Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

That's why she followed the sound after noticing the unusual activity, even though she knew it wouldn't be easy, she still made a decisive move.

With her exceptional senses, Charlotte was able to confirm that Mr. Talon's body was still within the range of the gun, which gave her confidence and assurance.

Therefore, rather than using the derogatory term "reckless," the young woman preferred to call it—

brave.

What is presented before you is the reward for the brave.

Listening to the footsteps around her, and confirming that she wouldn't be affected in the short term, Charlotte put on white gauze gloves, took out the dagger she had obtained earlier, and deftly slashed open the man's robe.

The first thing that catches the eye is a wallet that isn't too bulky. When the clasp is opened, several banknotes of considerable value rustle as the fingers move them.

Total... twenty gold pounds?

She parted her pink lips slightly, her heart brimming with joy. Indeed, acting as a chivalrous thief was the fastest way to make money.

Ignoring the bloodstains, she continued to search inside, finding a box of cigarettes and a few leftover matches.

Besides these, there was half a tattered notebook and some miscellaneous items. Charlotte wasn't in a hurry to look through them; she simply put them in her suitcase to check them again at a more appropriate time.

Then she put the rest of the items back in their original places, and then plunged the dagger into the wounds on the man's throat and ears, cutting horizontally and vertically until the original shape was completely destroyed.

After doing all this, she wiped away the bloodstains, had Talon's intact left hand hold the dagger, creating the appearance of mutual slaughter before getting up and looking around.

Although it was initially a spur-of-the-moment decision, the girl still felt indignant upon seeing the innocent civilians being murdered, which was one of the reasons she chose to take action.

Charlotte had intended to leave, but a glance out of the corner of her eye revealed something amiss.

At some point, the green scales covering the former's body gradually dimmed, losing their luster and covering less and less area. In the end, all of the former's skin had transformed into an ordinary color.

Do the extraordinary qualities displayed by an individual fade upon the death of the individual? If so, in what form are they preserved or transformed?

Just as fallen leaves return to their roots, even after weathering and decomposition, she always believed that nothing disappears without a trace; there is always a way to trace its origin.

Just like the fist-sized grayish-white mass that gradually seeps out of the body, its surface is smooth and transparent, and its whole body is soft and textured, just like the wet eggs laid by sea fish.

Is this material dropped by elites?

Lacking information, Charlotte subconsciously recalled her experience playing Soulslike games and began to speculate and expand upon it superficially.

Even if the idea is a bit far-fetched, having an idea is better than doing nothing. In other words, Talon is like a novice instructor before going out. He is not weak, but Charlotte is a pro player who can clear the game without taking any damage.

Normally, martyrs drop the weapons they possess and the source of their power, but this wet egg clearly leans more towards the latter.

With a hint of curiosity and a touch of wariness, she touched the former with the tip of her cane.

Instantly, a deep, hoarse voice pierced Charlotte's eardrums and echoed in her mind. Following that, delirious murmurs continued to spread in the girl's mind.

In a daze, she seemed to see a dark and heavy ocean, a stagnant wave, and a pair of deep, bulging eyes.

Whether it was an illusion or reality, the girl's skin became increasingly dry and oily, with patches of green scales taking root and sprouting, covering her neck and descending downwards.

only--

"Ha, get out of the way."

With a slightly deep voice tinged with impatience, Charlotte withdrew her cane in disgust, as if brushing away dust. Her fingertips merely brushed lightly across her neck, stripping away the ambiguous sensations and the hazy murmurs from her body.

To be honest, even hearing these crazy and filthy voices didn't affect her much. It was like listening to a noisy commotion; she felt nothing but discomfort.

Secondly, these green scales are so ugly, neither elegant nor beautiful, and Charlotte doesn't want to let them replace her skin, no matter what method she takes.

Ugly rejection.

Pushing her thoughts aside, she bent her right arm and casually tossed the wet eggs into her suitcase, storing them temporarily before ignoring them.

It can be confirmed that this material does indeed possess extraordinary spirituality, and is mostly similar to the main ingredients of the potion mentioned by Ms. Mosang. If so, then she has also gained a stepping stone into the extraordinary world.

Pulling down the brim of her hat, she walked back onto the bright street, gradually changing her gait as she walked, making her demeanor and figure appear completely different.

While this might not fool the extraordinary, it's more than enough to fool ordinary eyes.

Charlotte stopped a nearby carriage, gave it a generous tip, and, grateful for the driver's profuse thanks, left the port area and headed towards the Marais district.

Out of caution, she deliberately changed trains twice along the way, making each driver's memory different and unable to deduce their destination.

During her rest, Charlotte didn't forget the half-read, tattered notebook. After making sure no one was watching her closely, she opened the first page and began to read it carefully.

The handwriting here is not square; it is crooked and has occasional breaks in the ink, making it seem as if it were written by a burly man who rarely practices calligraphy.

[Diary - Talon]

[If what Boss Bright said is true, then I just need to hunt a few more times, mimicking the hunting postures of sea fish, and I should be able to complete the ritual and advance to the next rank, 'Deepwalker'.]

[I haven't written much, but I've heard that taking notes can help with rituals, like dropping an anchor in the deep sea for stability. Even if I don't know if it will work, I'll write it down anyway.]

Charlotte's attention became even more focused upon seeing Brett Cunning's name.

Turn the page.

[I know that cannibalism is immoral and I feel a strong aversion to it, but why is it that only by doing so can I accelerate the spiritual digestion? Why does the more I chew, the more I feel that they are no different from fresh clams and oysters?]

She turned the page, and the more she went, the more chaotic the writing became. Gradually, Charlotte could no longer understand the words inside.

[I think I've become addicted to this feeling. My scales are growing thicker, and some blades and spears can no longer pierce my flesh. This is all thanks to the humans who have given me this.]

I know I don't look good, and I don't know when it started, but I've begun to fear the heat and the dryness. I need to drink more and more water every day.

The last page is a wrinkled, yellowed sheet of paper.

[I successfully completed the ritual, but I can no longer shake off that damned habit. I don't want to, but I'm thirsty. I need water... and even more, I need blood... the ocean is calling to me...]

Humans are delicious...

Numerous trivial matters come into view as you flip through the pages, almost revealing the psychological changes of a person every day after becoming extraordinary.

Well, perhaps "an out-of-control process" or "a madman's diary" would be a more appropriate description.

Through the chillingly chaotic characters on the last page, Charlotte could see the other person struggling between reason and madness. Perhaps, her actions had actually freed the former from the last remaining aspect of his humanity.

If preying on humans is a ritual of digestion and imitation, then the information obtained is connected. Although it is impossible to be certain how credible the words written in a frenzy are, the fact that Talon is an extraordinary being is indisputable.

However, this seems to differ from what Ms. Mossang said. The sequence names of the Deep Walkers do not have much of a malignant connotation, yet they need to hunt humans to digest them.

Could it be that this approach, in lower-order rituals, is more about tearing apart the original person's moral values, detaching them from worldly affairs, plunging them into deep instincts, and gradually turning them into beasts?

With this in mind, the carriage gradually came to a stop, its pedals lowered on a plot of land a little distance from Connor Bar.

Nodding to the coachman, Charlotte took out a thin veil mask she had bought for five pence from a stall and covered her eyes and nose.

It's the kind of masquerade mask often used by some bands or theaters, which only covers half of the face, leaving some blank space to highlight its mysterious charm.

The one the girl bought had a long right side shaped like a crescent moon, while the left side was tapered inwards. It wasn't perfectly regular, but it was precisely this that helped to create a sense of harmony despite the apparent disharmony.

Passing by the slightly pungent, mixed fragrance and listening to the soothing and ambiguous melody, Charlotte arrived at her destination: the location of the extraordinary gathering.

It was a three-story gray-blue building with no signboard, but the entrance was decorated with blooming flowers.

She pushed open the door and entered, making no attempt to hide anything, and spoke frankly:

“I was introduced by Ms. Amani.”

Chapter 42 Laws and Assassination Commissions (3k)

The large wooden door slowly opened, and as soon as Charlotte stepped inside, she noticed two well-dressed thugs standing in the foyer and at the entrance.

Clearly, as a legally operating establishment, these are mostly used to deal with drunkards who cause trouble.

The burly man at the head of the group sized up the girl's clothes but did not stop her from going in. However, when he heard the cheerful sounds of clinking glasses inside, his Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

Looking around, the bar was neatly furnished, with leather sofas arranged in a row, and even a beautiful, scantily clad woman sitting on a high platform in the far corner, playing soothing music on a piano.

To the accompaniment of her melody, Charlotte strolled briskly and gracefully along the bright red carpet leading to the bar.

Looking down, one can see elegant men and women sitting on either side; some of them are mature and charming, while others are shy and innocent; some of them are uninhibited, while others are relaxed and at ease.

These gentlemen and ladies either rested their chins on their hands to appreciate the melody, chatted and laughed with each other, drank quietly and breathed in the breeze, or went up to the stage to dance gracefully.

Because it was late at night, there weren't many customers, only a handful. At first glance, it looked more like a proper karaoke bar than a typical bar.

"Beautiful lady, what would you like to order?"

The sharp-eyed bartender paused his mixing, leaned down, and asked the girl a question in a humble and polite manner.

Even though the black veil mask concealed the woman's eyes and nose, just by looking at her gracefully curved chin, he knew that this woman must be a beauty.

The slightly intoxicating aroma of alcohol mingled with incense filled the air. Charlotte adjusted her mask, making her voice sound less childish and more aloof.

"I need a glass of wine that I don't usually get to taste."

The man stopped wiping the wine glasses, looked up and scrutinized her for a few seconds, then pointed to the side.

"Lobby number two, but ma'am, did you have a prior invitation?"

“I was introduced by Ms. Amani.”

Upon hearing this, the bartender instinctively straightened his back, respectfully placed one arm outstretched, and led the girl toward the location indicated in the words, gently and rhythmically knocking on the door.

Seven or eight seconds later, the peephole in the door gleamed, revealing brown pupils at the back.

"Sir, this was recommended by Ms. Amani."

Upon hearing this, the door finally opened slightly, and an elderly man with a slightly hunched back stood with his hands behind his back, handing Charlotte a hooded robe and speaking calmly to the bartender.

"Try to make sure there doesn't happen again, Cario. Remember, always keep a record of everything beforehand."

He gripped the doorknob, sealing the tiny gap completely, then turned and led the girl through the dark corridor into the conference room inside.

The room was quite spacious, but no lights were on. Only a single candle was lit in the center of the coffee table, casting a dim, yellowish light that made the whole room appear shadowy.

Through the flickering candlelight, Charlotte could vaguely make out the guests around her. There were about ten people sitting on the sofa and the bench, all dressed in long robes that did not reveal any skin.

This outfit concealed the curves of her body, and even she herself could not sketch the general outline through her detached vision. Only the rise and fall of her chest when she breathed could give her a glimpse of what was going on.

Unlike Ms. Mossant, the members of this gathering had fairly normal heart rates and body temperatures, which might lead us to assume they were low-sequence extraordinary individuals.

Knowing that the lady was concerned about him, if he wasn't mistaken, she would recommend the most suitable level of party based on his current needs.

Despite being scrutinized by several gazes, Charlotte remained unmoved, quietly finding an empty chair to sit down and listening to the conversations and exchanges of the crowd.

"Didn't Amani die in the Hessen incident? Why would she recommend someone?"

Having apparently heard the commotion at the door earlier, one of the men muttered to himself.

"Shh, maybe it's a junior she trained. After all, that incident happened a while ago."

“I don’t believe that wild extraordinary beings would be so kind as to help others for free. You know, those churches never tolerate us developing downlines. They would rather openly label us as out of control and lock us up in a jar for others to observe.”

The gazes directed at the girl were not without malice, and among the speculations was an underlying resentment, seemingly stemming from dissatisfaction with the official targeting and attitude towards them.

Without ignoring the unspoken information, Charlotte listened attentively while also organizing her past knowledge and combining it with the current situation to come up with several possibilities.

The advancement of extraordinary beings requires the consumption of magical potions, following the path of ancient gods, and the intake of parts of extraordinary creatures to complete the corresponding rituals. After Mr. Talon died, all the green scales on his body disappeared, and he turned into that mass of wet eggs.

Could it be that these extracts are materials almost identical to those used in potions? If they could also be readily available and used as materials for advancement...?

Although it's just speculation, it makes sense that major orthodox churches would strictly regulate wild extraordinary beings and even resort to harsh measures.

Extraordinary individuals are highly susceptible to being seduced by delusions and subsequently lose control. If left unchecked, these unruly extraordinary individuals could potentially cause chaos in society, and even engage in mutual attacks, resource gathering, and murder.

However, this raises some issues. It seems that Ms. Mossant's candor not only taught her a lot of common sense, but also revealed a great deal of information beyond the norms that is unknown to ordinary people.

Imitation, digestion, the specific content of the ritual, high sequence, gods, the highest peak of the path—can these really be discussed frankly with an ordinary girl?

Before anyone could think further, the conversation spread and a sense of sadness filled the meeting room, prompting many whispers until the elderly man who had been leading the conversation tapped the table to signal for silence.

"That's enough. Since this lady knows Amani's name, whether by coincidence or by familiarity, she's a lucky one. Let's start the party; no one else should be coming."

The old man who spoke had a deep, resonant voice, and the hand that emerged from his cloak was withered and thin, clearly indicating that he was quite old.

"Thank you for your patience, Mr. 'True Knowledge'. Gentlemen, I would like to purchase a powerful weapon or some high-powered talismans."

The man next to me slightly raised his hand, expressing his own demands.

"Oh, my friend, have you perhaps made some enemies again?"

With a slightly mocking tone, another slightly overweight man smacked his lips and muttered some muttered words.

However, few people paid attention to this little incident, and soon a woman whose face was completely covered by a hood responded.

"Two options: a portable meat saw, handcrafted by artisans, with an ingenious steam-powered mechanical structure that can be folded and retracted for easy carrying; and a long-handled single hammer empowered by the Church of Steam Supremacy, which is particularly outstanding in purification. Believe me, it can crush any living corpse and bone, and probably contains the spiritual energy of three years of use."

The woman's voice fluctuated in pitch, clearly an attempt to conceal her true features.

“The former is fifty pounds, the latter four hundred pounds, or three portions of firefly ointment, and you can have both.”