"Queen Mystic"?! How could she be here?!
After a brief shock, Lorne quickly recovered.
"Madam, are you…?" he asked tentatively, his voice tinged with apprehension and unease.
The identity of "Scott" shouldn't know her.
"This is a police station! You can't—" Lorne struggled to control his facial muscles, trying his best to make his expression appear genuine and terrified.
But—
"Hmph—" Bernadette said nothing, only letting out an ambiguous hum from her nose, staring at him with a smile, her azure eyes seemingly able to see through everything.
She hadn't expected that Monqi Brando would possess such outstanding acting talent.
"
"Whoosh—"
A moment later, Lorne gave up. He slumped onto the cold, hard bunk bed in the detention room, sitting there quietly, not saying another word.
Since he had been seen through, there was no point in pretending anymore.
"Don't you have anything you want to ask me?" Bernadette couldn't hold back and broke the silence first.
"You've already come knocking, what more is there for me to say?" Lorne shrugged, adopting an indifferent attitude.
"However, I am genuinely curious how you knew I was here, and how you found me?"
According to her previous statement, he possessed a certain "peculiarity," and regular divination and prophecy shouldn't be able to locate him. Otherwise, given that she already had those "Rosell's Romantic Histories," she could have simply divined his location directly, without needing to go through Cattelya's channels to find him.
Hearing this, Bernadette subtly curved her lips, and mimicking Lorne, she gently shrugged.
Guess.
Lorne understood the meaning in her eyes. He rested his chin in his hand, lost in thought.
"Is it—that letter?"
He was referring to the reply letter Cattelya had given him. At that time, Bernadette herself had personally handed him that letter.
Bernadette nodded noncommittally.
"Boring." Lorne lay directly on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, adopting an air of having seen through the mundane world.
"I thought you'd be angry," Bernadette said softly, looking at him.
"No," Lorne shook his head, his voice a little muffled, "I wasn't careful enough. Actually, when you didn't proactively give me your contact information last time, but instead said you'd come find me when necessary, I was already thinking about this issue. It's just that there were too many other things at the time, and I didn't pay it much mind."
"Now that I think about it carefully, it all makes sense."
"As for being angry—I don't have the leisure to think about such things right now."
Lorne stretched out his hand, pointing to his surroundings, and said self-deprecatingly, "As you can see, I'm locked up right now."
.
"And I'm still debating whether to declare bankruptcy directly, or to figure out how to earn those 200,000 pounds."
"It sounds like your luck hasn't been just bad lately." Hearing Lorne's almost self-deprecating statement, Bernadette couldn't help but exclaim.
"Everything is fate, and it spares no one," Lorne said with a bitter smile, looking at the ceiling.
Bernadette was momentarily lost in thought. She shed her composed and elegant expression, pursed her lips, and murmured, "He—once said something similar."
"He? Rosell?"
Damn! He can even copy these words?! Can't you have some shame, Rosell!
He had finally come up with a sentence he thought was profound, and had even sighed dramatically, only for the person next to him to suddenly say, "Oh, those words were spoken by Emperor Rosell."
Do you know how embarrassing that is?!
After furiously complaining about Rosell in his mind for a while, Lorne couldn't help but become curious.
What exactly was the relationship between this "Queen Mystic" and Rosell? Not only did she possess so many pages of rosell's diary, but by her tone, it seemed she had personally met Rosell himself.
"Mm."
Could it be—she was Rosell's old flame? After Rosell's death, she refused to accept reality, which is why she searched the world for information about him?
Lorne's gaze involuntarily lingered on her exquisitely beautiful face, scrutinizing it carefully.
Given Rosell's notoriously philandering nature, it seemed—not impossible.
However, if that's the case, then "Queen Mystic" must be quite old already.
"You seem to be—thinking something very rude." Bernadette noticed Lorne's somewhat strange gaze.
"—" Lorne pouted and quickly changed the subject, "Madam, I must say, you're quite bold. This is a police station, and there might even be Punishers ambushing nearby."
"You just don't care about them?"
You're a famous pirate, this is too bold—Lorne didn't say that out loud.
"No need to worry." Bernadette's tone carried a self-assured calmness, "If it came to a fight, even if an angel descended, they wouldn't be able to keep me."
An angel—that's at least Sequence 2. Is the foundation of a "Pirate King" really that strong?
However, I'm not worried about you! I'm worried about how I'm supposed to explain it to them if you get discovered?
If she were truly discovered by the Punishers, he might really be locked up in a dark room for the rest of his life.
Sigh—
Taking a deep breath, Lorne asked in a low voice, "Then, Madam, what are you here for? If you intend to take me away, I must refuse."
"Although I'm locked up, I'm currently just a suspect. If you take me away, then I really won't be able to explain myself."
"I'm not here to take you away." Bernadette gently shook her head, the tip of her black leather boot lightly tapping the ground, J
Do you remember our agreement?
Do you remember our deal?
"rosell's diary?"
"Mm." Bernadette nodded slightly, "I brought a few pages and want to know the contents of the diary."
"This is the reward for this time."
As she spoke, the small crystal bottle containing golden liquid in her hand gently floated up, coming to rest before Lorne's eyes.
"Sequence 5 potion?" Lorne immediately sat up straight and asked curiously.
"Mm, the Sequence 5, Winner potion." Bernadette nodded.
"Winner—" Lorne chewed on the name of the potion, repeating it softly.
"Giving it to me now is useless."
"The advancement to Sequence 5 requires a ritual. And my current state is—"
"You've been very unlucky lately, and this state has lasted for quite some time, right?" Bernadette suddenly asked.
"Yes, for about a month now." Lorne admitted frankly.
"Then look at this." Bernadette subtly moved her finger, and a piece of paper covered in Hermes script gently floated before Lorne's eyes.
Lorne leaned in curiously, his pupils slightly contracting.
"This is—the Winner potion formula?"
"That's right, it's a bonus."
"Bonus—" Lorne savored Bernadette's words, but still couldn't resist, carefully examining the contents of the formula.
Sequence 5: Winner Main Ingredients: One piece of Divine Crystal, one Red Flame Treant's heart;
Auxiliary Materials: 80 ml of Red Flame Treant sap, 20 grams of Divine Crystal attachments, 10 grams of white mustard seeds, 9 drops of sweet chestnut flower essential oil, one portion of luck from others;
Advancement Ritual: For a continuous month, remain in an unlucky state, with absolutely no instance of good luck.
"Unlucky—" Looking at the ritual's content, Lorne was somewhat incredulous.
A month of bad luck—could it be that everything that has happened to me recently was—
He subconsciously clenched his fist, feeling his throat go dry. If that were truly the case, then this month-long torment would have coincidentally—completed the most difficult part of advancing to Sequence 5?
"Even if the ritual has coincidentally been completed, what about the auxiliary materials? 'Luck from others,' I don't have that kind of thing right now."
"No, you do." Bernadette interrupted him, her tone certain.
"Although we are not on the same Pathway, I can tell that you possess such a thing. Moreover, this 'luck' is of a very high rank."
The blasphemy card was made by Rosell using the ability of the Knowledge Emperor. It inherently possesses the high rank of the corresponding Pathway, allowing the holder to acquire certain characteristics of that Pathway to some extent. Having held the "Fate" card for so long, Bernadette naturally also gained a certain ability to survey the fate of others.
Could it be—Will Auceptin?
Bernadette's words made Lorne suddenly recall that strange limping little boy. Could it be that he was a high-Sequence Beyonder of the "Fate" Pathway? Why would he help me then? Or is it—another peculiarity brought by my identity as a transmigrator?
"I—roughly understand what's going on." Lorne composed the surprised expression on his face; he didn't want to appear too timid in front of the "Queen Mystic."
"What is your suggestion?"
"You can try to advance here."
"No, that's too dangerous." Lorne shook his head, rejecting the idea without hesitation.
He was currently detained by the official, and advancing on someone else's territory was simply too risky.
"My magic is nearby."
She extended a finger and gently tapped. In the space originally enveloped by emerald vines, three adorable, juvenile pig-headed creatures, like half-orcs, suddenly appeared. As they moved, peculiar patterns emerged on the surrounding walls.
"A barrier, huh—what a peculiar ability." Lorne sighed with emotion, but he still didn't intend to change his mind.
"Perhaps your advancement will change your current predicament, who knows," Bernadette said thoughtfully.
"What do you mean?"
Sequence 5 of the "Monster" Pathway is "Winner." This name itself can represent something.
Perhaps, after advancing, you might be able to resolve the problems you currently face in a peculiar way," Bernadette analyzed.
"Moreover, after advancing, your ability to withstand risks will also increase."
"Even if those official people discover you're a Beyonder, they might not do anything to you. Facing a wild Beyonder of Sequence 5, they might not take extreme measures; the possibility of recruiting you is actually greater."
"—" Lorne lowered his head in silence. He knew Bernadette might be trying to observe him using this opportunity. But what she said was indeed correct—
"Can't you just help me directly solve these troubles I'm in?"
"Taking you away directly is simple. But aren't you unwilling?"
"Moreover," Bernadette said, resting her finger on her smooth chin, "my current resources cannot effectively help you directly solve this trouble."
"I've heard about your situation. In this matter, you yourself might not be important; the key is that you unintentionally triggered a game of chess between the Church and the official."
"I can't directly interfere with such matters."
"I—" Lorne opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but ultimately swallowed his words back.
Her analysis was not without reason. Moreover, even if she could genuinely help, he couldn't offer sufficient compensation. Transactions require equivalence, or at least apparent equivalence.
After hesitating for a few seconds, Lorne shifted his gaze to the floating glass bottle, shimmering with an enticing golden luster, and reached out to take it.
"Gulp."