Chapter 188: The Ball

Chapter One Hundred Eighty-Eight
The Ball

A firm, high bridge of the nose. Sparse eyebrows. Cheeks that sagged slightly. Pale blue eyes…

Qilangos looked at himself in the mirror, examining the reflection up and down several times and confirming there was no difference whatsoever between himself and the unconscious man.

After imitating several of the other man’s habitual gestures, he bent, dragged the man on the floor to the side, and stuffed him into the wardrobe.

Then he extended his right hand and, with a crack, snapped the man’s neck.

Taking out a handkerchief, Qilangos wiped his palm, then pulled the wardrobe door shut.

He slowly returned to the full-length mirror, draped on a black double-breasted tailcoat, tied his bow tie, then picked up a bottle of amber-colored perfume. He dripped several drops onto his wrist and wiped them onto different parts of his body.

After combing his hair before the mirror, Qilangos left the room, closing the door casually behind him. To the butler waiting outside, he said, “Do not allow anyone into my room. There are important items inside.”

“Yes, Baron!”

The butler, whose hair was mottled with gray, pressed a hand to his chest and bowed.

“Your carriage and accompanying servants are waiting downstairs. Duke Negan’s invitation is there as well.”

Qilangos maintained a baron’s bearing and gave a nearly imperceptible nod. Accompanied by the butler, he walked with arrogant posture toward the staircase.

Hah. A baron carrying no small amount of debt, unwilling even to hire ordinary security personnel, yet he still keeps a butler, a personal valet, two attendants, two first-class maids, four second-class maids, two laundry maids, a coachman, a groom, a gardener, a cook, and a cook’s assistant. To these foolish nobles, dignity really does outweigh everything… This forced me to waste time learning their bizarre pronunciations of certain words and their so-called aristocratic accent…

Qilangos thought coldly and disdainfully.

…

Backlund, Cherwood Borough. Inside a cramped apartment.

Xio Derecha sat cross-legged on the bed, watching Fors Wall read a novel by the window light.

“It really is despairing. Qilangos left no clues at all. We still cannot find out what exactly he wants to do in Backlund.”

Following their original plan, they had made several detours to report the matter to the police, then secretly sent a letter to the police station handling the case, describing in detail the strange state of the murder scene and the suspected criminal, Qilangos.

The police department’s reaction had not exceeded their expectations. Placing caution first, they had directly transferred the matter to the Mandated Punishers.

After a day of fermentation, the news that Vice Admiral Hurricane Qilangos had infiltrated Backlund spread through every official enforcement squad. Xio and Fors also left the place they had originally rented, went into hiding, and carried out concealed investigation.

They had no desire to be brought back to the police station to assist the investigation. Whether Mandated Punishers, Nighthawks, or members of the Machinery Hivemind, all were hostile toward Beyonders who did not belong to official organizations, viewing them as potential criminals.

Thus, Xio and Fors were not only avoiding possible pursuit from Qilangos, but also avoiding those “enforcers.”

“If his purpose could be found by us so easily, Qilangos would have long since been buried in a cemetery, with lush weeds growing in front of his gravestone,” Fors answered unhurriedly. “What we need is patience. As long as an investigation of this intensity continues, Qilangos will inevitably make mistakes. I have to say, a magical item that lets a person change into different appearances really does make one envious.”

Xio hugged her knees and looked toward the windowsill.

“I am only worried that Qilangos will act in a short period of time, then escape Backlund before anyone can react.

“If that happens, I will have no idea when I can advance to Sequence 8, much less Sequence 6 or Sequence 5…”

She paused for a few seconds. Then, lost in thought, she whispered, “And I will have even less idea when I can take back what belongs to my family… I have not seen my younger brother in nearly a year…”

Fors smiled comfortingly.

“When you fulfill your wish, please allow me to write your experiences into a story. It will definitely be very brilliant and very interesting.

“Mm, actually, considering Miss Audrey’s generosity, I believe that even if the matter ends here, she will still give us a handsome bounty. After all, we have been busy for so long. After all, we forced Qilangos to show himself.”

“I hope so… Sigh. Why can I not have a fortuitous encounter?”

Xio clawed randomly at her shoulder-length blond hair.

Fors frowned slightly.

“In the extraordinary world, fortuitous encounters are often accompanied by danger. Even now, I still do not know what the ravings that appear each full moon represent, nor whether they will cause any bad changes. Heh, harmless fortuitous encounters do exist, but they are extremely, extremely rare. Your wish is truly difficult to realize—unless we receive the favor of an orthodox deity, or the gaze of some friendly hidden existence. And yet, we would find it difficult to distinguish whether that was actually the disguise of an evil god or demon.”

Xio straightened her back and drew a crimson moon over her chest.

“May the Goddess protect me!”

…

Inside Duke Negan’s residence in Backlund’s Queen’s Borough, a grand ball was underway.

The venue was divided into two parts. One was the dance hall, located on the ground floor. Its floor was paved with magnificent stone slabs carved full of intricate patterns, and in a corner stood an excellent orchestra belonging to the Duke. Following the staircases at either end of the hall upward, one reached the second-floor gallery that encircled the hall. Guests holding wineglasses stood before the railings, looking down upon the dancing below, rather like watching a fencing match from the stands. From time to time, gentlemen walked before young ladies or married ladies and invited them to dance. If permission was granted, the two would take hands, descend the stairs, and enter the hall.

On the other side of the gallery, away from the dance hall, were door after door leading mostly to guest lounges.

Behind one set of double doors, however, was a corridor. On both sides stood different plaster statues, all of them ancestors of the Negan family.

At the end of that corridor lay the other half of the ball: another hall, filled with long tables bearing all sorts of delicacies and fine wines. Another of the Duke’s orchestras played relaxed, melodious music for the guests.

Inside this hall, guests gathered in groups of twos and threes, some seated and some standing, discussing all sorts of matters. Those who wished to briefly escape the noise entered one of the balconies attached to the hall, looking out over the garden scenery and the crimson moon in the sky.

Audrey Hall, who had skipped the opening dance, had originally been standing on the second floor of the dance hall, gazing vacantly at the enormous crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling and at the candles set upon it. But after noticing that quite a few people were eager to come over and invite her to dance, she cleverly left and stepped onto the corridor leading toward the “dining hall.”

How boring… but I cannot simply not attend… Sigh, why can they not let me quietly observe there? I have to say, some people’s expressions while dancing are truly rich. They always remind me of animals courting mates…

Audrey lowered her head, looked at the tips of her shoes, and boredly walked in a straight line.

Just then, from the corner of her eye, she saw a figure approaching. She hurriedly slowed her steps, straightened her back, and instantly became the elegant and quiet Miss Hall again.

“Hello, Baron Gramir,” Audrey greeted with flawless smile and etiquette.

Baron Gramir, with sparse eyebrows and pale blue eyes, smiled and returned the greeting.

“Hello, Miss Hall. You are the brightest, most dazzling gem at this ball.”

After exchanging a few pleasantries, Baron Gramir walked toward the dance hall, while Audrey continued toward the dining hall.

After taking a few steps, she suddenly furrowed her brows, her emerald eyes filled with doubt.

“Baron Gramir is a little different from usual…”

“In the past, when he saw young ladies and madams whose status was higher than his and who were rather beautiful, his gaze would move aside, not daring to look directly, and then he would keep stealing glances… But today, he seemed very confident…”

“And his perfume smells wrong. When he attended gatherings before, the scent on him was always the base note of Amber—pure musk, faint, not ostentatious yet noble. In other words, he would spray perfume several hours in advance, allowing the top and middle notes to evaporate before the banquet. But just now, the fragrance on him was Amber’s middle note, dense, mellow, and elegant…”

Audrey’s pace grew slower and slower. As a Spectator who had fully digested her potion, her sensitivity to details was absolutely not something ordinary Beyonders could compare with.

Suddenly, she thought of a possibility. Her crystal-bright green eyes froze.

“Could that be Qilangos in disguise?”

“Creeping Hunger has the Beyonder ability to let someone change into different appearances!”

…

The more Audrey thought about it, the more possible it seemed. Her heart abruptly lifted, filled with both nervousness and panic.

“If it really is Vice Admiral Hurricane, what does he want to do? Unfortunately, I cannot bring Susie to the ball. Otherwise, I could have had her secretly observe Baron Gramir just now… No, I must warn Father!”

Amid a flurry of thoughts, Audrey quickened her steps, entered the dining hall, and found Earl Hall, who was currently conversing with the Cabinet’s Chief Secretary and several others.

She outlined an impeccable smile, walked over, took Earl Hall’s arm, and said to the others, “Gentlemen, may I borrow Earl Hall for a few minutes?”

“Beautiful lady, that is your right,” the gentlemen answered amiably.

Audrey pulled Earl Hall to the nearest balcony and found a secluded corner. Facing her middle-aged, somewhat plump father, she said, “Father, I have something to tell you.”

Earl Hall had originally worn a doting smile, but seeing his daughter’s expression so serious, he also grew solemn.

“What is it?”

“I just met Baron Gramir, but in certain details, he was different from before. For example, the scent of perfume on him belonged to the middle note of Amber, whereas before it was the base note. Also…”

Audrey spoke about the differences she had observed. They could all be explained by sharpness and careful attention.

After describing the earlier situation, she chose her words and added, “I heard Viscount Glaint mention that Vice Admiral Hurricane Qilangos has the ability to change into other people’s appearances. Has he not been in Backlund recently?”

Earl Hall listened quietly, his expression turning unusually grave.

But he quickly smiled and soothed his slightly panicked daughter.

“I will handle it. Go find your mother and stay with her. She is in the lounge in this hall.”

“All right.”

Audrey obediently nodded.

On the way to the lounge, she glanced back at her father and saw Earl Hall speaking quietly with a noble, his expression extremely serious.

Audrey’s heart involuntarily hung in the air again. She felt she had to do something, lest her father, mother, and elder brother suffer harm.

Sweeping her gaze around once, she changed direction, left the dining hall, entered a corridor, and with familiarity found the small prayer room in Duke Negan’s house.

She pushed open the door, locked it behind her, glanced at the symbol of the Lord of Storms ahead, and instinctively found a dark, secluded corner.

Audrey sat down, leaned forward, and clasped both hands together, pressing them against her lowered forehead in a posture of prayer.

Then, in a low voice, she recited in Hermes:

“The Fool that does not belong to this era;

“You are the mysterious ruler above the gray fog;

“You are the King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck.”