?11:58?
Lumian's gaze fixated on the golden pocket watch, his suspicions heightened by the peculiar scent in the air.
He felt as though he had slumbered for more than an hour. Why then had only seven minutes elapsed?
Though the unreliability of his instincts were plausible, other anomalies lurked. The absence of mosquito corpses and the eerie silence hinted at peculiarities.
Lumian, drawing from his past encounters, murmured to himself, Could it be that I've entered a special dream?
In the dead of night, slumbering within this tawny house leads to a peculiar dream?
Did "Hisoka" Twanaku rebuild the house to make it look less suspicious for him to stay there?
But why would such a thing happen?
Lumian bowed his head and peered ahead. His gaze seed to penetrate through wooden planks and various obstacles, revealing the corresponding underground area.
Uncertain about the origin of this anomaly, he could only speculate based on common sense and experience.
In the silent darkness, Lumian shuffled his feet, producing creaking sounds as he left the house that once belonged to "Hisoka" Twanaku.
The street lay deserted, and many of the livestock on the ground floor of the buildings seed to blend into the night. It was impossible to discern if they still existed. The footsteps of patrolling soldiers had vanished completely.
A warm, humid night breeze swept through the unobstructed streets, surrounding Lumian as he headed towards the entrance of the Giant Boa bar.
Straining his ears, Lumian noticed that it was so quiet that even the rustling of insects and the buzzing of mosquitoes had ceased.
His expression remained unchanged as he extended his right hand, pushing open the heavy wooden door.
Darkness shrouded the interior. With the dim moonlight filtering through the window and Lumian's sharp eyesight as a Hunter, he could barely discern the outlines of the bar counter, liquor cabinet, small round table, chairs, candlestick wall lamps, and other items, but not a single human was in sight.
The bar seed to have been closed for quite so ti.
This is even more perplexing. Before I fell asleep, this bar was quite lively. It's impossible for them to clear out the custors and clean every corner in seven to eight minutes.
Based on my experience, even though countryside bars close earlier than those in the city and aren't bustling until two or three in the morning, they usually continue selling alcohol until midnight. Also, they usually ask those who are still drinking to leave after they're done. If they encounter a drunk who refuses to leave, it tends to cause so delay… Lumian, a regular at Cordu's Ol' Tavern, felt confident in making such judgnts, drawing from his various experiences in different bars.
This conviction only strengthened his belief that he was caught in what seed to be a very real dream.
Suddenly, mories of past events in Cordu flooded Lumian's mind, causing his grip on the heavy wooden door of the Giant Boa bar to freeze.
After a mont of contemplation, he decided to leave and headed back to the Brieu Motel.
Walking through the dark stairs and a corridor paved with aged planks, Lumian returned to his suite on the second floor at a moderate pace. He pushed open the wooden door to the child's room.
The dim crimson moonlight poured into the room, illuminating the sky-blue patterned blanket and bedsheets.
But no one was sleeping here.
Ludwig had disappeared too.
Combined with the strange sights on his way, Lumian strongly suspected that he was alone in this dream.
All the townsfolk, livestock, and outsiders had vanished, leaving him in solitude in Tizamo Town!
This can't be considered a festival unless it is nad the Loneliness Festival… Lumian pondered for a few seconds before leaving the Brieu Motel and heading towards the Saint-Sien Cathedral near the cetery.
In the dim moonlit night, the cathedral's golden do and various decorations on the outer walls seed to lose their glow, settling into a deep slumber.
Lumian didn't want to waste energy pushing open the front door. He pried open a stained glass window and jumped in.
In the night's darkness, the place was silent and empty. The do above exuded an oppressive and cold aura that was absent during the day.
Lumian searched the area but couldn't find Padre Cali— who had exhibited abnormalities—the deputy padre, or any odd-job workers.
I'm truly alone…
Only those who sleep in Hisoka's house can enter this special dream?
Yes, and it has to be late at night.
How can the Dream Festival be held? One can't expect all the relevant people to line up at Hisoka's house to sleep at a specific ti, right? Disregarding the question of whether we can squeeze in, how did such a widespread collective act deceive the patrol team and the army outside the town?
Moreover, it doesn't seem like everyone has been pulled into the dream. The Tizamons I previously found were completely unaware…
And the most crucial question: Since it's a dream, why am I lucid?
Lumian contemplated for a mont before reaching out his right hand to touch the wall adorned with the religious mural.
It felt cold and solid, a genuine stone.
Drawing on his extensive experience in realistic dreams, Lumian pushed aside these questions, opting to begin with the simplest reconnaissance.
He aid to confirm the dinsions of this dream and its boundaries.
Activating the black mark on his right shoulder, Lumian connected with the spirit world. He "saw" every corner of Tizamo Town.
Through Spirit World Traversal, he disappeared and reappeared on the packed earth path leading from Tizamo Town to Port Pylos.
Teleportation is possible… That's true. Since it's a dream, nothing is impossible. As long as I believe it's feasible, I should be able to do it… Following the Cordu incident, Lumian delved into nurous dream-related books and sought counsel from Madam Justice, Madam Susie, Anthony Reid, and other Beyonders in the mind domain, gaining a profound understanding.
Slowing his pace, he headed towards Port Pylos. After walking for two to three hundred ters, the scenery ahead blurred, as if an ethereal fog was swirling. Beneath the faint moonlight, the fog appeared pitch-black.
Suddenly, Lumian's spiritual intuition warned him that entering the misty area, veiled in an illusionary fog, might be perilous. There was a high likelihood that sothing terrifying would occur.
There are indeed limitations. I can't directly reach the edge of the mind… Lumian decided against taking the risk. He swiftly returned to Tizamo and began searching for the other boundary.
This was the area near the primitive forest.
After covering a distance of 300 to 400 ters, Lumian reached the forest's edge. Rainforest-like vegetation stood silently in the night, resembling dense tombstones.
Noticing no blurry areas veiled in illusory fog, Lumian proceeded cautiously and decisively.
Passing through drooping vines and trees, he delved deeper into the primitive forest, walking on the thick, humus-covered ground.
Along the way, there were no dancing mosquitoes or venomous creatures concealed among the vegetation.
After another 700 to 800 ters, Lumian sensed his surroundings becoming more psychedelic.
So areas beca blurry, others distorted, and so beca clearer. However, upon closer inspection, they couldn't be seen distinctly.
The conditions in these areas continued to fluctuate.
This feels more like a typical dream… With no warning from his spirituality, Lumian took a few more steps forward.
Suddenly, the entire world shattered into scenes that interweaved and materialized around him.
Lumian's lucidity wavered, leaving him slightly disoriented.
In the next mont, he witnessed scenes of black boulders and humans in dark robes.
One of the humans raised his head, revealing a pale-white face with a light brown base, flaxen-colored eyes tinged with dark green, and decent facial features.
Hisoka!
"Hisoka" Twanaku!
He was "Hisoka" Twanaku!
The human in the dark robe, embodying "Hisoka" Twanaku's visage, straightened up.
His gaze seed to transcend various scenes and fixate on Lumian.
Amidst the illusory sound, the scenes around Lumian shattered.
Lumian sat up and found himself back in the tawny building that "Hisoka" Twanaku had rebuilt. He was in the dark room with the simple wooden bed.
Quickly surveying his surroundings, Lumian retrieved a golden pocket watch from the left breast pocket of his shirt. Clicking it open, he checked the ti.
1:38 a.m.
The crimson moonlight outside the window wasn't too bright, but it wasn't dim either. The nearby Giant Boa bar had already closed, yet the howl of a wild beast echoed from the distant primitive forest.
The night was silent but not deathly still.
I'm awake? That's more like it. I slept for an hour or more than 40 minutes, quite close to my estimation… Lumian got out of bed and observed the ground. As expected, he saw charred mosquito corpses and nurous insects lingering outside the window, blocked by the sll of tranquil essential oil.
Phew. He breathed a sigh of relief and contemplated the appearance of "Hisoka" Twanaku in the special dream.
Since it's a festival, Dream Festival shouldn't be held just once—that's what a party is. Could Hisoka have participated in many Dream Festivals in the past few years and left so kind of mark in the dream?
Is Dream Festival indeed related to that primitive tribe? That's why I activated certain imprints and images recorded in the dream after venturing deep into the forest. That's how I saw Hisoka…
What purpose does Hisoka intend to achieve with the Dream Festival?
Dream Festival, Dream Festival. Since it's a festival, it must be held on a fixed date. At other tis, if I enter a special dream, I won't encounter anything, just like tonight?
What date could it be?
Lumian fell into deep thought.
He quickly deduced a direction.
On December 17th of last year, the primitive tribe attacked Tizamo Town, causing nurous casualties.
Lumian perked up and swiftly confird today's date. Dream Festival happens on December 17th, or two or three days before it, which is when April Fool's played their prank here?
It was past 1 a.m. on December 11th.
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