A shrill scream of fear reached the ears of every guest in the large living room, making their hearts tremble and they felt uncontrollably afraid.

The painter Mullen was very sensitive to this, and he looked at the Count of Puiver, and asked with concern:

"What happened?

At this time, the Count of Puifer was frowning slightly, slightly puzzled.

Hearing Mullen's question, he came back to his senses and smiled easily and naturally:

"There may be some accident, I asked the servant to ask about the specific situation, rest assured, this will not affect us, what can happen?"

With that, Count Puiver motioned for the valet who was staying in the corner of the large parlor to go to the place where the screams had occurred.

Then he said to all the guests:

"Go on, go on."

As he spoke, the Sauron family member turned his gaze to Lumian.

Ever since he presented the gold bar, he had been observing the "emperor's" every move and subtle expression, trying to figure out why he had eaten the king's cake with the gold coin instead of himself.

Lumian, enduring the little madness that permeated him, looked at the painter Mullen and said:

"Draw a picture with your ass."

As the prankster king of Cordu, he has plenty of options in his arsenal to give every participant in the game a mission they will never forget.

But that wasn't what Lumian was most concerned about, and the bloody spirit hovering over the couch area worried him a lot.

This strange and terrible thing did not leave because it could not invade Lumian's body, it still lingered in the air, not abating in the slightest, and even spreading irritability, bloodlust, and irritability.

Lumian suspected that the scream had something to do with the madness that was hovering around.

The handsome-looking but pale and tired painter Mullen heard about painting with his ass for the first time, and was a little stunned and didn't know what to do.

Under the influence of the idea that they had already accepted the task and could not let others escape, Jia Anoli and the others not only got excited and coaxed the servants around them to bring the paint and drawing paper, but also took the initiative to "help" Malen untie his belt.

Unable to escape, Malen had to paint his butt and print it on the drawing paper several times in a row, barely completing a toddler's graffiti-like work.

Seeing this scene, Jia Anoli suddenly had an idea:

"How about we frame it and send it to those art critics? Let's see what they would say about such a work.

"The painting is signed by the word 'Emperor', the title, well, Mullen, what do you think?"

Maren avoided everyone, wiped his buttocks, and thought for a while:

"It's called a 'café.'"

"What's the point?" Cornell, editor-in-chief of the newspaper Little Trier, asked curiously.

"It doesn't make sense, I just thought of such a term." Mullen shook his head, dropped the paint-stained handkerchief and soft paper, and lifted his pants, "The painting itself has no meaning. ”

While they were discussing, Count Puiver's valet walked back to the large drawing-room and whispered a few words in the man's ear.

Affected by the hidden madness of the "Blood Emperor", even if Lumian was fully concentrated, he couldn't hear what the other party was saying clearly, and only barely made out a few words:

"Lost. . . … Harm...... Dangerous ......"

Count Puiver's expression was slightly gloomy, revealing a slight sense of solemnity.

He immediately bowed his head slightly, signaling the valet to return to the position he had just taken, and he put on a posture that was not a big deal.

Lumian observed the look on the face of the Sauron family member as he struggled to think of a way to let the madness go:

You can't wait until everyone has completed the assigned task, right? No, there is still one step missing, at the end of the last game of King's Cake, dedicated to Vermunda. Sauron's piece of king's bread was eaten by the Count of Puiver......

Thinking of this, Lumian set his eyes on the piece of sacrifice that was still on the plate, then leaned forward, reached out his right hand, and picked it up.

Count Puiver had no doubts about this.

In his opinion, "Charles" would have a problem if he didn't take the sacrifice!

Almost at the same time, the mad spirit that swirled around and exuded negative effects seemed to be provoked, and was abruptly fixed above Lumian's head.

It poured out all kinds of negativity, like cursing this lowly human who dared to eat its own sacrifice.

Lumian felt anger, hatred, and gnashing of teeth that wanted to tear his soul apart.

Instead of being afraid, he smiled.

This shows that he did the right thing!

If that crazy spirit didn't react much to his act of taking the sacrifice, he didn't know how to stop the other party from lingering over everyone's heads.

That doesn't mean it's going to be successful, and maybe it's dangerous, but at least it's better than the fact that the King's Cake participants become more and more irritable and bloodthirsty and end up killing each other.

When the time comes, Lumian will be able to "teleport" and escape, and the others, except for Count Puiver, are estimated to have survived.

Of course, after he eats the sacrifice, he can't predict whether there will be a mutation and bring new dangers, but in this situation, it is better to do better than not to do well.

For the participants in the King's Cake game, if Lumien hadn't tried, they would have died, and there was still plenty of hope for them to do.

Lumian brought the sacrificial piece of the king's bread to his mouth and took a big bite.

The mad spirit grew more and more angry and violent.

It didn't hover over the top of the others, hovering just above Lumian's head, trying to fall, trying to shred the target, but all to the back of Alista. Tudor's breath, instinct stopped.

Another scream suddenly rang out.

This is from somewhere in Red Swan Castle, and it doesn't belong to the same person as the scream before.

Just now it was a man, now it is a woman.

Count Puiver's eyelids jumped, and he smiled:

"It should be the servant who cleaned up the unexpected situation who was frightened by some of the more terrible images."

Guests such as literary critic Ernst & Young accepted this explanation.

On the one hand, they are guests who have no right to intervene in what is happening inside the castle, while on the other hand, they gradually become immersed in the game of King's Cake, a little fanatical, a little impatient, a little anxious, and not as concerned about other things as before.

Lumian ate the piece of the king's bread as a sacrifice, and made the invisible anger and curse of the madness play music in his ears.

Compared to the horrible whispers he heard every time he received his gifts, it was a beautiful performance of a symphony orchestra.

Under the premise that he couldn't really make a sound, and didn't dare to invade his body, the crazy spirit could only indirectly affect his mood and state.

In the process, Lumien is also distracted by the tasks of different people, and finds that the participants only have the game in their eyes.

From time to time, there was a scream in the castle, which made people's hair stand on end and send chills down their backs.

Finally, Lumian finished nibbling on the offering, and the madness that hovered over his head came to an abrupt halt.

In the next second, it mysteriously vanished, as if evaporating out of thin air.

The participants in the King's Cake game are still fanatical, but they are no longer as irritable and irritable.

Lumian exhaled quietly, turned his head sideways and said to Elos beside him:

"If you do a writhing dance, you won't just find someone else to teach you."

Compared to the cancan, which is full of sexual innuendo in itself, the twist dance seems relatively normal as long as it is not a pair of men and women, but it looks more funny.

Elos relaxed, stepped out of her seat, and twisted herself unskillfully.

Amid the laughter of the crowd, Lumien set up tasks for the remaining participants.

After all the participants had taken their turns, he straightened up and said in a posture that looked down on everyone:

"One last task:

"Keep it a secret and don't tell anyone about today's game."

"Yes, Your Majesty the Emperor!" Elos and Laurente, who were still immersed in the atmosphere of the game, responded in unison, looking respectful.

Of course, this is also the reason why there is still a little bit of "Blood Emperor" aura on Lumian's body.

Seeing that each participant exhibited an instinctive obedience, Lumian quietly exhaled and smiled:

"That's the end of today's game."

The Count of Puiver then stood up, smiled and made a gesture of please:

"Let's go to the restaurant now."

From the living room to the dining room, he inevitably passed through the hall of the main building of the castle, and out of the corner of his eye, Lumian, who had returned to normal, saw several male and female servants busy near the corridor.

They were using their mops to clean up a reddish water mark.

Red........ Lumien's eyelids twitched slightly, and he withdrew his gaze.

When the supper was over, and everyone took their leave, Lumian also went to Count Puiver, and smiled and took out the five heavy gold bars.

Count Puifer shook his head:

"Since it's the game I proposed, then I have to follow the rules, do you look down on me and think I lack the 30,000 Feldin?"

"It's courtesy." Lumian smiled in response, not giving in, and tucked the gold bar back into his pocket with swift and fluid movements.

As agreed, he put the poet Elite in his four-wheeled carriage, and gave him only 3,000 Filkin, under the pretext that he had limited banknotes with him.

Elite didn't care at all, put away the banknotes, and talked about her aesthetics.

When the carriage was moving, Lumian asked:

"Which district do you go to?"

"Just send me to the Sacred Heart Monastery." "I go there to find a friend, and the poets who get sponsored always have a big drink with them," said Ellett, smiling. ”

Sacred Heart Monastery....... Lumian bowed his head slightly, raised his voice, and commanded the coachman.

It didn't take long for the carriage to arrive at the monastery, which was as beautiful as an oil painting, and even in the dark night, the golden surface of the walls reflected the crimson moonlight, which looked very dreamy.

After seeing Elite enter the convent, Lumien instructed the coachman to return to Quanshui Street in the parish of memorial.

In the sound of horses' hooves, patches of woods and fertile fields were left behind.

Suddenly, the majestic cascading voice of Themipolos echoed in Lumian's ears:

"There's a dangerous creature stalking you, starting with Red Swan Castle.

"It's hostile and about to attack."

Dangerous creatures....... Lumian narrowed his eyes, calmly opened the door of the carriage, and jumped down with ease.

He looked at the coachman, and said with the majesty that he had left before playing the emperor:

"You wait for me in the town ahead."

The driver hesitated for two seconds, but finally chose to obey the order.

As Lumian watched him and the carriage leave, he unhurriedly took out the "torture" gloves from the briefcase he was carrying, and calmly and casually put them on his hands.

The nearby woods grew darker, and the small river that flowed through it seemed to be stained red with blood.