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Once you identify yourself, the heretical hunters of the Hunter's Order will take over, and there's no need to trouble the Hermit Lady.
Robbie Shaw reached out and took the inchworm's report, his expression shifting several times, making him look somewhat strange.
Why didn't the inchworm bargain at all? Is this common knowledge in Gormouth?
Despite his doubts, he still broke the sealing wax seal and began the inspection.
As he read on, the information broker's expression grew increasingly grave, and his Adam's apple bobbed slightly. The letter contained secrets of the Galonson royal court, the Star Abyss Society's plot, and the true nature of the calamity that befell the fallen city…
Although the highly confidential information was only briefly summarized, it was enough to give the society a comprehensive and deeper understanding of the current situation in the Abyss Kingdom.
"...Please accept my respects, Inchworm Master Zhu."
Robbie Shaw tucked the letter into a hidden pocket with slightly trembling fingers, then handed over his investigation files on the Dwyer case. His movements were so swift, as if he were worried the other party might change their mind.
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soup!
Chapter Thirty-Two: Drowning in the Theater
The inchworm reached out and took the investigation documents from Robbie Shaw, then, after taking a sip of absinthe, immediately began to examine them, just like the other man.
In unstable areas with high exposure risks, intelligence meetings like these are usually conducted with speed as the top priority. Both parties will review the documents provided by the other party as quickly as possible, and then leave after confirming their validity.
However, the inchworm at this moment does not have this concern.
He was not being pursued by the Hunters Order, and had been in contact with several of its members of considerable rank, so his identity was quite legitimate... If he were to unfortunately run into a Secret Service agent, he would simply share the intelligence he had just acquired with that agent.
"Safety" is undoubtedly a good thing, but the inchworm did not feel too happy about it.
In his view, a secret rendezvous seems to lack something if it is not accompanied by law enforcement investigation and the risk of being convicted after being exposed, so that it fails to provide the full, heart-pounding experience.
Raising his hand to adjust his silver-framed square glasses, the inchworm's gaze fell on the scroll of investigation documents.
The Dwyer Case Investigation Report
[1. Factory worker Dwyer Cousins and his younger brother Lenormont Cousins, who was studying at an art school, had clean records and no trace or record of contact with cult practitioners before the incident. However, Lenormont had previously purchased paintings in small quantities in multiple batches, which is likely the direct cause of the incident.]
[2. According to information exchanged between a high-ranking clerk and the head of the Secret Service, a young funeral maid was injured during a dangerous encounter in the Dwyer case. She should have died, but was rescued by a senior detective.]
[Our records contain the name of this veteran agent, "Vivian." Confusingly, her service appears to have been relatively short. A divination performed by a shaman of the Luminous Order yielded the result that "she played an indispensable and crucial role in the upheaval at Gormouth."]
3. The Funeral Court has recently begun a strict audit of the inflow and outflow of various types of handicrafts, and most gray-market industries that fail to pay their taxes are being investigated as well. Therefore, try to avoid getting involved with related artifacts to avoid attracting hunters with search warrants to your door.
[4. According to a surrealist painter within the society, his inspiration is increasing daily. We once asked the high priest to perform a divination using his recent works as a medium, but he simply applied another layer of white paint to white paper. The divination result was also a pure white.]
[5. A high-ranking priest made a deduction based on vague memories. "A dangerous incident directly related to the scroll—it sounds familiar, and seems to be related to a lost moth relic. But the specifics… I've forgotten."]
……
In addition to established conclusions and statements, this investigation report also contains a large amount of testimony, inferences, and cited references.
It may not be as valuable as intelligence accurately describing the upheaval at Gormouth, but its content is by no means perfunctory; clearly, Robbieshaw went to great lengths to obtain it. The Obscure Society's level of interest was also strangely unusual; they even proactively contacted the Secret Service.
"While we haven't reached a definitive conclusion yet, you won't find more comprehensive information here than I do."
Seeing the inchworm put down the investigation documents and put them away, Robbie Shaw let out a low laugh, his eyes revealing undisguised joy at the deal.
If he could consistently achieve this, he could move to the city center in less than six months, buy a small house, and start retiring earlier than planned...
“I will continue to follow the Dwyer case closely, Inchworm Master. Given the importance of the Gormouth information you provided, I will inform you as soon as I have any new leads. Of course, it will be free of charge, but only for this case.”
"If you ever have a similar business opportunity in the future, I hope you'll think of me first. I'll give you a fair price. Hey, I guarantee it'll be fairer than most ordinary fair prices."
After saying that, Robbie Shaw downed the pitcher of draft beer in his hand in one gulp, and then, quite unusually, went to the tavern counter to pay the bill, along with the inchworm's glass of absinthe.
Although he wasn't exactly familiar with Robbie Shaw, Inchworm knew very well that, given the guy's habits... at times like this, he would usually just leave and leave the payment for the drinks to the other party.
Judging from his current eagerness, the intelligence from Gormouth must be very important to him.
After completing this exceptionally pleasant transaction, the information broker immediately prepared to leave. While the inchworm possessed a legitimate identity and strong connections, he lacked these. If he were caught, even if he didn't end up in jail, he would most likely have to reveal everything he knew.
To say this was a huge loss wouldn't be entirely accurate. Intelligence is important, but its specific value depends more on the needs of the trader. However, being arrested is a rather serious professional stain for an intelligence dealer.
As he lifted his foot to leave, the inchworm gestured for him to stop with its eyes and then asked a question.
“Robbishau, I remember you were a career consultant, right?”
“Oh…that’s right, Inchworm Master Zhu.”
Robbie Shaw paused slightly, and after a moment's thought, he responded with a hint of realization.
For him, terms like "consultant" or "professional headhunter" were too formal, giving off a distant, high-end feel, so much so that he didn't immediately grasp their meaning. He needed to think about it more carefully to understand what the inchworm was trying to express.
In Robbieshaw's environment, the kind of guy who finds jobs for others and collects a commission is generally called a broker. Of course, there's also a more common and straightforward term... namely, "broker."
Do you have any employment needs?
He asked the question rather cautiously, a hint of doubt appearing on his face beneath his robe.
Based on the white cup brooch that Chihuo provided during the initial identity verification phase, he is currently a lecturer at Norrington Central College. The pay, work environment, and rest time there are virtually impeccable; theoretically, he shouldn't need to find extra work for himself.
"Because of the conditions required for studying certain esoteric rituals, I need a place with enough attention, enough fervor and longing."
The inchworm offered an explanation.
Although there was no shortage of gazes on the academy's podium, the students mostly absorbed what he was saying and remained thoughtful throughout. What he needed was a gaze that was intense enough to melt away the rationality of logical thinking.
"This... please let me think about it."
Robbie Shaw sat back down, feeling somewhat awkward.
He was indeed familiar with the profession described, and making the connection wouldn't be difficult. After all, Moth disciples occasionally had such needs, and as a professional intermediary within the cult, he couldn't possibly be unaware of it.
The only problem is that the job isn't particularly respectable.
"Chihuo Sizhu, please forgive my rudeness if what I said is not to your liking."
"The 'Drowning Theater' in the West End Secret Realm is currently looking for a lead dancer. This job perfectly meets your requirements, and their employment contracts are quite formal. At least the Society has not received any feedback about any irregularities."
At this point, Robbie Shaw coughed lightly and then provided further explanation.
"The only problem is that they prefer women to do this job."
After he finished speaking, he immediately looked up at the inchworm without making it obvious, trying to observe its true emotions through changes in its expression.
"This is normal."
The inchworm remained calm, showing no surprise.
For an institution to maintain its long-term existence, its primary goal is to ensure profitability, with artistic pursuits only following that path. Ideally, both can be achieved, but if not, one must inevitably have to yield.
Furthermore, from a practical standpoint, female dancers do possess a natural advantage in terms of aesthetic appeal and are more likely to attract the attention of wealthy patrons.
"However... it just so happens that I can meet their needs."
As they spoke, the inchworm removed its delicate silver-framed square mirror and carefully placed it into a box.
Although he was a dark-haired Gormouth, he had served as a foreign clerk for the Obscure Society in Attilon in his early years, and thus retained the custom of growing long hair and using gold chains as ornaments from the Land of Shifting Sands.
Before he took off his glasses, Robbieshaw had only thought of Inchworm as a pale and gloomy young scholar. But after that inconspicuous action, he gave off a completely different impression.
Her eyebrows were slightly raised, her eyes held a melancholy gaze, and her features were harmoniously integrated in a soft and peaceful manner. She subtly revealed the lingering sorrow of Golmouth culture, as well as the captivating and unique charisma of the Attilian dancers.
The inchworm seemed to have made some kind of adjustment to the bone structure of its face, so that at this moment it gave people an intuitive feeling that was infinitely close to a woman, and after it tied up its black hair with the gold silk chain of Atilan, it was very similar to a real Ahanta dancer.
"Compared to the third type of er◆∏旧!$琳≠私）叁※'；≯肿∏&ZHuanqUN: Secret Technique [Transformation], my level of disguise is slightly lacking. After all, not everyone can mold their own flesh and skin as freely as the followers of the cup."
His voice changed from clear and bright to soothing, as if the structure of his vocal cords and resonance cavities had also changed.
"However, most Red Cup dancers merely use their physical skills to keep up with the drumbeats, like snakes dancing to the sound of a flute. They have no idea of the true meaning of rhythm and dance; they simply swing their limbs mechanically and repetitively."
“Go and get me a job interview, Robbie Shaw. I hope to get it done before the end of this month.”
"……I see."
Looking at the inchworm, whose temperament and appearance were completely different from before, Robbie Shaw's eyes lingered for a moment, and then he quickly nodded after regaining his senses.
"I'll contact the Drowning Theater tomorrow. I don't think they'll refuse to offer an interview opportunity. There's no need for a commission; consider it a bonus for this deal. However, if you really want to gain their approval, you'll have to rely on yourself."
"The good news is that they have always welcomed followers of the Night Moth and are unlikely to have any other ulterior motives."
Although he was a member of the Mysterious Society, he didn't have much talent for studying esoteric rituals. After reading those books or pictures that were like riddles and whose meanings were hard to understand, he would only feel more sleepy and would not have any special feelings. Moreover, his perception of spirits was at the level of an ordinary person.
To be fair, this guy is more suited to serve in the Six-Eyed Raven Order.
Therefore, even though Robbie Shaw knew that most of the priests of the Obscure Society possessed the secret arts of altering one's original form, he couldn't help but feel surprised when he saw it with his own eyes. It's just that he accepted it much faster than the average person.
“Hmm.” The inchworm had no objection to this.
He was very familiar with the dancer application process and naturally had no concerns about it. Although he was still relatively inexperienced in his early years at Attilion, he was still able to stand out among the candidates and steadily become the lead dancer in that banquet tavern.
Later, the inchworm's various secret rituals broke through the original bottlenecks, and his economic situation gradually improved. After another job transfer, he finally bid farewell to the banquet tavern called "Bell Fork and Bone Cup" and returned to his hometown of Foy, where he began to devote himself to studying the classics.
Thinking back to his somewhat unforgettable school experience more than a decade ago, he couldn't help but feel a little wistful.
Who would have thought that a prospective high priest who was close to the fourth rank would conceal his identity and work as a banquet dancer in his youth not out of a need to study esoteric rituals or out of personal interest, but simply for money?
The old guys at the top of the Misty Society threw him into Ahan Tower to eat sand, and then basically offered him no real help. If it weren't for the meager monthly stipend still being paid on time, he probably would have thought he had been abandoned.
At that time, the inchworm was like a poor student working hard to support himself, and he also had to endure the meaningless instructions from the higher-ups of the society from time to time.
Over time, even the manager of the Bell Fork and White Bone Cup tavern developed a fondness for him, because he was the only dancer who would spend all his time reading after a performance. It is often this kind of quality that makes people have a unique and wonderful impression of him.
This is why the inchworm betrayed Fran so decisively when they met in the third habitat, without any hesitation.
He needs to find a better boss for himself.
Without a doubt, the Hermit Lady is the perfect choice.
Although she didn't pay much attention to me, she wasn't stingy with her rewards. On the Leviathan, she resolved my employment and resettlement in Norrington with just a few words and with extremely high standards. Not to mention that newborn left eye.
As night deepened, the atmosphere in the tavern thankfully remained lively, not yet cooled down.
Robbie Shaw had been gone for a while, and only Inchworm remained in the seat.
This guy has finished his business and should be leaving by now. However, he's currently under the influence of absinthe and is constantly reminiscing about the past, so he doesn't seem inclined to get up yet.
The inchworm used to work as a dancer simply to earn a living, but now he needs a change in status to find some excitement in his life…
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soup!
Chapter Thirty-Three: The Frosty Moon Approaches
Norrington, the Order of the Mysteries, Medical Court.
As the month draws to a close in Portugal, late autumn is coming to an end, and winter is fast approaching.
After nearly a month of bed rest, Ift's physical condition has gradually recovered, and her vitality and spirit have returned to the level before the injury. She has even slightly improved in terms of athletic ability.
Vulnerability is the natural essence of the mortal body.
Even though Fran's external intervention spared the young funeral maid from a painful and distorted death, the effects of the distortion and alienation of her soul and body still kept her on the hospital bed in the infirmary for a long time. During this time, she was surrounded by nightmares, and when she closed her eyes, she could see her strangely shaped self approaching step by step.
Although the medication provided by a doctor greatly reduced her tendency toward mental alienation and stabilized her nearly dissipated sense of self, she still found it difficult to avoid having several nightmares.
Although Ifrit's mental fortitude was far inferior to Sister Heda's, any trainee who graduated from Instructor Naur was certainly not bad. For her, this was merely a trial, not an insurmountable obstacle or a nightmare capable of causing psychological trauma.
"call……"
Ift reached out and lifted the warm and soft blankets on the bed, then took a water glass from the iron cabinet next to her and took a small sip to moisten her slightly dry throat.
In the first few days after she started having these dreams, she would occasionally feel palpitations.
But as his physical condition gradually improved, the eerie fear that had been lurking within him began to dissipate. To this day, the distorted and bizarre dream visions have completely faded, becoming only a blurry and distant phantom in his memory.
"Time to go to the training ground."
Ife glanced up at the hospital room window.
The sky was already gradually brightening, and the pale morning sunlight, almost devoid of warmth, streamed into the room through the sheer curtains. ⊙． ｛「∨
Although it is not yet the season for using winter time, the sunrise time has indeed begun to be significantly later than usual.
The nun had regained her mobility two weeks ago, but considering the psychological impact and potential hidden trauma, the medical department postponed her discharge to a month later. Until then, she could only undergo the most basic rehabilitation training, and even staying in the training ground for a little longer would draw nagging from the head nurse.
The saying "illness comes like a landslide, but recovery is like pulling silk" is a theory that fits reality quite well.
But Eve's recovery time was surprisingly fast, which puzzled many of her doctors, who performed each routine check-up with extreme care and attention, trying to find any indicators they had overlooked.
The final conclusion is... this guy seems to be a little too healthy.