Lumian remained patient and waited until midnight.
It was almost half past eleven, and the glass window corresponding to the Eve room was no longer lit, but no one left the apartment.
This looks like the miser saw that it was too late, so in order to save gas bills, he simply turned off the lights and went to sleep.
As midnight approached, the last play of the Old Pigeon Cage Theater came to an end, and the audience left one after another, and no one entered.
Lumian said to himself again:
"Isn't it true that the answer obtained by the 'Prophecy' is not accurate enough? After all, that ritual magic was a prayer made to myself, and it is understandable that the effect is not good.
"Well, that's a possibility.
"But what if the 'art of prophecy' is correct?"
Lumian turned his mind and was shocked.
He suddenly turned his head sideways and looked at the door of the Old Pigeon Cage Theater surrounded by posters.
If the "art of prophecy" is correct, it means that Mr. Eff really stayed at the Old Dovecage Theater during the time period from 11 to 12 o'clock.
And Mr. Eve is really in the old pigeon cage theater, who is the Mr. Eve who entered the apartment just now and did not leave?
He is most likely fake!
Feigned!
"No......" Lumian couldn't believe his speculation.
It's not that he hasn't seen Mr. Eve or talked to him, how could he have been deceived by a fake?
In comparison, he prefers to believe that the "art of prophecy" is not effective.
"Perhaps, there is a tunnel at the bottom of the apartment that leads to the Old Pigeon Cage Theater?" Lumian struggled to find the reason.
It is easier to get a tunnel in Trier than in other cities, you only need to dig a short section to connect to the tunnels and sewers underground, but this is also easy to spot, because the underground Trier is really crowded, there are often quarry police patrols, smuggling caravans passing by, and growers passing by.
And if Mr. Eff's apartment really had a similar tunnel, he wouldn't have gone out last time while it was dark to go to the nearby underground Trier entrance.
In the midst of the thoughts, Lumian recalled two things:
First, when he first met Mr. Eve, he "looked" at his fortune, but when he "met" him the next day, he found that his fortune had changed strangely;
Second, Mr. Eve obviously has extraordinary abilities, and there is a high probability that he believes in the evil god "Mother Tree of Desire", and the order is not high, but when the official extraordinary person got him to the police station for questioning, he did not find anything abnormal.
Combining the answer of the "Prophecy" and the contradiction of reality, Lumian's eyes shrank and he said to himself in a deep voice:
"Is it true or false?"
After being "robbed" by him, the one living in the apartment opposite is a fake Mr. Eff?
That's why the fortune changed, and the problem was not found by the official extraordinary?
"Why does he look exactly like Mr. Eff? Did he use a magical object similar to 'secret glasses' to put on makeup, or something else? Is the fake Mr. Eve an ordinary person? Is it true that Mr. Eve has been hiding somewhere in the old pigeon cage?" The more Lumian thought about it, the more creepy it became.
No one found out that this directly replaced a person!
At least the person in the mirror on Crystal's side will still be upside down!
"This matter is getting more and more evil, as expected of the believers of the evil god......" Lumian sighed sincerely.
From the various abilities of that perverted Hedsee, he had already guessed that Mr. Eve should have discovered something abnormal after being "robbed", after all, 1 Felkin is also money, and no robber would be willing to throw it away, and if it was really lost, it means that the robbery was not the real purpose, so it is understandable that Mr. Eve was prepared and hid from the official extraordinary, Lumian just didn't expect them to use such a weird method:
Unexpectedly, a person who looks exactly like Mr. Eff was found!
For a moment, Lumian couldn't tell whether the fake Mr. Eve in the apartment was an ordinary person with "magical makeup" painted by an extraordinary person, or an evil god believer with special abilities.
If it was the former, he would like to take advantage of the dead of night to come directly to the door, arrest the other party, beat him up, force him to ask the truth, and then throw him to the police station or a certain church to let the official extraordinary person finish off.
If it was the latter, he wouldn't dare to be too reckless, no one knew how many fakes were equivalent to sequences and what abilities they had.
Lumian turned his head sideways again, glanced at the brick-red three-story building where the old pigeon cage theater was located, and found that no audience had come out at the door.
This dispelled his idea of going in and taking a look at it again.
Today's last drama has come to an end!
After thinking for a while, Lumian planned to make some preparations.
He stood up slowly, followed the shadow that the lights of Gas Road could not illuminate, all the way to the honest market.
Along the way, he kept looking at the homeless men sleeping on the side of the road and sleeping in the corner, their eyes were deep and very serious.
Finally, he found a suitable target:
The homeless man huddled under the barricade in the alley, his clothes tattered and covered in mud, and his legs had wounds bitten by stray dogs, bloodstains and ferocity, oozing yellow liquid.
In Lumian's eyes, this guy is riddled with bad luck, and he will encounter a series of disasters in the next two or three days, and even his life is in danger.
This is a good "material" for holding the "Transfer Technique"!
Yes, Lumian intends to use the Ritual Magic "Technique of Transport" that comes with the "Mendicant Monk" to craft an item that can transmit bad luck.
If Mr. Fake Eve is very unlucky and always has various situations, then he will most likely expose his problems to the official extraordinary!
Based on this idea, Lumian had been selecting the most unlucky homeless people just now - this group itself belonged to the unlucky kind.
Pulling down his peaked hat, he walked to the homeless man, turned his back to the gas street lamp on the street outside, and completely hid his face in the shadows.
Lumian then squatted down, put on black gloves, and pushed the homeless man.
"...... you," the homeless man asked when he woke up, slightly painful and confused.
"I need your help with this matter, are you willing?" Lumian took out a silver coin worth 1 ferkin, carved with chelors and divergent threads.
The homeless man's gaze was sucked by the silver coin, and he nodded without hesitation and said:
"No problem!"
As he spoke, he stretched out his hand, as if he could smell the scent of apple cider sour wine and thick meatloaf at the tip of his nose.
After getting the silver coin, the homeless man's eyes suddenly straightened, looked at Lumian's back, and blurted out in astonishment:
"That's ......."
Taking advantage of Lumian's turn, he pressed his hands and stood up suddenly, trying to climb over the barricade and run to the bottom of the alley.
What to give money to a homeless person and ask him to cooperate in doing something is very dangerous when you hear it!
The choice of a normal homeless person is, of course, to accept the money and run away quickly!
Syllable!
Lumian withdrew his right hand and calmly watched as the homeless man fell softly on the barricade and passed out.
He never thought about letting the homeless man awaken to witness everything, because even if he blindfolded the other party and plugged the other party's ears, it could be dangerous, and there was a certain probability of exposing his identity and the very evil ritual magic of "Transfer Technique".
Therefore, his plan was to ask the other party for advice exactly, and after getting permission, he would directly knock him unconscious.
Lumian helped his drunken companion to set up the tramp, took him to the nearest underground Trier entrance, hid him in a nearby hideaway, and bound his hands and feet, blindfolded him, and blocked his ears.
After doing all this, he sneaked back to the Breeze Ballroom, found a calcium carbide lamp, and brought the corresponding tools.
Immediately afterwards, he returned to the entrance, picked up the unconscious homeless man, and went all the way to the hollow of the quarry where the "Art of Prophecy" was held before.
Unlike last time, although it was still a dual ritual method, the orange-yellow candle at the top, which represented the gods and other prayer objects, was replaced with an off-white one.
It also contains Lumian's blood.
To increase the probability of success, Lumian planned to use this ritual magic to "pray" to the contamination sealed on his chest, mobilizing a trace of its power.
After simply repairing the altar and creating the "Spiritual Wall", he stabbed the homeless man with the perverted Hedsey dagger, causing his blood to flow into a metal vial.
The homeless man woke up because of this, but was knocked unconscious again in an instant.
Lumian immediately disinfected and bandaged his wound, blended the blood with the ashes from the burning of a few of his hairs into a kind of "ink", picked up the finest brush, and sketched several complex and mysterious symbols on a piece of imitation parchment:
There were rings made of black thorns that he was familiar with, small snakes intertwined from end to end, rivers made of such small snakes, twisted lines, strange eyes, and so on.
Barely finished, Lumian was already in a cold sweat on his forehead.
He placed the tramp and the imitation parchment paper full of symbols on the boulder that served as the altar, dripped perfume into the firelight, sprinkled the powder, took two steps back, looked at the gently shaking yellowish candle fire, and said in the ancient Hermesian language:
"The power of fate!
"You are the past, the present, and the future;
"You are the cause, the result, and the process."
As many times before, the candlelight representing the gods was first compressed to the extreme, and then expanded, the size of a fist, silver white and black, and the surrounding things were all distorted, with gray mist everywhere and black wind blowing.
Lumian, whose ears were full of crazy murmurs, endured his dizziness and changed to Hermes language:
"I pray to you;
"I pray that you will change the fate of this poor man;
"Pray that you will take away his doom."
Thinking of this, Lumian took a step forward, gathered the imitation parchment paper painted with mysterious symbols, and lit it on the silver-white and black candlelight, placing it in the natural depression on the surface of the altar.
The next second, he took out a gold coin worth 5 felkin engraved with a sunbird and placed it next to the homeless man.
For misers, money is something that cannot be refused, and it will be the best medium!
Lumian, who seemed to be carrying thousands of pounds on his back, took a step back, and waited until the imitation parchment was burned out before reciting the final spell:
"Gray amber, a herb that belongs to fate, please pass on the power to my spell ......"
The entire altar suddenly became bright and unethereal, and Lumian seemed to have an illusory, complex, and cold river of mercury flowing quietly in front of him.
It wrapped the tramp and the gold coin inside, making the whispers in Lumian's ears clearer, and the cyan veins on his face bulging one after another.
Lumian instinctively feared the pain similar to that of asking for a "gift", and suddenly, the illusory image shrank and fell on the surface of the gold coin on the altar.
Everything returned to normal, only the gold coin looked a little dim under the silver-white and black light.
(End of this chapter)