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Lumian scanned the dim-lit dance hall, searching for Charlie, but to no avail. His heart sank. Hastily, he motioned for Louis and Sarkota to come closer.

“What’s the matter, Boss?” Louis asked, his voice filled with anxiety.

He assumed that Lumian was dissatisfied with the current state of affairs in the dance hall.

Lumian’s eyes wandered across the waiters, all dressed in vests and bow ties. He casually inquired, “Where’s Charlie? I need to discuss something with him.”

Louis’s eyes widened in shock. “Boss, didn’t Charlie follow you out just now?”

Charlie followed me? Lumian’s pupils contracted, as if he had been struck by a sudden burst of light.

He asked in a deep voice, “When?”

Louis pondered for a moment, confusion evident on his face as he looked at Lumian.

“Less than five minutes ago.”

Lumian’s gaze shifted to Sarkota, his taciturn and reliable subordinate, who also appeared puzzled.

Five minutes ago? I’ve been at Rue des Blouses Blanches for over half an hour. Moreover, the last time I left the dance hall, I was disguised as a drunkard. There’s no way Charlie could have left with me… Lumian swiftly dismissed the possibility of Charlie leaving the dance hall with him unnoticed.

The situation was growing increasingly bizarre!

Considering Charlie’s black ill-fated luck, tinged with crimson red, the probability of him encountering danger was almost 100%!

Suppressing the myriad of thoughts racing through his mind, Lumian said to Louis and Sarkota, “Perhaps someone is impersonating me, but I’m unsure why they would be searching for Charlie.”

“Impossible…” Louis blurted out.

A few minutes ago, he and Sarkota had greeted the boss. It couldn’t have been a fake!

Before Louis could finish his thought, Lumian shot him a cold glare. Immediately, Louis changed his tune and stammered, “Maybe, maybe it’s a fake.”

Lumian didn’t dwell on the question and inquired, “Did Charlie change his clothes when he left the ballroom?”

According to the rules of Salle de Bal Brise, every waiter, bartender, chef, and kitchen helper had two sets of uniforms. However, they were not allowed to take them outside of the dance hall; they could only be kept in the changing room on the first floor.

This was due to the cultural environment in the market district. Bartenders and waiters were prone to bankruptcy caused by gambling, alcoholism, illness, and other issues. If they were allowed to take their uniforms home, they would surely pawn them for cash before disappearing. They wouldn’t care if Salle de Bal Brise was owned by the mob.

Similarly, in Trier’s inexpensive cafés frequented by scavengers, laborers, tramps, and low-level workers, tin utensils and iron chains were used to secure them to the tables. This ensured only a limited range of movement for the customers, preventing them from secretly taking the utensils and selling them.

The more upscale cafés had their own set of troubles. In order to maintain an air of sophistication, they preferred using silver or porcelain utensils. Consequently, the boss had to painstakingly count the utensils after closing each day to check for any missing ones. The waiters were repeatedly instructed to be vigilant about such matters.

He had intended to prevent Charlie from leaving the dance hall in a waiter’s attire, but since Charlie had already departed with the boss, he wisely kept his mouth shut.

Most of the dance hall’s rules applied to waiters, dancers, bartenders, chefs, bouncers, cleaners, and even managers. The boss was exempt from such restrictions!

Lumian nodded slightly and calmly said, “You guys carry on with your tasks.”

With that, he made his way toward the changing room near the kitchen.

He suspected that Charlie’s disappearance had something to do with Susanna Mattise!

The small changing room was empty. Lumian glanced around and spotted the locker labeled with Charlie’s name.

Franca, donned in a black robe and hood, materialized beside Lumian and praised, “You acted swiftly. You knew to seek out a divination medium for me.”

“I’m not a fool,” Lumian simply replied. He retrieved a piece of wire he always carried and manipulated it a few times before opening Charlie’s locker where his clothes were kept.

Franca pondered for a couple of seconds before reaching for Charlie’s linen shirt.

She then used a broom that was leaning against the wall outside the changing room to conduct the divination.

“Charlie’s current whereabouts…

“Charlie’s current whereabouts…

“…”

Franca held Charlie’s clothes in her left hand and pressed her right hand against the top of the broom, murmuring to herself.

Eventually, she released her right hand, but the broom remained motionless. It stood as still as if someone were still holding it.

After a few seconds, it crashed to the ground with a thud.

“Was it interfered with?” Lumian probed.

Franca slowly shook her head.

“Doesn’t appear so…”

She swiftly walked over to the full-length mirror in the changing room and stroked its surface a few times.

Holding Charlie’s clothes, she commenced another round of divination.

After a few seconds, the mirror darkened, as if reflecting the darkness itself.

In the next moment, two figures materialized, moving in a hazy yellowish light.

One of them vaguely resembled Charlie, dressed as a waiter, while the other bore a resemblance to Lumian from behind.

Apart from that, they couldn’t discern any further details.

Franca scrutinized the vision for a few seconds before confidently deducing, “They’re underground! That’s why the previous divination couldn’t provide a clear answer. A broom can’t jump and stand on its head, can it?”

Lumian nodded and exited the changing room. He proceeded upstairs to retrieve a carbide lamp and any other useful items he might need later. Then, he swiftly left the dance hall.

He already had a rough idea!

Witnessing the scene, Franca retrieved a glimmering powder from her pocket and combined it with an incantation to conceal herself from view.

On Avenue du Marché, bathed in the eerie glow of the crimson moonlight and gas street lamps, Lumian hastened his pace, scouring the area for any trace or clue.

His destination was the entrance to the underground located in the middle of Avenue du Marché.

Suddenly, amidst the encompassing darkness, Lumian abruptly halted.

He observed that the grills in the drainage ditch had been displaced, and there were disheveled footprints along the roadside. Near the height of an average person’s head, there were signs of impact.

Franca revealed herself once more and reconstructed the sequence of events. “It seems like he slipped and stumbled while trying to maintain his balance along the gutter. Eventually, he collided with a street lamp… There should have been blood, but it was cleaned up…”

Perplexed, she muttered to herself,

“It bears a resemblance to the unlucky incident I witnessed earlier today…”

At that moment, Franca experienced a sudden realization. “Could that unlucky imposter, Ive, be the one who took Charlie?”

Lumian had long harbored suspicions, but now he was even more convinced.

“If he can masquerade as Monsieur Ive, it follows that he can also assume my identity.

“This ability is quite remarkable…”

At that instant, all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place within Lumian’s mind.

Susanna Mattise was on the verge of recovering, yet she remained concerned about the official Beyonders’ continued surveillance of Charlie. Thus, she enlisted the fake Monsieur Ive to pose as Ciel and discreetly escort Charlie underground, making it appear like an ordinary occurrence. Once they reached Underground Trier, it would prove challenging for the official Beyonders to locate them.

If they lingered any longer, even divination might be thwarted!

“Evading the official Beyonders during their initial investigation would require impressive skills,” Franca responded. Foregoing her invisibility, she trailed Lumian to the entrance of underground Trier in the middle of Avenue du Marché.

As the yellowish-blue light from the carbide lamp illuminated the staircase below, Lumian noticed two sets of footprints.

One set was familiar—it belonged to Charlie.

Examining the footprints, it was evident that Charlie was apprehensive about descending into the underground in the dead of night. He treaded cautiously, yet ultimately chose to place his trust in Ciel.

For the time being, there were no signs of him being restrained.

“Idiot…” Lumian cursed under his breath.

It was understandable that he couldn’t discern the deception. After all, one was a Beyonder, while the other was an ordinary individual. Nevertheless, they had walked together for quite a distance. Didn’t he sense anything awry during their conversation?

Is it truly so effortless to impersonate me, Lumian Lee?

“Thankfully, we have these footprints,” Franca sighed with relief.

The simplified dowsing rod divination proved challenging to utilize underground. While it might point in the right direction, there might not be a viable path to follow. It often necessitated lengthy detours, increasing the risk of losing their way in the labyrinthine darkness.

The Witch had not brought any tools to illuminate their path. It was unclear whether she was confident in her ability to remain with Lumian or if she simply disregarded the hindrance of darkness on her vision.

Lumian held the carbide lamp and ascended the stairs, reaching the level where the street and square names were indicated.

He moved swiftly, sometimes choosing a direction before Franca could discern the footprints. Soon enough, they discovered Charlie and the imposter Ive’s footprints once again.

Franca felt perplexed. After a brief pause, she couldn’t help but inquire, “It seems you know where the imposter Ive is headed?”

“After that pervert knocked Jenna unconscious, he followed the same path,” Lumian calmly replied.

This was the route familiar to those individuals, a route that evoked a sense of security. Moreover, it was likely that the imposter Ive was leading Charlie to Susanna Mattise. Susanna might very well be waiting at the end of this path!

Franca refrained from further comment. She utilized the shroud of darkness to partially conceal herself. At times, she scouted ahead, while at others, she watched Lumian’s back and flanks.

After several minutes of walking, Lumian and Franca came to a halt.

The area displayed signs of partial collapse. Debris littered the vicinity, and the trails meandered in disarray. Eventually, they led to a small cavity obstructed by rubble.

“The target encountered a minor cave-in and became trapped?” Franca whispered with a hiss. “Is this not excessively unlucky?”

Her gaze then shifted to Lumian.

“Where did you acquire that unlucky charm? Its efficacy seems way too potent.”

“I’ll procure one for you the next time I come across such misfortune,” Lumian responded, uncertain if he would encounter another individual as luckless as the tramp.

As soon as he finished speaking, gravel cascaded from the heap of stones barricading the cave entrance, clattering upon the ground.

In a short while, a passageway was cleared, and a figure emerged cautiously.

With golden-black hair and brilliant light-blue eyes, he possessed a striking handsomeness—yet another Lumian.