Chapter 233 - 233 Advance Payment
233 Advance Payment
Realizing the lateness of the hour, Lumian planned on delving into Aurore’s grimoire until midnight. He resolved to seek out Franca the next morning and inquire about the sale of Harvest Sacrifice. Additionally, he intended to ask her to keep a watchful eye on the supplementary ingredients like Fire Salamander blood and Magma Pyroxene powder.
Hmm, Franca is known for her late sleeping habits. If I go searching for her now, she’ll surely still be awake. Most likely, she’ll be asleep before 11 a.m. tomorrow… Taking this into consideration, Lumian had a change of heart. He tidied the wooden table, rose from his seat, and departed from Auberge du Coq Doré.
3 Rue des Blouses Blanches, in front of Apartment 601.
After knocking a few times, Lumian caught sight of Franca. Her flaxen locks were disheveled, and she wore a lake-blue silk nightgown as she opened the door.
“What’s the matter this time?” the Witch inquired, a smile gracing her lips as she stepped aside to make way.
Lumian didn’t respond immediately. He glanced around and inquired, “Is Jenna not here?”
Unconsciously, Franca’s smile faded away.
“Are you here for her? She doesn’t have to perform tonight. She left early today.”
Lumian nodded.
“That’s good. I won’t have to climb the outer wall and leave later then.”
“…” Franca’s lips twitched, and she clicked her tongue with a chuckle. “So, you’ve come to mock me?”
After playing a simple prank, Lumian settled himself on the gray divan.
Just as he was about to speak, Franca, who had curled up in the recliner, causing her nightgown’s hem to slip, let out a soft chuckle.
“You missed quite a show in the market district this afternoon.
“The police took care of all the places tied to the mob. Brignais, Simon, Christo, and Black were all apprehended and brought to the police headquarters. They nearly fell into the clutches of the official Beyonders and received their customary treatment. Luckily, Gardner managed to contact the newly elected Hugues Artois and convinced him to exert pressure on the two Churches and the police headquarters. By throwing a few scapegoats under the bus, the matter was resolved.”
Hugues Artois is indeed in cahoots with the Boss… Lumian chuckled.
“You didn’t get caught?”
“I didn’t go to any of those locations today. I spent the whole afternoon playing Fighting Evil with Jenna and my star dancer. Why would I get caught? You see, there’s nothing wrong with being lazy. My favorite saying is that lazy people are blessed by being lazy,” Franca replied, amused.
“I’ve never heard that before,” Lumian asked casually. “Where does this proverb come from?”
“I made it up,” Franca replied nonchalantly.
Pondering Franca’s explanation, Lumian’s suspicions were confirmed.
“Did Jenna suggest staying indoors in the afternoon and playing cards?”
“How did you know?” Franca exclaimed in surprise.
She scrutinized Lumian, her gaze turning suspicious.
Could it be that Jenna told him herself? Had they shared so much in private?
Lumian had nothing to hide and spoke frankly, “Charlie paid me a visit today, and Jenna happened to be there. From him, I learned that the official Beyonders and the police headquarters planned a joint operation to clean up the mobsters in the market district this afternoon.
“I advised Jenna to keep it a secret so as not to trouble Charlie. And it seems she’s proven to be trustworthy. She simply kept you occupied in the apartment,” Lumian explained.
Franca’s face brightened with understanding. “No wonder you weren’t around in the afternoon.”
A smug expression crossed her features. “Jenna is still on my side!”
She let out a satisfied sigh before curiosity tinged her voice as Franca asked warily, “Why did Jenna come to you?”
Lumian smiled knowingly. “After the demise of ‘Black Scorpion’ Roger, she finds me suspicious due to my ongoing conflict with the Poison Spur Mob.”
Franca’s response was a mix of relief and amusement.
“The Aurora Order ended up being the scapegoat in this case.”
“Since I arrived in Trier, I’ve noticed in the newspapers that whenever something happened, the terrorist group known as the Aurora Order would claim responsibility. But I never imagined that we would finally get a taste of that treatment. The subsequent investigations were misled, and no one suspected us.”
The Aurora Order is indeed responsible for this… After Lumian mocked Franca, he steered the conversation back on track.
“Taking advantage of the situation, I attended a mysticism gathering in the afternoon and managed to obtain the formula for the Pyromaniac potion, as well as some clues about its main ingredient.”
“You’re quite fortunate,” Franca exclaimed, her eyes widening slightly. “If we weren’t in Intis, I’d doubt your story. It’s only in Intis that the Pyromaniac potion formula is so readily available.”
Lumian then made a request.
“Please help me keep an eye on the supplementary ingredients: Fire Salamander’s blood, Magma Pyroxene powder, and Redcrown Balsam.”
He omitted mentioning Sun Star, as it was relatively common and could be found in larger flower shops.
“No problem,” Franca assured him. She inquired about the quantities of each ingredient in detail before raising another concern. “Do you have enough money? I mean, enough to purchase the main ingredient for the potion.”
From her perspective, Lumian had likely spent all his savings on the Pyromaniac potion formula.
Lumian seized the opportunity to respond, “Actually, I was just about to ask if Harvest Sacrifice had been sold.”
“How can it be sold so soon? It’s only been a day! I haven’t even had the chance to attend any mysticism gatherings,” Franca replied, pausing before offering a solution. “If you urgently need money, I can lend you some. After all, I don’t have any immediate need for the next potion.”
“There’s no rush,” Lumian replied after considering the matter.
He still needed to gather all the supplementary ingredients.
Franca estimated, “Based on my experience, Harvest Sacrifice won’t fetch a high price due to its inevitable side effects. You can expect it to sell for around 10,000 to 12,000 verl d’or.”
“When you need the money, I can directly provide you with 6,000 verl d’or, considering it a buyout of Harvest Sacrifice. Additionally, I can lend you 20,000 to 30,000 verl d’or, but you must return it within three months.”
“Alright,” Lumian agreed without hesitation.
He then produced Fallen Mercury and said to Franca, “I need to find someone who can repair Beyonder weapons.”
Franca examined the dirk with its ominous patterns and asked in confusion, “What’s the point of repairing a Beyonder weapon? Its energy will deplete eventually.”
“It’s tremendously useful. I want to utilize it for as long as possible,” Lumian admitted, though he naturally refrained from mentioning that he had a means to replenish Fallen Mercury’s energy.
Of course, he had to wait until he reached Sequence 6 and could withstand the corruption. Otherwise, Termiboros would undoubtedly seize the opportunity to cause trouble.
“That’s true,” Franca recalled Fallen Mercury’s impressive performance in the battle against “Black Scorpion” Roger. “I’ll help you inquire, but no Artisan would likely accept the task of repairing a suspected corrupted Beyonder weapon. They fear the potential adverse effects it could have on them.”
Artisan… a Beyonder skilled in repairing mystical items and Beyonder weapons? After exchanging a few more words with Franca, Lumian left Room 601 and returned to Avenue du Marché, entering Salle de Bal Brise.
Despite it almost being midnight, the place was still bustling. Lumian made his way to the finance office on the second floor corridor. As he unlocked the safe, he asked about the accountant and the cashier on the night shift.
“How much cash do we have at the moment?”
The accountant, a refined bespectacled woman in her thirties, replied with a hint of apprehension, “Approximately 28,000 verl d’or and some change.”
Lumian had already opened the safe’s door by then, revealing stacks of banknotes and shimmering golden coins.
After a quick calculation, he calmly requested, “Give me 12,000 verl d’or.”
“Huh?” Both the accountant and the cashier exclaimed fearfully.
While Monsieur Ciel was the protector of Salle de Bal Brise, taking away such a substantial amount of cash in one go was unthinkable!
The accountant exchanged a glance with the young cashier, silently indicating her to find the dance hall manager, René, in the adjacent office.
Dressed in formal attire, Gardner Martin’s designated representative glanced at the open safe and inquired, “Monsieur Ciel, why do you need to withdraw 12,000 verl d’or?”
“Personal expenses,” Lumian replied calmly.
René pondered for a few seconds before responding, “No problem.
“In the first two years, Baron Brignais would take between 40,000 and 50,000 verl d’or from the dance hall annually. During the transition, he even withdrew 15,000 verl d’or, which would have counted as part of the first half of the year. And it’s not even the second half yet. Monsieur Ciel, consider this 12,000 verl d’or an advance.”
“Sure.” Lumian didn’t concern himself with the details; he simply wanted the 12,000 verl d’or!
After securing the cash in a cloth bag, Lumian let out a silent sigh of relief.
He had nearly gathered the required 30,000 verl d’or to purchase the Pyromaniac Beyonder characteristic. Now, all he had to do was await news of the supplementary ingredients!
Currently, he possessed a total of 26,710 verl d’or. With an additional 6,000 from the Harvest Sacrifice, he would have enough.
As Lumian, laden with a significant amount of cash, left Salle de Bal Brise, a sense of unease suddenly washed over him.
He wasn’t afraid of being robbed; rather, he worried that a conflict might damage the money bag or tear the banknotes.
I must find a safe place for it. I can’t keep carrying it like this… Lumian strolled along Avenue du Marché, contemplating transferring the funds to the safe house.
Before long, his eyes caught sight of the brightly illuminated office belonging to the market district’s member of parliament.
It stood as a classic four-story building, boasting a khaki-colored façade with statues adorning the top two floors—a Sunbird and Giant Gears.
The celebration banquet is still underway… Lumian shook his head disapprovingly.
Pausing for a moment, he settled in the shadows across the street, observing the departing guests from the banquet hall.
Hugues Artois, who enjoyed the combined support of the Savoie Mob and the Poison Spur Mob, not to mention Lady Moon’s praise, was undoubtedly a man of influence. Some of the guests he had invited could very well be problematic individuals connected to the schemes of the Iron and Blood Cross Order.
As time went by, an increasing number of guests emerged from the member of parliament’s office. Lumian found no one who aroused suspicion. He could only confirm that most of them belonged to the upper echelons of society. They were elegantly attired, and their faces had graced the pages of various newspapers.
Suddenly, a familiar figure caught his eye.
It was Gardner Martin, an amiable man with chubby cheeks, a few silver strands of hair at his temples, and brownish-red eyes!
Gardner Martin, the boss of the Savoie Mob!
Dressed in a tailcoat and a dark bow tie, Gardner seemed to sense something. He abruptly turned his head, fixing his gaze on the shadowy spot where Lumian sat.
Lumian’s heart skipped a beat.
His thoughts raced, and he swiftly made up his mind. Rising to his feet, he approached Gardner Martin.
Gardner Martin regarded him with a penetrating stare, revealing no trace of emotion.
“Good evening, Boss,” Lumian greeted as he drew nearer.
Gardner Martin asked nonchalantly, “What brings you here?”
Lumian replied candidly, “I left Salle de Bal Brise and noticed that the member of parliament’s office banquet was still ongoing. I thought I’d check which guests Monsieur Hugues Artois had invited, so as to avoid offending the wrong people in the future.”
Gardner Martin nodded subtly and spoke calmly, “That’s a commendable habit.”
With a gesture signaling Lumian to depart, he proceeded towards a private carriage, accompanied by Butler Faustino.
Lumian’s heart stirred as he followed suit, taking the initiative to speak, “Boss, I took an advance of 12,000 verl d’or from the dance hall today.”