Silent Crown

Chapter 111: Nightmare Attack

Sam Luo stood expressionless before the corpse. He tossed the bow to his bodyguard Sandro, then took out a handkerchief and blew his nose forcefully. He tossed the dirty handkerchief on the corpse and turned to leave.

After two steps, however, Sam Luo suddenly grabbed the bow from Sandro and rushed back, aiming at the corpse. He pulled back frantically, "F*ck, they, f*ck…"

Twang! Twang! Twang! Twang!

As everyone held their breath, he emptied a quiver of arrows. Furious, he slammed the quiver onto the ground and yanked on Sandro's collar. Dragging the man to his face, he roared, "Dig another ditch and get those *sses who saw the demon! I want to see them in the ditch tomorrow night, understand? Otherwise I want to see you all in there…"

Seeing his stormy expression, Sandro gulped and nodded stiffly.

Light laughter traveled with the wind. It had come from behind Sam Luo.

"Who is it?!" the Pyramid King spun around, staring at the dancing darkness behind the withered tree. "Who's there? Get the f*ck out!" he roared in anger, glaring at the vague shadow. As the shadow laughed, Sam motioned for his men to investigate.

Sandro gulped and shook his head, "Boss, there's nothing there."

"No f*cking way!" The Pyramid King raised his bow, and under everyone's confused eyes, emptied another quiver at the tree in the shadows. In the end, the dancing darkness finally shattered, and everything looked how it should.

Panting, he threw down the bow. He grabbed a torch and marched over, but there was nobody there. There was only a shattered tombstone. The Pyramid King looked at the tombstone in shock. Putting the torch closer, the flame illuminated the name on the tombstone, as well as his deathly pale face.

Beside him, Sandro yelped and stumbled back as if he had seen a ghost.

—

The words on the tombstone were menacing under the flame's light, "Here lies Sam Luo." There were also a few lines of an epitaph below it:

"Buried here is a traitor, someone blind with greed, a rat."

"Anta? Anta's back!" Suddenly remembering something, Sandro became pale. "Boss, Anta's back! He came back to…"

"Shut up. Anta is dead." Sam looked at him emotionlessly. Seeing those dead eyes, Sandro trailed off. Anta's name was definitely familiar to the senior members of the Pyramid Scheme. When the group was first created, it was not called the Pyramid Scheme. Sam was not born as the leader either. At that time, it was called the Brother Gang. Anta was the leader, and everyone respected him, uniting under him.

Anta had fled from Romulus. He had werewolf blood in him, and no one in downtown could win against this man marked by demons. He did not say much and was never greedy. He would share his profits with those who called themselves his brother and felt that he had a family like this. Sam was part of his 'family.'

Anta had protected this bankrupt merchant. Treating him like a brother, Anta pulled him out of his quagmire of debt. Sam considered Anta as his brother too. The man had treated him so well and never asked for anything in return. Even his own father could not compare.

But then Sam no longer wanted to be Anta's brother anymore. Anta was an obstacle, the elites told him. And then Anta died. He died in an alley, shot to death by his own brothers' arrows. Until he died, he had never used his inhuman strength and skill that had given him his status in downtown, winning him the respect of his brothers.

Anta had been surrounded by those he thought was his family, humiliatingly turned into a porcupine, but he did not die then. Instead, he growled furiously like a true werewolf.

"Aren't we brothers?" Anta finally asked Sam, who had planned it all. "We're family. Why did you do this to me?"

"We are family." A little upset, Sam used a dagger to dig out Anta's heart, "Can't you sacrifice a little for family?" And so Anta gave up his heart for his family's success.

"I will not forgive you," Anta had said. Then he died, his eyes wide open.

Later, Sam buried Anta to placate the others, or maybe to placate himself. But Anta's tomb had been dug up. Some said that homeless men dug up his tomb to steal the burial items. Others said that it was opened from the inside. Everyone who had been there would describe to others how there were countless scratches on the coffin. There was blood and flesh all around. They all formed the same name over and over again:

"Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam, Sam…"

"I will not forgive you," the murmur suddenly sounded in his ears again. Sam spun around, blood drained from his face. But there was not a decaying corpse staring at him in the deathly pale moonlight. There was nothing there except for the new members of the Pyramid Scheme. They watched Sam in shock, whispering amongst themselves, unable to hide their fear.

"Anta? It really is Anta!" Staring into the darkness, scared out of his wits, Sandro stumbled back. "You're back?! How can you…"

Crack!

"Calm down, Sandro." The Pyramid King's slap forced Sandro back to reality. Gazing around, he narrowed his hateful eyes, "Someone is messing with us."

"Boss, I-I heard his voice."

"That is Phantom Voice. Musicians love using it to mess with people." Sam Luo forced a cold laugh, repressing the fear in his heart. He had interacted with those legendary figures in all his years living in downtown. Those legendary figures would come do dirty work for money too.

The Pyramid King had hired some before, and had even killed some. No matter how powerful a low-level musician was, he was still a man, and would die when he had lost enough blood.

"He must be close if he wants to affect us, but there's nowhere to hide here" he murmured. His hawk eyes locked on his underlings, "He's hiding within you!"

The group instantly grew restless. They studied each other in shock. None of them had expected a demon to be hiding amongst them.

"Everyone here looks familiar," Sandro said. "There can't be a musician."

Growing sure of this thought, Sam spat out, "For a musician, changing a face is easier than changing his pants!" With his command, the men behind him raised their bows, aiming at the crowd. Stunned, the thugs began yelling. Some gripped the handles of their swords.

"Sam, what are you doing?!" someone yelled. "We're here to make a living. How can you do this to us?"

"No one is allowed to move!" Sam stared coldly at them, "There is a traitor amongst you! No one is allowed to move until we find him! Otherwise, I will be dragging you all to the grave with me. Don't blame me for being heartless!"

In the crowd, Bai Xi stepped back subconsciously. She had started to regret being here. She was here because she worried about Ye Qingxuan, but now he was going to get her killed! But what had just happened made her suspicious. Could her gentle and kind cousin really be the one who had fooled all of those thugs? Or was there someone else? Someone even more dangerous…

She looked around instinctively, observing every terrified face. But there was no trace of Ye Qingxuan. Suddenly, she thought of something. Seeing the surging darkness outside of the area illuminated by torches, she finally knew where Ye Qingxuan was hiding. "That *ss…" she thought.

At the same time, a vague melody sounded. As if the hate sleeping in the cemetery had finally awoken, the melody resounded in each person's ears. The melody, containing countless feelings of franticness, turned into a black river, flowing into their hearts. And so the deepest and most painful memories in their hearts were awoken, bringing with it ineffable terror.

"Monster! There's a monster!" Bai Xi yelled in a deep voice, helping Ye Qingxuan create panic. "Run, the Pyramid King wants to kill us!"

With that, some men could no longer take the strange tension and ran, but the Pyramid King's men coldly raised their bows. The arrows whistled through the air, and a giant hole was made in the back of the running figures. The rune Explosion had been carved onto the arrow! Within a few moments, the writhing body on the ground stopped moving. Black blood flowed from the wound, dying the broken tiles on the path, seeping into the dirt.

"Sam has started already! He wants to kill us all…" Bai Xi yelled in another voice after changing her location. "Get rid of him! He's crazy…"

The crowd rustled. Anger flashed through everyone's eyes as they instinctively grasped their weapons, but they were met with a row of raised bows.

"I said no one is allowed to move!" Sam roared. His eyes darted around, searching for the source of the melody. "Get the f*ck out! You motherf*cker, I know you're here!" But the sharp melody continued to echo like swords scraping against each other. It wailed with inexplicable frustration and depression, as if a vengeful ghost had climbed out of its coffin.

"I said that I will come," the dark melody echoed in the dark and decaying cemetery. A deep voice sounded. It was polite like a gentleman, but filled with mockery. "Thank you for preparing such an unusual welcoming ceremony. To return the gift, I want to bring you the greeting from…an old friend." With that, the dark melody grew in intensity, rushing into Sam's ears like a tidal wave. The chilling sound was like furious roaring, like a demon singing in hell.

Every note slammed into the weakest part of his heart. Every melody dug at his unspeakable past. The dark melody resounded in his consciousness, unearthing the nightmares entangled in his memories. The Pyramid King saw fresh blood flow from the ground. Before him, the corpse that he had just shot opened its eyes. The soulless eyes ignited with fury. It was raw hate.

The corpse's face gradually changed, becoming rough and wild, like a werewolf. His body was filled with arrows. He had been turned into a porcupine, but he refused to die. He stared at the Pyramid King, the man who had once been his brother, "Sam, Sam, Sam…"

The Pyramid King suddenly remembered the moment before the man had died. Lying in blood, Anta had stared deeply into him and murmured as if he were cursing him, "I will not forgive you, Sam!" It truly was…a lifelong nightmare!

"It really is you…" The Pyramid King stumbled back. Unable to accept the reality, his face turned ghastly white, "You're dead! You should be dead!"

In the darkness, the youth gripped his cane, manipulating the dark melody with his eyes closed. He was in a place where it was impossible to be disturbed, and he could focus entirely on manipulating the aether. He could feel the music notes flowing with his mind, jumping out of the instrument strings, falling into the omnipresent sea of aether. The notes echoed and the ripple spread in all directions. It was his first time experiencing this sweet feeling.

Before, precise manipulation had been close to impossible, but now, with the help of Jiu Xiao Huan Pei, it was easy as pie. Maybe this was the 'feeling' that Charles always spoke of. The dark music was a link, connecting man with aether. Ye Qingxuan was entirely submerged in this amazing experience. Jiu Xiao Huan Pei was now fully awake, an extension of his right hand.

For a millennium, this zither had resonated with his ancestors, becoming one with the Ye lineage. Now, it became Ye Qingxuan's cane, helping him run down the road to becoming a musician.

Just as his consciousness expanded with the aether, the melody suddenly stopped. "Bai Xi? Old Phil?" His eyes flew open in shock. "Why are you here?!"

—

In the crowd, Bai Xi watched everything in bewilderment.

Sam went crazy under everyone's gaze. He screamed at the empty darkness and stumbled back, scared out of his wits.

Chills went down everyone's spines. Outside the illuminated area, the darkness surged. The dark melody was like the tragic song of a demon in hell, calling for death.

"It's Anta, it's brother Anta!" A thug with a bow in his hands looked around, his eyes filled with fear. "He's back! He's back for revenge!"

Sandro gaped at his boss' hysterical reaction. He moved to stop him, but as soon as he touched his shoulder, the Pyramid King screamed.

He spun around and aimed the bow at Sandro's head. "Go die!" The Pyramid King's eyes were blood red. "Die!"

Sandro froze, "Boss, I…"

Crack! His head exploded and he fell.

Amidst the spray of blood, the Pyramid King stood atop of the corpse, bellowing with laughter. With his face covered in blood, he continued kicking the body. "Dead, he's dead! Haha, Anta, you died again! You died again. If I can kill you once, I can kill you again!" Stepping on Sandro's corpse, he shot arrow after arrow. The hysterical laughter did not fade until Sandro became a porcupine.

Finally, his reason won against his fear. He woke from his daze and touched the blood on his face, not knowing what had just happened. "Sandro? Sandro?!" The Pyramid King called his underling's name, not knowing that he had just shot his most trusted man's head open.

Everyone stared at him in horror, stepping back as if watching a lunatic.

In the silence, the Pyramid King seemed to understand. He screamed, "Get the f*ck out of here!" He stared at the crowd with dead and dark eyes, trying to see which face hid the demon. He continued screaming, "Get out of here! I'm going to kill you, you son of a b*tch!"

"D-dark musician!" someone in the crowd yelped. "Run, that guy is a dark musician!" Dark musician! In an instant, everyone was suddenly "enlightened," having realized the true nature of the monster, and the fear came soon after.

Yes, only a creature like a dark musician could manipulate such an eerie melody, play with a man's mind so easily, and turn someone into a lunatic. All dark musicians were either wanted by secret authorities for exploring forbidden areas, or joined Satan, aiding in natural catastrophes. No matter what, dark musicians were synonymous with fear and monsters. No matter what, they had so much blood on their hands! Just like the Rain Artist who had given his hometown to Satan without hesitation, these things were monsters unable to be measured by morals or common knowledge. An indescribable panic radiated from everyone with the murmurs and whispers.

—

"Dark musician?" Ye Qingxuan's expression changed in the darkness, "Am I really like that?" He was troubled. All he had done was make a plan. First, he had learned of the Pyramid King's past from multiple people, getting the information he needed. Then by attacking Kruger, he was able to make the Pyramid King angry. Then he guided the man to discover the tombstone he had prepared, instilling fear. Finally, Sandro uttered the name "Anta" in panic, successfully touching on the deepest fear in the Pyramid King's heart. Thus, the Pyramid King was submerged in his nightmare since the beginning. Black Friday had just been the bait. It weakened his guard, leading him to hallucinate on his own until he lost all control. The process was just much more successful than Ye Qingxuan had anticipated.

When Ye Qingxuan first hatched the plan, he had thought it would be difficult, but had never expected for the whole thing to be so…natural? It seemed logical, as if fear was supposed to be pulled out like that. It was so easy. How many sins must one commit for their heart to be filled with so much poison? A poisonous snake would kill itself in the end. Forgotten dark pasts would remain in one's heart, trapped in the body like a ghost haunting the soul. One day, they would have to face their sins and pay for it all.

Ye Qingxuan had no pity. They should have known that this day would come; the day they started down their evil path!

—

"Come out! Out!" The Pyramid King was still yelling hysterically under the torchlight. "You're here…I know you're here!" He pulled something out, his eyes becoming cruel, "I'm going to count to three. If you still don't come out, then you'll be sorry." The object in his hands shone coldly under the moon. It was a mirror. But a menacing face was carved on the back of the mirror. It was covered with scales, and the hair was made of writhing snakes. The lively forked tongues moved—the Mirror of Medusa!

In the crowd, Bai Xi recognized the item and her heart skipped a beat. It was alchemy equipment from the School of Summoning. The Summoning musician could release the demon sealed in the mirror through "Song of the Exiled." After the seal was broken, the reflection of Medusa would be summoned. This was rare equipment that could be used without any musical skills. The only requirement was to fulfill Medusa's thirst for blood.

Medusa was also known as the "spirit of vengeance." The moment she was summoned, she would exact revenge on anyone who had hurt the summoner. Even if it was just a melody to awaken the darkness inside his heart. It was not the worst in terms of destruction. This reflection of Medusa could only attack with its snake hair, and was not much for a third level musician, but it was infamous for its resilience. It was extremely difficult to win against it. If one made eye contact with it, they were sure to suffer the Stone Curse. This infamous curse would turn a man into stone, and they could not be turned back. Only a few music scores could protect against the curse, and most musicians were terrified of it, not to mention Ye Qingxuan, who had been a student up until a few days ago.

—

Bai Xi furrowed her brows, trying to think of a solution, but before she could think of anything, a desolate melody spread from the ancient mirror. Desolation filled the melody, resounding under the moon. It was the melody carved into the mirror—Song of the Exiled!

Reflecting the moonlight, a shadow flew from the mirror. It dove into the corpse on the ground, eating its fill. In an instant, the corpse turned to blood. Medusa's reflection appeared slowly. Her snake hair danced. The venom on her teeth dripped onto the ground, sizzling.

"Go," Sam growled, "find the musician."

The summoned demon gazed around, studying each face before her. Her vertical pupils were filled with cruelty. She sniffed each breath in the air. Sensing the ripple of aether until she finally found a trace.

In the darkness, Ye Qingxuan could feel the coldness closing in. The Jiu Xiao Huan Pei vibrated in his hands, warning him of approaching danger. He focused, preparing to fight back.

Beside the Pyramid King, Medusa's red eyes brightened and she hissed. Using a beastly sense of smell and her sense of aether, she found the direction of the enemy. The snakes danced crazily. The glow of the Stone Curse lit up.

"There's no way this time," Bai Xi sighed in the crowd. "Cousin, you're really going to get me killed this time…" she murmured. "I just came for the show. Why do I have to do this for you? And for a pretty girl like me, shouldn't everything be solved by using my beauty?"

Murmuring something, Bai Xi stepped forward, out of the crowd. Under the dancing flames and everyone's eyes, she took off her mask. Bai Xi revealed her delicate face.

Sam spun around. Seeing her, confusion flashed through his eyes.

"Oh, good evening, my friend." The girl raised an arm. The silver bracelet around her wrist tinkled like a chime. Every movement created a crisp sound. Ding

"Who are you?" Sam roared, raising the bow in his hand.

"I'm a messenger of justice, just passing by," Bai Xi stated, raising both hands. She had put on black gloves at some point. Fingers clasped, drum beats echoed faintly in the air. Faced with the bow aimed at her, the girl raised her arms obediently.

"Don't kill me, I surrender…" She paused, grinning, "Just kidding!" And so thunder boomed!

As the girl clasped her fingers, the black gloves pulled tight. Instantly, deafening drum beats burst in the air like frantic thunder. The explosion tugged at everyone's hearts, turning into an irresistible rhythm. The bells on Bai Xi's wrists shook, the broken yet crisp sounds joined together into the whistle of furious winds.

In an instant, there was thunder and wind, transforming into a melody with the rhythm. There was no overture, no buildup, and it surged from all directions without any warning. It was powerful like a thousand war stallions charging forward, majestic like a royal procession. The mousy girl seemed to have suddenly stepped before the throne. Her eyes were arrogant yet stern. Her expression was no longer playful but…pompous! School of Modifications: Pomp and Circumstance March, Movement One!

The preparations and guidance of countless musicians were needed to reach the climax. But without warning, the climax came, along with the brute strength known as 'Zhaodang.' Like a coronation, it was grave yet majestic, and destroyed all attempts at resistance!

For a second, terrifying light shone from the girl's eyes. This piece composed by Saint Elgar symbolized the coronation of King Arthur when he first established the kingdom. Working as the messenger of God, the Pope placed a halo over Arthur's head, representing that he had become an apostle and controlled divine power to rid the world of all evil. All musicians who performed this piece would receive the halo, temporarily having this divine power.

This symbol was the halo above the girl's head. It radiated thunder and electricity, feeding her with unimaginable strength. Even if it was a rushed performance, she possessed an inhuman strength by using her talent to forcefully perform this melody from another level.

"K-kill her!" the Pyramid King screamed, but it was too late. Bai Xi disappeared in the blink of an eye. There was a footprint carved into the stone where she had stood, terrifying cracks snaked forward. Amidst the majestic performance, the girl rushed forward with electric light and furious winds, instantly upending the Pyramid King's guards. Their bodies were lost in the storm, burnt to crisp by the lightning, becoming a bloody mess. The halo flashed, dimming a bit. Bai Xi charged again.

Just as the Pyramid King yelped, Medusa shrieked. She appeared out of thin air, gnashing her teeth at the girl. Her snake hair danced, bloody light exuded from the snakes' eyes, illuminating Bai Xi's face. The glow of the Stone Curse dissipated when it came in contact with the halo around Bai Xi. Divine power was able to evaporate any demonic curse. But it was clear that the halo dimmed, and it began to burn up faster—there was not much time left.

When Medusa opened her mouth, Bai Xi snapped, "Move!" Clenching her right fist, thundering chimes sounded. A faint vortex appeared above her fist. The air constricted and it sounded like glass shattering.

Boom! The virtual reflection of Medusa flew back from her punch. Her body shimmered and the snakes expanded, then exploded and spewed blood. The blood that had been sucked from the corpse a moment ago was forced out!

The drum beats and chiming jangled messily. The halo above Bai Xi's head flickered like a candle in the wind, but the girl did not care. She used this chance to raise her hand and reach out toward the Pyramid King. He collapsed in an instant, cradling his head and screaming in fear. But the hand did not burn him to crisp. Instead, it grasped the mirror in his hands.

The music of Zhaodang resounding in Bai Xi's body surged into the mirror like a tidal wave. The halo exploded into blinding light as if reflected tenfold. The Pomp and Circumstance March had finally reached the true climax. The runes on the mirror flashed and flickered. As if meeting a natural predator, they began extinguishing one by one. It was not because of outside pressure, but rather because the aether structure changed wildly due to having been enveloped by Zhaodang. It became extremely unstable. The last surge of aether extinguished more than half of the runes on the mirror. In the air, Medusa, who had been grasping for the girl, suddenly shimmered. She could only growl angrily before vanishing.

With the mirror in hand, Bai Xi walked forward again. Clenching her fist, she brought it down on the Pyramid King, but her fist trembled in midair. The halo above her head burst and extinguished. The divine power aiding her disappeared. She went from the apostle of divine power to a little girl, weak and powerless. Her fist landed and she yelped in pain. Her punch had hit the raised groove of the bow. A wound opened, and blood flowed from the back of her hand.

Sam gaped, not having processed everything. But he subconsciously raised the bow again, aiming at the girl before him, "Don't move!"

Bai Xi's face was pale, and she pouted and raised her arms helplessly, "I surrender. I'll surrender half, alright?"

The Pyramid King studied how weak she looked with his small eyes. His fearful expression had not even disappeared fully before it was replaced by a sinister smile. It looked comical, "Hehe, so you're…his accomplice?" Seeming to understand something, he climbed up. Pulling on the girl's hair, he pushed her to the ground. Cackling, he aimed the bow at her forehead. "He couldn't deal with Medusa, so he sent you to die? What other tricks do you have? Reveal them to me!"

The already fearful thugs had run when Pomp and Circumstance had played. The new members did not have any loyalty to the Pyramid Scheme. All that remained was his best men. Seeing Bai Xi weakened, they unsheathed their swords and approached.

"I didn't expect him to need help. Seems like he isn't as strong as I thought." The Pyramid King had recovered from his fear. Looking around, he roared at the darkness, "I'm going to say this one last time. Come out! Or else I'll kill her!"

"Just give up," Bai Xi sighed. "I'm just a passerby. I don't know that guy."

"It doesn't matter. With you here, he'd be scared to kill the wrong person. He can't attack me anymore." The Pyramid King grabbed the girl's hair, pinching at her cheeks, leering at her, "What a good little girl. It'll be a pity if you die. I can't promise what will happen if he doesn't come out."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a hoarse voice rang from the darkness.

"Shut up and show yourself!" Sam swept his sharp gaze around.

A sigh came from the writhing darkness, "Then, as you wish…"

—

Deathly pale moonlight shone suddenly, lighting up the cemetery full of grief and darkness. The light fell on the broken gravestones, as if they were lit with light from Hell. In the suffocating stillness, creaks sounded, like the gate of Hell had opened slowly. Rotting dirt turned, as if the dead buried six feet under were awakening, pushing at their tomb so they could bathe in the moonlight.

As the dirt turned, a coffin slowly opened, and a thin figure rose from the rotting earth. Welcomed by everyone's fearful eyes and weapons, the figure walked out casually. He had just walked out of a coffin, but he was dressed finely in a beastly robe. The scales on his shoulder reflected the white moonlight. Holding a black cane and wearing a rotting hat from the coffin, he looked as if he were attending a banquet—a banquet for demons! His silhouette was thin yet sharp like the contour made of steel wires. The face hidden in the shadows of the hat was unclear, but a vague smile was visible. It was all so odd.

Everyone was taken aback. No one had expected for the terrifying thing to be hidden beneath their feet. It was impossible to discern…whether this figure was alive or dead. Even a musician was a human. Unless he had mutated himself, how could he live for so long in a rotting coffin?

"Greetings, Your Majesty the Pyramid King," the polite voice sounded from under the hat. The voice carried the grace that all elites strived for. It was full of dignity and made him seem unapproachable, separate from the others. But no one noticed as he sneakily threw an underground respirator into the darkness. If not for that, he really would have suffocated.

He had planned on hiding in the coffin and waiting until the Pyramid King had completely broken before interrogating him, but he did not expect the man to have such powerful alchemy equipment. Nor did he think that Bai Xi would be here because she cared for him. Plans never accounted for all possibilities. He was used to this. The best solution was to keep his image as a dark musician and terrify them.

Seeing him, fear flashed through the Pyramid King's eyes, but quickly, it was replaced by ferocity, "You dare to come out?"

"Why not?" Ye Qingxuan laughed lightly, "Didn't I come tonight to fulfill my promise? But sadly, our game went astray and the entertainment disappeared early on." He emphasized 'entertainment,' revealing his regret.

The hoarse voice did not seem to fit the youth, and felt like the low voice of the dead. The thugs trembled with fear. This figure that seemed like a gentleman had the aura of something monstrous.

"Stop talking about useless sh*t!" Furious, the Pyramid King swung his bow, aiming the arrow toward Ye Qingxuan. "Did those gay Lucos hire you? Or do the Indians want revenge? Or is it that son of a b*tch Professor, or that old Shaman?!"

"I'm sorry, but none of them." Ye Qingxuan shrugged and strode over. With his cane propped on his shoulder, he looked like an energetic youth going shopping. He seemed oblivious to all of the arrows that could kill him in seconds. He simply gazed around at the view, "I came for myself. Your Majesty, I only came for some answers."

"F*ck answers!" The Pyramid King suddenly pressed the arrow against the girl's face. "Kneel or I'm going to put a hole in her head!" He was not planning on making the monster surrender by just using this girl, but there was something between him and the monster, and with her in his hands, the monster would not dare to take a risk. The Pyramid King just wanted the monster to be shaken up. Even just a little bit would give him a chance.

The Pyramid King's hand twitched behind his back. The small movement was a command. Behind the youth, a shadow crept forward soundlessly. He pulled the dark green dagger out a little. This was the Pyramid King's best assassin, a hitman hired with a fortune. The assassin had come from faraway Persia. He had taken medicine since childhood to make his bones strong but light. His body was as soft as cotton, but his inhumane training had made him impossibly strong. He could easily kill a tiger in the darkness.

With someone like him, the Pyramid King had no worries, of course. He never had to fear powerful enemies. He only had to worry about people who used dirty tricks like him. What was a dark musician to him? As long as the musician was distracted and his spirit shaken, he could die just as easily from a blade to the heart.

But contrary to his expectations, the shadowy gentleman laughed coldly. He did not even glance at the girl. The cold eyes under the shadow of the hat looked at Sam as if looking at an insect. There was a nuance of pity.

"I told you, it's best if you don't do that." Ye Qingxuan stumped the cane slightly, and a vague strumming sounded in the air. A cacophony of piercing noise followed the pounding of the cane against the ground. The sharpness pierced through everyone's eardrums, making their vision blur.

But the man behind Ye Qingxuan, who had crept over soundlessly and pulled out his blade, started shaking. It was as if his organs suddenly started tearing. His muscles jumped, trying to leave his body, and his veins writhed. The hallucinatory pain attacked without warning. He fell to the ground, shaking and crying out in pain.

The man curled into a ball in pain, not even knowing that he had sliced himself with his own dagger. As he shook, his joints rubbed against each other. His bones had started to lock up.

The man had wanted to make a sneak attack, but he did not know that with Jiu Xiao Huan Pei, the surrounding aether acted as Ye Qingxuan's eyes when he was on guard. The theory of three hundred and sixty degree vision had confused Ye Qingxuan for a long time. He still was not used to it. The legends of how a musician's power would multiply with a good instrument was no lie.

Sensing that someone was approaching, Ye Qingxuan quickly moved his tired mind and performed the third measure of Black Friday. He controlled the assassin's senses, inflicting the burning hallucinatory pain on him!

In the end, the man shrunk to the size of a dwarf, and continued to writhe with difficulty. Veins pulsed on his face like a living organism. He stared up at the Pyramid King in despair. His mouth opened but he could not speak, only making high-pitched gibberish. Chills ran down everyone's spines. They finally understood what had happened to Kruger.

"Kill him, kill him!" Sam shrieked. His men tried to shoot, but they realized that they could not move their fingers no matter what.

Sam's shrieking broke off, his voice caught in his throat. His body was no longer under his control. The dark melody rushed in like a river. It dug into their limbs, flowing through their mind, taking away all reason. And then it brought hellish pain.

Under the shadow of the hat, veins bulged painfully on the youth's face. The extreme performance was pushing his limits. The melody that was meant to be used on one person had been expanded to influence a dozen people. It was just to provoke their negative feelings, but it had surpassed his abilities. Thankfully he was prepared.

Behind his back, Ye Qingxuan pressed the button on the Double Snake Time Meter. He chanted, "All is dark. Only the Tree of Life is forever green." Instantly, a crisp rhythm sounded in his ear, lifting up his dazed mind, erasing the fatigue and pain. He became more in tune with his spirit than before. The sensitivity of his perception suddenly doubled, making him feel as if he had expanded. The three hundred and sixty degree vision freed him from his body. He rose into the air and looked down at the thugs drowning in pain.

The difficult performance had changed too. Now it was as easy as rowing a boat along with the current of the water. With doubled sense and manipulation, Ye Qingxuan's power soared to the limit of the Rhythm level. Guided by the melody, the aether transformed into nonexistent fire and blades, putting his enemies through hellish pain.

—

Ye Qingxuan was only able to continue this all-powerful hallucination for a few seconds. but these short seconds felt like an eternity to the Pyramid King. The unprecedented pain pushed him to the brink of sanity. When the melody suddenly ended, he screamed as if waking from a nightmare and stumbled back. The girl in his arms had had enough. Jumping up, she slammed an elbow into him and stole the bow, aiming at his forehead. She kicked his crotch angrily, causing his eyes to bulge, and he rolled on the ground in pain.

"That's for grabbing my hair! That's for pinching my cheeks!" Venting her anger, Bai Xi kicked him and prodded his forehead before retreating behind Ye Qingxuan. Close up, she could see the veins at the corner of Ye Qingxuan's eyes and his trembling hands. Panic flashed through her eyes. She wanted to say something, but then saw his glance. Understanding his plan, she did not reveal any panic.

"I surrender…" Sam, panting on the ground, lifted his head and glared at Ye Qingxuan. "Do whatever you want to me. But don't think I'll just obediently wait for death. My men will avenge my death, even if you kill me. You won't be able to leave here unscathed."

"Oh, really?" Looking down at him, Ye Qingxuan laughed lightly. He taunted, "Your Majesty, why are you asking for death so impatiently? Didn't I say before that I'm just here for some answers? If you answer me truthfully, I might let you live. Of course, if you don't cooperate, I won't let you die either. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Sam's expression changed. He understood Ye Qingxuan: if he was not willing to cooperate, he would experience something more painful than death. He believed this completely. After all, he had just experienced hellish torture.

"Do you swear?" Sam studied the shadow suspiciously. He was terrified, but he still had to grasp the last lifeline. "You want to know? I can tell you everything I know."

"You surrender as soon as you hear that you can live?" The shadow scoffed, "As expected of the Pyramid Scheme."

The Pyramid King's expression was shameless, as if it was how things ought to be, "As if you'd let me go if I was brave?"

The shadow laughed but did not reply. He asked, "I heard that there was a big commotion in downtown a few days ago. To be honest, I want more details. Would you like to tell me?"

"You're here for the white-haired kid too?" The Pyramid King seemed to suddenly see the light. "You're here for the Blood Path too!"

"You're the one answering me. Don't get it wrong." Ye Qingxuan's voice turned icy.

Though he did not get a reply, the Pyramid King was sure. What would make a dark musician ignore the authorities searching for him and come to Anglo's capitol, other than King Arthur's hidden treasures?!

"My friend, have you decided?" The shadow looked at his pocket watch impatiently, "My time is precious. Don't waste it." With that, he moved to start the melody.

"Wait, wait! I'll talk!" The Pyramid King opened his mouth and spilled the beans on everything he knew. "Ten days ago, we heard a rumor. Avalon's Shadow, which hid King Arthur's hidden treasures, is going to wake. The Blood Path leading to it will be activated soon. Some said that the key to activating the path is on the white-haired kid."

Ye Qingxuan scoffed, "You believe this?"

"To be honest, we don't believe in Avalon's Shadow. The rumor is strange. The first who spoke of it was the Professor. He wanted to have the kid all to himself and wouldn't let anyone interfere. The Indians seemed to have concrete information from somewhere. They were willing to anger the Professor just to get the kid. The Lucos and Asgardians were just taking advantage of things…"

"And what about you?"

"We just do dirty work for the elites. We don't care about the Blood Path. Really!" the Pyramid King explained hurriedly. "But they seem to really care about this news and ordered us to make things messy. Another family also offered a reward to capture the kid.

"The kid wants to kill their heir. They couldn't influence the academy, so they offered one-hundred thousand pounds to kill the kid in the most painful way…"

For an instant, like an illusion, Sam thought the shadow grew darker.

"Which family?" the shadow asked coldly.

Body trembling, the Pyramid King answered loudly, "Rossi, it's the Rossi family!"

Ye Qingxuan fell silent, his eyes grew cold. It was Edmund.

Ye Qingxuan was furious. He did not care about being the key to Avalon's Shadow now, only the fact that the Rossis had tried to hurt him and were now trying to kill him was enough to harden his eyes. It seemed that they wanted to force him into a dead end. But he did not remain silent for too long. He asked, "Then what about the Butcher?"

There was an undertone of anger in his voice, causing the Pyramid King to misunderstand. He quickly shouted, "That's the Professor's fault! I swear, it has nothing to do with me. I just wanted the Eastern kid's body, but that *ss hired the Butcher and escalated everything. It was ruined for everyone!"

"Oh? Professor…" Testing the name out, Ye Qingxuan could not help but remember the beast that had terrorized him that day, and the robed shadow beside it. He was a musician too. He quickly thought of all connections but there was still something important lost in the fog. He could not connect it all together.

"If you want to find the Blood Path, you should hurry…" The Pyramid King's voice seemed to be happy at his misfortune, "We received news yesterday that the Shaman is back. He hates dark musicians. Once he gets into power, everyone who breaks the rules will be hung or drowned in the quagmire. It'll be impossible for you to work downtown." The Pyramid King paused. When he mentioned the name, fear flashed through his eyes, "Everyone is starting to panic now."

"You're all so scared of him?" the dark shadow asked tauntingly.

"You don't understand. You're not from here, you don't understand." The Pyramid King was bitter, "The Shaman is not just a legend. He was an entire era of downtown, do you understand? He was the Dark King back then…

"When he was the most powerful, he controlled half of Anglo's Dark World through Avalon's downtown. Everyone dreamed of kneeling before him to kiss his ring and pledge loyalty to him.

"The elites couldn't control him, and the police were all loyal to him. The Royalty had to ask him if they could wear silk pajamas. He was the king of Anglo in the shadows! Some say that he had even met the Pope… If he didn't go missing, all of downtown would probably be his now." His eyes flashed with discontent, "To him, we're just rats eating his leftovers. Even if times have changed, all he needs to do is clap and many will want to follow him. If he really is back, we have to kill him before he can control everything…"

"Didn't he run after being persecuted by the Royal Musicians?"

"Royal Musicians? They used to be his partners! How could the Royal Musicians live so lavishly without that man's money?!"

Ye Qingxuan did not reply. He had never imagined the Shaman to be so powerful. He was just lucky that the legendary Dark King was still trying to get his own power back and was not focused on King Arthur's hidden treasure yet.

"Last question." Ye Qingxuan looked at him, "Do you know who 'old guy' is?"

"Old guy?" The Pyramid King tried not to laugh. "Are you kidding me? There are thousands with that nickname in downtown. How do I know who you're talking about?!"

"Really? That's a pity." Regret flashed past Ye Qingxuan's eyes as he looked away, "You can go now." Turning, he waved his hand, "I've lost interest in you."

The Pyramid King froze in disbelief, followed by ecstasy. He had not expected the man to really hold his promise. He could live now. But why did he feel so humiliated? He could feel the shadow's eyes glancing at him for the last time. The gaze was cold, full of disdain and pity. It was as if the man was looking at a fly, a bug or some other insignificant thing. Was he just a rat the man could kill depending on his mood?! As if his life was so useless that he did not want to take it.

"You'll regret it!" Sam screamed in his mind. "You will regret it…" Crawling back, he pushed himself up and prepared to leave cautiously, but when he stepped out of the cemetery, he looked back again. The eerie shadow was standing under the ghastly moonlight, looking down at a tombstone. He seemed to have become one with the cemetery's darkness. The moonlight cast a sharp shadow behind him, like a beast dancing menacingly.

The Pyramid King looked at the shadow and hesitated. Hate flashed past his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by fear. He gave up on a sneak attack. "You…who are you?!" he yelled. "Tell me your name! I want to know your name!"

Hearing his voice, the shadow in the darkness turned around, looking at him coldly. His dark eyes sent chills down the Pyramid King's spine. They was arrogant and cold, like checking if the rat had the right to ask for his name. Silence.

The Pyramid King's face reddened and he turned in anger. But then he heard a voice behind him.

"You can call me Sherlock," In the darkness, the youth was actually racking his brain for a name. When he looked down at the tombstone beside him, his eyes lit up and reported the name on the stone. He said, "My name is Sherlock Holmes."

—

Ye Qingxuan finally could not take it anymore. After the Pyramid King left, he collapsed next to the tombstone, gasping for breath. If the Pyramid King had left a few minutes too late, he really would have collapsed. Skipping levels and activating the dark melody had pushed him past his limits.

Beside him, Bai Xi scrambled to hand him a tube of green medicine. It was high quality recovery medicine. Ye Qingxuan did not have the energy to ask where she got it from. Taking it, he tipped his head and downed the medicine. After panting for a long time, he finally felt his mind recover.

After he was back to normal, Bai Xi began to fidget. She tried to escape, but a hand pressed down on her shoulder, "Good evening, little friend. Do you want to play a game with Uncle?" Ye Qingxuan asked in a weird voice, "I have a lot of fun games here…"

Bai Xi suddenly felt a chill. "You…leave me alone!"

"What, you're scared now?" Ye Qingxuan asked, "Then why are you out here in the middle of the night?"

"I-I'm not Bai Xi!" The girl covered her face, "You got the wrong person. I'm John! Uh, John Watson…"

"Wow, you think of names pretty quickly." Ye Qingxuan snickered, "Do you want to add a middle name? Like 'H' or something?"

"Names are created by parents. You can't just change it."

"Ha." Ye Qingxuan squeezed her cheeks, "Try to make up something better."

"I'm sorry! Cousin, I'm sorry! I just wanted to help…" Seeing Baixi suddenly become obedient, with her hands clasped together and lashes batting, Ye Qingxuan could not be angry anymore. He sighed and reached out, "Hand it over."

"What? Hand what over?" Bai Xi looked at him confusedly, "What are you talking about?"

"Really?" Ye Qingxuan scoffed. He reached into her pocket and pulled out a palm-sized leather notebook. Shaking it before her, he said, "You have guts. You couldn't forget your old job even with an arrow to the head. Didn't you promise to stop stealing?"

"This is called fighting fire with fire! It's his fault!" Guilty, Bai Xi looked away. She whistled, her face full of innocence. "I just reached over…and it came out."

Ye Qingxuan shook his head, unable to do anything with her. He opened the book and studied the numbers. Thinking of something, his eyes became serious and he read through carefully.

Old Phil returned soundlessly. The giant golden dog sniffed at the blood. He wandered around the cemetery as if it was a store, stepping over the corpses gracefully. His eyes lit up. He lowered its head and picked something up in its mouth. Trotting over, he put the thing at Bai Xi's feet. He had gracefully and selflessly given this thing to his top student, Bai Xi.

Gaping, Bai Xi bent down and picked up the bloody mirror. Flipping it over, she saw the carving of Medusa, and her eyes brightened. It was the Mirror of Medusa!

Seeing that Ye Qingxuan was focused on the notebook, she put a finger to her lips, shushing Old Phil. And then she sneakily put the mirror into her pocket.

She was just going to take a little thing. Her cousin would not mind…hopefully.

—

Ye Qingxuan flipped through the notebook quickly. He had a general impression of the content and stuffed it into his pocket. If the content was what he thought it was, he would have to think and plan carefully.

Just as he pulled Bai Xi's hand, getting ready to leave, he heard a moan from the unconscious man in the ditch nearby. The man seemed to have fallen into a nightmare, writhing painfully.

Ye Qingxuan remembered him. His name was Hudson, and he had wanted to leave this dark world, but had been captured by the Pyramid King. It was surprising that he was still alive, but he was still close to dying.

Thinking for a bit, Ye Qingxuan halted. He pressed his cane against Hudson's chest and the music of flowing water sounded—Rune Flow. Using Jiu Xiao Huan Pei, Ye Qingxuan stimulated the blood in Hudson's heart, pulling him back from the nightmare.

With the nightmare gone, Hudson woke with a cry. Opening his eyes, he looked at the ruins. When he saw Ye Qingxuan's shadow, he seemed to understand something, "Am I…dead?"

"You're still alive," Ye Qingxuan said lightly.

"Did you save me?"

"You survived because of your own luck. I just gave you hand. Since you're still conscious, go find a doctor before you really die."

Hudson fell silent. He forced a bitter smile onto his bloody face, "Maybe it's better for people like me to die. Even if I live, where can I go?" He sighed hopelessly, "I ran far away to start a new life, but I was still dragged back. On the way here, I realized that the day I jumped into the swamp, I would never be clean again. I've sinned so many times. I have to pay for them some day."

"Then live on and use the rest of your days to repent for what you've done."

"Will I be saved if I repent?" Hudson asked, his voice full of hope.

"No," The youth shook his head. Studying the bloody cane, his voice was hoarse and cold, "You will live on full of guilt. You will live in this darkness until death. But you can at least try to be a good person." With that, Ye Qingxuan turned to leave.

Stunned, Hudson fell silent. Watching the shadow leave, he wanted to cry. He felt as if he had just been saved. "That's wonderful…" He knelt down onto the bloody dirt, seeing the shadow off, "Sir, thank you."

The shadow in the distance halted, turning around. He finally looked away after a long moment, "And thank you too," he murmured. This was the most beautiful sentence Ye Qingxuan had heard over the past few days.

"What happened?" Bai Xi asked quietly. "Why are you suddenly so happy?"

"There was a question I've been asking myself these days, but now I realize that the answer had always been in my heart." Ye Qingxuan smiled in the darkness, satisfied and freed, "It's not meaningless to be a good person."

The Royal Academy of Music had continued the tradition of having one public lecture per week for centuries. Every student could attend, regardless of major, school, or year. Sometimes, famous musicians or scholars would hold lectures to share their research or explorations with students, but nobody had put much effort into their lectures over recent years. It had become an empty tradition.

The professors wanted to keep their findings exclusive, and only shared things that everyone already knew. Now, the public lectures were just a group of important people coming to move their lips. Other than textbook material that everyone knew, they would also say useless things like "work hard!" and "don't give up!"

As expected, fewer students came every year. Now, it became a blow-off class for students who had cut class and needed extra points. But today, the classroom was no longer empty. Instead, it was filled to the max. In the crowded classroom, there were even students sitting in the aisles. But no one in the crowd spoke. It was silent except for the gentle voice from the podium.

—

The academy had always upheld a strict etiquette system to produce students with the mannerisms of an elite. The etiquette system touched upon things like sitting posture, and was enforced throughout the Academy. The crazy dogs of the student council executive office made sure that the system was followed to a T.

Every lecturer would stand behind the podium. Even a saint had to be polite and spirited, unable to show any weakness or laziness, but today, there was a chair behind the podium. A girl sat on the walnut chair, her feet hidden under her dress. The dress that rested on the ground was spotless. She looked nothing like a famous history scholar or renowned explorer. Instead, she looked like an eighteen year old girl—Lola Caput.

Her skin was pale, as if she had a chronic illness, but her hair was golden and her long locks fell past her delicate neck to her chest. It looked like a beam of sunlight falling on plain brocade.

She leaned back in the chair, explaining the content of her lecture in a gentle voice. Sometimes, she would get excited and start coughing. When her servant offered her medicine, she would refuse. After catching her breath, she would begin lecturing again.

The students were silent. Everyone focused on her. Even if they whispered, they tried to be quiet, not wanting to interrupt her. They could not help but look into her eyes.

Most who could enter the Royal Academy of Music were the best of the best. They had seen much of the world. They were bored of elite ladies' caked makeup and had seen enough of weak girls who needed to be protected, but they had never seen a pair of eyes like these. They were like an emeralds in a mirror. They were filled with refined beauty when still, and when they moved, they shone an intoxicating light. They were close yet unreachable.

Nine years ago, an elite girl from a fallen family had been physically weak since childhood and had become a musician. She began researching the Dark Age, becoming a researcher of the Dark Age history.

In the beginning, everyone who heard this thought it was a joke. It was clear that this girl had a disadvantage compared to the exploration musicians who could enter deep into the Dark World. Her weak physique could not survive the harsh conditions of explorations. She also could not enter archeologist sites to search for ancient texts and evidence. All she could do was organize and decipher the texts that had been discovered. Everybody knew that research of the languages from the Dark Age had not progressed in the last three hundred years.

"Was she sitting at home, waiting for research results to fall from the sky?" some people asked. But quickly, the mockery and doubts shattered after she successfully deciphered the first chapter of Voynich's Manuscript. Numerous scholars had been defeated by this manuscript; countless people spent their entire lives trying to decode it to no avail, but it was deciphered by a frail and sickly girl. The scholars who had doubted Lola's ability were slapped in the face by reality. Many quit their research in humiliation and anger.

After deciphering the first chapter of Voynich's Manuscript, she found the foreword of the Emerald Tablet, a legendary alchemy manuscript that had been sealed for centuries, and filled in the missing parts of the Baidi Yinfujing. Over the next few years, this girl, who rarely ventured outside, would create a storm in the academic world every now and then with her findings.

Five years ago, she accepted the title of Honorary Professor from Principle Maxwell. Every now and then, she would choose a day to hold a public lecture. Every time, the lecture hall would be packed. Within the last five years, more and more students decided to explore the Dark World after graduation. Miss Lola's influence was undeniable. But this time, the woman did not lecture about material that was way above their level. Instead, she followed the suggestions of some professors and decided to fill these impetuous and impatient students in on the basics.

—

"When the Dark Age ended, the original Three Kings established an entirely new musician system on top of the School of Classics. They divided musicians into three levels: Musician level, Resonance level and Scepter level. These three levels could be further divided into nine sub-levels. This is the nine levels of musicians that we now know.

"For everyone present, the most important is undoubtedly the Musician level. After your initial learning and research, I'm sure you can all successfully enter the Rhythm level in a few years.

"From here, your basic knowledge will enter a professional level. All students must choose the School that suits you best. This is the most important choice a musician will make in his life. Of course, the Royal Academy of Music had already chosen the field for you based on your natural skills. All you have to do is follow the course." At the podium, Miss Lola pursed her lips ever so slightly, as if disagreeing with this method of teaching. But she hid it well, smiling gently.

Pausing, she waved a hand and a tree diagram appeared on the blackboard behind her. Below the same foundation, seven branches reached in different directions. Sometimes, they would combine or overlap. Other times, they were like parallel lines, staying far away from each other. "Today, I will lecture about the seven major schools of musicians."

Lola said, "The so-called seven major schools is a classification system suggested by the third pope. They represent directions of research. Through the years, musicians have added and revised the school, forming seven different paths and fields.

"They are the ones we know today: Modifications, Summoning, Choir, Revelations, Illusions, Mind and Abstinence. You may think that there's nothing to this, right?

"Even an idiot knows this, right? Musicians from the School of Modifications can cast electricity and frost, Summoning can control demons and beasts, and Choir can heal like a doctor. Revelations are eccentric. They can predict dangers and avoid trouble. Illusions musicians can manipulate illusions, and the School of Mind can control the mind…The School of Abstinence can restrain the previous six schools, but it's hard to truly become an expert and has many flaws.

"There is another School that combines two or even three schools, producing unimaginable power…You have all heard of this before and don't need anyone to repeat it. So today, I want to tell you something deeper." She paused. Her eyes were no longer light, but dark and serious. Now, she was not a girl anymore. Standing before her podium, she was standing in her field of expertise. Expression stern, she was ready to explain the reason behind the phenomenon to these confused students.

"The seven schools all have unique core principles and goals. This is something no musician can get around. A musician only has to consider it after entering the Resonance level, or even the Scepter level. But if you only start thinking about it then, it'll be too late.

"No matter what school it is, in the end, it's all to search for the Originator, but all seven schools have different starting points and direction of research. They are different in performance, function and final goal.

"Here's an example. The School of Modifications uses changes in matter to create effects such as fire, frost and electricity. It has terrifying destructive power. But actually, they research the relationship between the nature of all organisms.

"The School of Summoning explores the nature of demons and catastrophes. That is why they take out a piece of their personality and consciousness to raise beasts and demons. When a musician groups aether, these pieces can come together to form phantom beasts.

"The most common school for the church is the School of Choir. They focus on the source of all life. That is why they are talented in healing. But do not forget that there is a branch of the School of Choir that researches the nature of death. So if you don't want to die from a strange illness or have your organs fail randomly, please do not anger these seemingly harmless 'musician doctors.'

"The School of Revelations works to unveil the future. They are skilled in analyzing, researching, and exploring. They can decipher and read ancient texts and music scores. They are also known as the School of Scholars. Almost all explorers who venture into the Dark World come from this school, including yours truly. The majority of developments in Dark Age research were found by Revelations musicians digging in the ruins.

"The two schools that are feared because of their appearance are… Illusions and Mind…"

—

Here, she slowed down, as if distracted by something in the crowd. Finally, she stopped. Brows furrowing, she looked to the back of the classroom. Her expression changed when she saw the youth who was stuffing his face with food. "That student, yes, the one with white hair…the student who's eating! I'm sorry, but are you listening?"

Ye Qingxuan sat in the very center of the very last row. The only other person in the empty row was Bai Xi, who was asleep beside him.

For some reason, the classroom was jam packed, but no one was willing to sit near Ye Qingxuan. It was understandable in the case of the elites. Most of them had servants save seats for them so they did not have to come early to get a seat, but the commoner students stood to the side and listened quietly. Seeing Ye Qingxuan writing something, they did not come over to bother him. When they passed by, they nodded to greet him, but seemed to be hesitant and scared of getting too close.

"It's probably their teachers," Bai Xi snickered as she rested her head on the table. "The principal isn't here, so all the professors are won over by the school board. All the professors and school board hate us and wish they could just expel us all. They're scared that if someone sees them get too close, they'll get in trouble." She continued, "It's freezing now but they'd rather stand where the draft is, instead of taking a little risk to support those who spoke up for them. These people deserve to be peasants…"

"Bai Xi," Ye Qingxuan knocked the side of her head, "don't say things like that."

"But it's the truth! Did you know that there was a commoner genius a few years back? He was seriously a good person, and did so much for the students that were bullied, but he was forced to leave. The people he had helped just watched him kneel outside the door, crying. Thankfully you're not stupid enough to try to help them achieve something. Otherwise, you'd also get ruined by them."

"Don't overgeneralize. There were a lot of people who protested and quit school to accompany him."

"Maybe there were a few," Bai Xi huffed and went back to sleep. She was exhausted after staying up all night then coming to this lecture with Ye Qingxuan in the morning.

On the other hand, Ye Qingxuan was totally awake. He held the leather notebook Bai Xi had stolen, searching through them carefully. After reading two pages, he started writing on the letterhead at the front.

The letterhead was made of high quality paper. It was a luxury item that costed ten pounds for a quire. He had bought it this morning, and now a stack of paper filled with writing was by Ye Qingxuan's right hand, under the ink well.

Ye Qingxuan had used the most fashionable elite handwriting for the letter. This script came from the sacred city. The priests who wrote in the church script when writing the lingua franca had also preserved a bit of their own handwriting. This style later spread and became a unique script. It was clean and crisp while still solemn, and was therefore favored by the elites.

Ye Qingxuan had spent months practicing this script as a scribe and had been praised by the priest. He had become skilled at it. That was what had made the priest want to train him to be part of the clergy. But now, for some reason, Ye Qingxuan wore a pair of thin gloves when writing. Even his wrists and forearms were covered. Not an inch of skin had touched the paper since he had bought it.

Curious, Bai Xi glanced over, but just one line was enough to make her head spin. He was using purple prose, and the structure of some sort of poem to write about boring content. Graceful yet considerate, he caringly asked about the health of a senior. Then he humbly, but not fawningly, expressed his gratitude toward the other's care. Finally, he mentioned how they had met last month at a banquet and could not bear to part.

From Bai Xi's perspective, it was complete bullsh*t. If someone wrote a letter like that to her, she would definitely find the guy and beat him up.

At the end of the letter, Ye Qingxuan wrote the name that he made up last night: Your loyal friend—Sherlock Holmes.

"What is this?" Curious, Bai Xi reached over to take the letterhead but Ye Qingxuan flicked her finger away, "Don't touch."

Taken aback, Bai Xi retracted her hand sadly.

Ye Qingxuan explained, "You'll leave behind fingerprints and other evidence. It's best to not touch this without wearing gloves."

"What exactly are you doing?" Bai Xi rolled her eyes.

"Writing a letter." Ye Qingxuan shook the notebook at her. "It's for those who need help."

Bai Xi glanced at the book but could not understand anything. It was filled with weird symbols and numbers. "And what is this crazy thing?"

"A code," Ye Qingxuan answered. "More specifically, there are three. The first is a replacement code. The alphabet and word list were switched around according to a specific method and put back together into a new order. The second is a mapping game, and the last uses code words. Deciphering this was fun. It's not that hard." He shrugged, "Compared to ancient texts and music notes, this is nothing."

"What's in it?"

"The records of everything the Pyramid Scheme had done for others," Ye Qingxuan replied. "Sam is tricky. He's scared that he'll get killed for knowing too much, so he has to leave something behind to save himself."

"If he's scared of getting killed, he shouldn't have done it in the first place."

"If you can think of 'in the first place' for everything, then the world wouldn't be so cruel," Ye Qingxuan replied lightly, shrugging his shoulders. He folded the letter, carefully put it in the envelope with a pair of tweezers, and sealed it with glue. Finally, he put the letter and the rest of the letterhead into a small box, and put it back into his bag. He was finally done.

After finishing, he sighed and leaned back in his chair, suddenly becoming drowsy. He had not slept at all since yesterday. Now that he was relaxed, he felt exhausted, but he just could not fall asleep. He was hungry.

The sleeping Bai Xi heard something like thunder beside her. She raised her head in confusion to see Ye Qingxuan sprawled on the desk, looking like death. "What's wrong?"

"I'm hungry," Ye Qingxuan moaned quietly.

Bai Xi gazed at him judgingly before sighing, "Idiot."

Despite her words, she pushed her extra breakfast over. Ye Qingxuan snatched the bag, but his expression fell after he opened it. "Cousin, your breakfast is a bit too greasy."

"Then give it back if you don't want it!"

"I'll eat, I'll eat…" Ye Qingxuan quickly lowered his head and began stuffing his face.

But as he ate, he felt that the atmosphere gradually turned…uncomfortable, as if the entire world stopped. Raising his head, he saw everyone staring at him as if he had just killed a puppy. He did not know when the lecturer had singled him out.

"That student, the student who's eating, yes, that's right, you…"

Ye Qingxuan flinched, sensing something bad happening. Many faces flashed past his eyes, but for some reason, it stopped on his stupid senior.

And so, as everyone watched, he awkwardly put down his breakfast and wiped his mouth. Clearing his throat, he put on a humble yet warm smile, and pulled a drumstick from the bag, and passed it to the front. "Would you like some?" his action said.

In the deadly silence, Lola's facial muscles twitched. She shook her head slowly.

Ye Qingxuan was taken aback. The trick did not work! Did it only work for Charles?

As the crowd fell into extreme awkwardness, some could not help but laugh. Seeing his confused look, Lola's brows furrowed, "Are you paying attention to the lecture?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't eat yesterday and I'm starving now. I'm really sorry." Smiling awkwardly, Ye Qingxuan quickly packed up his breakfast. "I'm actually paying attention though."

"Oh, really?" Lola said. "I've just introduced the School of Illusions and Mind. Why don't you explain these two schools to everyone?"

"Me?" Ye Qingxuan pointed at himself and shook his head shyly, "I don't think I can."

"If you can't, then I'll deduct points," Lola said lightly. "If you can, I'll let you go with breaking the rules and pass this class.

"Oh, then let me think a bit…" Ye Qingxuan let out a breath in relief. After pretending to think, he replied, "The School of Illusions explores the differences between reality and imitation. They've proposed the hypotheses of 'brain in a vat' and 'ship of Theseus.' They advocate exploring the mutual influences between the world and humanity. In the East, this principle is also known as 'heavenly correspondence.'

"The School of Mind explores the source of a man's soul. They are skilled in controlling one's consciousness and feelings, and advocate self-cultivation and training your spirit. This is why these two schools are the birthplace of many philosophers…"

Hearing Ye Qingxuan's mature answer, Lola's expression became a bit gentler. She continued asking, "Then what of the outer appearance of the seven different schools? Try giving some examples."

"The most obvious is the change in personality. Your personality is compatible with your school." Ye Qingxuan thought of what Charles had said before. Schools and musicians were actually a mutual choice. The school was not the deciding factor because all seven schools had an unseen requirement for musicians. If they based the decision solely on performance, most musicians would fit the style of a school.

As Charles had said, most musicians of the School of Modifications were irritable; the School of Choir had two extremes—they were either amazingly happy or terribly gloomy; musicians from Summoning looked like a beast; those from Revelations all believed in fatalism; mind musicians were liked by everyone; illusions musicians were moody; those from Abstinence seemed to all have facial muscle paralysis. They were emotionless, like robots. But one could not be so straightforward when speaking.

Hearing Ye Qingxuan's answer, the upset in Lola's eyes finally lightened a bit. She shook her head, "It seems that your knowledge of this area is not bad. If you know all this, then you must have some thought about choosing a school, correct?"

Ye Qingxuan did not reply for a long time, his expression turning awkward. "To be honest, this… I'm quite busy and haven't thought about it yet…"

Lola furrowed her brow. "What is more important than your future?"

Ye Qingxuan chuckled, but did not reply. Compared to one's future, maybe one's past was more important.

It was a hot afternoon. Everything burned white-hot under the sun. Evaporated water droplets were blown toward Avalon by the lazy ocean breeze, adding to the suffocating humidity. As everyone sweated in the humid climate, the entire city smelled like burnt stew.

But the library of an exquisite mansion uptown was filled with cool air. A steady stream of air conditioning blew in from the pipes, making it possible to be comfortable even in the summer heat. An aged man sat behind the table. He wore a monocle and was entirely focused on cleaning his beloved pipe. Panicked footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door. He looked up, furrowing his brow, to see his old housekeeper push the door open hurriedly.

The housekeeper was drenched in sweat, and he looked shocked. He looked at his master in fear, unable to speak. He panted as if he had run all the way from the gate. He was shaken, as if he had been running for his life, and gripped a letter in his hands.

"M-master Spencer," he rushed over and placed the opened letter on the table, "I was getting the mail, please look at this."

"Who is it from? Didn't I say that you could reply for me if it was insignificant?" Furrowing his brow, Spencer opened the folded paper. Skimming the content, it seemed unimportant. It looked like a letter from a junior. The sender asked about his health, thanked him for his care, and said they they felt lucky to receive his advice at a wedding last month…last month? He froze, a bad feeling overcame him, "Did I attend a wedding on the seventh of last month?"

"No, Master." Cullen, who knew Spencer's schedule well, and shook his head, "The seventh of the last month…that was when they came for the goods."

"They? Goods?" Spencer's mind went blank and he froze. He looked down at the letter and read it again. The seemingly plain lines seemed to hint at the exchange that no one was supposed to know about. The amount of goods, the time they had left the pier, the distribution channels. The shipment of cargo that no one was supposed to know about, the illegal arms that should have been hidden in the darkness, the secrets that were never to be revealed were all known by whoever sent the letter!

Six hundred heavy armor suits, seventy new watcher crossbows, and most importantly… five archangel armor suits—the new assassin weapon created by the Royal Institute of Research. These secrets should have gone soundlessly into the Dark World, unknown by anyone. They should have been, they should have been…they f*cking should have been! But now someone had seen through it all. He had even left his name at the end of the letter, arrogant and mocking—Sherlock Holmes! That was what the man had written at the bottom of the letter.

Reading the last line, Spencer's face grew pale and he fell into a daze.

"The goods have been…discovered, Master." Housekeeper Cullen's voice was hoarse.

"Impossible!" Spencer was furious, but seeing the old housekeeper's panicking eyes, he did not know where to direct his anger! "F*ck, f*ck…" Gritting his teeth, he crumpled up the letter, threw it on the ground and furiously stomped on it. When he finally calmed down, he turned and asked, "Who delivered the letter?"

"A beggar threw it into the mailbox. He escaped before we could catch him." The housekeeper wiped at his sweat, "Master, should we…"

"Keep calm!" Spencer squeezed out from between his teeth, "It is not completely out of control. We can still handle this." Trying to ignore his trembling lungs, Spencer muttered to himself as if trying to comfort himself, "We can still push it down. No one will know. No one…"

"Master, Master!" A servant knocked on the door. When he entered, he was met by the room's suffocating atmosphere and two gloomy gazes. "What happened?"

Spencer's eyes were murderous, "Do I allow servants to disturb me when I am in the library?"

"Th-there are two guests. They want to see you."

"Can't you see that I'm busy?!" Furious, Spencer slammed the pipe down, forgetting that it was his beloved possession. Venting his anger, he roared, "Tell them to get the f*ck out! I don't want to see anyone! Do you understand?!"

"Th-they said…" The servant gulped, "they said they're from the Fifth Division. They want to consult you about something."

Spencer froze. Old housekeeper Cullen turned stiffly, his eyes dazed, "The Fifth Division from…the army?" The servant nodded.

Cullen stumbled back and fell onto the ground. He had almost stopped breathing. The confident housekeeper could no longer keep up his proud stature. He suddenly seemed old, like someone with epilepsy. He gazed at Spencer, his eyes full of despair. "Master…"

The Fifth Division, the Hound Division, the crazy dog den, the executioner family, the cremation center, the nightmare division, were all of its nicknames.

As all knew, the military only had four divisions. There was no fifth division, yet it existed. It had been established in secret after the Dragon Riders had been banned. They were responsible for monitoring, intelligence, assassinations, and getting rid of anything that could not see the light. It was not a part of any group. They were wild dogs loyal only to the Royal family. The man in charge was an old guy who had experienced three kings, the hated lunatic—Maxwell. Under his lead, they had become Anglo's nightmare. Everyone knew that this group of executioners only came if they had a reason…

"Master, Master… go, Master…" the servant frantically called his dazed master. He reached out but Spencer shrieked. Slapping the servant's hand away, Spencer stumbled back, practically pressing himself against the wall.

"I won't go!" Expression terrified, Spencer curled up in the corner, screaming like a lunatic, "I'm not going anywhere! The Rossis are noble men. They won't do this to me!"

"Master, they've gone," the servant reported again, head lowered, "They've left."

Spencer froze, unable to believe it, "They left?"

"Yes." The servant nodded, "They said that you seemed to be busy, so they left an invitation. You're welcome to visit them any time. They can also come take you there if you need them to."

Spencer collapsed into his chair, and stared blankly out the window. Under the blazing sun outside, two men clad in black entered the carriage and left soundlessly. They left. Did those crazy dogs really leave?

After a long time, Spencer finally recovered and commanded, "Out! Get out! I need to be alone…"

The servant helped the weak Cullen out the room. Alone in the still library, Spencer activated the hidden door and walked into a small room. He sat on the chair and took a deep breath, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, he had become a bird of prey. A vulture flying in the sky.

—

When he arrived at the top of the clock tower, the secret meeting was already chaotic. The angry and panicking birds were all arguing and shouting at each other.

The vulture closed its wings. Landing in the center, he realized that those in attendance were all very familiar—they were all 'partners' he had worked with.

The weathered pelican was trying to maintain order, "Everyone, please calm down. Do not argue!"

"Pelican! Do you truly understand our state now?" the magpie screeched. "What's the situation with the letter?"

The vulture flinched. He was not the only one to receive a letter. Making his way around, he discovered that a total of fourteen families had received a mysterious letter. Six families had already been visited by secret police.

"Where's the green falcon?" the vulture asked.

"Taken away," the owl answered coldly, descending from the sky. "I just received the news a few minutes ago." The flock of birds fell silent, panic in their eyes.

"Please calm down." The pelican was much more composed in comparison, "It's obvious that our relationship with the Pyramid Scheme has been discovered. The records of our illegal trades have been revealed. There is no turning back at this point. We need to take care of the aftermath. The aftermath, do you understand?"

"Who can this Holmes fellow be?" The owl grit its teeth in anger, "I want this b*stard to die without a complete corpse! Where's the robin? Isn't he in charge of downtown?"

"Panic not, friend. I am here." A blue robin descended from the sky, landing in the crowd. It said lightly, "My men are investigating."

"F*ck, all they can do is investigate and investigate!" the vulture roared. "Those useless pieces of sh*t can't find anything!"

The pelican nodded, "The only ones who are willing to work for us in downtown is the Pyramid Scheme, but are they still trustworthy? We must receive an explanation from Sam!"

"Sam has disappeared. He knows that we'll look for him. Of course he'll hide" someone said.

The robin had a worse thought, "Or maybe he had already fallen into the hands of this Holmes."

Hesitating, the pelican said, "I can ask a musician from the School of Modifications for help. Maybe they can find some evidence from the letter."

"There's no use. We've already done so." The owl shook his head, "The master Monet had already looked at the letter. There is nothing that can be traced—no fingerprints, no sweat, no body odor. The man wore gloves, and no medium can be used to trace his identity. He is skilled in this. He might even be a musician."

"What about the paper? The paper is the best medium!"

"We've tried it." The owl continued, "The things that the music score 'Yesterday Once More' found was too messy. It includes the breaths of many musicians, but we can't find any matches. It's as if the letters were written in the Musician's Association!

"We don't need the police either. Even a blind man can see that it was written by an elite…or the scribe of an elite family. Fellows, are your secretaries truly trustworthy?" The owl paused, his eyes flashing dangerously, "Or perhaps, is he one of us?"

The birds exchanged glances in the silence. Finally, their gaze turned to the vulture. It was clear that, even here, the vulture was the least popular.

Sensing their eyes, the vulture froze, instantly furious, "You suspect me of betraying you all? You d*mned b*stards, I was part of the trade. Why would I make trouble for myself?!"

"I just want to remind everyone to not leave behind any complications" someone said.

"Of course there won't be any!" The vulture's voice was full of frustration, "What do we do now? Do we wait for the secret police to find us one by one and take us away?!" He continued, "The Royal family has been displeased with us for a long time. The Queen has been having some mental issues recently because of the curse. They are willing to seek outside help, to ask the Easterners for help. If they know that we've been messing around at this critical point, they'll never let us go."

"Calm down. The Fifth Division has only heard some rumors. The green falcon has just gone to cooperate with the investigation. He wasn't arrested," the blue robin said coolly. "If they really did have evidence, we would not be chatting here. At that point, the Fifth Division would kindly open a VIP room for us in the Arkham Asylum. We might be able to have a party there."

"You mean they can't do anything to us at the moment?" The vulture could not believe it.

"Do you still not understand? Why did Holmes choose to send you all the letter?" the blue robin asked mockingly. "He's blackmailing you all, my friends! This is clearly to provoke parliament!"

The vulture panicked, "He can have as much money as he wants!"

"Are you kidding me?" The blue robin laughed, "Gentlemen, let me remind you. You might have met the most arrogant kidnapper in the history of Avalon! He has already put blackmail letters containing the fingers of captives into the mailboxes of fourteen families! He has declared war on half of Avalon! How can you satisfy a lunatic like that with money?"

The crowd remained silent. Everyone felt a chill go down their spine. Catching the attention of a lunatic was never a good thing, especially if the lunatic might be a dark musician! The scariest fact of the matter was that this dark musician had escaped past the Avalon Enchantment, hid from the Musician Association, and snuck into Avalon! No one knew what this crazy man could do!

"…What if we stop?" a weak voice sounded from the crowd.

—

The flock of birds rustled, and turned to the source of the voice. At the back of the crowd, the magpie flinched, obviously scared out of his wits. He said, "As long as we don't get into the mess of Avalon's Shadow and search for the Blood Path, the dark musician won't become our enemy, right? And… and…" he could not continue.

The blue robin's eyes had turned icy. "Do you think you're still able to stop now?" he asked coldly. "We've put in so much effort to spark fights in downtown, and squash the Shaman's comeback just to find the Blood Path. The Queen has been trying to reduce our power ever since she took the throne. She wants to turn the glorious bloodlines into nothing but a name.

"The Royal family is at its weakest point now. We can only take the initiative if we have the Blood Path. Because at that time, even the Queen will have to listen to us! A dark musician is just an obstacle! What are you all scared of?! Didn't we work together and force the Shaman away before?"

"But what should we do now?" the owl asked. "Let that dark musician Holmes continue making a mess of things?"

"We don't need to do anything," the blue robin suddenly said. "Just wait patiently for Holmes to make a mistake. If he dares to leave any evidence behind, he will be dead."

"If he reports us…"

"How?" The blue robin scoffed, "His biggest mistake was in writing the letter and giving us time to prepare. All we need to do is destroy all evidence and create a clear alibi. He won't be able to do anything to us! And anyway, the elites of Avalon aren't all perfect like Lancelot. Everyone has done something illegal. The Royals can't kill all of us, can they?"

As the crowd fell silent, the pelican sighed, "But we must give up on the Pyramid Scheme."

Hearing this, the vulture felt a pang in his heart. Giving up on a hundred-thousand pounds of monthly profit and the tools for dirty work felt as if he was slicing up his own heart to give away. The money was not the most important either. Without the Pyramid Scheme, their eyes, ears, and influence in downtown would be wiped out. They would have to start all over. And the Shaman just had to come back. It was the worst timing!

"Don't worry. If we can bring the Pyramid Scheme to power, naturally we can help others too. There are many in downtown who want to be connected to us." The blue robin's voice was sinister, "We've let the rednecks go free for too long. This is a good chance to clean them out. Just like nine years ago, the ones who are obedient can survive, but the Shaman, the Professor, and Holmes will die. At that time, all clues to the Blood Path would be in our hands."

"And Sam," someone added. "Get rid of Sam first. That guy knows too much. If he calls us out, things will be messy."

"Don't worry. Sam will die sooner or later," the blue robin replied. "To prepare for this day, I hired a Blood Sorcerer long ago to curse him. So there shouldn't be any problems if you take care of your own evidence."

"Take care of…our evidence?" the vulture murmured to himself. When he opened his eyes, he was back in his own body. His eyes were ruthless.

—

"Cullen! Cullen!" Spencer pushed open the library door, calling for his housekeeper, "Tell Cullen to come see me!"

He paced in the library silently, his face dark, as he thought of every detail. But just as he was focused on his thoughts, faint crying and screams sounded. "What's going on?" he yelled in frustration.

The servant outside the door said, "Master, it's Young Master Edmund. He's crying again."

"That useless piece of trash! How is he shameless enough to cry?" Furious, Spencer grabbed an Eastern vase nearby and shattered it at the servant's feet. "The family had such high expectations for him, but he's nothing compared to Banner, or Banner's brother, Gavin."

Usually, Spencer's voice was full of love when speaking of his youngest child, but now his heart was filled with anger he needed to vent.

"Stealing something so precious from his uncle is one thing. But then he dared to get destroyed by a redneck! And he's crying?!"

The servant trembled, too afraid to reply. Seeing that Cullen had arrived, he retreated quietly.

All that could be heard in the silence was Edmund's cries. One could vaguely hear, "I want him to die,""Where's Father? I want to see Father!" adding to Spencer's anger.

"Cullen, make him shut up," Spencer spat, "or else he'll be locked up!"

"Yes," Cullen nodded, still shaken from earlier. He turned to leave but heard a voice behind him, "Bring me everything that the Pyramid Scheme had given. Nothing can remain." He froze in disbelief, instinctively calculating the value of everything. "Everything?" Cullen confirmed.

"Everything." Spencer nodded tersely, "Alert the workers in the boiler room. Tell them we'll need to use it soon."

—

Half an hour later, the boiler room had become a furnace. It was hard to believe that someone had started the boiler in such hot weather. Servants threw coal in continuously, raising the temperature. Every breath was like swallowing lava. The pain was like a fifth degree burn.

Spencer stood before the boiler, observing the giant thing that could heat up an entire manor in the winter. The door as tall as a man was wide open. Sparks flew in the blazing air, glowing red. Sweat rolled down his back. He held a handkerchief to his mouth, trying to breathe.

"Master, it's ready," Cullen reported quietly, walking in slowly. "Everything's here."

Spencer turned to look at the dozens of trolleys. They were filled with antiques, account books, Eastern silk, Burgundy wine, Asgardian tobacco, and ancient books. His heart in pain, he closed his eyes and waved, telling them to hurry.

Muscular servants pushed the trolleys toward the blazing boiler. Even from the distance, their hair curled, and their skin turned red. They did not dare get close to the boiler. They let the trolleys go from a distance, throwing them into the boiler. The precious items burned easily in the red fire and light that seemed to come from hell. Even the trolleys slowly melted before finally disappearing completely. Not even ash was left behind.

One trolley, another trolley, yet another, and another, and another f*cking trolley…Spencer felt his heart dripping with blood. "Are there more?" he asked.

Cullen shook his head, "Master, they're all here."

"All here?" Spencer seemed unconvinced, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Master. They're all here." Cullen nodded blankly and suddenly felt pain in his chest. Lowering his head stiffly, he saw a silk gloved hand and the dagger in it. The dagger was Spencer's favorite blade. It had been given to him by Sam, and could apparently slice through steel as if it were mud, but now it was in his heart.

"Ma…Master?" Cullen looked up in confusion, his eyes studying Spencer's face hopelessly.

"You've worked for our family for three years. I thank you on behalf of my grandfather and my father," Spencer pulled out the dagger, him bidding farewell. "Goodbye, my old friend."

His 'old friend' could no longer speak. He collapsed on the floor, whispering something in despair before gradually closing his eyes. The blood dried quickly in the hot wind. It evaporated, leaving behind a dark red stain. It was hardly noticeable on the black floor.

"Get rid of it with the other things. With their company, old Cullen won't be lonely in Heaven," Spencer tossed the dagger and gloves onto the corpse and left.

The body fizzled and popped in the burner, and turned to coal. The coal gradually crumbled into powder, making small noises as if the soul was wailing in the fire of hell. Finally, the wails disappeared in the flames. Nothing was left behind.

With his back to the blazing light, Spencer stared into the sky outside, his eyes bloodshot. He murmured the d*mned name like a mantra, "Holmes, Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, that d*mn Sherlock Holmes…"

Outside the boiler room, the weather was still burning as if it were an even bigger boiler. Even the ocean breeze had stopped at one point. The entire city seemed to be submerged in boiling glue. It was unbearable.

Above the dazzling, radiant, heavenly city, a cloud of polluted smoke rose among the tall uptown buildings. As the boiler room workers fervently created wind, the ashes flew with the flames. The remains of sins rode the hot wind, rising from the crude boiler, finally escaping its hold. They were free outside the boiler, and expanded like a drop of ink in water.

The black smoke seemed solid like metal in the windless air. It rose slow and thick as if it was determined to reach the stars. From afar, it looked like a black pillar reaching into the sky. Just like how one bird flying away in fright would lead to a flock of birds flying, a second cloud of black smoke rose soon after. And then a third, and a fourth…

Everyone in the city looked toward uptown in confusion, looking the smoke that seemed frozen in the air. The people discussed amongst themselves. Some counted the smoke stacks excitedly, "Five, six… eleven, twelve… sixteen, seventeen! Seventeen!" Under the blazing sun, between the ocean and the sky, above the dazzling city were seventeen clouds of black smoke. They rose from the earth to the air, like pillars holding up the sky. Just as the legends said, the glorious bloodlines were pillars that held up the empire…but these things were polluted to the bone.

Many looked at the angry and humiliated clouds of smoke and laughed gleefully, as if seeing faces swollen from being slapped, but the well-informed witnesses became cautious, ingraining in their mind the name of the man who had practically set uptown on fire—Sherlock Holmes. Who was Sherlock Holmes?

—

"This is a warning," Shaman said in downtown. "A challenge and a warning to everyone."

"Warning?" Ghosthand asked in confusion, "To whom?"

"To anyone who can see it." The Shaman studied the smoke pillars as if observing an art masterpiece. His eyes were full of appreciation.

"Is this Holmes getting interested in downtown as well?" Ghosthand refused to believe it, as if it were a joke.

"Why not? Every creature needs his own hunting ground, is that not true?" The Shaman chuckled in the darkness, "Those who have gone to the Dark World know that some fallen tribes like to put up a sign, marking their territory to show that they are sovereign. Some are delicate bones, others are dried corpses or wild totems. When you see them, you know that you should turn around and leave. They're waving at you. And when you look at the sign… they are also looking at you."

—

"What a great show. Amazing." The white-haired youth stood before the window, studying the black smoke in the sky. He chuckled lightly, "Really, it looks much better than all your faces from before." No one replied.

"Let's just see this as an omen for the return of the wanderer." As if studying those faces, he murmured, "This is just an offhand reminder. Someday, you'll need to finish paying the debts…"

The shadows of times past flashed through the youth's eyes. He closed the curtains slowly, moving on from the scene. In the dark room, he sat in a chair, feeling the endless strength leave him bit by bit. The pain and contradicting feelings in his heart, the confusion and frustrations that kept him awake at night finally seemed to disappear. What replaced them was the long-awaited exhaustion. It drowned him like a tidal wave.

Smiling, the youth closed his eyes. The nightmares of the past would not appear in his peaceful dream, right? Finally, he could sleep for a bit.

—

"F*ck, f*ck, f*ck!" someone swore in a hoarse on a small boat slowly leaving the port. Cursing, the man flipped a table in rage, "F*ck Holmes. F*ck Holmes!"

Glaring at the evil smoke snaking above Avalon, his eyes were wild and hopeless, "I should've killed you, you d*mned b*stard!"

As if he had serious malaria or a strange disease, the man's skin was green and red, but his face was deathly pale and covered with chickenpox. He curled up in the corner of the ship, panic in his eyes. He was wrapped in a blanket, but his body shook uncontrollably. Under the blanket, his skin swelled, bubbling and rotted.

No one could imagine that the arrogant and proud Pyramid King would be reduced to this state. He looked like a dead and rotting rat. Anyone could see that it was all over for him.

Ever since he had realized that he lost his notebook last night, he started panicking. At first, he hoped that Holmes could not read his notes. But who would have known that his code could be read as easily as a novel?

In the morning, he received the news—many people were secretly searching for him. He had hoped the elites could protect him, but when he found out that they had received mysterious letters, he knew that it was all over for him. In the past, they had been the Pyramid Scheme's protective shield, but now they were the ones out for the Pyramid Scheme's blood.

Soon, his hard work would be uprooted and wiped out cruelly, with a new face after they erased his existence. A new dog would be in place to continue working for the elites. He must die—he would die. Nobody would allow someone who knew too much to live, especially someone like Sam, who was willing to say anything to survive.

As his innards twisted in pain, he bit down on the blanket, forcing himself to endure the dizziness and fatigue. He could not fall asleep. Once he did, everything would be over.

"Faster, faster…" he murmured, his eyes full of fear. He had thought that his escape was perfect, but when he boarded the ship, he realized that he had been cursed with the Blood Curse. He realized that the fatal noose had been around his neck all this time. If he moved even a little, he would die from asphyxiation.

Now, he just wished he could leave Avalon as soon as possible. The musician who had cursed him was in Avalon. The further he was from the city, the weaker the curse would be. He could only hope that he could find someone who could undo the curse in time, but this was impossible. The crisp voice in his ears was getting clearer.

It was the melody of the noose, digging into his bones and destroying him, "One blind mouse, two blind mice, three blind mice! See how they run!"

All that could be heard in the stillness was the sound of the boils popping, and Sam's pained moans. But somehow, he could hear children singing quietly. The song was cruel, eating away at his life like maggots in his bones, "Cut off their tails, dig out the small eyes, the cute furry body. Rip off their paws, shave the sweet bone marrow, the warm organs are gone…"

The crisp voice continued to sing in his ears, "Did you ever see such a sight in your life, as three blind mice…three blind mice, three blind mice…"

Face ghastly pale, Sam suddenly opened his mouth and threw up the food in his intestines. They had rotted, like stew made from garbage…

Sam froze. He raised his hand blankly. His trembling hand was numb. It seemed to have disappeared, and that was left was a bag of skin and bones. He looked up at the drawer. The mirror on it had shattered. The shards landed before him, reflecting his withered face.

Warm blood flowed from his eyes, nose, and mouth, cruelly taking away any warmth from his body. He tried screaming out in despair, but he no longer had the strength to scream. He wanted to cry, but had no tears. He prayed to the gods, to the demons, to the monsters, to anything that could help. He was willing to give up anything in order to live.

"Including your soul?" a sandy voice asked softly in his ear. He used the last of his strength to raise his head, looking at the figure that had appeared.

Sam no longer had the strength to be afraid. Bloody tears of gratitude rolled from the corner of his eyes. He blinked with difficulty. The blinks seemed to say, "Please save me, please save. Please, you must save me. No matter what…just let me live."

"Then sign this." The cold shadow tossed him a contract branded with a music piece, "If you still have the strength to sell your soul, you can live."

Finally saved, the Pyramid King writhed painfully on the ground. Like a decaying caterpillar, he squirmed toward the open contract.

He was like a sinner in hell squirming toward heaven, begging for salvation. Full of hope, full of humiliation, full of joy, he raised his rotting hand bit by bit and pressed it down onto the contract. The paper lit up with a cloudy light and lit up in flames, vanishing.

"Very good." The black-robed shadow smiled in the darkness and snapped his fingers. The children's voices suddenly stopped, disappearing with a scream. All that was left was a dying and decaying body on the ground, using its last breath.

"Congratulations. You can continue living after selling your last item." The shadow reached out a delicate and white hand. The amber ring on his finger reflected a gentle yet eerie light. "Greet your new master."

On the ground, the Pyramid King shed tears of gratitude. He kissed the ring sincerely, "Yes, my great master, the great Professor, the great…Lord Moriarty."