When evil gods hold a meeting in my head

Rosalie was about to urge Richard to continue looking at other portraits, or to participate in a painting competition held by the gallery, where the prize was said to be a self-portrait with Naan Sancho's autograph!

But the next second, she caught a glimpse of a figure walking out of the side corridor: "Edmund!"

She waved to him.

Richard looked over as well. Edmund had changed out of his stained white lab coat and was wearing a dark gray casual suit, his hair still a mess… He walked straight towards them, his gaze landing on Rosalie: “Rosalie, are you free right now?”

Rosalie paused, then asked, "What's wrong?"

Edmund paused, a rare occurrence, as if carefully choosing his words. He raised his hand, his index finger drawing a faint circle in the air: "I suddenly have a craving for that round Black Forest cake!"

Rosalie's eyes lit up, and her voice rose a half-octave: "You mean that dessert shop on Fairy Fairy Food Street, right? Their Black Forest cake needs to be ordered three days in advance!"

Edmund smiled, then took a small card out of his pocket and waved it in front of her.

"Of course I'm ready, so...shall we go now?"

Rosalie glanced at Edmund, then at Richard, a hint of conflict on her face.

"But Richard..."

"He still has to go get the parrot," Edmund interrupted her.

Rosalie simply said "Oh," which was quite straightforward.

"That's true!" She turned to Richard and shoved the monocle back into his hand. "Then be careful and don't wander off again. I'll come back to the gallery after I finish my cake... and then win that damn prize back!"

Richard gave a brief, perfunctory response.

After Rosalie followed Edmund away, Richard didn't think much of it and turned to walk upstairs.

On the second floor, the door to the lounge was ajar. He knocked lightly twice and then pushed the door open to enter.

At that moment, Naansanho stood by the window looking at the scenery: "Found it?"

Richard took the sketch paper out of his pocket and handed it over.

Naan Sanho took it and glanced at it... Next to the outlines of eleven mice on the paper, there were eleven charcoal diagonal lines, each one overlapping the white dotted line.

The dotted lines had now solidified, like frozen spider silk, gleaming faintly white on the paper.

She counted them once.

"Eleven." She placed the paper on the table. "Not bad."

She walked to the worktable, opened the drawer, took out three gold coins, and placed them on the table.

"Your payment."

Richard was stunned: "Payment?"

"You've solved my problem, so I'll give you a reward." Naansanho pushed the gold coins in front of him. "Three gold coins, not much, but enough for you to get by for a while."

Three gold coins isn't much? That's enough to exchange for 30 silver coins. You know, he's been three months behind on Rosalie's rent, which is 9 silver coins per month, totaling 27 silver coins.

Use 3 gold coins to pay the rent, and you'll still have 3 silver coins left!

Richard suspected that Edmund might have told her about his rent arrears; otherwise, why would she give him a perfectly reasonable 3 gold coins instead of 4 or 2?

Without any hesitation, he generously reached out and put the three gold coins into his pocket.

The gold coins were cool, making my pocket feel heavy...

"Thank you." Richard had never been so excited, but he didn't dare show it on his face...

Naan Sanho didn't look at Richard. She lowered her head, took out a folded document from the drawer, spread it on the table, and then opened it.

Richard looked over and discovered it was a contract!

"If you'd like to join my team," she said, "this is a trial period contract. The monthly salary is 1 gold coin and 2 silver coins. Your main responsibilities are delivering paintings and handling miscellaneous tasks. The working hours are flexible; you can go out when there are assignments and rest when there aren't."

Richard looked down at the details of the contract...

The handwriting was handwritten, and... it was written on short notice, but it was very neat, and the terms were listed clearly.

"Of course, the salary is just a side thing. What you really want isn't those few silver coins," Naansanho leaned back in his chair. "It's about things related to superhumans, isn't it..."

Actually, I'm more interested in the former now... Richard thought to himself.

Naansanho, with his hands folded in front of his abdomen, said, "You've seen how Edmund fights, so you should already know he's no ordinary person."

"Yes."

"To be precise and detailed, Edmund is a transcendent being in the Knight rank."

knight?

Richard had heard this word before in the voice within his body. Professor Puta's experiment summoned the fallen Three Ring Knights, and Luke was also a knight!

Naansanho continued to explain:

"I won't use too many technical terms with you. Simply put, most of the potions in this sequence enhance the body: strength, speed, stamina, recovery, and even the instinct for danger, etc..."

"Edmund was able to kill that puppeteer with a single stab not because of skill, but because of speed and strength—so fast that the puppeteer couldn't even react. Doesn't that sound impressive? But the price of taking the potion is enduring inhuman pain."

Richard frowned: "For example?"

"Muscle tearing," Naansanho added. "Most Knight Sequence Potions cause the user's muscles to contract, stretch, tear, and then regenerate uncontrollably the moment they are ingested. The entire process can last from a few minutes to several hours, depending on the individual's constitution and the sequence of the potion."

After she finished speaking, she wanted to see if Richard would show any fear or apprehension on his face.

But it didn't work out.

Richard was thinking... Did those who took the potion—the Three Rings Knight, Luke, Edmund—experience such pain when they chose to become superhumans?

His curiosity piqued, he asked again, "What sequence does that outsider belong to?"

Naansanho's eyebrows twitched: "Puppeteer."

She took a paintbrush from the pen holder and drew a wooden puppet on a blank sheet of paper: "This doesn't refer to ordinary toys that can be moved with fingers. Most puppeteers' abilities... are to manipulate living beings. And what they can manipulate, and how many they can manipulate, depends on which order of potion they have taken."

Richard recalled the rats that flew out of the muzzle of the gun.

"Is that outsider controlling rats?"

“Yes,” Naansanho said. “The 17th Order Puppeteer’s ability is ‘Biological Instinct.’ He can shoot rats like bullets, making them create chaos among people. Those rats are not ordinary animals; they are tamed by him with magic potions… They will obey his commands, hide, wait, and even self-destruct.”

"Self-destruction?"

“Too late,” Naansanho said. “He died too quickly; the orders hadn’t even been given. So the rats are just asleep now, waiting for the orders to expire, then they’ll wake up on their own, and then…”

So that's what it's called...

He had a general understanding of these so-called potions... Each potion corresponded to a specific ability. Superhumans could consume any potion they desired, but if they crossed a certain sequence, they would suffer a backlash from different emotions. The most serious consequence was... falling into the abyss!

"Can the 17th Order's 'biological instinct' only control mice?"

"No, it's all small rodents like mice. If he weren't just a lowly insignificant member of the first ring, it might be someone else lying on the ground today."

She seemed tired of talking and pushed the contract towards me: "You can take the contract back and look at it slowly. You can come to me anytime once you've thought it through."