ive’s. If the two of them were accomplices, would they instinctively choose a familiar place in the underground world for the crime? The same underground destination where Monsieur Ive had entered that night?
If that were the case, perhaps he would uncover something if he continued down this path.
Disappointed, Jenna remarked, “That’s not a good place.”
Lumian remained silent as he retraced his steps along the path. Lost in her own thoughts, Jenna followed silently, clutching the carbide lamp left behind by the pervert.
Just as he was about to reach the level that roughly replicated the layout aboveground, Lumian halted and said with a contemptuous smile, “Do you need me to escort you to the surface?”
“You’re not going back?” Jenna asked, surprised.
Lumian shrugged. “I need to find a suitable place to dispose of this corpse.”
Jenna nodded and refrained from prying further. “I can ascend on my own. I’ve been underground before.”
Does that imply you possess the means to protect yourself? Lumian watched Jenna depart with light footsteps, inwardly sighing.
Does every human and dog in Trier have access to Beyonder powers?
Is something amiss with Trier, or is something amiss with me? Why do I always encounter such individuals?
Shaking his head, he hoisted the corpse onto his back. As he dealt with the footprints, he made his way toward the hidden quarry cave where he had previously sought the boon.
Along the way, he performed two instances of anti-tracking to ensure no one was tailing him.
Upon reaching the underground quarry cave, Lumian tossed aside the grayish-white cloth bag containing the corpse and arranged the altar.
Initially, he had intended to visit the nearest hospital morgue during the night to acquire fresh corpses, but now he had a better option!
After setting up the altar, lighting the candles, and constructing a wall of spirituality, Lumian retrieved the pre-drawn faux goatskin adorned with the corresponding symbol.
The central pattern on the paper consisted of a ring formed by thorns, encircled by symbols representing eyes, curves, and rivers.
Just tracing these patterns in Room 207 had drained Lumian’s spirituality.
With the faux goatskin in place, Lumian took two steps back and gazed at the flickering candles, preparing for the subsequent incantation.
In this ritual, one couldn’t employ the phrase “I! I summon in my name” to beseech oneself. Instead, they had to craft a three-line description of their being and feign the role of a creature from the spirit world.
It could be done in any manner, devoid of any wielding of authority, as long as it could pinpoint the location within the wall of spirituality.
Lumian parted his lips and muttered in Hermes, “Cordu Village’s Trickster King, Aurore Lee’s younger brother, an entity known as Lumian Lee…”