Mystery: The Witch of Desire

"Oh well, I don't care anymore, I have to finish looking at the cards, right? I'll call one more hand."

She also increased her bet to 50.

The fifth card is revealed: a Queen of Clubs!

Instantly, Livre sensed that the man's astral body had turned an excited red once again!

He pushed aside the chips in front of him, feigning helplessness, and said:

"Hey, it's come to this, I'm not giving up no matter what. I'm going to go all in! Girl, if you've got the guts, go all in with me!"

Livre suddenly fell into deep thought:

Before the final hole card was revealed, the man was in a depressed state, but after the card was revealed, he became excited. One possibility for this is that he had an Ace and a King in his hand, which together with the hole card formed a straight of 10-JQKA!

The fact that he had an AK in his hand explains his initial state of excitement, perfectly matching his emotional journey.

Is it possible that he hit a pair? It's unlikely. His excitement is extremely intense. If he had only hit one or two pairs, he wouldn't be in this state.

"Could it be that unlucky? He really did turn up a Queen as his trump card?"

Livre was in a state of confusion. The man had bet half a pot more chips than she had in total. If she wanted to call, she would have to go all in, and if she lost this hand, she would have no chips left.

Liviel then realized that even extraordinary individuals didn't seem to have much of an advantage in this kind of gambling game. If luck wasn't on their side, everything would be for nothing.

"I didn't want to use that move, but I had no choice..."

Left with no other choice, Livre reached into her dress and, under the gaze of several men, made a seemingly indecent gesture. In reality, her fingers, concealed by her dress, lightly traced the mirror's surface, silently chanting in her mind:

"I can win this round of Texas Hold'em."

The mirror was calm and still, without any ripples. Liviel didn't know what this meant. Perhaps the matter itself didn't contain any mystical elements, so the magic mirror's divination failed.

Urged on by several men, Livril reluctantly gave up calling, losing nearly half of her chips in one hand.

The excited man showed off his cards: sure enough, he had a pair of Aces and Ks, forming a straight!

"This guy is really lucky!"

Liviel thought through gritted teeth, while also feeling that her spiritual vision was still somewhat useful. Without it, she would never have folded when she had three of a kind in her hand; she would have played to the very end and lost everything! Although she wasn't wearing any clothes to begin with.

"Let's go again. I still have two hundred chips. I refuse to believe my luck will always be this bad!"

Livre, seething with anger, took the cards and placed another bet!

……

Round after round they played.

Livre had become somewhat numb.

It seems that the goddess of fate, out of jealousy of her beauty, has brought misfortune upon her.

No matter how well she could understand her opponent's thoughts and guessed their hand almost every time, it was still useless.

Because the opponent's hand is bigger than hers, and often when she has the advantage, the opponent suddenly uses the hole cards to form a big hand with a very low probability, thus overtaking her!

"What kind of mess is this?!"

Liviel cursed under her breath, responding to the three men's greedy gazes with a somewhat unfriendly expression.

"Boss, sorry, we need to cool off first."

One of the men suddenly stood up, his gaze fixed on Livr, a lewd and unrestrained smile on his face.

"Hey girl, do you want us to come at you one by one, or should we all come at you together?"

Livre said in a calm tone:

"What a bad day, I lost all my money. Consider it a debt I owe you, I'll pay you back next time."

Upon hearing this, the men's faces instantly turned angry:

"Are you trying to renege on your debt? Don't force us to use force!"

Livre pretended not to understand and said:

"What debt did I renege on? Did I do 'that' with you guys? Fine, how about drinking or playing cards? I'm fine with either!"

The group immediately turned red with anger, stood up and surrounded the others, ready to take action and force them.

Livre chuckled inwardly:

"Since I can't win your money at the card table, don't blame me for picking a fight with you and then 'borrowing' money from you. Don't worry, I will definitely pay it back."

At this moment, Redbeard, who had been observing coldly from the sidelines, spoke up:

"Alright, you can all leave now."

"But boss..."

"go out!"

Redbeard clearly possessed enough authority that, despite their reluctance, the three men left, looking as dejected as stray dogs whose ducks had been snatched from their bowls.

At this moment, Redbeard took a sip of his ginger beer and said:

"Tell me, miss, what brings you here?"

Livre raised an eyebrow upon hearing this. This red-bearded man did not seem to be a reckless person; he maintained sufficient self-control.

So, Livre simply spoke frankly:

"I have a favor to ask of you, but I don't think I have enough to pay you, so I thought I'd try my luck at the poker table. Unfortunately, my luck isn't very good today."

Livre tried to speak in a joking tone, but Redbeard's expression was very serious:

"If you don't want to become a streetwalker, you'd better not try your luck through gambling; it will make you lose everything."

Livre was taken aback by his words, clearly not expecting Redbeard to say such a thing. At this moment, he didn't seem like a broker operating in the shadows, but rather like an old man reprimanding a junior.

The other party continued in a deep voice:

"What is your request? Tell me."

Livre didn't hide anything and spoke frankly:

"I need proof of identity."

Redbeard was clearly used to this and immediately made a quote with practiced ease:

"The low-end goods cost six gold pounds, enough to cover hotel check-in, tavern registration, and routine police checks. However, they are not on file and cannot withstand official verification. They can be picked up the next day."

A fully archived, official identity costs thirty gold pounds, takes a week, and can be officially filed at the Central Archives, passing all routine checks without difficulty.

After a moment's thought, Livre immediately decided:

"Then I'll have the cheaper one first."

"We'll fill out a formal file when we're wealthier in the future."

She added silently in her mind.

Redbeard nodded expressionlessly and slowly began to calculate the accounts:

"Identity certificate: £6. You still owe my men £24 sul. Gambling table loans are doubled according to the rules, so it comes to a total of £8.8 sul."

“I can accept this price, but I don’t have the money.”

Livre crossed her arms and spoke confidently.

Redbeard was not angry, but continued:

"Two solutions."

"First, entertain my guests, and all the profits will be mine. With your looks, ten times will be enough to pay off your debts."

"Please excuse me for refusing."

Livre refused without hesitation.

Redbeard, clearly having anticipated this, continued:

"The second method is to do something for me, and if you can do it, the debt will be wiped clean as well."

"Oh, what is it?"

Livre asked with some curiosity.

Redbeard looked up at her and said in a deep voice:

"Help me find someone."

As soon as he finished speaking, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a photograph, and handed it to Livre. It was a black and white photograph that had been repeatedly copied; the paper was mottled and old, the layers of copy marks blurred with faint ink, and the edges were worn and blurred.

The photo shows a young man whose features vaguely resemble those of a red-bearded man.

Livre glanced down at him for a moment, then looked up at the red-bearded man before her and asked softly:

"Your son?"

Redbeard nodded slowly, his voice low and hoarse:

“That’s right. Five years ago, we had a big fight, and in a fit of anger, he left home and has since disappeared completely in Backlund without a trace, leaving no clue whatsoever.”

Livre frowned slightly:

“I don’t think a search for someone this difficult is worth only £8.80.”

Redbeard calmly said:

"You don't need to find him, just provide a valuable clue."

What constitutes a valuable clue?

Livre pressed for an answer.

“I will set the standards.” Redbeard’s gaze was calm. “Miss, there is no need for dissatisfaction. I have already shown you extra mercy.”

Livre paused for a moment, then asked:

"Why would you entrust me with such a task? I am just a weak woman."

"A frail woman?" Redbeard sneered. "Perhaps. But I've seen plenty of people with special qualities, and you, you smell a lot like them."

Liviel was taken aback: Did he realize that I am an extraordinary being?

"There must be quite a few Extraordinary individuals active in the underworld of Backlund. It's normal for Redbeard, as a middleman, to have met some of them..."

After a moment's thought, Livre finally nodded in agreement to the deal.

"Leave your address and contact information, and come back to the bar at this time tomorrow to pick up your identification."

Redbeard gave his instructions succinctly.

Livre raised an eyebrow slightly, probing with a hint of provocation:

"Aren't you afraid that once I get my status, I'll just run away and renege on all my debts?"

Chapter 107: Uncomfortable clothes forced her to perform without underwear.

She had expected the man to make threats, but the elderly man, whose temples were streaked with gray and whose hair was streaked with white, remained silent for a long time before finally letting out a weary sigh.

"I have already spent five years and made countless futile efforts to find him. A few more futile efforts are nothing."

Upon hearing this, Livre's heart stirred slightly:

"I will do my best to find clues about him for you."

As soon as she finished speaking, she seemed to suddenly remember something and said somewhat awkwardly:

"Since I already owe you £8.80, how about lending me another £1.12 to make it a round £10?"

Redbeard suddenly looked up, his gaze falling on her, a hint of disbelief appearing in his eyes, which were accustomed to seeing many storms:

"I have never seen such a shameless lady."

……

A few minutes later, Livr left the Brave Ones' Bar with £1.12 soler in her pocket.

Although I didn't have much money in my pocket, at least I felt a little more confident.

She first went to the grocery store where she borrowed the mirrors, gave the owner 7 pence to settle the debt, and then spent 1 sous 8 pence to buy four extra mirrors for backup.

"For a beautiful witch, there are never too many mirrors."

Liviel felt a sense of relief as her fingertips caressed the cool, smooth surface of the mirror, and she chuckled to herself.