absurd deduction game.

For a period of time afterward, the atmosphere of the art exhibition seemed to enter a delicate period of stability.

Mrs. Furnell devoted more of her energy to the real "battlefield" of social interaction—the network of interpersonal relationships and interests.

Linked arm in arm with Yu Xing, she moved gracefully among different social circles, like a butterfly flitting among its own flowers.

"Commander Brown, I think the funding proposal for the new security posts in the East District needs further consideration..."

"Mr. Wilson, I heard you've been having some trouble with your textile raw materials lately? I know a few businessmen in the north; perhaps I can introduce you..."

“Mr. Raphael, that set of Renaissance silverware you took a liking to last time, I think my father left behind a similar set. We can have it appraised another day…”

She spoke tactfully, sometimes exerting pressure, sometimes showing goodwill, manipulating her connections and resources at will. Yu Xing perfectly played the role of her male companion and bodyguard, standing half a step to her side and occasionally joining the conversation.

Many people are interested in investigators, curious about their job, and envious of their social status.

While dealing with some unnecessary conversations, Yu Xing's tongue... no, her tentacles were not idle either, continuing to silently "clean up" the remaining non-core paintings in the exhibition hall.

Those core elements of spiritual pollution hidden beneath the colors and lines were, as if encountering a natural enemy, dragged out, devoured, and annihilated one by one. The whole process was silent, with only the captivating charm of the painting itself quietly fading away.

As time went on, more and more guests lost interest.

The originally lively discussions were gradually replaced by more pragmatic business conversations or mere small talk.

Irwin Clifford's paintings seem to have truly been a flash in the pan, quickly fading into mediocrity after a brief period of brilliance, leaving many who came for the artist's renowned reputation greatly disappointed.

Yu Xing didn't know what the painter himself was thinking, but he had a good time and, in a good mood, he saw the actors not far away.

The church must have already contacted the actors, right?
Since he would be working with the performers temporarily, Yu Xing devoted more of his attention to them.

At this moment, the actor was having a pleasant conversation with Mr. Raphael, the antique dealer and collector.

He even possessed a scholarly elegance, pointing to a painting depicting ancient temple ruins that Yu Xing had just "visited" not far away, and began to speak eloquently:

"...Mr. Raphael, you see, the texture of this mural fragment clearly draws on the 'gravel brushwork' of the late ■■ period, but the use of color boldly incorporates the mosaic style of the ■■■ period. This attempt to transcend time and space, although slightly immature, is enough to show the artist's ambition."

Since Yu Xing didn't specifically research the historical background of this copy, some of the professional historical terms used by the actors seemed to just slide across his cerebral cortex without leaving any trace.

Mr. Raphael nodded repeatedly, his gaze toward the actor filled with admiration: "I never expected that Mr. Actor would have such a profound knowledge of art history. It is truly admirable."

The actor smiled modestly, his gaze seemingly casually sweeping over Yu Xing, who was walking alongside Madame Funer, their eyes briefly meeting in the air.

A fleeting, knowing glance flashed in the actor's eyes, but he quickly resumed his conversation with Mr. Raphael about the rise and fall of a lesser-known school of painting.

Yu Xing's expression remained unchanged, but he understood in his heart that the actor had obviously also noticed the abnormality of the painting and knew what he had done at the art exhibition.

So what.

If he clears away all the potential pitfalls at the art exhibition beforehand, at most the fireworks won't be spectacular, leaving the participants with nothing to show for their efforts.

That's definitely better than having all the important NPCs' artwork ruined.

The art exhibition progressed amidst superficial glamour and undercurrents.

The night outside the window grew darker, and the lights in the gallery seemed to be adjusted to be softer, focusing on the few paintings that had not yet been seen and the final section that was about to be unveiled.

Finally, as the clock hands passed a certain mark, Evan Clifford once again stepped onto the small podium at the front of the class.

The gloom on his face seemed to be replaced by a deliberately crafted expression that blended anticipation and mystery. The lights focused on him, drawing the attention of all the guests.

"Distinguished guests," his voice, carrying a suppressed excitement, echoed through the exhibition hall through the microphone, "thank you all for your presence tonight and for your patient appreciation of Evan Clifford's humble work."

The room fell silent; everyone knew that the main event was about to begin.

Although the previous paintings weren't that amazing, the final piece should be different, right?
“The path of art is endless,” Evan continued, his gaze slowly sweeping across the audience, pausing briefly on Yu Xing’s face, so quickly that it was almost imperceptible. “As a painter, I am always pursuing those scenes and insights that transcend the ordinary and touch the essence of the soul.”

His words carried a captivating magnetism: "And tonight, I will have the privilege of showing you what is most special in my recent creative career, and what makes me feel the most... trembling."

He paused, creating enough suspense, before slowly announcing: "In thirty minutes, I will personally unveil the final piece of this exhibition—'Starry Night'."

“Starry Night…” he repeated the name, his tone filled with an almost devout fervor, “It is not a simple depiction of the starry night, but an attempt by me to capture the ancient, cold, and magnificent ‘truth’ that exists in the vast universe. It contains a power that transcends words, and may lead us to briefly glimpse the mysterious realm that ordinary eyes cannot reach…”

The church members who came with Qu Xianqing noticed this and immediately looked at him with cold expressions.

But others are not as perceptive to the word "starry sky," since the well-known strange events of the past three months do not include the influence of celestial bodies, and most people would not immediately think of the blood moon thirty years ago.

This introduction, full of mystery and allure, immediately piqued the curiosity of the guests present.

The previous disappointment seemed to have lessened considerably, and discussions began again:
"Starry Night? If it's painted well, it should be very beautiful."

"Evan's explanation is so mysterious, it seems this painting really is different?"

"Hopefully, we can salvage the situation tonight..."

"I hope this isn't just another gimmick; I'd be happy to collect this young painter's work."

Mrs. Fernail raised an eyebrow slightly and whispered to Yu Xing, "Finally, something to look forward to. 'Starry Night'... I wonder what kind of scenery it will be?"

She seemed to have rekindled some of her expectations for art.

Yu Xing didn't answer, a hint of understanding flashing in his eyes. "Starry Night?"

Is this the trump card that this obviously problematic painter prepared for tonight? And is this also his purpose in gathering a large group of high-society figures to attend the art exhibition during this sensitive period?
Since it's the grand finale, the pollution level is probably on a completely different scale from the paintings already on display. If it were to be exhibited successfully, who knows how many people in the audience would be instantly contaminated to an irreversible degree.

Must be stopped.

There are still thirty minutes left, which is plenty of time.

He glanced in the direction of the performer and found that the performer was also gazing thoughtfully at the podium, a subtle, enigmatic smile playing on his lips.

……

The hustle and bustle of the art exhibition hall was shut out by the heavy doors, and the lounge was quiet, with only the faint moonlight filtering through the window outlining the furniture in a blurry shape.

Alvin Clifford stood alone in the shadows, his fingertips unconsciously fidgeting. The excitement and gloom he had forcibly suppressed on stage resurfaced in his brows when he was alone.

"The painting that embodies the will and power of our Lord is about to be revealed to the public..."

he murmured.

The thought that those ignorant and powerful people would soon become part of the anchor point without anyone noticing, becoming believers as fanatical as him, made it hard for him to suppress a twisted smile.

However, Yu Xing's calm and expressionless face and those eyes that seemed to see through everything lingered in his heart like cold needles, bringing a sense of unease.

Those damn investigators.

Their arrival brought so many changes to the plan!
Forget it, forget it... The ancient god aura in "Starry Night" is incomparable to other paintings. Even investigators who come into contact with it will only become one of the fanatics. The same goes for that Easterner named Yu Xing.

No mortal can resist the temptations of the ancient gods!

Just then, the door to the lounge was silently pushed open.

Evan turned his head sharply, a hint of wariness and displeasure flashing in his eyes.

Upon seeing who it was, his tense nerves relaxed slightly, but his suspicions deepened—it was the investigator with the unique demeanor who was chatting happily with several collectors, the actor.

Why would an investigator come to him at this time?
Is it because of his painting...?

“Mr. Clifford, I apologize for disturbing you.” The musician gently closed the door behind him, his voice warm and melodious, like a night breeze caressing the strings of a harp.

He wore a perfectly timed smile, one that seemed to know everything yet had no intention of being offensive: "The preview on stage just now was truly exhilarating. The starry sky... what a thought-provoking name."

Evan narrowed his eyes, his tone carrying the impatience and aloofness characteristic of an artist being disturbed: "Mr. Performer? The exhibition is not over yet. If you are interested in the works, you can continue to enjoy them in the gallery. This is a private area."

The actor seemed oblivious to the hint of dismissal in his words, and slowly walked forward, his gaze deep and unfathomable in the dim light: "It is precisely because of my strong interest that I have to come here. I fell in love with that painting, 'Starry Night,' at first sight. Oh, I have not yet seen it, or more accurately, I value its potential 'value' immensely."

He stopped a few steps away from Evan, his tone still relaxed, but he made an undeniable offer: "I am willing to buy this painting, 'Starry Night,' for double the price you have listed."

Aiven's pupils contracted slightly, and he resolutely refused: "Impossible! 'Starry Night' is the culmination of my hard work, and it's the grand finale of this exhibition. It must..."

"It must be publicly displayed so that everyone you invited can 'appreciate' it?" The musician interrupted him softly, the corners of his mouth curving into a deeper smile, tinged with a hint of sarcasm. "That's not a good idea, Mr. Clifford. Such a rash move won't bring you any safe and secure benefits. The Church of the True God in town is not to be trifled with."

Evan's heart skipped a beat, his eyes instantly turning sharp as knives as he stared intently at the performer: "What do you mean?"

“My point is simple, Mr. Clifford.” The actor shrugged, his posture elegant, as if discussing a perfectly ordinary transaction. “I know your paintings are extraordinary; many people in the hall know this, and it doesn’t escape the eyes of our investigators.”

“But we did not immediately report you to the Church of the Mother of Harvest. You should understand the significance of that.”

Evan took a deep breath and told himself to stay calm.

He countered, "And what do you hope to gain from this?"

The actor leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice to an even deeper whisper, like a devil's murmur: "I... have no interest in stopping your plans and the plans of the 'great being' behind you, but it's clear that your decision this time is very problematic."

"Didn't you see the church deacons in the meeting? Whatever your thoughts are, once things get out of hand, the plan will inevitably fall apart."

"So, rationally speaking, you should stop now."

"But you must feel very unwilling, right? You've done so much preparation for this art exhibition. Stopping the plan will mean no gains, and the sunk costs you've incurred are too high."

Evan: "..."

The performer smiled and said, "My suggestion is the best way to recover your losses. Although you will not get the expected harvest, you will get a more tempting spoil."

"What is it?" Evan suppressed the inexplicable chill that ran down his spine and had to admit that he was drawn to the words of the investigator in front of him, who was full of evil and depravity.

"Personally, I have some minor disagreements with Mr. Yu Xing." A hint of undisguised malice flashed in the actor's eyes, so quick it was almost an illusion, yet enough for Evan to catch the real chill in his eyes.

“Sell me ‘Starry Night’ and I will personally ‘gift’ it to Yu Xing.”

The performer slowly curved his lips into a smile: "In this way, this painting, which contains supreme 'enlightenment,' can bypass those mediocre people who cannot understand its true value and be delivered directly to the person who can 'appreciate' it the most. I believe Mr. Yu Xing will be very... pleasantly surprised."

As someone who had guessed the painting's abilities, he was practically playing his cards right in the open. The implications in the actor's words were self-evident—he wanted to directly use "Starry Sky" to corrupt Yu Xing, so that Yu Xing would be directly controlled by Aiven. In this way, Aiven... no, the ancient god would gain a believer with terrifying abilities, and he could also get rid of an annoying colleague.

Evan understood everything instantly.

“In exchange,” the musician straightened up, regaining his composed demeanor, “this painting will no longer be exhibited to the public. You and your companions, and my colleagues and I, will avoid some unnecessary trouble. After all, the church is watching this exhibition. You wouldn't want the Mother Goddess of Harvest to uproot all your arrangements of the past years after a brief moment of whim, would you?” (End of Chapter)