Chapter 300 "Don't Care"
"This snooping comes from the 'Fallen Creator'. You don't need to care about it, but don't reveal the secrets here."
Mr. Fool, who was shrouded in gray fog at the head of the long table, knocked on the tabletop and spoke in a low voice.
This statement reassured everyone in the Tarot Club: Mr. Fool already knew that the Peeper was the "True Creator" and didn't take it to heart at all.
"The same response I gave when I reported the Witch Cult's pursuit of the Tarot Society..."
Angel thought to himself, glancing at the other members. The Hanged Man seemed lost in thought, and Sun looked a bit bewildered. Justice and the Magician beside him must have been briefed on the relevant information in advance, so they didn't seem overly surprised. As for Mr. World...
She looked towards the end of the long table. The man in a hooded robe, his face shrouded in gray mist, was the same as usual, not moving at all, making it impossible to guess what he was thinking.
"Thank you for your reminder, Mr. Fool," Miss Justice spoke first. She looked around and waited for everyone's attention to focus before continuing, "But we still need to keep a low profile, especially in Backlund, where there are many secret sects and the Aurora Society is very powerful."
"I'm still at sea, so there's no need to worry about the Aurora Society coming looking for me. But it's best for you to have less contact with them in Backlund. Haha, I remember I mentioned this a long time ago."
The Hanged Man chuckled and responded, his gaze moving from Angel through Justice to the Magician.
Obviously, he thought that these people were in Backlund and that they should be more careful.
"I think the one we need to worry about most is Mr. Sun. One of his elders is a believer in the True Creator," the world said in a hoarse voice, looking at the Sun beside the Hanged Man. "Did you prepare a proper cover-up before attending the Tarot Club today?"
The tall Mr. Sun stood straight and replied:
"Yes, I will sleep alone and enter here in my dreams. Now I have developed the habit of taking irregular breaks, so that when Mr. Fool notifies me, I can attend the party without arousing suspicion."
"Good, you're a fast learner."
The Hanged Man, who had taught him many times how to evade censorship through crooked means, said this with relief.
After agreeing to keep a low profile at least until the end of the year, everyone turned to the next topic. Miss "Magician" shared her experience of meeting a member of the Abraham family and asked everyone if they were familiar with the history of this family.
Mr. Hanged Man, who had gained 500 pounds in the transaction with Angel, was in good spirits. He shared his historical knowledge for free and told the story of the rise and fall of this ancient family originating from the Quaternary Period.
Angel had already known about this from the information within the Church of Evernight and the notes of the descendants of Abraham, but Miss Magician was still listening with great interest, which made her suspect that she was also a newcomer to the mysticism.
…
After a flash of crimson light, Angel returned to her study. She quickly went to the basement and took out the "Shepherd" Beyonder attribute that belonged to Ms. D, which glowed in the darkness, and presented it to Mr. Fool through a sacrificial ceremony.
A moment later, as the gray mist rose, a new scene appeared in her mind.
Mr. Hanged Man, still wearing a hood, but with a tuft of dark blue hair sticking out of the brim, responded: "Thank you, Mr. Fool. I have received the production fee and the Beyonder characteristics. Please tell Miss Queen that if nothing unexpected happens, I will be able to give her the magical item through sacrifice before the next Tarot meeting. I hope she can make up the remaining 500 pounds by then."
He replied to me specifically to remind me about the 500 pounds...
Angel was a little nervous at first, after all, the value of a Sequence 5 Beyonder was over 8,000 pounds, but after receiving the Hanged Man's reply, she felt helpless.
After purchasing the materials and making the communication potion, she had less than 700 pounds in cash. After paying the 500 pounds "introduction fee" this week, she would soon fall into poverty again.
"I have to find a way to make money. I recently offended the Aurora Society, and we have to prevent them from pursuing the Tarot Society. I can't go to Mr. A's gatherings. It seems I can only sell some formulas or magical items at other gatherings... I wonder if anyone will buy the skeleton key?"
Thinking of ways to make money in her mind, she left the dark basement.
————
On Wednesday afternoon, Angel came to Sevilla's house as usual to report on what had happened in the past few days.
The Witch of Pleasure, whose skin had become somewhat dull from attending various banquets every night, yawned as she received her. Upon learning that Sherman had finally begun planning to assassinate a certain target, Sylvia commented with disdain:
"Perhaps bringing him into the sect was a mistake. Originally, these 'assassins' were supposed to be trained by the 'Gnosis Society', and only those with outstanding abilities were sent here. Unfortunately, these rules aren't being followed these days..."
Angel originally thought that the Gnosis Society was a secret sect similar to the Witch Cult, focusing on the "Assassin" and "Apprentice" paths, but after hearing what Sylvia said, they seemed to be a subordinate organization of the Witch Cult, recruiting subordinates and providing talents for the sect.
She secretly memorized this information and answered casually:
"Perhaps he just lacks some experience. No one is born a skilled 'assassin'."
"Hmph, he's already handed it over to you anyway. As long as he doesn't betray me, you don't need to tell me anything else." Sylvia waved her hand uninterestedly. "The dance I mentioned to you last time is tomorrow night. Get ready and come to my house this afternoon."
"Prepare?"
"Clothing and etiquette all require careful preparation. You've already attended numerous salons and tea parties among the nobility. The nighttime ball will only be more formal than those. Remember to read the aristocratic etiquette manual I gave you. Don't make a fool of yourself tomorrow night. You'll become the center of attention, and you don't want to have that experience."
Sylvia picked up the coffee and took a sip. The black coffee without sugar made her feel much more energetic, and her tone was also a little mocking.
"I wanted to ask last time, why do you need me to attend that ball?" Angel frowned and asked back, "Could it be that you want to introduce me to some noble? Oh, it's a pity that no one would be interested."
Sylvia sneered at this sarcastic question.
"You think too highly of yourself. The mission with Earl Hall's family has come to an end. I'm just helping you find something else to do, like keeping an eye on a certain young lady and preventing her from wandering around and ruining our plan."
"A plan? The kind that looks like you're doing something for the sect, but is actually just to increase the value of your assets?"
Angel also refuted without any hesitation. After these days of contact, she had already figured out the temperament of this witch of joy. As long as the tasks assigned by her were completed, she would not use her power to bully others or act like a superior in ordinary verbal disputes.
"Hmph. First of all, promoting the Air Pollution Committee's actions is also part of the plan. I'm just leveraging their influence. Secondly, I'm not talking about some petty stunt, but a truly grand plan. You just need to know that if this succeeds, our contributions will make the road to promotion incredibly smooth."
Big plan... Is the big event that Laura mentioned about to happen?
Recalling his conversation with Laura, Angel asked calmly:
"A truly big plan, carried out by the two of us? That doesn't sound so 'big'..."
"Know your place, witch. I'm one of the executors, and you're just a pawn." These slightly sarcastic words really made Sylvia sit up straight. "Besides, that lady will return to Backlund at the beginning of next month. Then you'll have the chance to see the true 'demigod, half-human'."
After saying this, she herself revealed a hint of longing and expectation.
————
When we followed Sylvia in Baron Langdon's carriage to a manor in Queens, the sky had already darkened completely. A gradually round red moon hung high in the sky, casting moonlight on the earth through the rare thin mist.
Angel was wearing a long dress with an intricate design today. It had three layers of petticoats inside. She put it on with the help of Sevilla's maid. She also used a pearl necklace of Sevilla's as jewelry. She originally wanted Angel to wear earrings, but gave up because she didn't have any piercings.
Fortunately, she has been wearing long skirts and dancing shoes as her daily attire these days. Otherwise, if she were to wear this heavy long skirt now, she might really make a fool of herself as Sylvia said, and "become the focus of the whole audience."
Entering the main hall with stained glass and crystal ceiling lights, Angel was immediately shocked by the luxury here. She originally thought it was just a small social dance, but it was unexpectedly beyond her imagination.
The two floors of the hall are connected. The first floor is arranged in the form of a dance hall in the center and bands on both sides. To the sound of melodious music, many men and women are dancing gracefully. At first glance, they are all young aristocratic men and women.
The second-floor corridors stretched all around, and guests leaned against the railings, chatting in low voices, their eyes occasionally glancing at the first-floor lobby. Busy waiters moved through the halls, serving drinks and collecting empty glasses. Occasionally, a gentleman would approach a woman and invite her to dance, and the two would then descend to the center of the first floor and dance to the music.
"That's Viscount Caraton's son. Next to him is Baron Fanis. He's been a bit down lately," Sylvia glanced at the guests one by one and whispered to Angel beside her, "The one in the red dress in the distance is Viscount Winster's widow. She's dressed very boldly today. She must have feelings for someone..."
Angel expressionlessly followed Sylvia as she got to know Backlund's upper-middle class circles. He casually glanced around and suddenly noticed a familiar man walking towards them.
"This is... Viscount Greylint. I think you are already familiar with him."
Sylvia also noticed the person coming, whispered something, and went to meet him.
"Your Excellency, Viscount, I didn't expect to see you here."
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