401 Dreamwalker
From Loki losing control and collapsing without being completely dead, Lumian had been vigilant about being reported by the core members of the April Fool’s team and staying prepared for potential surprise attacks from official Beyonders. After all, Loki knew that he was Lumian Lee, a leader of the Savoie Mob, overseeing Salle de Bal Brise. He even knew that Lumian carried the aura of the Blood Emperor Alista Tudor.

In the end, official Beyonders merely approached the market district’s police headquarters to inquire about the abnormality that night and to see if Ciel Dubois, a capable mob leader, knew anything.

This convinced Lumian that the April Fool’s team still had their sights set on him. They were reluctant to hand their target over to the authorities or force him out of the market district where they could no longer keep an eye on him.

It had to be known that a marionette sealed with an angel was undoubtedly an item that could cause Loki’s strength to undergo a significant transformation. Missing out on Lumian meant he could almost never meet another one.

Furthermore, the Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth for Blessings might have a use for Termiboros.

The core members of the April Fool’s team were quite direct about this matter. They didn’t bother concealing their mockery and malice. They believed Lumian could see through it and expected him to be provoked, eventually choosing to wait in the market district.

When to make their move was entirely up to them. They wouldn’t recklessly attack while Lumian had assistance.

Jenna sensed the anger and hostility lurking beneath Lumian’s composed demeanor and calm words. She didn’t attempt to persuade him further and simply mumbled, “I hope these villains get what’s coming to them.”

Lumian’s emotions had been on an upheaval, causing the lingering effects of his near-loss of control to resurface.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his right hand and massaged his temples to ease the pounding in his head.

“What’s wrong?” Jenna asked, her concern evident.

Lumian replied succinctly, “The mental trauma from the battle with Loki will take a week or two to fully heal.”

Jenna’s eyes darted as she offered, “Do you want me to give you a head massage? Franca taught me. I’m quite skilled at it.

“Don’t be shy. We’re friends, after all!”

Her last statement trailed off playfully, an attempt to divert Lumian’s attention and alleviate his emotional state with a teasing tone.

Lumian scoffed.

“Why do you keep saying that from time to time? ‘Franca mentioned this, Franca taught me that.'”

“Don’t you often…” Jenna started but abruptly stopped herself.

Initially, she had intended to say, “Don’t you often say, ‘My sister said that, my sister taught me that.'”

Lumian fell silent, and Jenna did the same. After a few seconds, seeing that Lumian didn’t object, Jenna left the chair armrest and moved behind him. She reached out and began massaging his temples and both sides of his head.

Lumian’s body tensed up.

Jenna playfully teased, “Have you never been intimate with a girl before?”

Lumian scoffed. “As a Hunter, I would instinctively throw anyone who dared to touch my head or bestow them with a massive fireball. It took a lot of effort not to roast you.”

Amused and exasperated, Jenna tightened her grip.

“Did the Provoker potion completely alter your language and speech patterns?”

Lumian responded bluntly, “Yo, why the fancy words?”

As the two of them bantered, Lumian’s body gradually relaxed. After a few minutes, he leaned back on the sofa and half-closed his eyes.

While enjoying Jenna’s massage and relieving his headache, he naturally brought up the “pranks” of Loki, I Know Someone, and the other core members of the April Fool’s team. Jenna’s anger flared, and she subconsciously tightened her grip.

“Take it easy,” Lumian said with a hint of physical discomfort.

An Assassin possessed considerable strength.

Jenna eased her grip, still fuming.

“I’ve never encountered such scoundrels or vile individuals in all my performances. They deserve every bit of suffering!

“Dammit, why am I not a Witch yet?”

Lumian’s eyes remained closed as he asked, “How’s the digestion with the Instigator potion? Have you grasped the principles of acting?”

Jenna’s attention shifted. As she continued to knead, she reflected, “There are currently two key points. First, Instigation is a means, not an end. Second, the essence of Instigation lies in understanding the core of the matter and the conditions of the people involved, not in the use of abilities. Additionally, I’ve come to a realization. Instigation will inevitably bring about consequences; it just depends on whom you want to face those consequences.”

“Not bad,” Lumian commended, a rare occurrence.

Standing behind him, Jenna lifted her chin modestly and said, “I find opportunities to practice every day, especially among theater actors and apprentices at places like Théâtre de l’Ancienne Cage à Pigeons, where conflicts are abundant. Instigating someone forces me to consider who I want to benefit and who will be taught a lesson or suffer losses. It made me realize that instigation is merely a tool.”

Lumian’s demeanor noticeably softened as he let his thoughts wander. He casually inquired, “Where do you think I might find an opportunity to act as a Pyromaniac?”

Jenna’s hands continued their soothing motion as she thought and replied, “Trier is a place of relatively basic order. You can only act on smaller matters; you can’t create a major spectacle there…

“But there might be an opportunity during the pursuit of those villains. When you mentioned it earlier, I wanted to set them ablaze!”

Lumian suddenly had an idea, though it wasn’t entirely clear.

At that moment, footsteps echoed from the stairs, growing progressively louder.

Jenna released her grip on Lumian’s head and approached the door with a smile.

“Franca is back.”

…

In the bustling streets of Trier, the night might lack tranquility, but the citizens living in those areas still found their way into slumber.

In one person’s dream, they envisioned their children gradually improving and becoming healthier after consuming human blood bread.

Suddenly, a golden retriever carrying a small backpack made an appearance in the dream.

The golden retriever sat at the dream’s edge, guiding the hazy scenes to reveal hidden memories deep in the dreamer’s subconscious.

It was the excitement of pushing through the crowd and rushing towards the death row inmate’s corpse with bread in hand. It was the hesitation that came after believing that human blood bread could cure illnesses. It was the mixture of joy and skepticism that had accompanied their first hearing of this rumor…

The golden retriever caught sight of the figure who had initially informed the dreamer about the blood bread rumors. It turned out to be a neighbor who lived next door.

And so, the golden retriever traversed dream after dream, activating the corresponding subconscious memories to search for the source of the blood bread rumors.

After hundreds of dreams, the golden retriever noticed two dreams with clear contradictions.

One belonged to a father who believed that he had obtained the secret of human blood bread from a Warlock he happened to meet, using it to cure his daughter’s illness. The other dream belonged to his child, who had suddenly fallen ill and then just as suddenly recovered, as if the human blood bread was a miraculous elixir.

The golden retriever guided the father to manifest the Warlock in his dream.

It was very ordinary and unremarkable.

Scenes in the dream flickered rapidly, and the image of the Warlock began to change, memories flowing back.

When their initial encounter was revealed, the golden retriever saw a Warlock with a completely different face from before!
Then, the face rapidly shifted, eventually settling into the image the dreamer normally associated with the Warlock.

The golden retriever had her own interpretation of this.

The Warlock’s Hypnosis could only be fully effective in a face-to-face encounter, allowing the dreamer to retain their first impression of him. Only then would they be affected by the hypnosis and have the image in their memory altered.

There was no need to repeat the process of awakening the subconscious within the dream. The original image of the Warlock naturally surfaced in the golden retriever’s mind.

He had short brown hair, parted in a 3-7 split, flaxen-colored eyes, and a thin, freckled face. He wore gold-rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose…

Exiting the dream, the golden retriever turned her attention to Madam Magician, who had suddenly appeared beside her. In a human voice, she declared, “I’ve obtained a result.”

Dressed in a blouse and a long brown dress, Madam Magician sighed and eagerly said, “Give me the information, and I’ll confirm it.”

The golden retriever remained silent, her eyes darkening.

After a few seconds, Madam Magician took a few steps forward, causing starlight to manifest around her.

It resembled a reflection of the vast cosmos on the ground.

The resplendent and condensed stars spun rapidly, providing a revelation.

Once Madam Magician finished interpreting, she pulled open an illusory door hidden in the darkness and disappeared.

In just over ten seconds, she reappeared and said to the golden retriever, “There’s no target on the street the astromancy results point to.”

“Were we misled?” the golden retriever inquired in a female voice once more.

Madam Magician nodded and smirked. “But this also proves that what you’ve seen is the actual target.”

As she finished speaking, Madam Justice, clad in a white dress with green trimmings, swiftly materialized.

“Where did you go?” Magician asked in puzzlement.

Madam Justice replied in a gentle voice, “To plant a cue in the dreams of those seeking human blood bread. I’ve informed them that The Fool Pharmaceutical Company will conduct a volunteer consultation in Quartier de la Cathédrale Commémorative this weekend, offering free treatment and medicine.”

“When do you plan to hold the volunteer consultation?” Magician asked out of curiosity.

Madam Justice smiled.

“Tomorrow. I’ll sponsor it.”

…

At 6 a.m., Auberge du Coq Doré, Room 207.

Lumian naturally woke up from his dream and got ready for the day.

Before he could decide on breakfast, he noticed the “doll” messenger appearing and delivering a letter.

Puzzled, Lumian unfolded the letter and saw a portrait.

Beside the portrait was Madam Magician’s handwriting: “This should be what I Know Someone looks like. We’ll mobilize all the card holders in Trier to search for him, including you.”