This thought surfaced in Ciel’s mind and lingered for a long ti.
She knew there was currently no concrete evidence to support her idea, but everything was simply too coincidental.
Ciel had to quickly bring the mastermind sealed artifact, or its holder, to the surface. The longer it dragged on, the more likely the situation was to change.
Ciel stopped pacing in the living room, took a deep breath. The sll of dust and wooden floorboards entered her nostrils. Coincidentally, a wave of coolness washed over her mind, and Ciel gradually cald down.
The more critical the mont, the less one should panic.
She moved a stool and sat at the turn of the stairs, beginning to ponder the procedure for the “Coroner” Reconstitution Ritual, lest she miss anything.
Simultaneously, her seated position allowed her to observe movents on both the first and second floors, while the first-floor window couldn’t see Ciel’s position, at most only her calves or shoes.
This maximized avoidance of stray bullets coming through the window and provided room to maneuver upstairs or downstairs in case of danger.
Ciel had nothing else to do now but wait while maintaining her thoughts, either for Tara to bring back the corpse or for the Blood Letter Gang mbers to bring intelligence about Oppold.
Ti passed minute by minute, second by second, but Ciel, sitting and waiting, felt her heart grow increasingly calm.
Corpse... stitching...
These days, Ciel had seen quite a few corpses.
As for stitching... she knew so.
Though not stitching corpses, nor stitching wounds.
Just helping her sister Lichie nd her torn work clothes.
Ciel narrowed her eyes slightly. In her vision, two illusory corpses seed to appear. Ciel raised her hands, as if holding illusory needles and thread.
But after raising her hands, facing the two illusory corpses, her hand movents paused.
She sowhat didn’t know where to start.
Moreover, the corpses then certainly wouldn’t be so complete. Achieving completeness and stitching them to resemble normal humans more closely definitely couldn’t be solved simply with needle and thread.
It might even require taking so parts from more complete corpses as supplents.
After thinking for a mont, Ciel lowered her hands. The illusory corpses before her began to break apart, becoming pieces of human bodies, like assembling a Gundam model.
This way... the approach is better.
Ciel closed her eyes slightly. The fragnted corpses constantly reford in her illusory vision. It seed she had so ideas about the specific implentation of the Reconstitution Ritual.
...
Ding—
A peculiar rusty coin tapped against an azure eyeball, emitting a crisp sound.
“Hmm?” Oppold pinched the coin in his hand, then looked at the azure eyeball placed on the dining table, making a puzzled sound.
Next, Oppold took out a small knife, made a cut on the fingertip of his right hand, and held it level above the rusty coin.
Blood gathered at his fingertip, its surface tension like a transparent film, striving to pull it back into the finger’s embrace, maintaining its perfect round shape.
But the blood droplet gradually swelled, beginning to tremble slightly at the fingertip.
Just as gravity was about to prevail and pull the blood droplet down, Oppold abruptly changed the direction of his finger. The droplet fell accurately onto the “Evil Eye.”
The blood droplet coated the azure eyeball, flowing down the round object. At this mont, Oppold spoke, “‘Evil Eye’, if I drip blood onto this coin, will there be any danger?”
The blood droplet flowed down the “Evil Eye,” absorbed by the low-quality wooden table. The surface of the “Evil Eye” remained as bright as new.
Seeing this, Oppold directly raised his hand and sared the blood from his finger onto the eyeball angel on the front of the rusty coin.
The blood of a transcendent, no matter where, always had unexpected uses.
If one were to ask what was most valuable on a transcendent, besides undigested potions and mutated body tissues, the most valuable thing would be their blood.
But blood also contained a large amount of information. Casually giving blood could easily lead to danger, so unless a transcendent was extrely poor, they wouldn’t choose to sell their own blood.
Oppold waited for a mont. The rusty coin showed no change. He frowned slightly.
Since snatching this sealed artifact from Lucy, he hadn’t found any way to “contract” with it.
Or rather, hadn’t found any way to use it.
It just automatically landed sowhere at a certain ti each day, but almost always one heads and one tails. Oppold had no clue.
However, the only thing that comforted him was that after killing Lucy, he felt his potion digestion speed had increased... Even the body mutation he previously thought irreversible had now almost completely recovered.
He felt his current state was better than ever before.
Just one slight regret was that the “Evil Eye” wouldn’t respond to any inquiries Oppold made regarding the rusty coin, as if it couldn’t see the coin at all.
This situation was very rare. At least so far, Oppold had only encountered it when asking the “Evil Eye” about the Queen.
Forget it... Lunch break is almost over. He had to get back to the factory quickly, otherwise, if misfortune struck, he wouldn’t be able to handle it.
The incident of falling into the furnace last ti was still fresh in his mind. Fortunately, his life was hard and his constitution tough; otherwise, he would have long beco a pile of ashes.
But recently, he found the pattern of the misfortune rule and gradually adapted to his current life. Although depressing, as long as there was improvent, he could accept it.
Maintaining the current rhythm of life, misfortune wouldn’t co knocking. And he was confident he could find the mastermind behind the letters.
It’s really great without misfortune.
Oppold casually picked up the “Evil Eye” and the rusty coin from the table. As he prepared to stuff them into his pocket, his heart skipped a beat.
Just now, his touch sensed that the coin slipped from his hand in a very incomprehensible way, falling towards the tabletop.
Not good!
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