279 Deep Valley Cloister
After a mont, Franca forced on a reassuring smile and spoke, “Don’t worry about him. He’s got his own mystical gatherings.”
Jenna nodded and didn’t say much more.
With disguises, masks, and a bit of makeup, they left 3 Rue des Blouses Blanches and made their way to Avenue du Marché. They hopped on Subway Line 2, which connected the bustling market district’s Suhit steam locomotive station to the elegant cathedral district’s Northern Trier Train Station. Their destination was Quartier 9, the renowned Quartier de la Maison d’Opéra in the Northern Continent.
They arrived at the world’s largest and most vibrant arcade, surrounded by departnt stores and fancy shops. The colorful glass do above, supported by steel fras, painted the sunlight with a touch of grandeur, showcasing scenes of sacredness and epic tales.
To make up for the dimness from the stained glass, new kerosene lamps on the iron-black street lamp poles burned brightly, emitting a dazzling white light.
They were called draft lamps that utilized the heat they generated to turn kerosene into steam, spraying it onto the scorching mantle around it, creating a bright white light.
In terms of illumination, they were far superior to conventional gas street lamps or regular household kerosene lamps, a modification of the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery.
Jenna followed Franca into the public washroom in the middle of the Opera House arcade. Each found a stall, changed their clothes, and applied simple makeup to downplay their looks.
After that, they headed underground through a nearby entrance.
Unlike other districts in Trier, the underground street beneath the Opera House arcade was bustling with people. Cafés, galleries, beer houses, and small shops filled the space, making it feel anything but dark, cold, or confined.
Only when they left the area did Jenna find her usual impression of Underground Trier.
As Assassins, they could see in the dark. However, to avoid exposing their Sequence abilities to those attending the mysterious gathering, they each held a carbide lamp that cast a bluish-yellow light ahead.
Studying Franca’s actions closely, Jenna mimicked her and donned a silver tal mask that covered the upper half of her face. Silently, she ventured deeper into the damp tunnel.
After walking for a while, Franca pointed to a fork in the road and smiled.
“There’s a legend of ghosts in that direction.”
“What’s the legend?” Jenna asked, playing along.
Franca grinned and replied, “They say people in the opera house often hear strange male voices coming from underground. They hired several bounty hunters to investigate, but none of them returned.”
“Didn’t the official Beyonders intervene?” Jenna inquired, puzzled.
“They did, but they found nothing. That’s because it’s a legend we made up,” Franca chuckled.
Jenna was even more perplexed.
“Why make up such a legend?”
For amusent?
Franca assured her, smiling, “To prevent the people of Underground Trier from ddling with our gathering.”
Jenna finally realized the reason behind it.
“So, you scared them off, and they wouldn’t dare co here?”
“No.” Franca shook her head with a serious expression. “No, it’s not about scaring them away. It’s about diverting their attention to that area, so they don’t bother with the surroundings. In simpler terms, it gives the adventurous Trier citizens and university students sothing to keep them occupied.”
Having grown up in Trier, Jenna fell silent. After a few seconds, she muttered, “Dammit! The Trieriens around are nothing like this!”
Everyone worked diligently. They just liked to go to bars, dance halls, and other places to drink, sing, dance, or vent their emotions by cursing each other after a busy day.
“People from Trier can be different,” Franca said, clicking her tongue and shaking her head.
As they talked, they squeezed through a gap and entered a new tunnel, arriving at a quarry cave overgrown with dark green moss.
Outside the quarry cave stood a white skeleton, its face hidden behind an iron mask, its eye sockets dark and empty.
Jenna, who had never encountered anything related to mysticism before, couldn’t help but feel her heart race with fear.
Franca raised her hand and greeted, “You always send a skeleton. Is all this caution really necessary?”
“Dammit, you even put a mask on the skeleton. What’s there to be embarrassed about?” she added.
The white skeleton spoke with a voice that sounded like tal rubbing against tal, “I like a line from The Adventurer series: ‘That’s basic courtesy.’”
With its eye sockets devoid of flas, it looked at Jenna.
“Who is she?”
“My friend. I brought her here to take a look,” Franca simply replied.
The skeleton didn’t push for more information. It cracked its neck, signaling that they could enter the quarry cave at the back.
Inside, Jenna saw many people in various disguises, either sitting on rocks or standing in a corner. Silence enveloped the place.
After scanning the area, Jenna lowered her voice and asked Franca, “They’re letting in just like that?”
Isn’t this too easy?
Aren’t they concerned about my trustworthiness or safety?
Franca smirked and replied, “I trust him, and he trusts .”
“Is that so…” Jenna nodded, but she sensed sothing strange. “How did that skeleton know it was you? Weren’t you disguised?”
“He has a special way of recognizing people,” Franca vaguely explained.
Fifteen minutes later, more people arrived one after another. By the ti the iron-masked skeleton announced the official comncent of the trade gathering, nearly twenty people had gathered in the quarry cave.
Jenna observed the transactions with curiosity, absorbing the new terms as Franca whispered them to her.
During this process, she couldn’t help but be shocked by the prices of potion formulas, mystical items, Beyonder weapons, and various ingredients. Even the cheapest ones required an entire week’s salary as an underground singer. As for the expensive ones, she felt that she had no hope in her life.
The last third of the trade gathering focused on commissions. Jenna sat up straight, hoping to find one that could earn her a large sum of money.
A man dressed in a black robe, resembling a Warlock from horror stories, spoke in a deliberately shrill voice, “I have a mission worth 20,000 verl d’or.”
20,000 verl d’or? All eyes in the room turned to the entrustee.
Jenna was no exception. She had never seen such a large sum of money in her life.
The man glanced around and said, “The gatekeeper of the Deep Valley Cloister in the hill district has been missing for three days. I hope you can help find him or his corpse.
“I can’t verify the authenticity of the clues, so only those who bring him or his corpse back to the Deep Valley Cloister can claim the 20,000 verl d’or reward.
“Alternatively, you can bring him here.”
The Deep Valley Cloister belonged to the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery, where ascetic monks devoted themselves to the study of machinery and steam. They didn’t marry, have children, or preach.
Located in the hill district, Quartier 19, it was bordered by the cathedral district of the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery’s cathedral and the Northern Trier Train Station to the west, and Quartier 20, the cetery district, to the east.
Seeing no imdiate response, the man continued, “The authorities have already investigated, but they found nothing.
“You can all take this commission and investigate Deep Valley Cloister as bounty hunters. Don’t worry about suspicion. I’ll post notices in bars, dance halls, and beer houses in various districts.”
I can give it a try. It won’t cost anything if I co up with nothing. At most, it’ll take so ti from making money… Jenna turned to Franca, tempted.
Franca nodded, agreeing that they could take on this mission.
She was curious about the case, and she wanted Jenna to gain so experience before resorting to dangerous assassinations. If they sensed any danger or discovered sothing amiss, they could retreat in ti.
Of course, the high bounty was also appealing.
After a brief silence, the participants began asking questions one after another.
They wanted to gather enough information before starting their investigations.
The entrustee’s responses were brief. He inford everyone that the missing cloister’s gatekeeper was Pinker, a resident of nearby Deep Valley Town in his early fifties. He was a devout believer of the God of Steam and Machinery, and he had never married. With a fanatical passion for machinery, he beca a gatekeeper at Deep Valley Cloister after owning fields.
He returned ho once a week, spending one day each ti, but he didn’t disappear at ho.
One night, while the monks were testing a steam contraption in the courtyard, they spotted Pinker standing at the door of the gatekeeper’s hut, watching with interest. But the next morning, he was gone.
Jenna took note of the information just like during her acting studies.
Before long, the mysticism gathering concluded, and the participants departed in groups.
…
A few nights later, Lumian sat at the bar in Salle de Bal Brise, savoring his favorite absinthe and watching Jenna sing and dance.
Just then, Louis approached him and whispered in his ear, “Boss, the Big Boss is here. He’s waiting for you at the café on the second floor.”
“Boss ca personally?” Lumian was slightly surprised.
Without saying a word, he downed the rest of the green liquid, stood up, and headed towards the stairs.
At that mont, Gardner Martin stood near the window, dressed casually in a dark brown jacket and a wide-brimd hat, as if he had just co from the docks or the depot.
He looked at Lumian with his brownish-red eyes for a mont before motioning for the others to leave.
Soon, only Gardner Martin and Lumian remained in the café.
The Savoie Mob boss smiled and said, “I’ve expressed my admiration for you more than once, haven’t I?”
“Indeed, thank you, Boss.” Lumian nodded.
Gardner Martin’s expression turned serious.
“Are you interested in joining my circle? This will allow you to co into contact with more Beyonders, stronger powers, and abundant resources.”
Is that all for the audit? Lumian wondered, not hiding his puzzlent.
“What’s the price?”
Gardner Martin smiled again.
“The price is that you might encounter more danger and have to follow orders to complete certain missions.
“However, as long as you do well, you will definitely progress rapidly. Perhaps in a few years, you can take my position.”
Lumian pretended to hesitate and pondered for a mont before saying, “I don’t have a problem with that.”
Gardner Martin nodded solemnly.
“Before that, you need to undergo a test.
“Go to 13 Avenue du Marché now and stay there until the sun rises.”
13 Avenue du Marché? Lumian frowned, doing his best to recall.
Finally, he rembered where that was.
Osta Trul, the Secrets Suppliant, considered it the most dangerous place in the market district.
It was the burned-down building that had yet to be demolished!
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