I'm a proper student; I only take nine kinds of potions every day.

In the sunlight, the girls' eyes sparkled, and when they looked at the young men beside them, their pupils were flawless.

Every time she looked up, looked down, pursed her lips, or smiled, the timing was so precise it was as if a clock had been turned.

Ivan pulled his hat down low to cover his hair.

Without making a sound, he put his hands together, bent his knuckles into a cylinder, and held it up to his eyes.

It looks like a child playing with a telescope.

With this action, he silently activated his Demon Hunter Vision.

Contrary to Evan's expectations, the area, despite its dense population, did not contain the various superhumans he had anticipated.

Aside from the usual heat and smell, Evan only detected two extraordinary forces.

One of them was the "happy family of four" not far away, looking quite content.

The father was dressed in a respectable gray three-piece suit, the mother was holding his arm, and the two children were jumping around in front of them.

A typical scene of middle-class people going on a weekend trip.

But in Evan's view, a purple aura that made people extremely uneasy was slowly emanating from the seven orifices of this family of four.

That was not some kind of additional contamination.

It emanates from within their bodies; they themselves naturally exude this aura.

Ivan made the decision instantly.

None of the four members of that family were human.

He forced his gaze away from the family of four and refocused it on the Phoenix Brotherhood.

There was nothing unusual about the young men in suits.

The problem lies with the girls around them.

Five of the six girls were enveloped in a faint pink mist.

The mist was slowly exhaled from their nostrils and then gracefully inhaled by their lips.

It repeats itself endlessly, like a living, automatically maintained cycle.

There was only one girl with the most ordinary appearance and the shortest stature, who did not have that pink misty aura at all.

"The Curse of Desire"

The old witcher's deep voice echoed in Evan's mind.

The sound seemed to be coming from deep within the campfire.

"Cultists on the path of the Holy Grail are adept at manipulating human desires."

"Its fundamental ability is the manipulation of desires, allowing it to freely control the desires within a single target. Shrinking, enlarging, distorting, reversing..."

"Cultivators are relatively weak in physical combat. But they are extremely skilled in rituals, curses, and poisons."

"By manipulating the target's desires and blinding their reason, one can achieve complete control over the target."

"They only feel that they are exceptionally happy today and exceptionally want to stay by their male partner's side. They don't realize why they are happy."

"When fighting cultivators, it's best to close the distance and deliver a fatal blow! Their physical bodies aren't much different from ordinary people's."

Along with the old hunter's experience, the words on Pris's suicide note also surfaced.

Botte Alcott, president of the Brotherhood of the Phoenix, son of Henry Alcott, and a friar's apprentice.

The bullies LeBon and Thomson were just tools used to test him.

His true target was the ancestor behind him.

A rather carefree smile slowly spread across Evan's lips.

"Little beast."

He secretly thought.

"You have collected all the buffs of a boss that is destined to die."

I won't kill you.

"Even my rat blood doesn't taste good anymore."

After confirming the details of the Phoenix Brotherhood, Evan took no action.

The reason is simple.

He will not lift the curse.

As a rookie demon hunter who has just stepped into the realm of the extraordinary, his combat and survival skills may already be presentable, but his knowledge and methods related to the extraordinary are still quite lacking.

He knew none of the rituals, spell-breaking techniques, or amulets.

To rashly intervene in the curse network of an apprentice-level cultivator is tantamount to defusing a timed bomb with bare hands.

Just then, a clear and dignified voice came from the other end of the VIP passage.

"Arkham. How long have you been here?"

Ivan, still holding the binoculars in his hands, slowly turned his head.

Eldin stood behind the red velvet rope in the VIP passage, smiling at him across the narrow boundary.

She changed her outfit today.

A deep purple velvet long coat paired with a beige plaid long skirt, and a burgundy scarf around the neck loosely tied into a French bow.

Her long, black hair wasn't tied up; it hung naturally over her shoulders, with the ends slightly curled.

She wore light makeup, with blush applied just right above her cheekbones.

Her striking Western features, combined with slightly chubby cheeks, give her an extra touch of girlish cuteness in addition to her dignified appearance.

The person looked fresh, healthy, and non-aggressive in the morning light.

While his hands were still in the form of binoculars, Ivan quickly glanced at it through the gap in his palms.

Eldin, and the five attendants behind her.

Each one was clean and tidy, without any supernatural aura attached to them.

"She was very warm towards me. An ordinary noblewoman. She doesn't have any superhumans around her."

Evan quickly completed the mental check.

"It seems she really was just being used by Pris."

"Moreover, a noble lady of this caliber doesn't even have a single superhuman by her side when she goes out..."

"It seems there really aren't many extraordinary individuals who can inherit their legacy!"

"It's not that I just became a superhuman and then found superhumans everywhere."

"Tsk! Now this is what a normal world should be like!"

He quickly reverted to his demon hunter form, his golden vertical pupils fading back to their normal black, and his silver-white hair returning to jet black.

Then he lowered his hands and gave a polite smile.

"We just arrived."

He nodded slightly to Erdin.

Erdin was about to raise the corners of his mouth to say something.

A middle-aged woman wearing a beige long coat stepped out from behind her.

The woman was wearing a classic yet impeccable beige cashmere coat, with a dark brown belt cinching her waist in a clean silhouette.

Her golden hair was neatly coiled at the back of her head and secured with a tortoiseshell hair clip.

Her face was completely devoid of makeup, and a pair of thin gold-rimmed pince-nez glasses sat on her nose.

She leaned close to Elting's ear, her voice low, but Evan's powerful physique allowed him to catch every syllable.

"Miss, please don't talk to this kind of person in public."

"This will affect the Hearst family's young lady's taste and image."

Ivan sighed silently to himself.

"Life must be so tiring for young ladies from noble families."

In this era, it was absolutely impossible for unmarried noble ladies to go out alone, let alone accompany young men alone.

Once word gets out, the tea parties in high society will be in an uproar the next day.

Almost all aristocratic ladies have at least three "standard accessories" when they go out.

First: A dignified, respectable, married older woman serves as the young lady's "girlfriend" or "tutor".

Her job was to monitor the girls' words, actions, social etiquette, and the places they frequented throughout the entire process.

And they are responsible for reminding all young men who get too close to "keep their distance".

Second: A diligent and clever personal maid.

Responsible for organizing the ladies' clothes, personal jewelry, afternoon tea utensils, and daily chores.

From combing hair in the morning to making the bed at night, nothing is too small.

Third: A loyal, reliable, and capable male driver and bodyguard.

They are responsible for driving and providing transportation, and also serve as the last line of defense for safety.

At this moment, there are five people around Erdin.

The woman wearing pince-nez glasses was a private tutor.

He was accompanied by a capable maid who was of average appearance, burly build, and had a few freckles on her cheeks.

Behind her stood a robust, broad-shouldered, middle-aged man in a dark black men's suit.

The middle-aged man was accompanied by two young bodyguards, who were scanning their surroundings warily.

The square-faced middle-aged man waved to Evan, his voice not loud, but every word was clear.

"Come and get your luggage. You can change your clothes on the train later."

Before Erdin could say anything more, the female teacher with pince-nez gently pulled her wrist.

"Miss, it's getting late."

Her tone was gentle yet authoritative. Taking Erting's hand, she led her to the VIP waiting room on the second floor of the station.

Erdin glanced back at Ivan with a hint of apology in her eyes, then walked away gracefully.

"I wonder if there were any classic scenes of me, Yi Aotian, showing off and getting humiliated in the waiting room, thus winning over people's favor?"

Evan was immediately filled with anticipation.

"Should it be Horus or Guilliman?"

In the blink of an eye, his mind, which had been racing like a madman pulling out the brake pads, had even come up with names for their child.