Starting as dockworkers, they swept through Chongqing.

The woman seemed somewhat surprised by Lund's tough attitude.

She abandoned her languid demeanor, sat up slightly, and her tone carried a hint of coldness:

"Are you sure you want to turn against me for this kid?"

The solution I just proposed is the simplest and most merciful way to repay the debt caused by the destruction of my container.

Lund refused to yield an inch. His internal energy had reached its peak, and his hands faintly gleamed with the metallic luster unique to mutants.

"Please change the terms."

No matter how much money or how precious and extraordinary the materials, the Iron Cross Club will do everything in its power to find them for you.

Lund paused, his tone softening slightly, "After all, he's still just a kid who's not even twenty."

Upon hearing the word "child," the woman suddenly burst into a sharp, mocking laugh.

"Hahaha! A child?"

The woman pointed at Xilun, her voice turning incredibly cold, "My disciple, Huma, she's still a lovely child."

She was not even a hundred years old, in the prime of her life, and her head was so cruelly smashed by you, her so-called 'child' disciple!

As the woman's anger flared, the surrounding air temperature plummeted instantly.

The grass on the green lawn withered and frosted at a speed visible to the naked eye.

A bead of cold sweat appeared on Lund's forehead; he knew what a terrifying monster he was facing.

But he still protected Xilun with all his might.

The woman stared intently at Lund for a long time, seemingly assessing whether killing the two directly would attract the attention of those annoying old men in the church.

After a long while, the surrounding frost gradually faded away.

The woman seemed bored; she sighed and leaned back in her chair.

"Fine. Since you won't agree to sell his body, then in order to quell my anger, I'll have to reluctantly change the terms."

She thought for a moment, then pulled out a strangely shaped whistle from deep within her wide sleeves and tossed it away casually.

With a crisp "clink," the whistle landed steadily on the black velvet tabletop.

It was an unusual bone whistle.

Its entire body was an unsettling, pale white, as if it had been polished from the finger bones of some high-level humanoid creature.

On the surface of the whistle, a lifelike, jet-black raven, seemingly ready to take flight at any moment, is carved with an extremely delicate yet wicked technique.

Two tiny rubies were set in the raven's eyes, gleaming with a bloodthirsty light.

The woman pointed to the bone whistle on the table and said in an unquestionable, commanding tone:

"As final compensation for destroying my puppet body and for the unpaid divination fees."

From this day forward, Sirren will act as my secular representative in Saint Laurent.

"You must do three things for me unconditionally until I have fully restored my true, desired physical body."

"If there's anything I need you to do, I'll let you know with a whistle."

Similarly, if you have completed the tasks I have assigned, you may also blow this bone whistle to notify me.

Lund stared at the bone whistle on the table, which emanated an ominous aura, his expression shifting unpredictably.

He gritted his teeth, attempting a final struggle: "Your Excellency, do we have any other choice but to become your agents and handle those three unknown matters?"

The woman glanced at him: "No."

Lund knew that in the face of absolute power, any resistance was futile.

He closed his eyes and nodded with difficulty: "Alright, I promise you."

Hearing Lund yield, the woman nodded in satisfaction.

"Alright, the contract is established."

"Listen carefully, my first condition is very simple."

The woman's voice seemed to drift from the depths of hell: "Three months from now, Saint Laurent City will open up that sealed snow mountain wonderland."

Deep within the snow-capped mountains, there grows a serene snow lotus on a frozen lake.

"Once you're inside, whatever the cost, bring me that snow lotus intact."

"This is the first thing I want you to do."

After she finished speaking, she seemed to be preparing to leave.

She slowly stood up, her long, slender legs faintly visible beneath her black robe.

Before leaving, she warned, "Unless you accomplish what I asked you to do, never blow this bone whistle unless it is a matter of life and death."

I'm usually very busy, and I don't like being disturbed.

"Speak."

As soon as she finished speaking, the woman slowly turned around.

To the utter shock of Xilun and Lund, her graceful figure collapsed in an instant, transforming into a vast expanse of dense, impenetrable black shadow.

Immediately afterwards, the dark shape rapidly contracted.

Accompanied by a "fluttering" sound, a large crow with scarlet eyes slowly rose from the shadows.

The crow circled once in mid-air and used its claws to precisely sweep away all the scattered tarot cards on the table.

Then, it let out a mournful cry, like a black lightning bolt, soaring into the sky.

In the blink of an eye, the crow vanished into the gloomy sky without a trace.

The surrounding space returned to deathly silence.

Only after the woman disappeared did Xilun feel the oppressive feeling that had been nagging at him completely dissipate.

His legs went weak and he almost fell to the ground.

He walked to the table, looked at the empty surface, took a deep breath, and picked up the bone whistle carved with a raven.

The touch of the finger bones was icy cold, as if holding a piece of ancient ice.

Lund stood to the side, his gaze sweeping across the ground where the woman had just sat, like a hawk's, and then carefully sensing the surrounding space.

He was horrified to discover that the woman had not only vanished without a trace, but had not even left behind a trace of her spirit.

What puzzled him even more was that, despite the intense confrontation they had just had here, none of the patients and their families passing by on the grass, who were so close, had heard their conversation or even noticed anything unusual.

It was as if... they had just been forcibly pulled into a separate spatial interlayer!

"This is simply unbelievable..."

Lund muttered to himself, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead.

He turned his head, looked at Xilen who was clutching the bone whistle tightly, and said thoughtfully:

"It seems that this gentleman's true strength is even more formidable than I imagined."

Such methods of distorting space and perception are absolutely beyond the capabilities of a fourth-tier demon hunter.

Lund sighed, shifting his gaze from the bone whistle to Xiren's face, which was contorted with shock and anger.

"You said you wanted to come out for some fresh air, what are you going to do?"

Xiren tucked the bone whistle into his inner pocket, the cold touch a constant reminder of the sword of Damocles hanging over his head.

He swallowed hard, his voice a little hoarse, and replied, "I was originally... planning to have lunch at the cafeteria in front."

Lund patted Xiren on the shoulder, and the warm, comforting touch of his broad hand was reassuring.

"Let's go together, I'm a little hungry too."

Lund looked into Xiren's eyes, his tone becoming more serious than ever before.

"While we're eating, tell me the whole story. What exactly happened between you and this terrifying woman...?"

……

The air in the cafeteria was surprisingly fresh, and the exhaust fans rotated slowly in the dome, drawing away the pungent smell of disinfectant.

Most of the people coming and going were wearing pure white hospital gowns, with a few nurses occasionally appearing in a hurry.

Siren and Lund sat facing each other at a stainless steel dining table.

The plates were filled with large pieces of roasted meat and rich borscht, but neither of them touched their forks.

Xilun's lips moved slightly as he recounted in a very low voice everything that had just happened in the pavilion, as well as the strange prophecies left by the woman.

As Lund listened, his weathered eyes narrowed slightly, a complex light flickering deep within them.

He didn't interrupt immediately, but nodded slightly from time to time as Xiren spoke.

The exchange ended after a short while.

The crisp sounds of the surrounding tableware clattering together seemed to be shut out by an invisible barrier at this moment.

Lund picked up the water glass on the table, but didn't drink it; he simply felt the warmth emanating from the glass.

"It seems that woman was indeed the one I was thinking of."

Xiren frowned slightly and leaned forward a little: "Who exactly is she?"

Lund took a deep breath, put down the water glass, and lowered his voice as if afraid of disturbing some being in the void.

"My understanding is incomplete; it's just snippets I've glimpsed in the church's secret records."

Based on my deduction, she should be one of the three great ravens of the "Raven School."

"The Raven School?" Siren murmured the name.

"That was an extremely large force, lurking in the shadows of history."

Lund spoke calmly, but his tone revealed an undisguised apprehension: "Its foundation is unfathomable, almost comparable to the power of the dukes who hold heavy military power in the empire, or even the princes with royal blood."

Within the entire Victorian Empire, this was undoubtedly one of the top-tier powers.

Xilun's heart sank slightly.

Being able to rival the Duke means that the resources and number of strong individuals the Duke possesses are far beyond what a small organization like the Daewoo Gym or the Iron Cross Club can compete with.

"As the highest authority of the entire school—one of the three great crows, that woman's power is naturally unfathomable."

As you just saw, even space and perception can be distorted at will.

Lund shook his head, his gaze becoming even more profound.

"But what is even more astonishing than her terrifying martial prowess is her almost supernatural precognitive ability."

Legend has it that this woman, known as "Black Crow," can make prophecies and see through the fog of the future.

"Can prophecies really be completely accurate?" Xiren clenched his fist, his knuckles turning slightly white. He recalled the woman's precise probing into his origins.

"She made many prophecies about the rise and fall of empires and the fate of extraordinary individuals, and they all came true."

Lund looked directly into Xiren's eyes. "There are rumors that she has lived for five hundred years."

Over the long years, very few people knew her true face, because most of those who had seen her face had already turned to dust.

Xilun remained silent.

Five hundred years.

This is a number that could drive any mortal to despair.

In this era, even powerful third-order mutants only live for twenty or thirty years longer than ordinary people.

Living to 120 years old is considered a very long life.

"People like that wouldn't stoop to lying to us."

Lund exhaled a breath of stale air and leaned heavily back in his chair.

"Since the contract has already been made, there's no way to escape it."

Three months later in the Snow Mountain Wonderland, you must find the tranquil snow lotus she needs.

Otherwise, given the means by which it exists, the consequences could be extremely dangerous.

At this point, Lund's brows furrowed deeply, and a hint of helplessness flashed in his eyes.

"Unfortunately, the Snow Mountain Wonderland is restricted by the church's rules, and I cannot enter it."

The road ahead is one you must walk alone.

Siren nodded silently and cut the roast meat on his plate.

"You must be careful," Lund warned earnestly. "Although the Snow Mountain Wonderland is restricted to those under thirty, that doesn't mean it's safe."

On the contrary, behind those young people are intricate webs of interests among various powerful forces, nobles, and clubs.

Lund looked at Xiren's calm face and continued to analyze the situation.

"As the champion of this preliminary competition, you are like a torch in the dark, destined to attract attention. Countless eyes are watching you in the shadows."

"Although you defeated Rose in the ring and demonstrated amazing strength."

But anyone with eyes can see that the difference in strength between you is actually not that great.

Lund tapped his fingers lightly on the table, making a dull sound.

"Individual bravery often appears pale when faced with systematic suppression."

If you don't improve within these three months, you'll likely find it difficult to achieve anything when facing a combined attack from multiple forces in the Mysterious Realm.

Xilun nodded slightly and swallowed the last piece of roasted meat.

His eyes showed no fear, but rather a steely coldness.

After saying goodbye to Lund, Xiren walked out of the hospital alone.

The sky was overcast with dark clouds, and the whistle of a steam train echoed over the distant downtown area.

Since the woman known as the Raven God was such a powerful prophet, Siron couldn't help but begin to recall the two prophecies she had left behind.

The first one was about his life, asking him to go to a nearby cinema to watch a movie at noon tomorrow.

The second one concerns a partner, with the prophecy claiming that the clue lies hidden in the copy of "Wuthering Heights" that he had just tossed aside.

He hailed a taxi and headed to the largest public library in Saint Laurent.

The library was dimly lit, and towering oak bookshelves were filled with ancient books that smelled musty.

Siren found a well-preserved copy of Wuthering Heights in the corner.

He sat by the window and, in the dim light of day, read the book carefully from beginning to end.

Time passed by, and the sky outside gradually darkened.

When he turned the last page, Xiren closed the book, crossed his hands and rested them on his chin, lost in deep thought.

Is your partner's clue hidden here?

He carefully analyzed every character and every emotional entanglement in the book.

But he soon realized that he might not be able to get any concrete information from it at all.

Because there are just too many misleading points.

Assuming the black-robed woman's prophecy is entirely correct, then the metaphors in this book can be interpreted in countless different ways.

Perhaps the prophecy was a suggestion that he was the humiliated Heathcliff.

This means that his future partner will be like Catherine, unable to overcome the class divide and ultimately choosing to leave him and betray him, leading him to madness and a lonely old age.

Or perhaps, I am Linton, who appears weak but holds a position of power.

It implies that you will achieve great success through extraordinary means in the future, and after gaining power and wealth, you will attract a vain and hypocritical woman who only loves money and status.

Or, there might be a third or fourth possibility.

Regardless of the interpretation, this book, filled with betrayal, revenge, and class oppression, seems to depict the future of emotions as extremely pessimistic and hopeless.

Xilun rubbed his throbbing temples and sighed deeply.

If the space for interpretation is too large, it is equivalent to having no interpretation at all.