Literary Salon

August 22, Wednesday, 3:00 PM. Hazy weather.

Holding the invitation Madam Nola had sent to his home the previous day, Sno arrived at this luxurious villa in Empress Borough.

As a landed nobleman who had inherited his title at a young age after his father's early death, Viscount Grellint could practically be called the social center of the younger generation of nobles.

It was not that everyone liked him. Rather, only he had the qualifications to host all manner of salons and balls as he pleased.

Balls hosted by ordinary noble heirs were either driven by their elders' political considerations or held as formal venues for social needs, while the drinking parties of middle-aged nobles were even more full of various restraints.

As a result, Viscount Grellint's mansion had practically become a holy gathering ground for Backlund's spoiled young heirs. This meant that among professions dependent on high society, such as writers, painters, and designers, many talented but inexperienced young practitioners regarded Viscount Grellint's salons as a ladder to success. So long as they caught the eye of a noble, they would immediately rise through the ranks.

These talented, well-presented young people in turn attracted many nobles interested in those industries, and there were even quite a few investments and business collaborations. As a result, Viscount Grellint's seemingly extravagant salons had instead become profitable ventures.

It felt a little like the virtuous cycle of an upscale club attracting high-end customers, thereby drawing in quality tea artists with enough capital and ambitions of climbing the social ladder, which then attracted even more wealthy tea drinkers.

And today, there were especially many guests here.

Relying on a face handsome beyond all reason, Sno was let in without the reception staff even checking his invitation. It suddenly gave him the feeling of a pretty girl getting free entry into an upscale bar.

Naturally, he did not care much about such convenience. Although it looked like he had accepted an unearned favor, owing someone a favor was sometimes more conducive to socializing.

"Little Sno, you're here?" For well-known reasons, Madam Mano had not come with Sno and had arrived ahead of him. Upon seeing him, she immediately hurried over in small steps and smilingly introduced him to several noble ladies she knew.

Sno's predecessor had been quite experienced with such social occasions, and before long, he had shed the awkwardness of being an outsider—

Of course, that was also because there were quite a few familiar faces present.

Wandering through the spacious banquet hall, occasionally lifting a glass of low-alcohol wine and chatting with the ladies and young misses who approached him, Sno found that although JoJo had only just begun serialization and his reputation as The Writer was far from enough to draw attention, he was handsome after all.

Arriving at a long table, he took a delicate-looking pastry and ate as he surveyed the banquet hall. His predecessor's connections were truly a little frightening. Among the women in the hall, even counting the fashion designers, jewelry designers, painters, and novelists, Sno recognized nearly thirty percent of their faces.

And that recognition rate was basically equivalent to Sno's customer list.

Secretly advancing his Sequence Seven Beyonder Ability, he entered the state of Cannot Be Seen By Anyone. On the one hand, this allowed him to avoid the attention of any Spectators or other Beyonders who might be in the banquet hall; on the other, it better concealed the fluctuations caused by using a Beyonder Ability.

Only after completing all this did Sno start walking toward several ladies who looked vaguely familiar but whom he did not actually know.

The lady was half leaning in a corner, lazily sipping a cocktail. Her fingertips bore faint traces of smoke stains, her hair was fluffy and slightly curled, and her light-blue eyes lacked focus, giving her the impression of someone detached from the world, yet seemingly waiting for someone.

"Uh, so this 'Psyduck nobody can see through' also came with a 'Marshtomp that can see through everyone'?" Sno mocked the Ability he had advanced. Was this what one should expect from a profession that could advance through the Psychiatrist potion? Even borrowing only a little passive skill still came with exceptional powers of observation.

Handing his plate to a passing waiter, Sno approached the lady at an unhurried pace and offered an approachable smile.

"Beautiful lady, my name is Sno, Sno von Pandax. May I have the pleasure of getting to know you?"

Fors slightly frowned at the man who had suddenly appeared before her. He was indeed very pleasing to the eye, and his manner was polite, but for some reason, looking at him gave her a sense that he lacked any real impression. Simply put, if she looked away, she felt she would soon forget what he looked like.

Though she did not particularly want to speak, Fors understood that she could not act too aloof at a literary salon like this, especially when she could not rattle off every guest's name from memory.

Viscount Grellint had been able to help get Xio out; the man before her might just as easily get her locked up.

"Honestly, why did Miss Audrey insist on communicating at an occasion like this? Couldn't she have had that dog... mm, that Beyonder creature that looks like a dog pass along whatever she wanted to say?"

Fors silently complained, but she still forced out a smile.

"Hello, Mr. Sno. I'm Fors, Fors Wall."

"So it's Senior Fors. Your Storm of the Century has remained deeply impressed on my mind to this day. I happen to have a novel currently serialized in the Tussock Newspaper as well. Would you be willing to exchange ideas?"

In truth, Sno had been a little socially anxious in his previous life, but his predecessor had suffered from social butterfly syndrome—

"Tussock Newspaper? I remember there being a novel whose author was called Sno. Xio seemed to like it quite a bit... Was it called Phantom Blood?"

Fors thought with a headache. Although she had confirmed that he was not a noble, it was still inappropriate to put on a cold expression at a time like this. She could only reluctantly pull herself together, put on a social smile, and make awkward conversation with Sno based on the scattered bits she had heard from Xio.

However, Sno also understood that too much was as bad as too little. After leaving behind a slight impression, he smiled, bade her farewell, and left. Watching the handsome man turn away, Fors let out a small sigh of relief. Yet before she could return to her lazy, relaxed manner, a figure entered the banquet hall.

At that instant, the sounds in the banquet hall fell silent for a moment. As Backlund's most dazzling jewel, this young lady was undoubtedly the noblest guest at today's salon.

However, Miss Audrey, who had attended every kind of social occasion since childhood, clearly knew how to blend into a social environment. Before long, the disturbance caused by her arrival had been soothed. Yet no one seemed to notice that after brushing past a handsome man, her expression had become somewhat more "sincere."

From that moment onward, any Spectator could only read from Miss Justice the information they hoped to see.

Everyone thinks they can see through Snorlax.jpg

PS1: Take a guess—what is Sequence Seven called?

PS2: Regarding Loss of Control for a Faceless, the key for a Faceless is not forgetting who they are, not being unable to casually change their appearance. When you cosplay, do you forget that you are cosplaying? In a sense, cosplaying in bed is less likely to cause Loss of Control than disguising yourself as someone else in daily life, because no matter how many settings you add or how elaborate a backstory you construct, at the very least, you will not forget that you are yourself...