Chapter 453 Missing Author
Lumian carefully positioned the Mystery Prying Glasses on the bridge of his nose, and immediately, the room seemed to whirl, and the ground beneath him trembled.
Suppressing his nausea and dizziness, he observed the scene before him fragment and overlap, creating a surreal and captivating tableau.
The bed pressed against the desk, which seemed to lean against the ceiling. Behind the ceiling appeared to be a tap, as if it were installed within a wardrobe. These scenes were like translucent canvases superimposed on each other, reflecting themselves in Lumians vision.
A pale-white face materialized beside the wardrobe.
The face had disheveled brown hair, naturally parted. Dark-brown eyes glistened beneath black-framed glasses. It was Gabriel, looking cleaned up and as though he hadnt burned the midnight oil in a while.
The playwright gazed at Lumian with a vacant, distorted, yet strangely genuine smile.
His right hand reached out from the void, waving gently before his face shrank into the depths of the translucent layers, vanishing completely.
Lumian quickly surveyed the room, but Gabriel hadnt reappeared. He promptly removed the Mystery Prying Glasses, replacing them with the Eye of Truth on his left side.
This mystical item, composed of pale-white flesh and dark blood vessels, covered the corresponding ear, allowing Lumian to hear rapid voices from the distant horizon. The intertwined purple blood vessels formed a lens that adhered to his eye, revealing faint blood, layers of colors, and the room with a third of it blending into the surroundings. An invisible curtain resembling mullioned glass was also discernible.
The latter two phenomena rapidly dissipated or gradually returned to normal.
Before the whispers could become more distinct, Lumian removed the Eye of Truth and massaged his throbbing forehead.
Based on the combined information from both mystical items, he deduced that Gabriel had been corrupted by Hostel, becoming a presence that couldnt be perceived or touched in the conventional sense.
However, the playwright retained a certain degree of rationality. He recognized Lumian and even happily bid him farewell.
Returning the white porcelain cup with a single handle to its original position seemed to serve as a greeting, an attempt to capture Lumians attention.
Lumian frowned slightly.
His gaze shifted to the manuscript on the desk. The story in the unfinished script felt eerily familiar.
Lumian picked up the manuscript and read it meticulously, at a slower pace than before.
After perusing the first section, he confirmed that the protagonist of the script was Gabriel himself. The characters personality, the details of his life, the cold treatment he endured, and the demand to produce vulgar works all aligned seamlessly.
Regarding the female lead, who immersed herself in the underworld and persistently encouraged the male leads creations, Lumian couldnt help but feel that if it werent for the difference in gender, he could be the one with such a background.
However, the female leads personality, her way of speaking, and her encouraging words were entirely distinct from his own. Even in the scenes involving the mobs, Lumian could discern traces of Charlie.
This woman had once accompanied a painter to a small seaside town as a model. After an extended absence, she returned to Auberge du Coq Dore.
Painter!
Could Gabriel have been corrupted on that night when Seraphine returned? Was it possible that Seraphine had moved to the Hostel? Lumian meticulously perused the script, leaving no word unread.
Since this was a story born from Gabriels own experiences, it undoubtedly contained numerous factual details and genuine emotionsinvaluable clues!
As Lumian continued to read the script, bathed in the sunlight filtering through the oriel window, he sensed the concealed love that resided within Gabriels heart. He could feel the ache of remorse, reluctance, and the yearning for a relationship that Gabriel believed he could easily discard when he moved to a better neighborhood to start anew. In the end, he found himself unable to forget it.
The protagonist, increasingly aware of his hearts true desires and feelings, ceased to evade them and actively embarked on a quest to uncover traces of his beloved.
He sought out people who were acquainted with her, visited motels and hotels that occasionally haunted his dreams, and explored galleries in search of new artworks based on his lover...
Yet, his endeavors proved futile, leading him to compose the inner monologue.
Regrettably, the contents of the drawer only covered the first half of the script. By the time Gabriel had reached the second half, he appeared to have delved deeply into his emotions and penned his inner monologue in a single burst.
Lumian looked at the papers before him, pondering the situation.
Lumian made a preliminary guess and conducted a thorough search of Gabriels rented apartment with a clear objective in mind.
Nothing.
He then left 34 Rue Saint-Michel and made his way back to the Third-Rate Author bar, where he seated himself next to Rabe, who was engrossed in his drink.
A glass of La Fee Verte, Lumian ordered as he tapped the bar counter.
Then, he turned to Rabe and inquired, Do you have any idea where Gabriel has been over the past few days?
Rabe pointed to a small round table near the window and replied, Youll have to ask them.
As an underprivileged author working as a ghostwriter without a pen name, Rabe considered himself fortunate to know a rising star like Gabriel and attend his private gatherings. He had to work regularly every day to fulfill the missions assigned by his boss, preventing him from participating in their activities.
Guided by Rabe, Lumian approached the small round table and was taken aback upon seeing the four individuals seated there.
In response to Lumians inquiry, the leader of the group responded with a puzzled expression, We last saw Gabriel two days ago. We all went to the Trier Art Center together to attend an art exhibition.
Trocadero Town.
Franca, dressed in a white jacket, followed Browns Sauron, who wore a black coat, as they navigated through the manor adorned with grapevines.
With curiosity evident on her face, Franca, who had been invited, couldnt help but ask, Where are you taking me?
Browns cast a brief glance in her direction.
Im taking you to meet my teacher. Youve successfully passed the assessment and are now an official member of our sect.
The term perks was coined by Emperor Roselle and had gained recognition in Intis.
Browns maintained a bit of distance from Franca as she questioned, What would you like in exchange?
Without hesitation, Franca responded, The potion formula for Affliction.
Affliction was the name of the Assassin pathways Sequence 5, often referred to as the Demoness of Affliction.
Browns let out a scoff.
Quite bold to make such a request. Do you believe you have accrued enough contribution points to ask for the potion formula for Affliction?
She paused for a moment before adding, Of course, if you can assist the sect in achieving something, this can be your perk.
Franca, who had initially held limited hope and was merely testing the waters, glanced at Browns.
And whats that something?
Seizing the opportunity, Browns explained, Weve received information that the Iron and Blood Cross Order discreetly smuggled an item into Trier through an underground tunnel several months ago. If you can uncover what it is and identify its possessor, youll be entitled to the Affliction potion formula.
In an effort to aid the Savoie Mobs smuggling leader in recovering his brother and the transported goods, she and Lumian had been drawn into a strange mirror world, where they narrowly escaped.
During their adventure, Franca had acquired a classic sterling silver mirror.
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