362 Lie
Lumian hesitated briefly before touching the silver mask. He carefully opened the letter and began to read the elegant handwriting, which was quite different from Madam Magician’s.
“This is the promised reward.
“Lie:
“It allows you to truly transform your appearance, adjusting your form within a certain range, and altering your height.
“At the same time, it grants you the ability to use Flame Controlling and Damage Transfer like a Magician. You’ll also have an enhanced sense of danger, as well as improved balance and agility.
“It can change its appearance at will. It can become anything you desire.
“But, when you wear it, your emotions will be amplified. You must learn to control yourself, or there will be significant problems.
“Also, remember:
“Don’t lose yourself in Lie.”
It’s actually portable without any negative effects? Lumian’s initial reaction after reading the letter wasn’t one of delight that Lie’s effects suited his needs but rather one of surprise that the mystical item’s negative effects were far weaker than he had imagined.
It only amplified one’s emotions when worn!
In other words, Lumian could store it in a bag, wallet, or any other container and carry it with him at all times without facing any side effects.
Compared to Lie, Decency had to be ensconced in liquor, making it rather troublesome to retrieve and safeguard. Flog also exerted an influence while being carried.
With a sigh, Lumian couldn’t help but make a self-deprecating remark.
Why does it always have to be something that messes with my emotions?
With this combination, even Alms Monk would explode on the spot…
This combination of dark corruption from the contracted creatures, the fluctuations in desire stemming from Flog, and the “gift” bestowed by the Blood Emperor Alista Tudor was sure to wreak havoc on his emotions. When you added Lie to the mix, the equation became something like 1+1+1+14.
Having just finished psychiatric treatment for his past wounds and painful memories and returning to his normal state, Lumian realized that if he wanted to avoid descending into madness and losing control, he shouldn’t let Flog’s boxing gloves and Lie take effect simultaneously.
Lie is meant for the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society gatherings. It’s for socializing; I don’t need Flog for that. And when I’m not using Lie, I have the Niese Face to replace it, Lumian thought, pondering for a moment before tossing the satchel containing the Flog boxing gloves onto the bed.
After this decision, he reached for the silver Lie mask and covered his face.
The mask began to melt, its silvery substance seeping into Lumian’s skin like mercury, completely enveloping his head.
In an instant, everything began to shift and transform. Lumian’s contours and facial features swiftly adjusted.
Before long, the silvery liquid seemed to be absorbed or evaporated, and Lumian’s skin returned to normal, now even fairer than before.
Then, his body underwent a sudden change, and his white shirt strained against his bulging chest.
Lumian lowered his head and scrutinized his appearance for a few seconds before muttering to himself, There’s a limit of 10 centimeters for becoming shorter or taller…
I used to be 1.76 meters tall, just 8 centimeters taller than Aurore, but now I’m 1.81 meters tall. Yes, three centimeters of difference shouldn’t be noticeable to ordinary people. Besides, it is quite normal for both men and women to use special shoes to appear taller…
I can even imitate voices. That’s all part of the true transformation of one’s appearance…
With his loose pants and a snug shirt, Lumian left Room 207 and entered the washroom, casting his gaze at the mirror.
A beautiful woman stared back at him in the mirror. She had long, thick blond hair, light-blue eyes, a tall, delicate nose, and red lips as bright as the morning sun.
The details of her facial features and the contours of her face continued to subtly change for dozens of seconds before settling into their final form.
Lumian gazed at the woman in the mirror, his eyes gradually softening as the corners of his mouth curled up.
After a few seconds, he chuckled and said, “Long time no see, Aurore.”
…
Franca, returning from Rue des Fontaines, gracefully opened the door to Apartment 601.
What she saw when she entered left her stunned—a face identical to her own.
This person had a flaxen ponytail, bright, smiling lake-colored eyes, brown eyebrows that reached her temples, and thin red lips…
Franca’s tension was palpable as she blurted out, “Who are you? Why are you impersonating me?”
The doppelganger also pointed at her and said, “Who are you? Why are you impersonating me?”
In exasperation, Franca laughed and secretly wrapped the spider silk she released around the imposter.
In an instant, crimson flames erupted, igniting the invisible threads around them.
Franca immediately understood the truth. She pointed at the fake Franca and said, “You Six-Eared Macaque, how dare you impersonate me!”
The fake Franca’s face squirmed as she transformed back into Lumian.
His body grew taller.
After removing the Lie earring, Lumian asked curiously, “What’s a six-eared macaque?”
Franca hesitated for a moment, debating whether to keep it a secret, but then she realized that Lumian already knew everything he needed to know. There was no need to hide such trivial details.
She replied, “Back home, there are many myths and legends for your sister and me. The Six-Eared Macaque is one of them. It can hear all your secrets and become identical to you.”
Without waiting for Lumian’s response, Franca asked excitedly, “Did you acquire a mystical item that can alter your appearance and figure?”
Lumian raised his left hand, wrapped in a few white bandages, and replied, “Can’t you see I’m injured? I accepted Madam Justice’s commission and helped her retrieve an object from the fourth level of the catacombs. This is the reward: Lie.”
As he spoke, Lumian flicked the earring-shaped mystical item with his right hand.
“Is that so?” Franca had suspected that Lumian’s visit to the catacombs was likely arranged by the Tarot Club, so she hadn’t inquired further in front of Jenna.
Curious, she asked, “What was the object?”
Lumian pondered for a moment and realized that neither Madam Magician, Madam Justice, nor Madame Hela had asked him to keep it a secret. Hence, he replied, “The spring water of the Samaritan Women’s Spring.”
“Is there really a Samaritan Women’s Spring?” Franca was astonished.
She had read Trier’s mysticism magazines and heard rumors about the Samaritan Women’s Spring. She even went to the catacombs to find the one named by the administrators but found nothing magical.
“Yes,” Lumian confirmed after some thought. “It’s deep in the catacombs and has something to do with Fourth Epoch Trier.”
Franca’s eyes sparkled as she inquired, “Is it magical?”
Lumian glanced at her.
“It’s magical, but it’s only for Beyonders of the Corpse Collector, Warrior, and Sleepless pathways. If you want to give it a try, there’s only one outcome. You’ll forget who you were and the home you keep talking about. From then on, you’ll become a true Trier Demoness.”
Franca shuddered and subconsciously shook her head.
“What’s the difference between that and being dead?”
She stopped asking about the Samaritan Women’s Spring and said excitedly, “Can you transform into Muggle? Let me take a look.”
Lumian gazed at Franca for a few seconds before finally donning the silver-white earring again.
Soon, Aurore, clad in a white shirt, black vest, and simple pants, appeared before Franca.
“Wow!” Franca exclaimed. “She’s even more beautiful than I imagined!”
“Is that the point?” Lumian asked in Aurore’s voice.
Franca smiled sheepishly.
“I’m not sure how close this is to the real Muggle, but we disguise ourselves at gatherings. This is enough.”
Lumian reverted to his original form. As he removed the Lie earring, he said,
“I’ve already written a letter to Madam Hela. She said she’ll inform me about the next gathering and bring me there.”
Franca averted her gaze in disappointment.
“Then there’s no need for me to worry. Yes, let me tell you about the different methods of the gathering and the characteristics of the members of the Research Society…”
Franca’s supplementary class continued until noon.
Seeing Lumian preparing to leave, she hesitated for a moment and said, “Um, can you… can you transform into me again?”
Lumian, puzzled but not refusing, frowned.
Before long, with a reference, he accurately transformed into another Franca.
Franca gazed at her face, seemingly intoxicated.
Suddenly, she extended her right hand and touched Lumian’s cheek.
“Hey!” Lumian took a step back.
Franca snapped out of her daze and smiled sheepishly.
“The feeling of a real person and a mirror is indeed different. However, I feel that you’re still lacking something, but I can’t tell what.”
Lumian pondered for a moment and asked with a smile, “Lacking a feminine charm?”
“Maybe.” Franca exhaled and watched Lumian walk towards the door.
Just as Lumian opened the door, he heard the Demoness of Pleasure shout from behind, “Dammit, were you secretly cursing me? What feminine charm!”
…
In Salle de Bal Brise, as Lumian sat down, Sarkota approached him with a wanted poster and said,
“Those black dogs have been asking around with it for the past two days.”
Lumian glanced at it and realized it was his wanted poster.
He smiled nonchalantly. “It’s fine. Let them search.”
Sarkota didn’t say anything else and informed Lumian, “The Boss wants you to make a trip to Rue des Fontaines today.”
What’s the matter now? Lumian pondered and nodded.
It was almost evening when he arrived at 11 Rue des Fontaines in Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative.
The lawn seemed to have been ravaged, and the hall filled with weapons and armor was severely damaged.
Upon seeing Gardner Martin, Lumian didn’t hide his confusion.
“Did something happen?”
Gardner Martin, his face glowing, smiled and said, “After the Werewolf incident, they launched a sneak attack and were forced back. They suffered a loss.”
The Rose School of Thought ultimately fell into the Boss’s trap? Seeing that Gardner Martin didn’t want to elaborate, Lumian asked, “Boss, why did you summon me?”
Gardner Martin produced an exquisite invitation.
“Count Poufer invites you to his Red Swan Castle for a salon this weekend.”
Red Swan Castle? Lumian frowned slightly.