As Lucien calmly copied the sentences, a line of blood-red words suddenly jumped out of the white letterhead, like flowing blood, giving people a terrifying feeling:

"Stop what you're doing! or you'll receive a corpse!"

With a snap, Lucien, who pretended to be panicked, dropped the quill on the table and said with a slight stammer: "I just, just want to record your request, so as not to forget." ”

"Your excuse is funny, Mr. Evans, stop your stupid actions, this is your last chance, if you do something like this again, you will receive Joel's corpse, of course, a finger warning is a must!"

Lucien was in pain and blamed himself, but he didn't let these emotions affect him, from the moment he decided not to cooperate with the cultists and seek a chance to save people, Lucien was mentally prepared for the possible harm that Uncle Joel, Aunt Elisa, and Evan might suffer, and saving people from the kidnappers was not a dinner party, a banquet, a storm, and the consciousness of paying the price, it would definitely not succeed.

"Alright, everything is as you wish, and I'll take care of it. Lucien tore up the blank paper on which the words were copied.

"Is he able to see me, is it by this magic item letter, or is there another means? ”

Seeing that the letter was quiet, Lucien put it away, and then lay on the bed as if he was a little lost, his spiritual power did not spread, but he relied on a hazy and vague sense to judge whether there were any traces of other supernatural powers in the cabin.

At this time, you can't use magic to probe it, and if you find it, it's over.

Lucien knew very well that up to now, he had been able to test out some things, not because he was much smarter than the cultists, but because they didn't know the details of their own information asymmetry, and this advantage would be lost if they were a little impatient and negligent.

The entire hut, except for the envelopes placed in the box, did not have the slightest supernatural power and induction.

............

After the seemingly calm noon, Lucien took his much shriveled money bag and walked towards the Gisu district, where he found the old garden villa at number 116.

Its location was better than Lucien had imagined, near the city walls in the district of Gisu, and because there was no gate, it was very deserted, except for a few poorly-looking two-story villas on either side of the road, far apart from the street trees.

This kind of sycamore-like street tree called Rawa is tall and stout, with dense foliage, completely surrounding these two-story villas, and the golden leaves flutter in the wind, full of poetry, and set off the secluded quiet.

Lucien, who was very satisfied with the surrounding environment, walked to the gate made of iron railings and slapped it heavily, and the person in charge of renting houses in the Gisu district of the association should have arrived according to the agreement in the morning.

Sure enough, when I heard a knock on the door, out of the white two-story building covered with green vines came a man in his thirties, who had a neatly trimmed beard and was wearing a brown formal suit, and looked very shrewd.

"Hello, Mr. Evans, I'm Brian, and I'm showing you around the villa. Lucian, who had made headlines on the front pages of the Music Review and the Symphony Herald with an oil portrait, was the most talked about figure in the association today, so Brian, who had been to the library to borrow books, recognized Lucien at a glance.

When he opened the iron door and saw Lucien stretching out his right hand first, he hurriedly greeted it with both hands, holding Lucian's right hand and shaking it gently, with a very respectful attitude.

Being able to run the rental of a house as a civilian in the association's most well-paid and self-interested "department", Brian relied on his own shrewdness and care, and how could he be stupid enough to show arrogance in the face of a promising musician like Lucian, after all, there was no conflict of interests between the two sides.

Under Brian's guidance, Lucien walked around the villa and found that the garden at the front and the lawn for open-air gatherings at the back were not large enough, but the interior of the villa was unexpectedly clean, neat and beautiful, and instead of adopting the most popular flashy luxury, ornate and complex baroque "Trian court-style" decoration in the last decade, it was arranged in a brisk and elegant style, with a wide hall, simple and slender decorations, statues, etc., giving people a refreshing and bright feeling.

However, unfortunately, due to the obscuration of the city walls and the excessively tall Rava trees, the whole building is very poorly lit, so the refreshing and bright style is shrouded in darkness, creating an eerie and eerie feeling, which contrasts with the green vines outside.

"Mr. Evans, this villa is very quiet, and there is no strong sunlight, it is a good place to make music, I wonder if you are satisfied?" Braun tried to describe the disadvantages as advantages, and it was because of the poor lighting that the musician had entrusted to the association and had not been able to rent out the house for several months.

Lucien didn't mind the dimness, because it meant that the night would definitely be darker, so he nodded, "Show me the lease deed." ”

Braun forcibly suppressed a smile, took out a thick stack of rental deeds from the leather bag he was carrying and handed it to Lucian, as long as he could rent out this villa, in addition to the remuneration he should receive, the maid who cleaned up and kept tidy in the previous few months was also hired by him, and the difference in the middle naturally belonged to him.

Lucien looked at the contract and signed his name with Brian's quill, and took a gold tale from his money bag to the other party, as an acclaimed musician, there was no deposit or three months' rent to rent a house in the Gisu district.

Brian quickly wrote the receipt, put away the contract, and then asked with a flattering smile, "Mr. Evans, such a large villa needs at least a butler, four servants, a cook, a gardener, a carriage, and a coachman, and I can help you find people from your respective guilds." ”

"It may be a while before I move in completely, so you bring them over next week for me to choose. Lucien thought about it and agreed to Brian's proposal, but postponed it for a week, because this was the most critical time period for rescuing the hostages, and he could not be negligent or disturbed.

After handing the key to Lucian, Brian walked briskly away, while Lucian stood in the less dimly lit hall at noon, quietly watching the stairs leading to the second floor.

On the second floor there are four bedrooms, a study, a piano room, a terrace of considerable size, the first floor is the hall, dining room, four servants' rooms, a storage room, a basement, the kitchen is a separate cottage with a small door on the left side of the villa, and there is a complete villa sewer connected to the developed sewer of Aalto.

Being able to live in such a large area and such a well-decorated villa should have been full of joy for Lucien, who worked hard and wanted to enjoy life, but now Lucien looked at all this, only the irritability and anger suppressed in his heart.

After standing for a while, Lucien hurried back to his cottage in Adjan, and then deliberately returned to the garden villa with a few clothes.

Putting his clothes in the master bedroom on the second floor, Lucien walked into the quietest piano room in the whole villa, its walls were made of special stone like Victor's piano room, which was able to block the sound in the room, creating a perfect echo effect without disturbing the others.

The door to the piano room was closed, and there was an indescribable silence and tranquility in the room, and no movement could be heard except for Lucian's own footsteps.

Closing the curtains as well, Lucien sat down on the chaise longue in the piano room, slowly swaying in the darkness, concentrating on his surroundings without emitting his senses.

There are no more mystery-like letterheads!

"What would he think of me?"

In this extreme quiet, Lucien seemed to be asleep, as if the whole room was in the blur of his soul.

Suddenly, a little supernatural power fluctuated.

Lucien didn't open his eyes, and his ears heard a slight buzzing sound:

"Is it the 'Alto tabby mosquito' to observe? is it an incidental reconnaissance technique, or is it simply a transfiguration?" As if asleep, Lucien quietly judged in his heart, although it was not clear what methods the cultists used, but the purpose of this temptation had been achieved: in the case of stationery items, the other party relied on it, it was both a communication tool and a surveillance item, and as long as it was away from the envelope, the other party had to use other magic means to observe and track him.

And when there was no essential difference in strength between the two sides, the prepared Lucien could easily detect the small fluctuations in supernatural power, because the other party had never thought that Lucien would be an apprentice of magic.

Lucien didn't expose the other party's means, because he already knew the way and was already familiar with the means that were the easiest to deal with, so why should he let the other party change?

............

In the evening, perhaps because Lucien fell asleep in the afternoon by pretending to be exhausted and mentally exhausted, the letter did not mention the afternoon's events, but only warned Lucien that if he moved, he must remember to bring the stationery.

"There are still a couple of things to be tried. Lucien kept familiarizing himself with the refining process of the "Weeping Soul" potion that had been parsed in his mind as he watched the thick night.

............

The next morning, after getting up for breakfast, Lucien was about to go out when he suddenly found a ball of white paper stuffed in the crack at the bottom of the door.

Feeling tight, Lucien calmly took out the white paper and opened it slowly.

Three fingers that were still stained with blood appeared in front of Lucian's eyes, two slender and calloused, one thick and fat, they were all little fingers, and the white bones at the fracture reflected the early morning sun slightly.

Lucien closed his eyes to hide the murderous intent, anger, and wetness in his eyes, and then opened his eyes to look at something else in the white paper, a small dark ball that seemed to be filled with smoke.

"This is your gift, Mr. Evans. ”

There is also a line of blood-colored text on the white paper.

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