Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Charlotte leaned in and whispered in his ear.

Whether you know it or not, it all comes down to reality. If you can unveil the truth, some sacrifices are acceptable. She used to make such choices.

With a flick of her fingertips, she gently placed her hand on Melissant's shoulder, and Melissant, in turn, casually wrapped her arms around Charlotte's slender waist. The two were of similar height, just like dance partners who had been dancing together for a long time.

With a gentle turn and a few graceful steps, without any lip-reading or ambiguous gestures, they simply swam in the lake with others, their perfect dance steps and beautiful figures complementing each other.

Such a beautiful couple naturally attracted the attention of most onlookers. Whether it was a tacit understanding or a meeting of minds, the previously assertive beauty, after taking hold of the flower branch she had been dreaming of, restrained herself and simply wrapped her arms around Charlotte's waist, held her hand, and slowly enjoyed this romantic pleasure together, following the former's dance steps.

“You’ve changed quite a bit in just a few days.” As the music drew to a close, Melissant lowered her eyelashes and whispered. “Back then, you didn’t dare look at me like that.”

"Really? How did we meet before, and what did I think of you?"

Without dodging or avoiding, the light gold flower clusters intertwine with the deep blue roses.

"A chance encounter, a commission, and mutual consent. As for the latter, he is mischievous, capricious, resentful, and has a flame of revenge in his eyes."

It was still a soft whisper that only the two of them could hear.

"So, what should I do now?"

"purely."

"purely?"

"Yes, your eyes are very pure now."

Melissant gently raised her left hand, causing Charlotte to twirl gracefully, her skirt trailing like a black silk shadow, her slender heels making a crisp, bright sound on the mirror-like parquet floor. Amidst the flowing music and the wind, the two were brought back together.

This time, Charlotte and Melissant faced the same side. Charlotte leaned her shoulder against Melissant, who lowered her head and breathed her warm breath against Charlotte's ear.

she says:

"You are carefree because of the mask you wear, you are mischievous because of your nature, you are resentful because of the teasing you did back then, and although you turn your head away and try to pretend to be ignorant, I can see it."

“You were dissatisfied with my domineering attitude, dissatisfied with the passive situation you couldn’t reverse at that time, so you adorably rebelled, just like this—”

With a gentle kiss, Melissant left a shallow bite mark on Charlotte's earlobe, a long-awaited repayment.

Indeed, for whatever reason, Melissant did see her true face through the veil, a fact that is now undeniable.

The coachman whipped the galloping steed, while the musician played a melodious tune, its notes rising and falling like the tides. Charlotte then asked, "Since you've seen through it, why is it so pure now?"

Amused by these words, the blue-haired beauty's smile grew even gentler, and she said:

"Because you are different."

"It is often said that children are innocent, but this innocence stems from ignorance. The purity gained from ignorance will gradually be eroded as one grows up, just like a blank sheet of paper being painted with complicated colors. These colors may not be ugly, but it has definitely lost the beauty of pure white. But you are different. Your heart is pure. You wander with your nature, chasing after fun and companionship, without hesitation or confusion, as pure as a toddler taking its first steps."

Charlotte did not respond, and Melissant did not care.

"I thought I saw a child running around in the white snow, chasing a golden butterfly. How innocent and cute! There are so few people like that now."

Dark hair fell down from the side of her face, and her dark golden eyes were watery, as if they held two hazy moonlight.

"So, I helped her fulfill her wish, turning all the injustices into perfection. The kind-hearted girl died in the oppression of the powerful and wealthy, and in the midst of the crowd's adoration. She used her vibrant life to exchange for a just law, for people's gratitude and admiration, and for her own rebirth. What a moving tragedy, what an unrealistic fairy tale. What do you think?"

This wasn't a lie; she was genuinely telling the truth, praising the scene. The deep emotion in her words seemed to truly bring the scene to life, watching the running children leave footprints in the snow, slowly extending, shallow, and finally being filled by the white snow.

"Although Cliff is a man who deserves to die, and although this opera borrowed your script at the last minute, it still took me a lot of effort. Mischievous little hedgehog, even though you are innocent and adorable enough to make me love you, there is always a price to pay for getting what you want. Miss Earl, you've had your fun, so it's time to find yourself a home. Would you be interested in dancing with me again?"

The words were spoken, the invitation arrived, but the gentle melody of the zither faded away, and the ball had already ended.

As the lighthearted closing melody played, the violinists and cellists of the second-floor band were finally able to put down their aching arms and take a short break, with a pianist temporarily taking over their duties.

The guests and dancers on the dance floor also stopped their swaying steps. They smiled at their partners, kissed the back of their hands, and retreated with regret, just as Charlotte should have done.

But she stopped abruptly, her right leg arching back like a drowning butterfly, slowly sinking into the fragrant embrace of the beautiful woman.

If such an explanation exists, then the previously questioned coincidences have a basis. Under the extraordinary influence of the situation, the change in perception is still reasonable. The laws of Tingen are determined by the local governor, so changing the script is naturally not a difficult problem for an extraordinary person in a high position.

But if she does that, wouldn't she always be receiving favors and kindness from others, just like Miss Watson giving alms to the birds?

It's really annoying, but—

Charlotte raised her thin lips and gave a gentle smile, this time clearly an expression of pleasure.

She nodded slightly and simply said:

"Thank you for your kindness, but I don't remember some things very clearly. The only thing I'm sure of is that we're not acquainted. It's quite frightening that you can know so much from such a short and unfriendly encounter. Perhaps, Ms. Melissand, you'd be better off as a wandering gypsy, riding in a white-canopied carriage, carrying tarot cards and an accordion to divine your fate and roam the world."

But she can choose not to admit it.

Chapter Ninety-Two: Joining the Enlightenment Society?

As the music faded and the cheers subsided, Miss O'Shaw's questioning did not dampen the beauty's spirits. She merely smiled and exerted a slight force, tightening her grip on Charlotte's slender waist, forcing Charlotte to tilt her pretty face back, revealing her fair, white neck.

A soft, thin sound escaped her crimson lips as she asked:

"If I were willing to wander the world and become a homeless Gypsy, would you be willing to be the woman by my side, playing the violin and arranging the instruments?"

Melissant's voice carried a strange seductive quality, as if as long as the person being asked gave an affirmative answer, they would unconsciously agree and wholeheartedly follow and obey.

"Forcing others is a form of undignified harassment, madam."

The spiritual turmoil brought Charlotte back to her senses. She loosened her clasped fingers and let her body sink, like a swan with broken wings, crashing onto the cold, hard floor.

She did it on purpose.

In an instant, all eyes of the audience were focused on her, as if all the spotlights were shining on her. They marveled, they felt sorry, and they secretly admired the unattainable Messiah who had fallen to earth.

But the angel did not fall.

The power of the law became increasingly evident under everyone's gaze. It overshadowed the momentary inducement, bringing clarity to her mind. As her light golden hair fluttered, Charlotte danced on tiptoe like a swan spreading its wings, unfurling her black silk skirt and scattering dark floral ripples on the ground.

Moonlight, dance floor, a person who has finished dancing.

No longer so close, she moved with a few hesitant steps, like a partner who had a tiff, looking at each other across the stage from opposite ends, a stray hair falling on her collarbone like a reed bent by the wind.

Faced with Charlotte's calm and indifferent gaze, Melissant did not get annoyed, but simply smiled gently. She clasped her hands together and generously applauded Charlotte's solo performance.

At the same moment, a storm of cheers erupted from the audience; it was the grand finale, the kind of applause that any audience member should give.

Across the rows of couples, across the dazzling lights, the melancholy Lilac slightly lifted her skirt, turned her face away, leaving only a thin, pursed lip visible.

"I hate deception, and I hate unequal lies even more."

"it is good."

As she gracefully walked down the stage, the rose Watson had tucked into her hair was still fresh, and Melissant placed it behind Charlotte's ear once more.

“I can tell you a lot, but Charlotte, well, let’s just call you that now, everything comes at a price, it depends on how much you’re willing to pay.”

The blue-haired beauty summoned her attendant, gave a few instructions, and then led Charlotte to a side room.

The interior is not luxuriously furnished, with two soft armchairs, a glass coffee table, and several layers of purple gauze curtains separating the adjacent spaces, leaving only the lanterns to emit a hazy glow, adding a romantic atmosphere.

As the incense was lit, a servant in the courtyard drew back the curtains and bowed to bring over a finely crafted cake, which Melissant then swiped with a smile and handed to Charlotte.

"Sit down. This is the creamy sponge you were so keen on a few days ago. I added less cream to make it taste better. I remember back then, you playfully called yourself my little cotton-padded jacket."

"Madam, constantly telling other people's stories can make you disliked."

Without admitting it or making excuses, Charlotte scooped up a spoonful, put it to her lips, and enjoyed the taste that was neither too sweet nor too greasy. Just as the beauty said, this little cake was indeed very much to her liking, to the point that her gaze towards the former softened a little.

"Indeed, after all, that detective has left this land, and it's time to bring the story of seeking justice to a close."

It was a sigh tinged with regret.

Spring tides swelled, washing the green duckweed in the fields. At the nearby window, a blonde beauty straightened her back, leaning slightly against the back of her chair, sometimes putting down her knife and fork, sometimes sipping hot tea. Her fingers were long and fair, with slightly bluish knuckles. Every time she gently rubbed the handle of her cup, a soft rustling sound was heard.

This is a beauty unlike any other doll, a dignified and mature elegance.

"Although you may have forgotten, I did have a brief acquaintance with Miss O'Shaw. However, at that time you were arrogant and haughty, self-important but unremarkable, and no different from an ordinary face."

Charlotte remained silent. She had no intention of seeking justice for her predecessor, and in fact, deep down, she quite agreed with Melissant's words. However, unlike Melissant, she wouldn't let go of the past. She was someone who appreciated beauty, and the self-pity of a teenage girl wasn't necessarily uninteresting, just like the little peacock in the beginning.

Of course, this is all predicated on the premise that one is good-looking.

So, in the same small room, if you don't speak, she will confide in you; if you enjoy sweets, she will quietly watch you move your lips, revealing a slightly silly expression, and smile without saying a word.

After taking the last bite of the soft cake, Charlotte finally wiped away the crumbs and looked up at the blue-haired beauty.

Her voice remained flat.

"How did you recognize me?"

Undeniably, when words are full of implicit reminders, even she herself would find it difficult to pretend not to know. Moreover, given her inability to clarify things with Ms. Mossan, she did indeed need some extraordinary assistance, even from the not-so-friendly Mélisande.

“The spirit is the rising cloud, and the flesh is the foundation. O'Shaw was once just an ordinary man, but your spirit is like the bright moon rising from the sea, clear and boundless, captivating the eye. Of course, even the extraordinary can hardly distinguish between them when separated by a barrier. Unless one crosses the steps, ascends to a higher altitude, and possesses a special perspective.”

Without any boasting, the blue-haired beauty stated the truth and explained the ways of the world with exceptional composure.

"So, you noticed the difference? So, anyone who has seen both me and that detective can see the similarities and discern the clues, just like you?"

Charlotte frowned slightly, her mood not quite right; if that were the case, the risks of playing a role would increase dramatically.

The separated spirits bear indelible marks. If the connection between the puppet and the original body is too close, and if both are seen through by the extraordinary beings above, then exposure is inevitable; it is only a matter of time.

She could neither abandon them nor ignore them, nor could she remain a bystander and actively stir up the birds' memories, watching them express their sorrow and struggle in pain.

This was devastating news for Charlotte, for a player who indulged in worldly pleasures. It meant the end of her carefree ways, a heavier price to pay, and the added burden of responsibility.

As if hearing the unspoken sigh from the former, Melissant reached out and gently cupped Charlotte's face, stroking it tenderly as if it were a precious treasure, slowly moving upwards along her cheek.

She said, "No."

"I didn't see any similarity, which is simply due to the special nature of the route. In some ways, you're right, I am indeed suited to be a wandering Gypsy, because—"

The dark gold eyes cracked open, revealing the cold, sharp vertical pupils of a scaly serpent. In an instant, murmurs and delirium, like restless fires, shook the rationality that had been held.

"I am a 'snake'."

In myths passed down through the ages, different animals have special meanings, and the snake is an indispensable element in many legends. It naturally implies mystery, and each time it sheds its skin, it symbolizes rebirth and transformation.

However, Charlotte had never believed in such things, and the delusional words she heard were like a gentle breeze, unable to shake her mind in the slightest.

Resting her head on her arm, she looked down at Melissant, her dark blue eyes hidden beneath her hair, radiating a gentle, emerald light. Her posture was that of a curious person full of anticipation.

"Since Ms. Melissand has said so, should I also adopt an animal as my code name, such as an eagle? After all, a soaring eagle can always catch a slow-moving snake."

However, unlike her gentle demeanor, the blonde beauty's lips betrayed a blatant meanness.

"Of course, I never mind the little birds pecking."

Upon hearing this, Melissant casually raised her knuckles, loosening and gradually clenching them, displaying a confident demeanor.

“Mozanne Ludwig was not a qualified teacher. She failed to teach you what the difference between sequences is, and which path of extraordinary individuals is the most dangerous. Those brutes who wield strength in vain are certainly frightening, but with just a gentle nudge, contradictions and conflicts will lead them into the abyss, just like the late Earl Clift.”

"Perhaps, until he is buried under people's stones and spittle, he will not know who really killed him. Such is the fate of the foolish."

So, is "snake" a sequence name that is dominant in a certain way?

Having heard this, Charlotte could naturally deduce the answer; however, Melissant still hadn't answered her first question.

Perhaps sensing the meaning in that gaze, the blue-haired beauty curled her lips into a smile. She gently touched Charlotte's wrist and whispered, pointing to the lines running down her palm.

"Everyone has their own destiny. Although that detective is different from you, the fact that you share the same origin is the best proof. You don't need to worry too much. It's not my thing to show off my beloved things to the public. Even if there is a difference in sequence, it would be difficult for ordinary extraordinary beings to see who is behind the puppet."

"It begins with extraordinary abilities, but it's virtually impossible to see through the puppets rooted in science and technology; this is a barrier between different paths. Of course, I don't recommend you visit that Ludwig again. Even though there are differences, the separated spirit and the original spirit can still be traced, and there's no guarantee that it won't be exposed. After all, Ms. Mossant is also a difficult problem for me to deal with."

As the former said, even if Melissant hadn't mentioned it, Charlotte wouldn't have intended to go to Ms. Mossant. While she was indeed gentle and considerate, and kind to others, that patience and warmth were only for Watson, for that nimble little colt. If she had known that it was all a deception from the beginning and that there was no sincerity involved, it's hard to imagine what would have happened.

Detention, imprisonment, torture, etc.?

Please spare her. Miss O'Shaw is just a single girl who likes to be loved but doesn't like to take responsibility. She's just a fragile newcomer who has just embarked on an extraordinary journey.

While she couldn't take everything he said at face value, there were some valid points. At least, it could soothe her heart. If the birds had seen through her disguise so easily, she might have faced all sorts of treatment.

That was all that could be said. Charlotte's inner confusion resurfaced. If the puppets were extraordinary creations, then as a type of technology, they should have attracted the covetousness of others, just like what Cliff had done before.

“Ms. Melissant, is it possible to have multiple paths in different bodies? If you wish, I am willing to share all the knowledge my mother taught me with you.”

This can be seen as a frank statement, or it can be seen as a deliberate question. In the current situation, taking the initiative to plead one's case can actually win one the right to speak.

However, upon hearing Charlotte's willing words, Melissant glanced at her with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

Her delicate eyebrows relaxed, she shook her head, and chuckled softly:

"No matter how many faces one can develop, as a human being, the foundation of the spirit is always limited. Incorporating multiple pathways will only allow the multiple characteristics to contaminate oneself and accelerate the process of losing control. Ordinary puppetry is also unnecessary for extraordinary individuals; they have many ways to substitute for each other to achieve similar effects. Hmm, it might be useful as a bomb."

According to him, if the O'Shaw family's puppets can only approach the level of ordinary people, then they are indeed not very useful to extraordinary beings.

Before she could finish speaking, before her thoughts had even settled, the blue-haired beauty began to speak again.

"Since you have chosen to be an arbitrator, you can only go all the way down this path. Of course, if you reach the middle way, there is still a chance to change course, but that will come at a very heavy price."