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Lumian carried the calcium carbide lamp and went up the stone steps.
Not long after, a light appeared in front of him, and noisy human voices came. Come. For those who walked out silently, it was like the whole world had come to life. Lumian quickened his pace, and with his right hand holding the suitcase, he turned the valve on the surface of the calcium carbide lamp, so that the water droplets on the cylinder above would no longer drip onto the ground. In the calcium carbide pile below.
As the acetylene gas burns out, the flame in the metal bell mouth gradually dies out.
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At this time, the scene outside also caught Lumian's eyes:
Those high or low buildings seemed to solidify at the moment they were about to collapse, not only maintaining a state of leaning or crumbling, but also standing tenaciously.
The clothes of pedestrians on the street are either old or tattered, and there are people arguing and unilaterally cursing each other everywhere, and the resulting noise seems to never subside.
Lumian stood at the exit of the underground area, glanced left and right, and found a five-story building called "Golden Rooster Hotel".
The top two floors of this brown-beige building seem to have been built later, which is completely different from the style of the bottom three floors, which favored column walls, arches, large windows, and floral decorations during the Roselle period. The village of Erdu moved over.
Lumian, carrying a suitcase and a calcium carbide lamp, passed between the children squatting on the ground looking for orange peels and the adults arguing loudly, and walked to the door of the "Golden Rooster Hotel".
He looked up and found yellow phlegm, scraps of paper, spilled ketchup, and alcohol-smelling stains on the floor of the hotel, and a large number of bedbugs lined up on the ceiling and walls from time to time.
If it weren't for the things in his hands, Lumian would have to applaud a few times for such a scene.
The old taverns in Kordu Village are much cleaner than this!
He searched for a route without any filth, and came to the front desk at a leisurely pace.
Sitting there was a fat middle-aged woman, her off-white long skirt was stained with a lot of oil, and her brown hair was simply coiled behind her head.
She raised her head and glanced at Lumian with her blue eyes, not surprised by the disgust and resistance on his face:
"In the street, in the market area, this is the best and cheapest hotel, but the owner is a disgusting miser, reluctant to hire a few regular cleaning maids, and only finds someone to clean it once a week."
"He's also stingy with your salary?" Lumian asked in a youthful and curious tone.
The middle-aged woman was angry:
"Do you want to rent a house?"
"Yes." Lumian seemed to be frightened, and spoke quickly to express his attitude, "I want to know the price." The middle-aged woman eased her emotions
"It depends on what kind of room you want. The top two floors are 3 Filkins per week, and the bottom two floors are 5 Filkins a week. Give you half of your own bed, or sublease the vacant space on the ground to you, about 1 to 1.5 Filkin a week.
"Give me the rooms on the two floors below." Lumian chose the reason because it was easier to escape than the two floors above, no matter jumping out of the window or taking the stairs.
The overweight woman looked at Lumian
If you choose to prepay the entire month's rent in one lump sum, you can only pay 15 Filkin. "
"Because there are so many people who only stay for a week or two and then have to move elsewhere or leave Trier.
"This is heaven and hell."
Lumian took out the stack of banknotes just now, and took out three light blue banknotes from it.
They all have a denomination of 5 Filkin. On the front is the bust of Levanks, the first president of the Republic of Intis, and working farmers and herdsmen, and on the back is the Hornages Mountains.
After receiving the whole month's rent, the overweight woman's expression obviously eased a lot. She took out two brass-colored keys that were strung together and threw them upwards to Lumian, "Room 207, 2nd floor, first floor There is a small restaurant, the basement is a tavern, there is sulfur in the drawer of the table in the room, it can help you get rid of those **** bugs, my name is Fels, you can come to me if you have any questions."
"Thank you, Mrs. Firth." Lumian took the key, carried the suitcase and the calcium carbide lamp, and walked up the stairs to the second floor.
On the way, he saw that many places on the walls were pasted with newspapers or that very cheap pink paper, layer after layer, but some of the paper had come loose, revealing the cracks covered by them and a large number of bedbugs .
There are eight rooms and two bathrooms on the second floor, each room is very narrow, with a bed on the right, a table by the window against the edge of the bed, and a chair with a broken leg in front of the wall.
There was no furniture of any kind, but there were rows of bedbugs crawling around the ceiling.
Following Aurora, Lumian, who was used to being clean and tidy, put down the suitcase and calcium carbide lamp, opened the drawer, took out some sulfur, and lit them with a match.
The bedbugs in the strong and pungent smell moved away from this room and moved to other places.
Within a few seconds, Lumian sniffled and smelled the same sulfur smell coming from the next room.
pure land.
Almost at the same time, some bedbugs returned to his room. Lumian, who was looking for peace, thought for a while, and probably understood what was going on:
He used sulfur to fume the bedbugs into an adjoining room, where the tenants tried to drive them back with sulfur.
Lumian couldn't help smiling, bent down to open the suitcase, and took out a pen and paper.
In the strong smell of sulfur, he sat down at the wooden table and began to write:
"Dear Ms. Magician:
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"Are those two psychologists available anytime soon, and when can I get treatment?
"As for Guillaume, Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Pouaris, I wonder if you have any new clues..."
After writing this short letter, Lumian took out an orange candle she got from her sister's room.
A mix of citrus and lavender fills the air as he spiritually lights the candle.
This made Lumian close his eyes instinctively, and his expression gradually calmed down.
After standing quietly for a minute or two, he took out the ceremonial silver dagger, consecrated, created a "spiritual wall", and dripped essential oils on the candle.
After completing the pre-requisites, Lumian put the "magician" card on the altar.
This is the medium of the summoning messenger, which can make the ambiguous spell precise and unique.
Lumian took a step back, looked at the slightly hazy orange flame, and said in a deep voice in ancient Hermes:
"I!"
Immediately, an invisible wind began to swirl in the "Spiritual Wall", and the light in the room dimmed a bit.
Immediately afterwards, Lumian switched to Hermes and said:
"I call in my name:
"A spirit that wanders in emptiness, a creature from the upper world that is friendly to humans, and a messenger that belongs exclusively to the 'magician'."
In the whistling wind, the candle flames were stained with a faint blue color, and the surroundings became gloomy and cold.
Lumian focused on the candle, waiting for the messenger of Ms. "Magician" to appear.
He waited several seconds, and there were no additional changes there.
At this moment, the letter he placed on the altar, that is, on the wooden table, floated up and flew into the air.
Lumian looked up in astonishment, and saw a "doll" of an adult man sitting on the top of the carved window.
The "doll" has long blond hair, light blue eyes, pale skin, and an exquisite pale gold dress. Its facial features look like real people, but they are slightly exaggerated, which is quite weird.
In the next second, the letter landed on the "doll"'s smooth and clean hands without skin texture.
"You are the messenger of Ms. Magician? Lumian asked in confirmation.
The "doll" slowly lowered its head, and Lumian's figure was reflected in the light blue eyes without focus and expression.
"Change to a cleaner environment next time!"
As soon as the words fell, the "doll" disappeared with the letter.
Lumian was stunned for two seconds and whispered to himself:
Almost at the same time, he saw a large number of bedbug corpses lying on the ground.
There are no more insects in his room.
"This is better than sulfur..." Lumian touched his chin and ended the summoning ceremony.
He cleaned the room habitually, squatted next to the suitcase, and took out the toiletries from it.
Aurora's dark witchcraft notebooks were lying quietly at the bottom of the box.
On the way to Trier, Lumian had roughly searched through them, and found nothing suspicious. After all, Aurora is not a person who likes to write a diary and record moods and various trivial matters. Her witchcraft notes It's really just notes, full of all kinds of mystic knowledge, and copied many spells, symbolic patterns, and material selection principles.
It may be that Aurora likes to keep accounts. Most of these spells are marked with when and where how much money or what things were exchanged.
This let Lumian know that there should be multiple interest groups under the "Curly-haired Baboon Research Association". She also participates in the exchanges of other groups from time to time, for example, she got some occult knowledge and spells from "April Fool's Day".
Since these notes seem to be fine, Lumian can only continue to pursue the truth from the two aspects of receiving treatment from a psychologist and finding the curate and Mrs. Pouaris.
Of course, he also knew that my sister would never mention the notes for no reason at the last moment, and there must be some important information she wanted to convey hidden in it.
Looking at the dark notebooks, Lumian decided to start tonight and study the things recorded by her sister in reverse order.
After simply packing his luggage, Lumian heard his stomach growl.
He stood up, looked at the window, through the glass at dusk, he vaguely saw his own appearance:
His hair was dyed blond and grew a little longer. His facial features haven't been treated too much, but with a white shirt, black vest, dark formal attire and indifferent expression, he has matured for several years, even the priest Guillaume When Bene met, he should only feel familiar.
Lumian patted his face, allowing a smile to appear little by little, then opened the door and walked out.
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