Chapter 134: Evolved from a Pest into a Dog |
Reins, West District, in front of the Theater.
A hired carriage clattered to a stop.
Falson jumped down from the carriage, holding the business card Samuel had given him, and stood before the newly built theater. He looked up at the tall, ornate building, his mouth slightly open, clearly a little stunned.
"This…"
It was his first day on the job, and he’d put on his best clothes. Coupled with the face he’d been slowly regaining since becoming a Navigator, he finally felt a little aristocratic.
Though he was merely an illegitimate son and never truly had the bearing of the noble class.
Still, standing before a theater personally sponsored by the Fifth Prince Allenay, he felt a touch outclassed.
What met his eyes were gothic-like soaring spires, decorative battlements, engaged columns, and broad expanses of windows.
It was tall, as tall as five or six stories, a rare “high building” for this era.
A massive portico faced Falson directly.
At that moment, the carriage’s rear compartment curtain was drawn aside.
A woman with some wrinkles on her face peered out the window, also taking in the theater.
She looked in her thirties, close to forty, with features that could be called pretty, and clearly skilled at makeup.
She wore a finely made velvet dress, gloves, and a hat, with makeup that could barely conceal the faint lines at the edges of her face.
She was Falson’s mother, Mrs. Burroughs.
As the woman Mr. Burroughs had taken on outside his formal marriage, she originally had no reason to take his surname.
But after Mr. Burroughs lost his fortune, for some reason this lady chose to adopt his surname.
That decision angered Mr. Burroughs’ lawful wife, who saw it as the mistress trying to overreach, and thus treated this Mrs. Burroughs very poorly, even refusing to be called “Madam Burroughs” or “Lady” by others.
Mrs. Burroughs had heard her son had found work at a theater recently, a theater personally funded by the Fifth Prince, so she wanted to come along and see it.
This was a prince, after all, from the noble Odius line.
For fallen nobles who had lost their title like them, there was no right to approach such people.
You didn’t need to rely on scraps from the prince’s fingernails—simply collecting some dust from where he walked might net you a small profit.
That was an exaggeration, but the general idea was not far off.
Mrs. Burroughs’ gaze flicked between Falson and the theater, guilt barely hidden beneath her eyes.
She clearly knew what Falson had been hoarding money for, but her own situation was special…
While Mrs. Burroughs sat in the carriage watching, someone walked out of the theater.
It was Samuel, relaxed in posture and without any airs.
"You told your family?" Samuel greeted with a smile. "You might be spending less time at home from now on. Would you like to give them a formal farewell?"
"Yes, I told them," Falson nodded. "A formal goodbye isn’t necessary. I was often away on trips before, sometimes for a month or two at a time."
"Actually…" Falson’s tone shifted as he began to explain, but Samuel interrupted.
"You mean you want someone to pick you up so you don’t have to come home yourself?" Samuel had seen through his thought.
"Yes." Falson answered plainly.
"Heh." Samuel chuckled softly. "That won’t do."
"I have a feeling there will be something interesting to see today, so I came to look."
If Samuel had one thing he was not good at, it was divination and prophecy.
Although he seemed to possess many abilities, he was only a half-baked amateur at predicting the future.
Still, even if he was poor at formal divination, his innate intuition was reliable.
When he said he felt something interesting would happen today, it meant something interesting would indeed happen.
At least, when dealing with events that lacked interference from peers, his gut felt little different from prophecy.
The carriage door opened, and Mrs. Burroughs stepped down, lifting her skirt, her smile slightly rehearsed as she came up behind Falson.
She tried her best to mimic a true aristocrat, but it was obvious she failed.
Hearing the footsteps behind him, Falson quickly glanced back, then turned to Samuel again.
"Let me introduce you. This is my mother. You can just call her Mrs. Burroughs," Falson immediately introduced.
Then he said to his mother, "Mother, this is Mr. Gavries I told you about."
Samuel shifted his gaze to Mrs. Burroughs.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Burroughs," he greeted gently.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Gavries," Mrs. Burroughs returned, deliberately graceful in her movements.
Samuel didn’t need to open player vision to recognize something off about her manner.
But Samuel not caring about someone’s social grace didn’t mean he lacked emotional intelligence. Some things, he chose not to comment on in public.
It wasn’t particularly entertaining for him, and it offered no benefit.
Besides, he had a stronger premonition of something more interesting.
"Would you like a tour?" Samuel asked with a smile.
"It would be my honor," Mrs. Burroughs maintained her affected elegance.
Samuel’s smile lifted a little more. He stepped aside to make a path, gesturing an invitation.
The three of them entered the theater, and the interior dazzled in deep reds, golds, and creamy tones.
Gilded decorations, delicate plaster reliefs, and large crystal chandeliers adorned the walls.
There were potted plants, murals, and other decorative elements everywhere.
"Not bad, right?" Samuel seemed genuinely pleased as he pointed things out to Falson.
He commented on the decorations and the murals, offering a sentence or two about nearly each element.
He looked up at a chandelier and clicked his tongue.
"Who installed this chandelier?" Samuel muttered.
Despite having died so many times, the first death still affected him the most.
That chandelier had nearly become his nemesis.
If Samuel were a cultivator, his inner demon would surely be a massive chandelier demon.
"This definitely must be Evina’s design. I’ll hang it up for her later," Samuel muttered so quietly others couldn’t hear.
He shook his head a moment later.
"Well… forget it," Samuel abandoned his intended punishment. "Better not. If I actually hung it up, she’d probably be ecstatic."
He put his smile back on and continued to lead the way.
They moved deeper, past the foyer into the auditorium.
The auditorium took a classic horseshoe shape, a design ensuring a good view of the stage from every angle.
The seating was divided into four tiers: the main stalls on the first and second levels, the balcony on the third, the upper balcony on the fourth, and the topmost gallery on the fifth.
The stage was the visual center, festooned in the most lavish decoration. The royal box sat in the best position at the sides.
Layer upon layer of private boxes lined the horseshoe-shaped walls, forming an elegant curve and decorated with columns, pendant ornaments, and so on.
As Samuel introduced features, he watched the two for their reactions.
Soon, he had a clearer idea of their state of mind.
"Heh." He chuckled lightly, though neither Falson nor Mrs. Burroughs knew the reason and merely assumed he was in a good mood.
"You come here." Samuel waved, summoning an attendant standing nearby.
This attendant had originally been a destitute person from the East District, but after a few days of training at the theater he’d taken on a proper air.
With some makeup, it was impossible to tell that just days before he had been almost a homeless person.
"Show Mrs. Burroughs around," Samuel quietly instructed.
Then he told Falson, "Let your mother explore on her own. You’re starting your job now."
"Yes, sir." The attendant bowed slightly and approached Mrs. Burroughs. "Madam, please follow me."
"Very well," Mrs. Burroughs smiled and nodded.
Falson bowed slightly to show he understood.
He knew today was his first day of work, not merely a visit.
Samuel’s willingness to give him a tour stemmed from spending a week with him recently.
Samuel could act nice, but he wasn’t foolish about reading social cues.
"Over here."
Samuel put his hands behind his back and walked off in another direction.
Falson followed Samuel.
"By the way," Samuel suddenly said, "I remember you said you want money because of your mother, right?"
"Yes," Falson’s tone lowered, "Mr. Burroughs, my father, never treated my mother with much respect. He treated her like a mistress and his possession, barely regarding her as a person."
Samuel nodded. "I noticed."
"Your family probably treats her poorly too, right?" Samuel asked.
"Yes," Falson replied. "The real Mrs. Burroughs dislikes my mother."
"I see." Samuel nodded. "Pretty old-fashioned drama."
"Do you have any older brothers or sisters?" Samuel asked with a smile.
Falson nodded.
Samuel’s smile widened.
"So you want enough money to take her away?" Samuel pressed.
"Yes," Falson nodded, "I need enough money to give her a decent life, and also…"
He hesitated, then continued.
"My father, Mr. Burroughs, said my mother was a woman he bought. If I want to take her away, I have to pay three times that price…"
"Is that what your mother wants?" Samuel tilted his head and asked.
"…Yes…" Falson answered softly. "She… she often cries late at night."
"When I was little, she would tell me all the bad things about Mr. Burroughs, how miserable her life was."
"So I have to take her away."
"I see." Samuel smiled and nodded. "Good."
"Is it hard for your talent to earn money?" Samuel asked.
"Because…" Falson hesitated choosing his words, "I don’t just need to save the redemption money or money for our future life. I also need to support everyone in the household so they can maintain appearances…"
"Do the others in your family not earn money?" Samuel asked.
"They… still regard themselves as nobles," Falson replied.
"That’s really foolish," Samuel said with a laugh.
They walked and talked, and on the way they passed Old Stone.
Old Stone was hunched and holding a script, muttering his lines as he rehearsed.
Over this period, Old Stone had heard Evina’s theories many times.
How to put it?
He wasn’t entirely unreceptive.
Though every time he thought about it he felt a bit odd…
After all, in the East District, the slums, he’d been a despised existence.
From a bedbug evolved into a dog.
At least that qualified as a species leap.
A great success!
Old Stone wasn’t heading their way; he merely greeted them as he passed and continued on.
Soon the two arrived at the archive room and saw Celt flipping through the Travel Guide.
He sat on a sofa, leaning back, with the adorable jellyfish Sereia perched on his head.
Opening the Travel Guide, he saw that the map had many areas marked in glowing text, as if those places had been illuminated.
"Oh, that function wasn’t here before," Celt casually remarked to Sereia on his head.
Sereia twitched in response.
On the map, some of the important locations Samuel or his other avatars had visited were highlighted, showing they had "lit up the map."
Violet No.16, Continuity Church, Flora Restaurant, Mr. Pride’s gathering.
"The name of that gathering is so perfunctory…" Celt chuckled as he flipped a page.
Turning another page revealed a second map.
It was the small map of Liant Town, also lit up.
"Huh… Flora Restaurant counts as an important place?" Celt teased softly as he casually turned another page.
Perpetual Arboretum, Kolimon Odius’s unnamed proto-Divine Realm, Self-Resolution Abyss…
"Hm?"
He slowly formed a question mark with his expression.
Wait, bro?
How did you get a tracemap of someone’s proto-Divine Realm?
Celt bent over to inspect it more carefully.
The maps were moving.
They were actually moving!
This thing updated in real time?
Celt thought of the Law Contemplator’s second stage being called "Canonical" and how much weaker that was compared to a Law Inscriber.
He looked at the Travel Guide in his hands.
No way, you’re supposed to be on the same level as them, right?
This is a bit ridiculous.
The pattern on the page suddenly spread to both sides, revealing an empty patch in front of Celt.
In the empty space, a thumbprint was rapidly drawn.
A line of small text appeared beside it.
"Isn’t this awesome, book bro?"
"Badass."
Squeak.
The door opened as Samuel led Falson inside.