231 Mr. K’s Purpose
Jenna’s eyes darted around, her arm raised in the air.
“This is a requirement for my theater acting class!”
Her words seemed to ease her tension, and her smile took on a more natural quality.
“Didn’t I mention that I work part-time as a waitress at a bar to make ends meet? This is my boss. I’m here to discuss a salary increase with him!”
Jenna pointed confidently at Lumian, stationed by the door of Room 207.
Elodie glanced at Lumian, then fixed her gaze on Jenna for a few moments before nodding. “Don’t forget to come home tonight.”
Jenna’s smile faltered momentarily before she replied, “Okay.”
Seeing Elodie return to her tasks, cleaning the other side of the second floor, Jenna tiptoed down the stairs and made her way out of Auberge du Coq Doré.
It didn’t take long for her to spot Lumian catching up to her, prompting her to grumble, “Dammit! Why is my mother at Auberge du Coq Doré?”
Lumian contemplated for a moment before responding. “Blame it on Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons. Monsieur Ive, the owner of Auberge du Coq Doré, found a part-time cleaning lady who works only half a day there. And your mother is a regular visitor at Théatre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons for plays.”
Jenna clenched her teeth and exclaimed, “Those cursed heretics!”
She then threw up her arm.
“Tonight, I’ll tell her the truth. I’ll say I’m working part-time as an underground singer to save up for next year’s tuition, and I earn quite a bit!”
Lumian glanced at Jenna’s side profile, curious. “You don’t seem too nervous or afraid?”
Jenna spat.
“That’s my mother, not some man-eating monster.
“She’s kind-hearted and understanding. I didn’t tell her what I was up to before because I didn’t want her to worry.”
“She’ll worry now, though,” Lumian reminded her.
Being an underground singer in dance halls and bars often involved dealing with shady characters. Being taken advantage of was an unfortunate reality from time to time.
Jenna’s smile was mischievous as she playfully remarked, “I’m the mistress of Ciel Dubois, leader of the Savoie Mob and guardian of Salle de Bal Brise. Who dares to mess with me?”
Lumian chuckled. “That’s even more dangerous.”
Jenna averted her gaze and observed the street vendors on Rue Anarchie.
“If my mother can’t accept it, I plan to demonstrate my current abilities and convince her that I can protect myself.”
Oh, really? Lumian didn’t raise the example of the perverted Hedsey.
Jenna composed herself and said in a heavy voice, “She’s been through so much. She has worked tirelessly for years. I want to help her shoulder some of the burden so she won’t break herself.”
Lumian contemplated for a moment before responding. “Since your father’s passing?”
Jenna’s gaze shifted to the ground, and she tersely confirmed, “There was an accident at the factory. My father was severely injured and spent over ten days in the hospital. In the end, he couldn’t be saved.”
“We used up all our savings and still owe a significant amount of money. A few years ago, I could have pursued a career in theater and studied acting. But it wasn’t until the beginning of this year that we managed to repay almost half of our debt and save up some money for my education. My mother insisted that we couldn’t delay any longer. If we kept delaying, I would become too old.”
Lumian listened attentively, his brow furrowing in puzzlement. “No compensation for the factory accident?”
“Yes, but that scoundrel hasn’t compensated us yet!” Jenna clenched her teeth. “He keeps appealing, and the courts always take their time. F*cking dammit, is he trying to drag it out until we’re all dead?”
Lumian fell silent briefly before changing the subject. “Was your mother truly a theater actress?”
“That’s correct.” Jenna’s expression softened gradually. “She had great acting skills and was beautiful, but most theater managers, sponsors, and owners were men. They would prey on actresses in the theater like lions patrolling their territory. Those who refused to submit to them wouldn’t get good roles. It’s infuriating, everyone thinks it’s normal, even the police and the courts!
“My mother has a gentle nature, but she’s fiercely stubborn. She could only land supporting roles and was even fired once. When the theater she worked at went bankrupt, she lost the chance to return to the stage temporarily. She had to take on odd jobs as a motel maid and laundry worker.
“That’s when she met my father. They got together and became husband and wife in the presence of God. Praise the Sun. At that time, my father was working hard to become a skilled laborer. My mother took on various jobs and saved money while searching for an opportunity to return to the theater. Those were the days she cherished the most.
“Later, my brother and I were born. Mom and Dad became busier, struggling to make ends meet and give us a chance to pursue an education.
“When we became self-sufficient, my mother was already old and couldn’t return to the stage. She placed her hopes on me. She wanted to see me become an exceptional actress, even if it meant playing supporting roles. My father wished for my brother to become a skilled laborer.”
These words had been bottled up inside Jenna’s heart for a long time, and only now did she find the opportunity to express them.
Lumian patiently waited for Jenna to finish before posing a question. “Do you aspire to be a theater actress yourself?”
Jenna beamed with pride and contentment. “It’s hard not to love theater when your mother is such a dedicated fan and talented actress.”
Her smile inexplicably evoked a twinge of jealousy in Lumian.
Sighing with a touch of emotion, he remarked, “I can tell that your mother has a genuine passion for theater. Even as a cleaning lady, she adorns herself with makeup and wears exquisite wigs.”
Jenna lightly nodded and shared, “She says it makes her feel youthful, as if she’s back on the stage. In her eyes, she remains a true theater actress, and her other jobs are merely part-time endeavors.
“She’s always been like this. She takes me to witness the sunrise, reminding me that darkness will always give way to light. And she tells me that even in the darkest times, I must find a way to kindle my own inner light. Only then can I patiently await the sunrise.”
Jenna’s yearning for the future grew palpable.
“If I continue as an underground singer for another year, I’ll save enough for next year’s tuition and make significant progress in repaying our debts. With the combined earnings of my mother and brother, we won’t be burdened anymore. Soon, she won’t have to juggle multiple jobs, and my brother will have the opportunity to learn skills from others!”
As Jenna spoke, her excitement grew, and she couldn’t help but raise her arm, as if reaching out to grasp the beauty of the future
Lumian observed Jenna silently, and a wave of pent-up emotions within him seemed to dissipate.
Hope. Such a profound and moving word.
After a few moments of relief, Jenna suddenly felt an inexplicable sense of embarrassment. She turned her head and gave Lumian an accusing glare.
“Why are you staring at me? Haven’t you seen someone getting excited before?”
Lumian scoffed but chose not to respond.
Jenna studied him intently and muttered to herself, “Why do I feel like you’re in better spirits?”
“No,” Lumian replied succinctly.
At that moment, the two of them had already entered Avenue du Marché. Posters celebrating Hugues Artois’s successful election as a member of parliament adorned the surroundings.
Hugues Artois, the joint support of the Savoie Mob and the Poison Spur Mob, has indeed become a member of parliament… I wonder what changes he will bring to the market district… Lumian averted his gaze from the poster, his mind echoing Franca’s words: Lady Moon, a follower of the Great Mother, believed that Hugues Artois was an open-minded individual.
…
In the afternoon, prior to embarking on his journey to Avenue du Boulevard in search of Mr. K, Lumian arranged an altar in the second-floor bedroom of Salle de Bal Brise.
With the wall of spirituality in place, Lumian proceeded to light three candles in the order from deity to mankind, left to right. After carefully dripping essential oils and extracts, he took a couple of steps back, enveloped in a misty atmosphere, and intoned in a deep voice,”The Fool that doesn’t belong to this era, the mysterious ruler above the gray fog; the King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck.”
A faint gray fog arose, accompanied by an unsettling aura.
Suppressing the sluggishness of his thoughts and the tingling sensation beneath his skin, Lumian fixed his gaze upon the bluish-black flame of the candle. Following the instructions of Madam Magician, he recited the subsequent incantation in the ancient language of Hermes.
“I implore you, I implore your protection…”
After a series of gestures, Lumian caught sight of the divine angel, seemingly materialized from pure light.
Simultaneously, he faintly heard a dreamy sigh.
A sigh originating from an infinite height.
Descending from above in resplendent and ethereal form, the angel extended its arms to embrace Lumian.
Wings of radiant light enveloped him.
When Lumian regained consciousness, everything had returned to its usual state.
…
As evening descended upon 19 Rue Scheer, Avenue du Boulevard, Lumian once again found himself in the basement, face-to-face with Mr. K.
Clad in his customary voluminous hood and black robe, Mr. K sat silently upon a chair with a crimson backrest.
Meeting Lumian’s gaze, Mr. K nodded gently and spoke in a low, raspy voice, “I am highly pleased with your adeptness in action. What’s more, unknowingly, your actions align with the teachings of my lord, countering those Blessed of evil beings!”
Pausing momentarily, Mr. K inquired, “Have you given it sufficient thought?”
“Yes, I have,” Lumian replied, lowering his head. “You have revealed to me the magnificence of the Lord.”
“Haha!” Mr. K burst into a maniacal laughter, as if his sanity had slipped away.
After a few seconds, he regained composure and disregarded the attendants, ensuring they stayed put. He continued, “My lord’s honorific name is the Lord that created everything, the omnipotent and omniscient God, the Lord who reigns behind the curtain of shadows, the ruler of the mind world, and the degenerated nature of all living things. Choose any three and entreat Him in Hermes.”
The mere description by Mr. K caused Lumian’s garments, skin, flesh, and bones to dissolve completely, leaving behind an unnerving sensation of pure consciousness and self-awareness.
Involuntarily trembling, Lumian instinctively recited, “The Lord that created everything, the omnipotent and omniscient God, the Lord who reigns behind the curtain of shadows…”
Lumian’s mind was too overwhelmed to deliberate, and he unconsciously selected the first three phrases.
Almost instantly, his surroundings darkened, as if enshrouded by a heavy curtain.
Beyond the illusory and profound shadowed veil, a pair of eyes fixated upon Lumian, penetrating his consciousness and nearly rendering him unconscious.
After an indeterminate period, Lumian regained his faculties, his body drenched in cold sweat.
Rising from his seat, Mr. K’s deep voice seemed laced with a smile.
“Henceforth, you are our brother, truly one of us.
“We’re a secret organization that believes in the True Creator. We go by the name of the Aurora Order.”
“Aurora Order?” Lumian was taken aback.
Isn’t this the terrorist organization that took the blame for me?
It seems that the official Beyonders did not misidentify their target…
I have truly become a member of the Aurora Order…
Dismissing the attendants from the basement, Mr. K addressed Lumian, “Gardner Martin is a member of the Iron and Blood Cross Order. This secret organization once revered our lord, but in recent years, they have distanced themselves from us and ceased their frequent prayers. They appear to be plotting something of great significance.
“I have assigned you to infiltrate their ranks, for I hope you can discover the cause behind their actions and unravel their intentions.”