入室强性暴

The place is abnormal, a mystery even to official Beyonders. Why are you asking me to spend the night there?

The image of the dark, charred building he had seen through the Mystery Prying Glasses still lingered in his mind, with a blurry face staring back at him through the empty eyes behind a window.

It had given him an uneasy feeling, as Osta Trul had warned it was a dangerous place. However, Lumian had no interest in exploring it and wouldn’t have triggered any anomalies due to him lacking an adventurous spirit, so he put it aside.

Amidst his thoughts, Lumian dismissed the idea that Gardner Martin would set a trap in the charred building to harm him.

As a member of the Iron and Blood Cross Order—a secret organization—a powerful Beyonder likely at Sequence 5 or at minimum a 6, Gardner had other, more direct methods to deal with subordinates with ulterior motives.

Simultaneously, Lumian recalled everything he had seen and heard recently.

The charred building stood close to Rue des Blouses Blanches. Each time he passed it while going to his safe house from Salle de Bal Brise or searching for Franca, he would see vagrants seeking refuge from the rain inside. Never had he witnessed any official Beyonders or patrolling police shooing them away, nor had he heard of any fatalities occurring there.

For three reasons, Lumian considered the charred building highly perilous. Firstly, Osta Trul’s spiritual perception had urged him. Secondly, its existence remained intact, as if some mysterious force prevented its demolition. Thirdly, his experience with the Mystery Prying Glasses had left him with a certain feeling.

Combining all these signs, Lumian couldn’t help but think there was indeed a problem. And it wasn’t some trivial matter either. Though under normal circumstances, these abnormalities were unlikely to be triggered; they required specific conditions.

But if there wasn’t any trouble, why would Gardner Martin arrange for me to spend the night there? Is it some kind of courage test? That’s pointless, Lumian thought to himself.

He believed that the most striking impression he left on Gardner Martin and the others was that of his boldness.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Lumian stared at Gardner Martin, showing his concern and suspicion.

“13 Avenue du Marché? I’ve heard there’s something strange going on there.”

“If nothing were amiss, what kind of test would it be to send you there for a night?” Gardner Martin replied with a smile. “As long as your response is flawless, I believe you’ll come out of it unscathed.”

So, this is a test to see how I handle a ‘sudden’ abnormality without any prior information? Lumian nodded in understanding, but the situation left him even more puzzled.

If that’s the case, why did Gardner Martin come here in the middle of the night and ask me to go to 13 Avenue du Marché immediately? Couldn’t he have waited until daytime for me to do this? Then, he could test my ability to gather information and see who I’ll contact…

Now, I won’t have the chance to summon Madam Magician’s messenger and seek her opinion or possible help, allowing me not to face the hidden danger of the charred building alone…

But Gardner Martin doesn’t know that I can summon a demigod’s messenger. That’s probably not what he’s worried about… If he suspects that I have another faction backing me, he wouldn’t have given me a chance to infiltrate the core— in other words—the Iron and Blood Cross Order. He would have already found a way to make me completely ‘disappear’…

Yes, if he really suspects me, he’ll give me ample time to see where I go and who I contact to determine if there’s a problem…

He must have some hidden motive for making things so urgent…

Giving me time to prepare means I might go back on my word. Instead of heading to 13 Avenue du Marché, I might turn around and sell information about this charred building’s possible connection to the Iron and Blood Cross Order to the authorities?

But the problem is, even if I manage to stay until the sun rises, I can still go back on my word or betray them… I’ll be apprehended right then and there and forced to sign a contract?

After careful consideration, Lumian still couldn’t decipher Gardner Martin’s true intentions.

The test was likely just one aspect, but there had to be a hidden motive!

The only thing Lumian was sure of was that Gardner Martin wasn’t planning to kill him—at least not for the time being. This mission might be life-threatening, but the real danger lay elsewhere.

With various thoughts racing through his mind, Lumian finally made up his decision.

“Alright, I’ll go now.”

Gardner Martin grinned.

“Excellent. If you’d agreed too quickly, it would have disappointed me.

“One of the most crucial traits for those who join our core is intelligence and the ability to think. Otherwise, why wouldn’t I just purchase a few new steam robots from the God of Steam and Machinery Church?”

Are you suggesting that Franca is smart, but not very much so? She thinks, but not holistically? Lumian couldn’t help but criticize inwardly.

Of course, he knew that this wasn’t the reason why the Boss refused to let Franca join the core team.

After his inner critique, Lumian responded to Gardner Martin with a smile, “I’m looking forward to experiencing the core you’ve described, Boss.”

As he spoke, he turned around and prepared to head downstairs to 13 Avenue du Marché.

Gardner Martin casually called out to him, “Don’t reveal this to anyone, not even to those sleeping with you, like Jenna, who’s singing downstairs.”

“Alright,” Lumian said, though he didn’t give it much thought.

He had to share this with Franca and Jenna!

However, the two of them had been busy investigating the disappearance of the Deep Valley Cloister’s gatekeeper and hadn’t paid much attention to the affairs of the Savoie Mob.

After leaving Salle de Bal Brise, Lumian touched his left chest.

Then, he drew a triangular Sacred Emblem, as if praying to the God of Steam and Machinery for good luck.

There was still water on the ground from the rain. Lumian followed the iron-black street lamps and reached the intersection near Rue des Blouses Blanches at a moderate pace.

A pitch-black six-story building stood diagonally in front of him. Many of the walls had collapsed, as if pairs of empty, pitch-black “eyes” had grown out of the house.

At that moment, two or three tramps were sleeping on the ground floor, devoid of doors or window frames. It was strewn with blackened bricks and charred wood.

Lumian stood by the roadside and observed for a while, but he couldn’t find the blurry face pressed against the window.

Must I wear the Mystery Prying Glasses to “see” it? Without hesitation, Lumian passed through the filthy doorway and entered the target building.

He felt no abnormalities from his body to his soul.

Walking around the tramps, Lumian found what appeared to be the activity room.

There was a small room inside. The wooden door was charred and wobbly, but it remained intact. Beyond the shattered glass window lay an alley behind Avenue du Marché.

Lumian walked in and carefully closed the wooden door.

Then, he sat by the window, ready to climb out of the abnormal building at a moment’s notice.

Amidst the inevitable torment, time ticked by, and the night deepened. Lumian remained oblivious to any abnormalities. It was so quiet that only the tramps’ occasional coughs echoed.

Suddenly, he straightened his back.

He heard sluggish footsteps.

The footsteps drew nearer, knocking on the dilapidated wooden door that couldn’t be locked, instantly tainting the quiet night with an uneasy atmosphere.

At that moment, Termiboros’s magnificent voice echoed in Lumian’s mind.

“Don’t respond.”

Don’t respond… Lumian’s hair stood on end.

Although he couldn’t fully trust the Inevitability angel, considering the current situation, he chose to look at the door silently after weighing the pros and cons.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The knocks on the door echoed one after another, the intervals long, slow, and heavy.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

After a while, the person outside finally spoke.

“Help me. I was the one sleeping outside.

“Help me, help me. A murderer has barged in!”

This fabrication is absurd… Lumian calmed his tense nerves by entertaining himself.

He didn’t respond, acting as though there was no one in the small room.

The voice outside grew more intense, but the pace slowed. There was an indistinct, strange pause.

“He’s. Here! He’s. Here! I’m. About. To. Be. Killed!

“The next one. Is. You!”

As soon as he finished speaking, the person knocking on the door suddenly let out a scream.

Lumian heard a dull thud.

Thud! It was as if someone had fallen to the ground.

Then, a heavy object outside the door was slowly dragged further away.

Before long, a bone-chilling cutting sound filled the room, accompanied by the sound of gnawing and loud chewing.

An image suddenly surfaced in Lumian’s mind: A shadowy figure squatted on the ground, dividing a human corpse with an axe and other items. Occasionally, it would pick up an arm and take a few bites.

After a while, the similar commotion vanished.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

There was another knock on Lumian’s small room.

“If you don’t. Open the door. I’ll. Come in. Myself.” It was the same person who had asked for help.

Lumian gazed at the shaky wooden door and had an idea.

As long as I don’t respond, the abnormality outside won’t be able to open this door and truly threaten me?

This door is clearly unlocked and was burned by the fire. It’s very fragile, but it can’t open it…

It doesn’t have the ability to open any door. Does it require a response from the person behind the door to establish a connection in the mystical sense?

As these thoughts raced through his mind, Lumian gained a deeper understanding of the current situation and felt more confident.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Amidst the knocking, the person outside spoke in a staccato manner, “I am not. Lying.

“I really will. Open the door. And come in.

“I’ll give you. Another. Ten seconds.”

Lumian scoffed, feeling increasingly certain.

He wanted to mock the other party in his heart and tell it to open if it had what it took, but he was worried that it would also be considered a response, so he suppressed those thoughts.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Three more knocks separated by a long pause.

Suddenly, Lumian heard an inaudible creak.

Then, he saw the rickety wooden door slowly pull back, revealing a dark crack.

It was opening.