Chapter 126 Convener (asking for double monthly tickets) Lumian originally planned to go to Mason Cafe before noon to familiarize himself with the environment there, so that if something unexpected happened during the treatment tomorrow, he would not know where to escape. However, the matter of Baron Brinell delayed him a lot of time, so he could only go to find Osta Trull first and then go to the botanical garden in the afternoon. Aosta was still in the old place, next to the edge of the crypt, with his back against a stone pillar, and lit a bonfire. Hearing the footsteps approaching at a moderate pace, he raised his head in a hooded black robe and looked at the visitor. He thought he would earn some money, but his expression froze instantly. He stood up quickly, forced a smile, and spoke before Lumian could ask: "I contacted the convener this morning and told him that I have a friend who is a fan of the occult and wants to attend the party, but he hasn't replied to me yet." Lumian nodded, without asking how Osta contacted him. He walked to the campfire, found a stone to sit on, and spoke casually: "You must have deceived many people, and you always appear in the same place. Aren't you afraid that they will find you?" Osta laughed and said: "Most of the time it's not really cheating. As a 'secret prayer', a truly extraordinary person, I use my own spirituality to do divination for them, which can't be called cheating at all. "My divination results are much more accurate than most people in the Occult Club! "At other times, it must be different people using different methods. If they are really exposed, they can still use words to make up for it." “How do you make up for it?” Lumian smiled.

Aosta coughed: "The key is not to make your words too clear and absolute at the beginning, so that you can accuse the other party of misunderstanding later." Lumian smiled thoughtfully. "You agreed too easily and made too clear a promise about the Samaritan woman's spring." Aosta's expression suddenly collapsed: “Yes, I was pressed too hard by Baron Brinell, and I wanted to get the money on the spot. "The correct approach should be to tell you that I have a way, but it is very difficult to achieve. After you beg me many times, I will reluctantly accept your money and say that I can't guarantee success..." It was obvious that Osta had reviewed the mistakes he had made last night and seriously considered what he should do to avoid subsequent risks if he had to start all over again. He became more and more excited as he spoke, until he saw Lumian's half-smile, and then he stopped abruptly. How could I tell this dangerous guy how to successfully defraud him in front of him? Osta subconsciously put on an embarrassed smile and forced an explanation: "But I believe this won't fool you either. You are the most cautious person I have ever met." Lumian smiled and shook his head: "You really chose the wrong path." Osta didn't dare to take up the topic, so he asked: "I thought about it seriously last night. I didn't seem to mention a party when I was communicating with you. I just said that I bought the main ingredients for the potion. How can you be sure that it was an occult party?" Lumian laughed softly: "That's what my instinct tells me." At the same time, he couldn't help but complain in his heart: Aren’t there only two possibilities? Either a one-on-one transaction or a party. The chance of guessing correctly is at least 50%. I just said it casually at the time. There’s no loss if I’m wrong! Osta looked at Lumian with more and more fear. He was increasingly unable to guess which sequence this dangerous fellow was from. It seemed that he was not only a capable fighter, but also had strong spiritual abilities and an intuition that was almost like a premonition. Lumian felt the warmth brought by the bonfire and chatted: "And how did you join that occult gathering?" Aosta showed a reminiscent expression: “Everyone came to Trier with hope. Those painters dreamed of having their works selected by the exhibition of works by living artists, but most of them were unsuccessful. Every year, some people could not bear the blow and went crazy or committed suicide. "Each of the impoverished writers living in cheap apartments wanted to repeat the fame myths of bestsellers like Aurore and Menier, but in the end they could only sell their works to those small newspapers and endure bad reviews such as "vulgar", "poor" and "repetitive plots". Many of them even fell into writing pornographic novels for underground booksellers and could be taken away by detectives at any time.

"More than a decade ago, I came to Trier from Western Dilisi with the desire to get rich. I slept in an attic that leaked when it rained, climbed scaffolds, worked in factories, smuggled underground books, and worked as a soda vendor. Although I was lucky and saved some money, I knew more and more every year that I would never be rich, I would never own my own house, I would never be able to leisurely read the newspaper while having breakfast at home, and go out to work when it was almost time. "Later, I came across magazines on the occult such as Psychic and Mystery. Haha, maybe I still had fantasies that I could gain powerful supernatural powers overnight and completely change my destiny. I began to frequently attend gatherings among like-minded people. Well, those magazines would publish relevant information. "At the beginning of this year, a friend I met in a club suddenly approached me and asked if I wanted to attend a gathering involving truly extraordinary powers. I couldn't refuse, and you know what happened next." Lumian listened very quietly without interrupting Aosta's story. After the other party stopped, he asked: "Is your friend the one who convened the party?" "No." Osta shook his head. "The convener calls himself 'Mr. K' and he always wears a big hood that almost covers his entire face." "Mr. K..." Lumian remembered the code name and thought for a moment, "What abilities has he demonstrated?" Osta shook his head again: “I haven’t seen it. "However, after I became a 'Secret Prayer', when I met him again, I felt like I was facing a shadow and the darkness deep underground. I thought he must be very strong." It sounds very powerful. I wonder who is more powerful than the parish priest or Mrs. Puaris... Lumian muttered to himself silently and asked curiously: "Do you have any special feelings when facing me?" Aosta said "uh" and decided to tell the truth: "No, but you have a dangerous aura that scares me more than Baron Brinell ever did." Lumian looked down at his left chest and said with a smile: "pretty good." Osta was a little stunned, not understanding what the other party wanted to express. Lumian did not continue the topic and asked: “Have you ever heard of the Montsouris ghost?” "Yes." As a fake wizard who makes a living by defrauding people, Osta has mastered many stories about underground Trier. "Legend has it that in this dark and vast space underground, there is an evil spirit that keeps wandering. It always walks alone and seems to never reach its destination. Anyone who encounters this ghost will either lose his life on the spot or die mysteriously along with his immediate family members that year. "So far, everyone who claimed to have encountered the ghost of Monsouri went crazy and died within a year. I heard that the two major churches organized strong men to search for the evil spirit underground, but they were unsuccessful." It feels a bit real... Lumian didn't ask any more questions, stood up, and said to Osta: "I'll come back to see you tomorrow night or the morning after tomorrow." "Okay." Although Osta didn't think that the other party would do anything bad to him now, he couldn't help but feel relieved that he could send this dangerous guy away. It is impossible for normal humans to get used to being with tigers! On the way back to the surface, Lumian passed by the entrance of the catacombs with a carbide lamp and saw the archway carved with various bones, sunflowers and steam symbols again. After reading the words "Stop! The Death Empire is ahead!", Lumian tentatively walked towards the natural gate separating the inside and the outside. At this moment, a figure came out from behind the huge stone archway and shouted in a deep voice: "stop!" The figure was wearing a blue vest and yellow trousers. He was an old man with gray hair and many wrinkles. His pale yellow eyes were already slightly cloudy, and his gaze was fixed firmly on Lumian.

“Can’t I go in?” Lumian showed the ignorance and simplicity of a foreigner. The old man looked him over and said: "You have to buy a ticket up there first, and then bring a white candle with you." "I have a friend buried there. Do I need to buy a ticket to pay tribute to him?" Lumian made up a friend on the spot. The old man said suspiciously: “Are you a college student from Memorial Parish? “Those bastards always make up all kinds of lies to get into the tomb, sing, dance, and have a party in the ossuary! "Go in, and remember to bring a lighted white candle like those guys. That's all I ask!" Lumian used to worry that if he could get into college, his style of doing things would be too different from that of his classmates. Now it seems that this worry was completely unnecessary. Those students are even crazier than him! “Okay.” Lumian showed a disappointed expression, “I’ll bring white candles next time.” The old man nodded with satisfaction. Lumian turned around and walked along the repaired path towards the stairs leading to the ground. More than a hundred meters later, he suddenly caught a glimpse of a dark shadow out of the corner of his eye. The dark shadow hunched its back slightly and walked slowly behind the row of stone pillars on the left. When Lumian took a look at it, he felt that it was not real and was almost unreal. Subconsciously, Lumian raised the calcium carbide lamp and cast a blue-yellow light over. The dark shadow disappeared, as if it had never appeared. Lumian looked around quickly, but saw nothing. "Is it a hallucination, or a ghost from underground?" Lumian had just made a guess when he suddenly became suspicious. "Could it be the ghost of Montsouris? Did I encounter the ghost of Montsouris?" His pupils dilated and his expression became extremely solemn. After a few seconds, Lumian started laughing, almost unable to straighten his back, almost crying: “Haha, come on, just come on! I want to see how you can make all my immediate family members die, and how you can make me die mysteriously too!” PS: Ask for double monthly tickets~ (End of this chapter)