813 The Abnormality of Warlocks....
813 The Abnormality of Warlocks
Franca walked to the full-length mirror and put the silver Lie earring on her left ear.
Her skin immediately turned semi-transparent, and tiny meat tendrils seemed to grow beneath it.
These meat tendrils squirmed and shifted, gathering together again.
In just twenty to thirty seconds, Franca transformed into the appearance Lumian used to disguise as Aurore.
After adjusting herself a bit, she smoothed down her blonde hair and looked at her reflection, saying, “Aurore is really beautiful… Lie is amazing, it can do this much.”
“You’ve never used Lie before?” Jenna, standing nearby, asked in confusion.
She remembered Franca using it more than once.
Franca chuckled and explained, “It’s been a while. Just feeling nostalgic.
Plus, after becoming a Demoness of Pleasure and using Lie to tweak my appearance, I didn’t dare do it again. Afraid I’d fall in love with myself and get lost in my own beauty.
“Now I’ve just made a slight adjustment to Aurore’s face, and she looks so beautiful. A natural beauty like her taking the Demoness pathway, I can’t imagine how stunning she’d become. Lie and the Demoness, they’re a perfect match, but it’s too easy to lose oneself, preferring to live in lies than face the truth.”
Seeing Franca still able to joke around, Jenna quietly breathed a sigh of relief and nodded with a smile. “For us Demonesses, Lie is the most delicious poison.”
Franca murmured in agreement and turned back to the full-length mirror to adjust her height.
Before leaving, she looked at Jenna and thoughtfully asked, “You need a few more good acts to fully digest your Witch potion, right?”
“Yes, if I rely on similar performances as before, it will take time and repetition,” Jenna replied, knowing what Franca was about to say.
Just like she often did, Franca was about to impart some life, no, digestion experience.
With Aurore’s enhanced beauty, Franca smiled.
“I think your acts have overlooked the black magic aspect of a Witch. Think about it, isn’t black magic an essential part of many Witch legends? And many of those legends were likely left by real Witches.
“You could try finding a scoundrel, someone who deserves to be hanged, collect their hair and flesh, and as a Witch, predict their doom. Use black magic to torment them daily until they die.”
Jenna pondered for a moment. “I can give it a shot.”
But… I do hope you becoming a Demoness of Pleasure would change things… Franca sighed inwardly but maintained her smile, pulled up her hood, walked out the door, and disappeared into the hallway shadows.
The scheduled offline gathering was at 6 Rue Belfort on Avenue du Boulevard, a four-story mansion with a garden, located in a luxurious area. Despite its opulence, it was always rented out for 15,000 verl d’or a year, having housed dukes, bankers, and diplomats.
Now, it had no long-term tenants and was temporarily rented for a week by the gathering’s organizer, Professor.
Passing through the garden lit by gas lamps and circling a fountain with statues, Franca reached the mansion’s entrance, where a table with a sign-in book was placed.
This was the simplest form of identity verification to prevent some odd Trieriens from wandering in.
Franca recalled Aurore’s notes, mimicked the handwriting, and signed Muggle with a deliberate slant.
It felt like an unseen gaze lingered on the sign-in book for two seconds.
Silently, the mansion door opened, and Franca stepped inside.
She slowed her pace, seriously recalling the mannerisms of Muggle from the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society gatherings.
Franca, highly professional in her role-playing, had previously used dream divination to retrieve those buried memories. Now, she quickly captured Aurore’s walking style.
She shortened her steps and lightened her waist movements.
The mansion’s living room was homely, with red and yellow decorations bringing an indescribable warmth.
Eight members of the Curly-Haired Baboons Research Society were disguised as they had been in the Nation of the Evernight to indicate their identities. Some sat in the sofa area, drinking and chatting, while others played darts in a corner.
Professor, wearing a black butterfly mask, left the sofa with an orange cocktail in hand and approached Franca.
With a faint smile on her lips, she said, “Let’s chat first, catch up on recent events, then we can drink, play board games, sing, and play cards. How does that sound?”
Great! If offline gatherings were just for trading items and exchanging mystical knowledge without any entertainment, what’s the point? One reason Franca was willing to attend was that it had been a while since she had fun with her “fellow countrymen'”-teaching Lumian and Jenna to fully understand certain things was too troublesome.
Franca gracefully pulled up a high stool and sat next to Professor, casting a glance at familiar faces like Periodic Table and Isotope, wondering if there were any hidden Moses Ascetic Order members.
“Muggle, are you settled in Trier?” The Academy team member with a periodic table painted on his face curiously asked Franca.
Franca restrained her overly active side, showing just a bit to match Muggle’s usual behavior, smiling as she answered, “For now, yes. But considering Trier’s situation, I don’t plan to stay long. I might move in a while.”
She subtly reminded her “countrymen” that Trier was dangerous, like living on an active volcano that could erupt anytime.
“Why do you say that?” Professor keenly asked the question Franca hoped for.
Franca curved her lips into a smile and pointed to the floor. “I encountered some things in Underground Trier that made me think great dangers are brewing below. They could erupt at any time.”
“Like the Mirror People?” Professor asked thoughtfully.
Franca nodded gently. “Yes.”
She didn’t say much; it was confidential, and even if she did, others might not believe it without evidence.
Professor, Isotope, and others fell silent, pondering something. Associate Professor and others playing darts returned to the sofa area, steering the conversation elsewhere.
During the exchange, Franca was more active than Lumian had been, understanding many codes and familiar with many things, not afraid of making mistakes or missing memes.
Professor glanced at her, pleased. “It seems you’ve recovered from the April Fool’s incident, back to your usual self, not as silent as before, mostly just observing.”
Uh… Franca suddenly felt she might have messed up.
Not that her disguise as Muggle was bad, but rather too good.
If Lumian returned, the Academy members would surely wonder why she seemed post-traumatic again.
Can’t just say she was hurt again, right?
Franca’s mind raced, quickly finding a reason. “Actually, I haven’t fully recovered. Some wounds might never heal. But chatting with everyone just now made me feel like I was back in the past.”
Professor expressed her understanding. She was about to say more when her face, not covered by the black butterfly mask, suddenly twisted in pain, her eyes bulging as if enduring great agony.
She bent over, clutching her head.
Franca paused, quickly scanning the others, noticing Associate Professor, Isotope, and Periodic Table with similar reactions. Only two non-Warlock members were unaffected.
Oh, I’m a Warlock now too… Franca mimicked their reactions, recalling the pain from her advancement ritual, displaying a headache-like state.
After two or three minutes, Professor straightened up, slowly exhaling.
The non-Warlock member code-named Griffin asked, “What happened to you all?”
Then, a realization struck Griffin. “The evil god Hidden Sage was injecting knowledge again?”
Associate Professor in the brown paper bag laughed bitterly. “Yes.”
“In broadcast format? I thought it was one-on-one,” Griffin marveled.
“Both happen.” Periodic Table massaged her head, addressing Franca and the others, “Have you noticed the Hidden Sage has been injecting knowledge more frequently since that terrifying rainstorm?”
“Yes.” Periodic Table nodded solemnly.
Seeing the Warlocks agree, Franca nodded too.
She pondered, Could this anomaly be related to the Celestial Master?
When Fourth Epoch Trier’s seal was briefly opened, some powers leaked out, making the already insane Hidden Sage even crazier?
Franca knew the “terrifying rainstorm” referred to the time when the Hostel Project briefly opened the Fourth Epoch Trier’s seal.