When evil gods hold a meeting in my head

"Please come in."

Edmund's voice came from the examination room.

Edmund is still here!

That way, you won't have to wait too long to get the parrot!

Richard entered with a sense of relief.

The consultation room was small, with a medicine cabinet and a worktable against the wall, and various bottles and jars scattered on the table.

On the small table in the center of the room, the green-bodied, red-beaked parrot stood on its perch, leisurely preening its feathers. Seeing Richard enter, the parrot raised its head and let out a soft "uh-ah," seemingly surprised or frightened.

It may have recalled the scene of being frightened in the laboratory, and laughed.

Richard greeted Edmund, "Professor, it's been a long time!"

Edmund was standing with his back to the door, organizing something in front of the medicine cabinet.

Upon hearing the parrot's call, he turned around and saw that it was Richard. His expression immediately darkened.

"It's you."

Edmund put down the medicine bottle in his hand, his tone indifferent. He didn't even need to listen to Richard speak; he had already guessed Richard's intentions and interrupted the spellcasting first: "The parrot cannot be taken away yet."

"Can……"

Richard really wanted to use the ring, which would allow him to refrain from unnecessary chatter, but while his magic could be restored, the process was very slow, preventing him from using hallucinogenic effects at the moment…

Edmund walked to the table and gently touched the parrot's head with his finger: "Before you take the parrot, there's something else I need you to do."

Richard's heart tightened: "What is it?"

"Ms. Naansanho wants to see you." Edmund's lips twitched slightly as he said this, as if he were suppressing some emotion. "After her presentation in the main hall, she will go to the private lounge on the second floor. She wants you to wait for her there."

Why does she want to see me?

Edmund finally couldn't hold back any longer, his tone tinged with obvious annoyance: "How should I know? She suddenly mentioned you this morning, saying she wanted to talk to 'that student who lets your guard down.' I'd like to ask you the same thing—what exactly did you do to me that day?"

Richard remained calm: "I was just having a normal conversation with you, and then you agreed to treat my parrot."

Really, it was just a chat...

I'm just an ordinary student, why should I be so wary!

Richard's thoughts raced as he pondered, "Could this meeting be the 'opportunity' Anna predicted? Should I agree?"

Edmund stared at Richard for a few seconds, seeing that he was lost in thought, and then gave a soft hum: "Fine... Anyway, you have to see Lady Naansanho today. Don't even think about taking this bird away until she's finished talking to you."

He paused, lowering his voice slightly, "And I suggest you take this meeting seriously. Ms. Ansanjo is very influential in the art world, and even has connections with the royal family. If she has a good impression of you, she might be able to help you resolve some... practical issues. For example, your overdue rent."

He spoke his last sentence very softly, but Richard heard it clearly.

"I see."

Richard outwardly nodded in agreement, but secretly muttered to himself...

Edmund was still worried about the rent he hadn't paid! He slowly asked, "Shall I go over now?"

"No need to rush. Just remember that the lounge is on the second floor, east side. There's a sign on the door that says 'Naan Sanho Studio'."

Edmund turned back to fiddling with the medicine bottle, making it clear that he wanted to see the guest out: "The explanation will probably end in about half an hour. You can wander around the neighborhood and come back up when it's time."

"Okay..." Richard left the consultation room and gently closed the door.

Standing in the quiet corridor, he exhaled.

I hope that not being able to get the parrot back for the time being will cause any trouble...

I've been really annoyed lately.

But Naansanho wanted to see him, a private meeting with only the two of them present, which would allow him to observe the painter well, and that seemed like a good idea...

Richard touched the white feather in his pocket.

Once we understand what kind of person the great female painter is, we can break the feather and "call" Anna!

Richard turned and walked towards the main hall.

He decided to go back to Rosalie first, listen to Naansanho's public explanation, and observe her performance in public.

As for the meeting in half an hour...

Let's play it by ear!

He pushed open the door leading to the main hall.

The light from the crystal chandelier hit him, and he blinked to refocus his gaze.

At this moment, Naan Sanho was standing in front of the steam train painting that Richard had specifically admired earlier, and the crowd around him was even larger than before, almost completely surrounding that corner.

Rosalie was still in the same spot, standing on tiptoe and peering in that direction.

As soon as she saw Richard return, a smile involuntarily spread across her face. She called out softly and waved to him, "Come on, come on, it's about to start!"

Although she lowered her voice, her tone was full of barely concealed excitement.

As Richard approached, she continued, "I finally managed to get this spot. It's not right in the center, but at least I can see his face!"

Richard looked toward Naan Sanho...

This angle is indeed excellent, positioned at a 45-degree angle to the side, allowing you to see the entire painting as well as clearly observe Naansanjo's expression and gestures.

The other person stood in front of the painting and waited for the crowd to quiet down a bit before speaking.

The voice wasn't loud, but every word carried clearly to every corner of the hall: "This painting is called 'The Wingless Bird,' and it was completed two months ago. Many people have asked me why I made the train fly? It should be running on the ground."

A few soft laughs came from the crowd.

My answer is... because it's too noisy.

Naansanho smiled slightly, "Just like I said in my inspiration sharing, I can hear the roar of trains every night when I go to sleep. As soon as I lie down in bed, I think... I wish it could fly away, fly into the sky, fly somewhere where no one can hear it."

Rosalie whispered to Richard, "She has a really nice voice."

Richard nodded.

Not only does Naan Sanho have a pleasant voice, but when she explains, she leans slightly forward and makes hand gestures from time to time, revealing a natural extension of her emotions. Her gaze will fall on the faces of the audience in different directions in turn, ensuring that everyone is taken care of and that no one in any corner feels neglected.

This is someone who is used to being watched and knows how to respond to being watched… Richard thought to himself.

Rosalie's voice drifted over again: "Her dress is also very beautiful; that kind of blue seems to only be available in Xixi Creek."

That's quite expensive...

Richard turned his head in surprise and muttered, "Rosalie seems very lively today, even... a bit youthful?"

It's quite rare to see her say things like this, considering she's usually someone who talks a lot about money and rent...

"You seem to really like her."

"Of course! Who wouldn't like a handsome and talented painter?" Rosalie replied matter-of-factly.

Upon hearing this, Richard smiled.

At this point, Naan Sanho began to introduce the second painting, giving a serious explanation interspersed with occasional self-deprecating jokes, which drew laughter from the crowd from time to time.

Everything is normal.

—Until Richard caught a glimpse of something out of place out of the corner of his eye.

No, I should say... it shouldn't have been in the gallery at all!

Richard took a few steps closer, trying to get a better look. Standing in the middle of his line of sight was a stranger.

I think I was ahead of him in the ticket checking line!

Richard clearly remembered the beret on the other person's head and his dark brown skin.

The other person had their hands hidden inside their large coat, and in those hands, they were actually holding a gun!

A flintlock shotgun, which is not commonly seen in Metz.