Arthur noticed something was wrong.
When he had seen the text prompt just now, he had instinctively felt that he should burn the painting he had just made-it was an instinct from the depths of a living creature's soul. Though he had never encountered anything like this before, the reaction felt as if countless ancestors had branded it into his soul.
Burn it! Burn it!
Only when the flames rose did the unease in his heart disappear completely.
But Arthur's gaze turned to his stats panel-
[Spirituality: 0.2]
Every change had a reason!
Everything that happened had its own cause and effect!
Nothing could happen for no reason!
Arthur had never encountered anything like this before, but after his [Spirituality] increased by 0.1, he had run into this bizarre incident.
For a moment, all sorts of guesses surfaced in Arthur's mind.
His expression gradually darkened.
None of those guesses were good.
The worst one in particular made Arthur raise a hand to rub between his brows-
The higher his spirituality, the greater his chance of encountering supernatural incidents!
The mystical side offered more than alluring power, a life full of wonders, and encounters straight out of a romance. It also held...
Danger!
These dangers were often accompanied by death.
And the cause of that death might be the very power you longed for, the wondrous life you wanted to enjoy, or an extraordinary encounter that everyone sought but few ever found.
Of course, the most likely cause was the sort of "indescribable" thing Arthur had just encountered.
Arthur did not know what kind of soul would merge into his painting, either.
But burning it was the best choice.
At that moment, he desperately wanted to learn more about the mystical side, including, but not limited to, his conjectures about spirituality and its many rules.
His conjecture about spirituality was especially important.
Because if his guess was correct, he would inevitably become trapped in a vicious cycle:
He sought power, but power brought spirituality, and spirituality brought unknown things that would threaten him!
Once that threat exceeded what he could handle, what would happen?
Death!
Death, without a doubt!
And not an easy death, either!
It might very well be a fate worse than death, like...
That beggar!
The mere thought of becoming like that beggar, foolish one moment and raving mad the next, made Arthur's scalp prickle.
As for giving up power?
For Arthur, that was even more impossible.
In this world, having no power meant being at others' mercy.
He might even die faster than if he chose the former.
Was this why the mystical side had gradually declined?
Had they never found a way to protect themselves?
Or did such methods exist, but remain secret?
More guesses surfaced. Arthur took several deep breaths before suppressing his chaotic thoughts.
He knew anxiety would only lead him to make errors in judgment.
And letting his imagination run wild would leave him utterly defeated.
What he needed to do now was patiently wait for news from Wiggins, and... attend Malinda Julius Caesar's salon.
Attending the Lady of the Long Night's Salon had already been arranged.
Arthur would not go back on his word.
When night had fully fallen and Edwin knocked on the door of 2 Kirk Street, Arthur put on his black double-breasted trench coat. Its silver buttons gleamed beneath the bright lights of the Lada Carriage. Paired with his clean leather shoes, it made the already handsome Arthur look even more striking, while the Medium's Case in his hand lent the young man an added air of mystery.
"Good evening, Mr. Credos."
Edwin greeted Arthur and bowed as he opened the carriage door.
"Good evening, Edwin."
Arthur returned the greeting, but inwardly frowned.
Edwin was Miss Caesar's coachman. By rights, he should serve only her.
Yet now her coachman had driven her carriage here to pick him up.
This was the ceremony reserved for welcoming the most honored guests, an exceptionally grand gesture. But Miss Caesar's elaborate courtesy did not leave Arthur feeling overwhelmed by the honor.
On the contrary, his vigilance rose another notch.
He clearly remembered the polite tone this coachman had used when he said he would pick him up. In Arthur's understanding, that meant Miss Caesar would send a carriage, not her own coachman driving her own carriage.
Doing this attracted far too much attention.
Just then, Edwin spoke.
"My apologies."
His voice was so low that only the two of them could hear it.
Arthur boarded the carriage without betraying anything, but inwardly, he found it stranger still.
Because he knew Edwin was apologizing on his mistress's behalf.
It was probably at Miss Caesar's instruction.
The lady had done something rash, then immediately expressed her apologies to him.
That meant-
She was in a situation where she had no choice!
Was someone watching her?
Arthur narrowed his eyes, considering what this implied and weighing the risks against the rewards.
Soon, he concluded that the risks were low and the rewards worthwhile.
It was simple. If her life were truly in danger, her coachman would never have appeared. Even the salon would have been canceled.
She was probably in a situation where she knew she was being watched but could not openly break with the watcher, leaving her no choice but to divert their attention.
At that thought, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief.
But he did not stop thinking.
Assuming she has no choice and needs me to draw someone else's attention, then... what does she intend to do afterward?
Arthur's brows knitted tightly.
He knew too little about Miss Caesar. Even he could not deduce anything at this point.
But there was one thing Arthur was certain of.
The lady was seeking cooperation!
Immediately, a gleam appeared in Arthur's narrowed eyes.
He could practically see a huge haul of XP beckoning to him.
"Mr. Credos, we're setting off!"
After calling out, Edwin flicked his whip.
Crack!
With a crisp snap, the carriage set off. It traveled at a steady, even pace, and Arthur did not feel the slightest jolt.
Knowing the condition of Kirk Street's road all too well, Arthur sincerely admired Edwin's driving skills. Even in this Lada Carriage, no one else could have kept the ride so smooth and steady.
As Miss Caesar's coachman, however, such skill was essential.
The carriage traveled smoothly along West Merck Avenue and Garden Street. At the end of Garden Street, it turned onto Shaded Lane, passed Fountain Square, and finally reached their destination: Whitebird District.
If Garden Street was a residential area for the ordinary middle class, and Kirk Street was the first choice for well-off middle-class families, then Whitebird District was where the truly wealthy chose to live.
Not only was the setting beautiful and right beside Fountain Square, but the Count's residence was also only a short distance away.
Of course, the most important thing was safety.
There was a guard post at Fountain Square.
An entire squad of patrol officers was stationed there, preventing anyone who did not live in Whitebird District from approaching Fountain Square.
That was right!
The entire one-kilometer stretch from Fountain Square to Whitebird District had also been incorporated into Whitebird District.
With a familiar face like Edwin driving, Arthur's carriage naturally passed without being stopped.
Seeing this made Arthur even more certain of his earlier guess.
Miss Caesar was being watched, but she was not in danger.
That was very good news for him.
Because it meant that if the two of them cooperated, it would be-
Low risk, high reward!
That was what everyone wanted!
Arthur was no exception.
The carriage continued on, reaching 6 Whitebird Street without any obstruction. Rather than stopping, it drove straight into the courtyard.
At the open iron gates, attendants welcomed one guest after another.
The Lada Carriage, which would make all of Kirk Street seem congested as it passed through, looked perfectly at home in this courtyard. Even with three other carriages parked beside it, the courtyard did not seem crowded.
Not even with so many people standing inside it.
There were attendants as well as guests.
The attendants wore smiles as they diligently served each guest.
The guests chatted animatedly in groups of three or five, or strolled through the courtyard in pairs. With music drifting out from the hall, everything seemed so lovely and inviting.
But when Edwin opened the carriage door and Arthur stepped down, guests and attendants alike turned their eyes toward him at the same instant.
Clearly, they all recognized Edwin, as well as Malinda Julius Caesar's carriage.
As they watched Arthur alight, many began guessing at his identity.
The young ladies in particular gazed at Arthur's handsome face, quietly covering their mouths as they giggled.
The slightly older ladies were much bolder. They gathered in small groups and openly appraised Arthur.
The ladies' unusual behavior naturally triggered a chain reaction among the gentlemen.
The older men merely watched with smiles, as though reminiscing about their youth.
The younger gentlemen, driven by their hormones, stared at Arthur like fighting cocks.
Despite being the focus of everyone's attention, Arthur remained perfectly composed.
To Arthur, a crowd of harmless people was nothing more than a pile of pumpkins.
Compared with them, he was far more interested in the Lady of the Long Night.
Because at that moment, he finally understood what Malinda Julius Caesar intended to do!
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