Neighbors

Messy Street, "Golden Rooster Inn", Room 207.

Lumian tossed the crumpled newspaper onto the table and sat down on the edge of the bed.

After sitting for a few seconds, he simply lay down, feeling a deep exhaustion welling up from Depths his body, making it impossible for him to continue.

Only the physical and mental state is reset daily, not the spiritual state.

He didn't even bother to take off his clothes; he just kicked off his leather shoes and closed his eyes.

Lumian very soundly and peacefully, without having any dreams.

He was awakened by the smell of Sulfur, while the setting sun shone through the window.

Turning his head to look at the Glass Window stained with a hint of gold and red, Lumian muttered to himself with a self-deprecating tone:

"Have they slept for a whole day and night?"

Obviously, this is impossible, because he automatically wakes up at Six in the Morning.

After seeing the obituary and uncontrollably venting her grief, Lumian felt her emotions had stabilized somewhat, though she was still a little depressed.

Of course, he knew that the sadness wouldn't disappear, and the Pain even less so; it would soon return. He could only try his best to adjust his mindset and face it, so as not to fall back into that near-collapse state.

As for a little bit of extremism, madness, and self-destructive tendency, he felt it was unavoidable, as long as it wasn't serious.

"I'll need to do regular psychological therapy afterwards, otherwise I'll go completely insane before I complete my revenge and find a way to Resurrection Aurora." Lumian sighed and got out of bed.

He picked up the crumpled copy of "Novel Weekly" once more, gazing at the obituary on the front page, hoping to let the familiar pain in his heart fully awaken him.

Just then, Lumian discovered a problem.

This newspaper is from last week.

The newsboy sold him an expired newspaper!

"That's impossible. Newsboys wouldn't keep newspapers they can't sell..." Lumian frowned, feeling that there was something strange and coincidental about this matter.

He thought about it carefully and remembered something Lady "Psychiatrist" Susie had said:

"Often, it's not a good thing to completely suppress Pain and Despair inside; humans need to vent and relieve stress..."

Suddenly, Lumian had a sudden realization:

This is part of psychotherapy!

"Lady. Susie first pointed out that my mental state was not right and that I had a strong tendency to self-destruct. Then she gave me some initial guidance by talking about the hope of Resurrection Aurora. Finally, when I was wallowing in the Pain caused by this problem, she arranged for a newsboy to deliver the obituary published last week. The bloody facts shattered my defenses and allowed me to vent the Pain and Despair that had been suppressed Depths inside me..." Lumian muttered to himself.

After figuring it out, he felt quite fortunate that he had encountered a very professional and capable "Psychiatrist," otherwise he would have had a hard time struggling to climb out of his previous mental quagmire.

As Lumian's gaze wandered casually, he noticed several Bedbug crawling into his room.

His Sense of Smell told him that Sulfur was being burned in the next room to drive away Bedbug, but most of the Insects were afraid of his place and moved to another location.

Thinking back to their first day living there, when they and their next-door neighbor were "harming" each other by trying to get Bedbug into each other's rooms with Sulfur, Lumian couldn't help but chuckle.

He put on his leather shoes, walked out of the room, and came to the outside of room 206.

--On the second floor of the Golden Rooster Inn, there is a Washroom connected to rooms 201 to 204 in the alley behind the Messy Street. Opposite to Library 20 and 4 is another Washroom, and then in the opposite direction are rooms 205 to 208. There is a relatively large balcony on each side of the corridor. So, apart from the second floor, the third, fourth and fifth floors all have 10 rooms plus two Washroom.

Knock, knock, knock. Lumian curled her fingers and knocked on the door of room 206.

"Who is it?" a slightly flustered voice came from inside.

"From next door, 207," Lumian replied with a smile, "I'd like to get to know my neighbor."

A few seconds later, the door creaked open, and a thin young man appeared in front of Lumian.

He was less than 1.7 meters tall, wearing a faded Linen Shirt and black suspender trousers, with large Black-Rimmed Glasses perched on his nose. His brown hair was messy and greasy, as if he hadn't washed it for days, and his dark brown Eyes revealed an undisguised wariness.

"What can I do for you?" the man asked.

Lumian smiled and extended his right hand:

"I'll probably be staying here for a long time, and I'd like to get to know the neighbors."

What is your name?

The young man hesitated for a moment, then extended his right palm and shook hands with Lumian:

"Gabriel, and you?"

"Charles," Lumian glanced into room 206 and asked, feigning curiosity, "Why are you lighting Sulfur now? It's getting late, we need to go find something to eat."

Gabriel adjusted his glasses and gave a wry smile. "I'm a Playwright, and I'm planning to work through the night on my manuscript."

"A writer?" Lumian raised his hand and touched his chin.

He abandoned the idea of playing a little prank on the other person to ease the awkwardness between neighbors.

Gabriel emphasized. "Playwright, a writer who specializes in writing plays for various Theater."

"That sounds wonderful," Lumian exclaimed sincerely. "I greatly admire storytellers; my idol is a writer."

Seeing the sincerity in the other person's eyes, Gabriel felt a little embarrassed by the praise.

He scratched his already messy brown hair, sighed, and said, "This industry isn't as good as you think. I put a lot of effort into my last script, and I think it's not much worse than those classic Repertoire, but not a single Theater Manager has been willing to give it a second glance."

"I can only accept commissions from tabloids, writing vulgar and low-brow stories. Only in this way can I afford the rent and avoid starving. Haha, that's exactly the kind of article I need to finish right now. The editors only need to figure out how to get the Women characters into bed, not anything else like 'pictures.' That's what their newspaper readers love to read..."

Perhaps it touched on a deep-seated trauma, Gabriel felt compelled to share, and he rattled off a whole bunch of things.

Lumian listened attentively and said sincerely, "I've read many biographies and interviews with writers, and most of them have experienced being unappreciated and forced to live in cheap hotels or attics. I believe that one day you will find people willing to read your scripts and eventually become a famous Playwright."

Gabriel took off his glasses and rubbed his face:

"You're only the second person in all this time who's been willing to encourage me. Everyone else just laughs at me for being a dreamer and unwilling to face reality."

"If you and Aurora didn't have similar professions, I would have laughed at you like that too, and even more fiercely than they did..." Lumian thought to himself, then asked curiously, "Who was the first person to encourage you?"

"It's Miss Safali, who lives in Room 309." Gabriel looked up at the ceiling. "She's a Mannequin; I haven't seen her for several days. She might have moved."

The Mannequin the Roul couple mentioned? Lumian nodded and extended an invitation:

"Want to grab a drink at the Bar?"

Gabriel was very tempted, but ultimately managed to control himself.

"Maybe next time, my manuscript is due tomorrow."

"Okay." Lumian waved and went back to her room.

After gazing out the window at the bustling, Messy Street scene for a while, Lumian decided to find a Restaurant, have a good meal, and savor the local cuisine of Trier.

Just then, he heard a shrill female voice coming from upstairs:

You bastard! You stud!

"Your mother and the Demon gave birth to you..."

The cursing stopped abruptly, as if forcibly interrupted.

Lumian had a sudden inspiration and opened the window.

"If you like women so much, why don't you go find your mother?"

"..."

This time, Lumian clearly heard the sound coming from the fourth floor.

Miss Ethanisse Lumian, That One was forced into illegal prostitution, recalled Charlie's story.

This also means That One Margot, the leader of the Stinger Gang, came with his Subordinate collect the money.

--In the Republic of Intis, prostitutes are divided into two types: one is officially registered and works in places like the City Wall Street and Breda Street; the other is illegal, does not pay taxes, is subject to crackdowns, and their numbers are ten to twenty times that of the former.

After a moment's hesitation, Lumian put on a dark suit and went to the area between 202 and 203, where there was a staircase leading to the next floor.

He then pulled out the cheap perfume he had bought in Bigos and planned to pour some on the wooden steps so that Margot and his Subordinate would step on it when they passed by.

--The next attack by the Montsouris Ghosts could come at any time, Lumian hoped to find prey as soon as possible to complete the exchange of Destiny.

After a few seconds of thought, he abandoned the idea of directly pouring the perfume, intending to make it look like an accident in order to avoid detection by any possible Beyond Ability.

Lumian slightly unscrewed the cap, then pretended that his hand had slipped and he hadn't been able to hold onto the thick Glass Bottle.

With a clatter, the perfume bottle landed on the bottom step, spilling some liquid and releasing a strong, almost pungent fragrance.

Lumian knelt down with a "heartache," picked up the bottle, and put the cap back on.

He wiped the perfume that had leaked out with his palm and kept rubbing it on his body.

Soon, most of the liquid was dried up, and the evening breeze blowing in from the balcony carried away the rich aroma.

Lumian then retreated to Room 207, pressed himself against the door frame to Concealment himself, and gazed towards the stairwell.

After about ten minutes, footsteps could be heard coming down from the upper floors.

By this time, the perfume scent in the hallway had faded considerably.

Soon, four men appeared there, the leader being a tall, thin man.

His blond hair was shaved very short, each strand standing up. He had single eyelids, blue eyes, a high nose, thin lips, and a few faint scars on his face.

The man, who appeared to be Margot, was wearing a red shirt and a dark leather vest, with his hands inside his sail-colored trousers, and he walked down the stairs step by step.

He had a bulge on his left side, and his feet were in strapless leather boots.

Suddenly, the man frowned, and with a light leap, he jumped over the two steps and part of the second-floor stairwell that were stained with perfume.

The three men dressed as his Thug, unaware of anything amiss, stepped on the remaining perfume stains.

Lumian's heart skipped a beat when he caught sight of this scene:

"Margot is very sensitive to smells and strongly resists having any unusual odor on herself?"