Vincent continued speaking with the man. "Could you tell us where they live?"
Before the man could respond, Lumian cut in. "Sorry for the interruption… but this man in the picture—who is he to you?"
The man glanced at the portrait and replied, "He's my brother. Or do you have something to do with him?"
Lumian gave a quick, awkward smile. "No, nothing like that. Just… where did he go?"
"He went out to get something," the man said simply.
"Alright," Lumian replied.
Vincent then asked, "And where does James stay?"
The man rubbed his beard, pausing for a moment before answering. "Why do you need that information?"
Vincent smiled lightly and gestured toward Jenna. "We just want to confirm his whereabouts."
The man let out a small chuckle. "Maybe you should teach him a lesson, heh." Then he added, "He's on Mitchell Street, number 20."
...
Vincent nodded, then—still smiling—lightly took the woman's hand.
"Lumian will head over and check your husband's situation himself," he said smoothly. "Please, try not to worry too much."
Seeing that, Lumian's mouth twitched. Me? I thought it was we? he thought. And she's not even pulling her hand away… doesn't that count as cheating too?
He glanced once more at the portrait, then turned back to the man.
"Mitchell Street, right?"
The man nodded.
"Alright," Lumian said.
He shifted his gaze to Vincent. "Keep an eye on things here for me."
Without waiting for a response, he turned and stepped out, soon hailing a taxi toward Mitchell Street.
The reason he left Vincent behind was simple—if Mrs. Theresa's husband returned, Vincent would notice.
And with any luck… he'd also be sharp enough to pick up on the "clues" Lumian had intentionally left behind.
...
Mitchell Street.
After a few minutes, Lumian arrived. His gaze swept across the street, taking in the row of houses—each one spacious, polished, and clearly expensive.
So this is where he lives… he thought. Either James married into wealth… or he's richer than he looks.
Lumian walked forward at a steady pace, scanning the house numbers as he went.
The area felt different—quiet, refined. Even the King's Mansion wasn't far from here. And there also seemed to be a garden which was forward, by the right.
Yeah… this isn't just any neighborhood. People with influence live here.
He slowed to a stop in front of one of the houses.
It read number 20. The same number the man's father had mentioned.
...
He stepped forward, his gaze settling on the number.
This is it… number 20.
A faint unease crept into him. Knocking on a stranger's door was one thing—but this place, this street… it felt different... It was screaming rich!
He took a slow breath.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then he raised his hand, curling it into a fist before knocking.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
There was no answer, only silence. Lumian waited for a whole minute, then another, but still nothing.
His lips twitched slightly. Did they leave already? But the father said he came back with his wife…
Maybe I should just—
Almost absentmindedly, he reached for the door handle and gave it a light push.
Click!
Just as quickly, the door swung open. It was not locked.
...
Lumian paused, slightly confused.
…Is this how rich people live? he wondered.
Since the door was already open, he hesitated only briefly before deciding to check on James.
He glanced around the street once more, making sure no one was watching—he didn't want to look like he was breaking in.
Then, slowly, he stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him.
The interior didn't match the polished exterior at all.
Tables were overturned. Cushions were ripped open, their stuffing scattered across the floor. Broken glass crunched faintly underfoot.
Lumian exhaled quietly.
What the hell happened here…?
He moved forward carefully, but suddenly stepped on something.
Looking down, he saw a portrait.
It showed James—clean-shaven, black-haired—holding a red-haired woman close, her arms wrapped around him.
Lumian lifted his foot and continued walking, his eyes scanning the wrecked room.
They must've had a serious fight…
As he moved further in, his gaze shifted toward the staircase.
And then he froze. A man lay slumped on the steps, blood trailing down from deep cuts along his neck, staining the stairs beneath him.
It was the same man from the portrait, it was James!
...
James…? What could've led to something like this?
A strange thought flickered through his mind.
And… isn't it usually the woman who ends up dead in situations like this…?
He suppressed the urge to comment further or let out a dry chuckle. This wasn't the time.
Instead, he quickly pulled out his amethyst pendant and focused.
Whoosh!
A sudden gust of wind swept through the broken windows, stirring the air. Faint blue particles drifted around him like glowing embers.
His eyelids lowered, as if pressed shut by an unseen force.
Almost immediately, a scene formed in his mind.
James and the red-haired woman stood facing each other, their voices raised in a heated argument.
Their movements were sharp, tense—words clearly cutting deep.
After about a minute, the tension seemed to ease.
James stepped forward and pulled her into an intimate embrace.
For a brief moment, it looked like things had settled.
But then, she leaned in and whispered something into his ear.
James froze. His expression twisted instantly into horror.
He staggered back, pointing at her, shouting—though the words couldn't be heard.
Then he turned and rushed toward the stairs.
The woman's gaze followed him, cold and unreadable.
Without hesitation, she grabbed a glass and hurled it.
Immediately, it struck his head. James lost his footing, and slipped.
The stairs below struck his neck, and blood followed.
At the top of the stairs, the woman covered her mouth, frozen in shock.
And just like that, the vision shattered.
...
Lumian opened his eyes and glanced at the corpse, a wry smile forming on his face.
What an absurd way to die…
But who was that woman really? And what did she say to make him react like that?
He thought for a moment, but quickly decided to return to the family and report what he had seen earlier—better to avoid being treated as a suspect.
He tucked his pendant back into his pocket, straightened his black coat, and moved toward the door.
Just as he reached it, a whisper brushed past his ears.
"Hakli… Hakli… Hakli…"
Lumian's hairs stood on end. He slowly turned his head.
Behind him, the corpse was twitching violently.
"Hakli… Hakli… Hakli…"
The body jerked once more, then almost instantly, James sat upright.
His once shut eyes quickly snapped open.
Oh shit! Lumian inwardly cursed.
...
There was nothing Lumian could think of. Running would only endanger innocent civilians.
As he hesitated internally, James' body twisted in an unnatural motion and slowly rose to its feet.
It began walking toward him—slow at first. Then suddenly, it broke into a run.
Damn it!
The whispers must have turned him into a semi-cursed being. At this rate, it would only be a matter of time before it regained more human traits.
The creature closed in rapidly.
Lumian leapt back, retreating at least ten steps in an instant. He quickly drew his pistol—but before he could fire, the figure blurred.
It appeared right in front of him, wearing a wide, unsettling smile.
"Amanda… Amanda… Amanda…"
Lumian didn't respond. Without hesitation, he reached into his coat and threw a seeking charm, splattering it across the man's face.
He immediately ducked and shifted a short distance away.
The creature staggered, its pale white eyes turning blood-red as it coughed violently, slightly hunched.
Lumian adjusted his aim and fired.
Bang!
The bullet missed—striking only the space where its head had been a moment earlier.
Lumian turned sharply, the cursed James was already moving again, now with a disturbingly human-like grin.
"You shouldn't enter people's homes uninvited," it said with a light, mocking chuckle. "You might end up somewhere you don't want to be."
Lumian's chest tightened. He shifted sideways in a blur and fired again.
Bang!
The creature dodged effortlessly, closing the distance at a speed comparable to Lumian's own.
It lunged.
Lumian evaded left, causing it to crash into the wall behind him.
He retreated to the couch area and fired once more.
Bang!
This time, the bullet grazed past the creature and struck the door behind.
"Fuck—shit!" Lumian cursed inwardly.
His mind raced. Nothing he had seemed effective against something that matched his speed and reflexes.
With no other option forming in his mind… He made an absurd decision.
He would pray to Skywalker.
...
He drew his gun forward as James lunged again, the attack narrowly missing his face.
Lumian twisted left and dodged while chanting rapidly.
"O Skywalker, whose wings touch the cosmos… O Lord of creation and annihilation…"
Right on the heels of his words, James struck again, this time clenching his fist.
Lumian ducked under the blow, rose quickly, and delivered a sharp kick that forced the creature to stumble backward.
"The ruler of the sky and everything beyond… the emperor of light and darkness…"
James' expression twisted with anger. He suddenly retreated, putting several meters between them.
Lumian raised his gun, eyes narrowing as he took aim and fired.
Bang!
James shifted and dodged. But in that instant, Lumian's prayer reached its end.
"The master of annihilation… please save your faithful servant!"
His finger tightened on the trigger.
Bang!
The bullet should have missed, but as if pushed by an unseen force, it veered slightly and struck James in the forehead.
James froze. He looked at Lumian, then around in confusion, as if trying to understand what had just happened.
Slowly, his body gave out and collapsed heavily onto the ground.
...
Lumian stood there, breathing heavily.
His chest rose and fell as he stared at the fallen body. After a moment, he slowly lowered his gun and slipped it back into his coat.
"Bless Skywalker…" he muttered under his breath.
He moved his gaze to James who was in the floor.
A semi-cursed…
Human traits—present. Partial awareness—present. Even speech…
This type of situation is similar to Lady Patricia.
The man must've harbored a strong desire… maybe even the intent to kill that woman. That's what pushed him into becoming this… thing.
He rubbed his temple slightly.
I need to investigate this more…
As he stepped back, he suddenly paused, remembering Lacey situation also.
Skywalker, how did I miss that. When Lacey had that intelligence taken away from him, he mentioned Hakli. But that should just be a slight after-corruption, since he didn't resurrect and become a semi-cursed, or cursed.
But he mentioned something else, something about 'the dream will be real.'
And he did read the Book of Revelation. That should be a prophecy!
...
Dream… Moon… Lumian's thoughts stirred.
Could it be connected to the Pale Moon Goddess?
And… could this be related to the Hell Day incident that the bishop mentioned.
I should visit the library… do some proper research on this.
But first—
"I'll have to report this to the family," he muttered.
He glanced at the body one last time before turning away.
Outside, he kept a bit of distance from the house, walking down the street before hailing a taxi.
...
Back on Hatcliff Street, he paid the fare—two pounds—and returned to James' family to relay the situation.
As expected, there was no sign of Mrs. Theresa's husband.
Lumian kept that part to himself.
If word got out that he was being searched for, the man might grow cautious… or disappear again. It was better to observe quietly for now.
Jenna stood there, visibly shaken. Though sadness lingered in her eyes, she said nothing. After a while, she simply turned and left.
Not long after, the police arrived—called by the family.
They sealed off the house, placing tape around the area as they began their investigation and carried the body away.
With their task technically complete—finding the husband, even if only his corpse—Lumian and Vincent made their way back to the faculty.
...
Lamenti, Moonlight Watchers Faculty.
The crimson sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving faint streaks of red across the sky as Lumian and Vincent arrived.
Without waiting, Lumian stepped forward, turned right, and headed straight into the library.
The place was just as he remembered. Dimly lit, quiet… with the windows slightly open, allowing the last traces of crimson light to seep in.
He walked further in and soon approached the red-haired librarian.
"Good evening, Madison," Lumian said politely. "I wanted to check if there are any books related to the Pale Moon Goddess."
Madison, who had been reading with her glasses on, slowly lowered her book. She thought for a moment, then reached for her notes.
After a brief glance, she looked up at him with a faint chuckle.
"Lumian… you're never specific. What kind of material are you looking for?"
Lumian scratched his cheek awkwardly. "Something that mentions… Hell Day."
Madison's expression shifted slightly as she checked again.
She flipped through several pages, her brows narrowing just a bit.
A few moments passed. Then she closed the notebook.
"Lumian," she said, shaking her head, "there's nothing like that in our collection."
Lumian exhaled softly, disappointment settling in.
"…Skywalker," he muttered under his breath.
...
Noticing his expression, Madison let out a soft sigh. She paused for a moment before speaking.
"Lately, I've noticed you've been studying more and more," she said. "I was actually surprised when you came in last week and stayed reading for so long."
She tilted her head slightly. "If you don't mind me asking… what exactly are you studying?"
Lumian hesitated for a split second, quickly searching for a reasonable excuse. Then, like a seasoned reader, he replied,
"It's nothing much, Lady Madison. Ever since I became a sorcerer, I've found myself drawn to a lot of things. There's just… so much history connected to mysticism."
Madison watched him quietly, then sighed again.
Reaching into her drawer, she pulled out a slip of paper and began writing on it.
"I understand that," she said softly. "To be honest… I like that side of you. It reminds me of myself."
She signed her name and continued,
"Even though I'm only an unofficial member here, I've always been interested in history—and the mysteries surrounding it. I actually wanted to become an archaeologist once."
Lumian looked at her, slightly surprised. "Then… why didn't you?"
Madison smiled faintly, a small chuckle escaping her lips.
"My mum got sick back then," she said. "And my dad wasn't well off. So I had to take this job… for the money."
Lumian's expression softened. "How is she now?"
"Much better," Madison replied, her smile widening a little. "My dad's doing fine too."
She paused briefly, then added with a light laugh,
"Still… last week really surprised me. I kept thinking, 'Is that really Lumian?' I almost came to join you—but I decided not to."
With that, she handed him the paper. "This is my pass to the Pluty Library in Metropyl," she said. "You might find what you're looking for there."
...
Lumian smiled as he accepted the paper. "Thank you, Lady Madison," he said warmly.
"It's no problem," she replied with a soft chuckle.
Lumian nodded and turned to leave, but just as he reached the door, he paused.
He glanced back at her. "Madison… if you had the chance to become an archaeologist now, would you take it?"
She didn't hesitate. "Of course," she said. "If the opportunity presents itself, I will. Even though I've made good friends here… I'd still choose my dream."
Lumian held her gaze for a moment, then smiled.
"That's a very good answer," he said. "And… thank you again. I really appreciate this."
He stepped to the door, pushing it open. Before leaving, he looked back one last time and gave a small wave.
"Goodbye, Madison. I might stop by next week, since tomorrow is sunday."
Madison, dressed in her white shirt and black trousers, gave a small nod and returned to her book.
The door closed softly behind him.
...
Outside, Lumian didn't waste any time. He raised his hand and hailed a taxi, quickly making his way toward Metropyl.
Metropyl — Pluty Library
Unfamiliar with the area, Lumian had to rely on the driver for directions. After a short ride, he stepped out, paid five pounds, and made his way inside.
Using the pass, he gained entry and headed straight toward the front desk, where two librarians—a man and a woman—were stationed.
The moment they saw him approach, their expressions tightened and they let out a strong sigh.
They were only a few minutes away from closing.
Lumian noticed… but kept walking anyway. "Excuse me," he said politely. "I'm looking for a text related to the Pale Moon Goddess—something that mentions the ' "Hell Day.' "
The woman forced a professional smile as she listened.
Behind her, the lanky man's reaction was far less restrained. His jaw clenched, and the book in his hand creaked slightly under the pressure of his grip, as though it might snap at any moment.
Lumian's lips twitched faintly.
…So they're closing soon.
He glanced briefly toward the entrance in thought. Thank Skywalker I made it in time… otherwise I wouldn't have met them.
He looked back at the two librarians. Besides… I'm not planning to take long. Still… those reactions are a bit much.
...
"Please wait a moment," the female librarian said with a small sigh, though she maintained a polite smile. "I'm pretty sure I've come across something like that. The churches usually distribute their texts, so I should be able to find it."
She turned to her colleague—the lanky man who was still staring at Lumian with barely concealed irritation.
"Could you help me? The Pale Moon Goddess section—those church texts at the back."
The man said nothing at first. Then he gave a stiff nod and dropped the book in his hand onto the table with a dull thud before walking toward the shelves.
Even as he moved, his gaze lingered on Lumian.
A moment later, he returned and shoved a book into Lumian's hands, his expression sour.
"Here," he said flatly. "Take it… enjoy."
The forced curve of his lips didn't reach his eyes.
Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked behind the counter, entering a door to his left.
The moment the door shut—
Bang!
A loud noise echoed from inside, like something striking a wall.
"I just want to go and meet my daughter!" the man's voice rang out, strained and emotional.
Lumian's lips twitched slightly.
…What is going on here?
He handed the pass to the female librarian. She examined it carefully, cross-checking the records before giving a small nod and returning it.
With that, Lumian stepped away.
Outside, darkness had already begun to settle.
He moved deeper into the library and picked a quiet, comfortable spot near a shelf in the middle, the book still in his hands.
...
Lumian began flipping through the pages. At first, it was nothing unusual—praises to the goddess, records of worship, and a few notable events tied to her followers.
But as he reached the final section, something caught his attention.
He slowed down, then stopped.
...Hakli...
The text mentioned a particular event that took place in the age of modern preparation. It was about how the whispers of the Primordial Lord of Chaos, reached another god.
Under that influence, the deity began to act on its deepest desires, abandoning reason and order.
It broke the seal placed by the God of Beginnings, and with that, the boundary between the realms shattered.
Mystical creatures… and even gods… were now able to interfere with human affairs.
For ordinary people, however, things remained mostly unnoticed.
The God of Rivers had intervened—concealing these anomalies, hiding them from human perception, allowing them to exist just out of sight.
Though it was not everything. Death still occurred, as a result of the whispers of the corrupted god.
Lumian raised his brows slightly, as he continued reading.
In an attempt to stop the spreading chaos, the Pale Moon Goddess made a decision.
She sealed the god, not in a distant realm, but within the town he was.
The town became part of the god's dream, and also the people within it.
The dream and the town, all left human perception and could not be seen anymore.
Lumian flipped the next page, but suddenly paused... that was the end.
A short, incomplete account.
That was all the information the book provided about… Hell Day.
...
Lumian lowered the book slightly, his thoughts racing. A town… turned into a dream… The dream is also in another dimension...
Lacey did mention... "the dream will become real."
He exhaled slowly. Does that mean… one day, that dream will overlap with reality?
And the people… they were trapped inside it.
Lumian frowned slightly. But how did the believers even learn about this?
He paused, considering. Perhaps some powerful believers managed to perceive fragments of it… or survived long enough to understand what was happening.
He tapped the book lightly. Could they be more information about this?
Just as he was about to continue—
He turned to the side. The female librarian stood there behind the counter, her body trembling slightly, a strained smile still plastered on her face.
Only then did he realize. He had arrived around six, it was now 7:30.
Lumian's lips curled into an awkward smile. Heh… I should probably leave before I end up dying a mysterious death.
He stood up.
The moment he did, the librarian visibly relaxed, letting out a quiet breath.
Lumian walked over, signed out properly, and returned the book.
As soon as everything was done, the woman immediately called for her colleague, clearly eager to close before any other late visitor appeared.
Lumian stepped outside.
For a moment, he considered hailing a taxi.
…but the thought of how much he had already spent today made his expression tighten slightly.
…Yeah, no.
With a small sigh, he adjusted his coat. Cornerstone isn't that far anyway.
And so, he decided to walk.
...
Cornerstone — Number 21
After arriving home, Lumian was, as expected, scolded by Kelvin for coming back late.
He didn't argue. Instead, he headed straight for the bathroom, took a quick shower, and freshened up before going to the kitchen to get his food.
While eating, he exchanged a few jokes with his siblings, the atmosphere light and familiar.
When he was done, Lumian decided to perform a divination for Kelvin.
It was one of the ways he practiced his role—and gradually obtained a Law.
He used his tarot card, and performed the divination. As he has always done this, his siblings never suspected he was a sorcerer, they thought it was just a form of entertainment.
The result came soon after. Kelvin would have a happy and fulfilling life. Their financial situation would improve.
When Lumian mentioned his future with Helen, he added casually, "Two boys… and a girl."
Kelvin immediately covered part of his face, slightly embarrassed.
Laura burst into laughter. "So I'm going to be an aunt, very soon. Hehe."
Lumian chuckled softly. But the divination didn't end there.
It came along with a divine message.
Never lose to grief… and always hold on to hope.
Lumian's expression softened slightly. After that, he said nothing more.
He returned to his room, lay down on his bed... and soon fell asleep.