Mystery: The Witch of Desire

Liviel nodded, temporarily relieved. She was worried that the magical item formed by the Sequence 5 Extraordinary property did not belong to Luna Bell, but to the Witch Cult behind her. If that were the case, she might be hunted down by the Witch Cult.

The thought amused Liviel; she was a chosen one who could pray for the protection of the witch cult's true god, yet she still had to worry about being hunted down by the witch cult...

After the appraisal was completed, the sophisticated woman handed over the remaining £750, after deducting the £250 appraisal fee, to Livre. Now, Livre's savings amounted to £835, 4 sous, and 11 pence.

My bank account record has been broken...

Livre thought to herself with a touch of smugness, then after a moment's thought, she took out another 30 pounds and handed it to the elegant woman:

"Could you please help me obtain another complete identity document? The kind that can be filed with the Central Archives Bureau?"

The elegant woman thought for a moment and said:

"After Redbeard left, this matter became somewhat difficult, as he was the one who contacted many informants in the police department. However, I can have Marich try to get other brokers to help."

Livre wasn't in a hurry, since she had the acting skills to evade pursuit. After sincerely thanking the elegant woman, she prepared to leave the Brave Ones Bar.

Before leaving, she felt it best to know the name of this sophisticated woman. The woman was very powerful, and they would likely cross paths again in the future. Using only a general appellation would be impolite.

She stopped and asked respectfully:

"Madam, may I know your name?"

The elegant woman remained silent for a few seconds before slowly speaking:

“You can call me Sharon.”

……

Liviel subtly altered her appearance to make herself less striking, then flagged down an early morning horse-drawn carriage on the street. After paying double the fare, the driver finally agreed to go to 79th Street in the East District, where the security and road conditions were terrible, and most horse-drawn carriages were unwilling to go there.

Upon entering the East End, Lively leaned out of the car window and saw the desolate street scenes on both sides: mottled walls, dilapidated houses, and garbage and excrement everywhere, forming a stark contrast with the nearby Jowood district.

The most representative sight in the East District were the homeless people lying by the roadside. They looked no different from the living dead, and some even slept standing up. Fortunately, they were able to escape in time when the police raided, thus avoiding being sold into slavery in the Southern Continent.

The carriage bumped along for another half hour before finally stopping at the entrance to 79th Street. Though called a street, it was really just a slightly wider alley, its entrance resembling the gaping maw of a wild beast, leading into the dark, profound distance.

"Miss, no amount of money can save me from going down this road again."

The driver, while keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings, spoke in a low voice.

Livre didn't make things difficult for the driver. She got out of the carriage and first performed a divination in a secluded corner:

"Someone is following me."

Chapter 128 Fors and Hugh's Beautiful Dream

The mirror surface was completely calm, without any ripples, which meant there was no danger.

Livre felt relieved and walked into the dark alley.

"No. 32, 79th Street, East District..."

She muttered the house numbers left in Fors and Hugh's letters and began searching house to house.

To her dismay, the chaos in the East District was indeed as rumored; the house numbers had no discernible order. For example, between the two dilapidated buildings, No. 31 and No. 33, was No. 152, which consisted of two or three newly built low shacks piled together. Then, to her surprise, she discovered that in a small patch of open space in a far-off corner, another shack with a hole in its roof had been erected, which also belonged to the No. 152 category!

Livre felt that if she didn't rely on a local to guide her, she might have to resort to divination to find Fors and Hugh.

Her gaze fell on a group of children by the street, and she chose a little boy who looked honest. He was rummaging through a pile of garbage for bottles, his face and limbs covered in black grime.

Livr walked over and looked at him with gentle eyes:

"Young gentleman, may I ask you to be my guide? I will pay you some reward."

To her surprise, the boy gave her a very polite slight bow.

"Of course, ma'am, it would be my pleasure."

Livre was taken aback, not expecting the boy to be so polite, so different from the other children who were shouting and playing.

It wasn't that she deliberately harbored subjective prejudice against other children in the East District; the East District didn't even have many decent schools, and most children simply couldn't get a good education.

She smiled slightly at the boy:

"Thank you. I need to go to 32 79th Street. Could you please show me the way?"

The boy nodded:

"Number 32 is deep in the alley, almost to 81st Street. It's very difficult to find without a local's guidance."

As the boy spoke, he slung his small burlap sack over his shoulder. The sack was filled with all sorts of recyclable trash, which weighed down his thin body, making him look like an old man with a stoop.

Livre took the sack from his back with a touch of pity and said:

"Let me help you carry it; you just lead the way."

The boy was taken aback, then became somewhat embarrassed:

"But this will get your clothes dirty."

"It's alright, lead the way,"

The boy bowed slightly again to express his gratitude, then led Livia deeper into the alley.

On the way, Livre couldn't help but ask with some curiosity:

"What's your name? How old are you?"

"My name is Jim, and I am 12 years old."

He's 12 years old, which is much older than he looks. I thought he was only 8 or 9.

Livre continued to ask:

"Have you ever been to school?"

The boy paused for a moment, then slowly said:

“I attended elementary school in Hillston for two years before.”

"Hillston District?"

Livre was somewhat surprised. That was the kingdom's financial center, a world apart from the East District. How did this little boy end up in the East District, having fallen from the bustling Hillston District?

As if sensing Livre's confusion, Jim began to tell his story:

“My father used to work for a mid-sized financial company in Hillston with a good salary, and my mother was a housewife.”

“My father bought a detached house in Hillston and took out a mortgage. With his salary, paying off the mortgage should have been no problem at all.”

"But a few years ago, my father's company went bankrupt because of a scheme orchestrated by those big bankers. He was laid off and did not receive any compensation from the company."

“My father tried desperately to find another job, but for various reasons, he ended up only finding a job with a much lower salary than before. After deducting the mortgage payments, the family’s life is already very difficult.”

"In this predicament, my mother left, taking with her the last bit of savings the family had, and eloped with an underground singer..."

As Jim spoke, he bit his lip tightly, tears streaming down his dark, youthful face.

Livre's heart sank. She had a general idea of ​​what would happen next. She gently patted Jim's shoulder, indicating that he didn't need to force himself to recall his sad memories.

But Jim seemed to have opened a floodgate of words, continuing in a sorrowful tone:

"My father couldn't bear this heavy blow and fell ill. He lost his job, the house was mortgaged and sold by the bank to pay off debts, his health collapsed, and his spirit broke down. He could no longer find a decent job, so he had no choice but to move with me to the East District and barely make a living by proofreading for a small publishing workshop..."

"I often think back to my school days, which were the happiest time of my life. I had a father, a mother, and a complete family..."

Jim's voice grew softer and softer as he spoke, and he lowered his head, gently wiping away his tears with his muddy hands.

Livr remained silent.

Originally, she would have found it ridiculous for a child to utter the word "in one's lifetime" to be so childish and pretentious.

But for Jim...

Those days were probably the happiest time of his life.

Once a social class falls, it is almost impossible to climb back up.

As for those seemingly glamorous middle-class individuals, they are essentially the same as the proletariat. They do not own the means of production and have very low resistance to disease, natural disasters, or even layoffs.

Once they suffer a setback, they may never recover and, like Jim's father, become one of the 1.35 million "underclass" in the East End.

The population of the Eastern District has remained relatively constant at 1.35 million for many years, not because too few people have moved into the Eastern District.

Rather, it's because the average life expectancy in the eastern district is simply too short.

Once you enter the East District, the harsh living conditions and intense work pressure will not give you many more years to live.

A textile worker who enters the factory has an average remaining lifespan of only three years.

For factories with more severe pollution, such as chemical plants and metallurgical plants, this number would be even lower.

Livre gently rubbed Jim's head with a touch of heartache. Due to malnutrition, his hair was already as sparse as a middle-aged man's at only 12 years old.

The atmosphere remained unusually quiet for the rest of the journey, and no one uttered a single word.

A few minutes later, Jim led Livr into an alley less than a meter wide. After wandering through the ruins of buildings that looked like remnants of a war for a long time, they finally arrived at a three-story building.

Surprisingly, this small building was the most decent building in the neighborhood, at least it had a roof that looked relatively intact, and the sound of water flowing from the pipes outside the walls indicated that the building's water system was still running.

"We've arrived, ma'am. This is 32 79th Street."

"Thank you, Jim."

Livr stroked his dark cheek and thanked him sincerely.

Then she took out a large amount of change from her pocket, totaling 3 suredos, and handed it to Jim.

She dared not give Jim large denominations of banknotes; in the law-of-the-grass East Side, that could cost him his life.

Jim took the change with trembling hands, and asked incredulously:

"Madam, are all of these for me?"

Livre said with a smile:

"Yes, be careful not to get noticed by others."

Jim happily stuffed the money into his clothes, but then a look of hesitation appeared on his face.

After a long pause, as if he had finally made up his mind, he looked at Livre and asked timidly:

"Madam, are you here to see the two ladies who live here?"

Livre paused, then nodded:

Yes. How did you know?

Jim leaned close to Livr's ear and whispered:

"Those two ladies are being watched. If you're friends with them, you'd better tell them to leave immediately!"

Livre was startled by what she heard:

"Who's watching us?"

A look of fear crossed Jim's face:

“Arles, he’s a notorious human trafficker in this area. I saw his men scouting the place yesterday… My neighbor’s daughter was abducted by him and her whereabouts are still unknown.”

Arles, that name sounds familiar...

As Livre pondered, she suddenly remembered Beatrice, whose house was on 85th Street, not far from 79th Street.

"Is the 85th Street in Arles that you mentioned also within his sphere of influence?"

Jim nodded:

"That should be true. Blocks seven and eight are both Arles' territory."

Livril's expression turned serious, and she patted Jim on the shoulder:

"I understand, thank you for telling me."

"Don't you dare reveal that I said this, or I'll die a horrible death!"

Jim whispered anxious instructions to himself as he quickly left.

Arles, you'd better have the strength of a Sequence 6 or higher...

A hint of ruthlessness flashed in Livre's charming eyes as she walked into the three-story building.

The building was crowded with residents, and she quickly spotted Fors and Hugh: their room was on the second floor, at the very back, and the drafty walls and doorway were covered with blankets and cloths to block outside sight—something only wealthy families would do. Most of the residents in the building left their doors wide open even when they slept; they had nothing of value to steal and weren't worried about being seen in an embarrassing situation.

"When the granaries are full, people know etiquette; the ancients were right."

Livre sighed and raised her hand to knock on the door. Suddenly, a wicked thought welled up in her mind. Since she started playing the witch, she seemed to have become a little 'bad' than before.