They quickly found the room "Master Lars" commonly used inside the club.
The moment Iver entered, he felt a kind of impact:
The room was covered in red cloth—beneath the solid-colored red cloth was another sheet of red cloth with a subtly different shade, and beneath that was yet another red cloth of a different color.
The ceiling and floor were respectively white and black. The only decoration in the room that was not a solid color was probably the lamp overhead.
The window stood open, and the cold wind outside flowed in, blowing the red cloth into a loud flutter.
It looked like layer upon layer of red skirts, swaying and dancing on their own in the breeze. The difference in color between each sheet of red cloth was as slight as the shades of lipstick.
Under the sunlight filtering in from outside and the ever-burning lights illuminating the room, it was even harder to see any difference between them.
Not long after entering the room, Iver felt his eyes growing tired. The red that filled his entire field of vision and danced at high frequency made him dizzy, while looking directly at the lightbulb was out of the question. He could only lower his head... His eyes only saw flashes of green, and even after he closed them, the green refused to disappear.
"This is Master Lars's private room. He often meditates here."
Mycroft closed the door and introduced it softly. "He calls this place the 'Green Room.'"
Iver smacked his lips.
He realized that Lars's mental state was probably not very good...
Or perhaps... staying in a place like this for too long would only make one feel more uncomfortable.
"Where are his relics?"
Iver asked bluntly, "Let's finish this quickly and get out. This place makes