Mystery: The Witch of Desire

Immediately, she felt a little awkward:

"Why did I add the superfluous qualifier 'beautiful'? I'm a man at heart, damn it!"

Somewhat annoyed, she walked a short distance towards the eastern part of the district, entered a small hotel that didn't require identification, and booked a room for 1 soule.

"No men are allowed to come home overnight!"

The obese proprietress stared at her fiercely, her eyes seemingly venting her jealousy towards this woman who was far more beautiful than herself.

Undoubtedly, she believed in her heart that Livre was a prostitute, using this to soothe the imbalance caused by the huge difference in their appearances.

Livre took the key with a hint of annoyance, checked into the room and settled in. She took a nice hot shower, then lay naked on the bed, enjoying the peace she hadn't felt in a long time while curiously exploring her own body.

It wasn't until nightfall that Livre entered the bathroom, her cheeks flushed with satisfaction.

"A woman's body is truly amazing..."

After washing up, Livr got dressed and prepared to go out for dinner.

She spent 7 pence at a small restaurant on a simple meal: black bread, pea soup, and a small piece of very salty bacon.

"Whether it's hotels or food, it's about 20% to 30% more expensive in Backlund than in Tingen. Is this what prices are like in the capital city...?"

After finishing her dinner with some reflections, Livre went out and went to the nearby department store.

She selected some daily necessities, simple cosmetics, two sets of women's clothes, and some women's underwear.

Although she chose inexpensive items, it still cost her 7 sous and 11 pence.

"Miss, I suggest you choose clothes made of better quality fabric, especially underwear, as this is good for your health."

As the female cashier packed Livia's items, she looked at her beautiful face and said with some pity.

In her eyes, a woman as beautiful as Livre should wear elegant and comfortable clothes, use high-end cosmetics, and shine at parties full of nobles and wealthy businessmen to win the favor of young heirs.

This was the life she dreamed of; she once believed that as long as she was beautiful enough, she could live such a happy life.

But now, seeing Livre, who was far more beautiful than herself but even more impoverished, she couldn't help but feel a sense of sorrow, like a rabbit mourning the death of a fox.

May the goddess bless you.

The saleswoman had a crimson moon drawn on her chest, offering her a sincere blessing.

Livre returned the triangular emblem somewhat awkwardly, inwardly grumbling to herself:

Am I really that miserable right now?

Back at the hotel, after putting on her underwear, Livr tried walking a few steps and felt an uncomfortable friction in her crotch.

"You get what you pay for!"

Somewhat annoyed, Livre took off her undergarments and threw them in a corner. She would rather go out without anything under her long skirt than wear such things.

And so, in a shabby room, lying on a shabby bed, the impoverished Livre spent her first night in Backlund.

The next day, Livre got up early and went to Paria.

She couldn't wait to start working and earn her first paycheck.

Guided by the waiter, she arrived on the fourth floor and met Mr. Bright.

Bright remained as enthusiastic as ever, a hearty smile on his face. Upon seeing her enter, he immediately stood up and handed her a draft employment contract.

“Ms. Monroe, I have prepared the contract. You can take a closer look.”

Livr took the contract, quickly glanced through it, and found the terms clear and concise:

The apprentice's monthly salary is two pounds. After officially starting to perform on stage, the monthly salary will increase to four pounds. At the same time, the apprentice will receive a share of the performance revenue. The specific sharing ratio and details will be determined by Mr. Bright.

Livre didn't have many objections, however, according to regulations, the employer needs to check the identity documents before signing the employment contract.

"Excuse me, Mr. Bright, I forgot my identification at home. Could you please bring it tomorrow?"

"Okay, that's not a problem."

Bright didn't see anything wrong with it. Not all Rune people carry their identification with them, especially respectable gentlemen and ladies. The police would never check their documents.

Bright led Livre down the stairs to the third floor, where the Paria Theater came into view.

This theater is not large, much smaller than the Riverside Theater, and can only accommodate about a hundred people, but it looks much more refined and is obviously aimed at the middle class with stronger spending power.

After passing through the audience seats and walking onto the stage, the heavy curtain was lifted, and the rehearsal hall was suddenly revealed.

The rehearsal hall was a bit crowded, with prop boxes, costume racks and makeup mirrors scattered around. A dozen theater actors, dancers and backstage staff were busy chatting, rehearsing and tidying their costumes, and the atmosphere was quite lively.

Upon seeing Mr. Bright and Livre arrive, they stopped what they were doing and looked over at each other.

Bright introduced with a smile:

"This is Miss Marilyn Monroe, who will be joining our Paria from today onwards. Let's all get along well."

Next, Brett introduced the members of the troupe to Livre. Using the instigator's keen emotional perception, Livre gained a general impression of the main members of the Balya Troupe:

Leading the group was the troupe's prima donna, named Coleman. He was in his early thirties, tall and handsome, and had a considerable following among female theatergoers in the Joewood district, often playing knights and nobles. He appeared somewhat arrogant and self-possessed, but beneath that deliberate arrogance, Livre could sense his lustful desire for her beauty.

Isabella, the troupe's veteran lead dancer. With a voluptuous figure and striking makeup, she had worked in Paria for years and was always the troupe's most sought-after female dancer, monopolizing various leading and central roles in ballets. Accustomed to being the center of attention, from the moment Livr stepped into the theater, her eyes were fixed on her, filled with undisguised jealousy and hostility.

The aging composer, Fitch, with his gray hair and fingertips perpetually stained with dark, plant-like marks, was taciturn and reclusive. He was a skilled lute player, his melodies often carrying a strange melancholy and eeriness. The company had initially planned to dismiss him, but Brett believed his style was particularly suited to the dark tone of "The Trial of the Witches" and decided to keep him.

In addition, there is Riley, a young man in charge of stage set design and props; Lucy, a gentle and timid supporting actress; and Caroline, a lively and flamboyant short-haired dancer.

With her stunning beauty, graceful figure, outstanding temperament, and unique allure, Livre overshadowed all the women present simply by standing there quietly.

Everyone's eyes were secretly glancing at Isabella, wanting to see how the lead actress of the Paria Theatre Company would react.

Isabella pressed her lips tightly together, her fingers gripping the hem of her skirt, her expression unpredictable. She had been the lead actress in the Paria Theatre Company for several years, but after the arrival of the new boss, Brett, he spent a fortune creating a brand new, exclusive Paria script. Then, citing that her temperament did not fit the new script's lead actress, he recruited a new one. This would undoubtedly take away all the resources and roles she had painstakingly built up.

Bright, seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents among them, smiled and said:

"Miss Monroe, from now on you will rehearse and work together with everyone. Isabella is the core actress of our troupe, and she is very experienced. You can learn a lot from her. The rest of you are also long-time members. Go forward, help each other, work together, and rehearse the new play. Let's strive to make a name for our unique production in Baliya!"

As soon as she finished speaking, Isabella forced a stiff, fake smile and nodded slightly to Livre.

Livre returned the smile politely, and at least on the surface, the conflict didn't seem so intense.

Brett left Livre in the rehearsal room with peace of mind and went to attend to other matters. He was the master of the entire Paria, and although his main focus was on the theater company, the restaurant, bar, and accommodation were also businesses that he needed to take care of.

Lead actor Coleman was the first to approach, speaking in a commanding tone typical of a superior addressing a subordinate:

"Miss Marilyn Monroe, 'The Witch Trials' is scheduled for release before May, and we don't have much time left. I will personally teach you some general acting skills and common sense, and I hope you..."

No, she doesn't need it.

At this moment, Isabella interrupted Coleman and walked over with a domineering smile:

"As the person about to take on the lead role in Paria, Ms. Marilyn Monroe must have some talent. Let's start the audition now."

Coleman frowned slightly:

“But Mr. Bright just said that she is still an apprentice…”

Isabella crossed her arms over her chest:

"The apprenticeship period is just a general term for actors who have not yet performed on stage, and it doesn't mean anything. During my apprenticeship, my superb acting skills had already earned praise from many people in high society."

Then, she turned to Livre:

"Miss Monroe, as the future pillar of Paria, you should have this confidence, right?"

Liviel smiled outwardly, but inwardly she scoffed. She had seen plenty of people like this in her past life—bullying the younger generation and manipulating power—the kind of low-class tactics that were easily seen through.

Isabella elevated her to the status of a pillar of Paria, showering her with high praise. Normally, Livril would have declined, expressing respect for her senior and humility as a newcomer.

But now, she doesn't want to do that; this is precisely an opportunity to test an actor's abilities.

"I've become a real actor and I'm still being bullied by a second-rate actor like you. Haven't I just wasted all those magic potions?"

Liviel walked to the center of the crowd with a smile, accepting the various gazes of the people, and said with a smile:

"Seniors, which play should we audition for?"

"Arrogant bitch!"

Isabella cursed inwardly, but outwardly wore an admiring smile and said:

"Well, what an energetic young man! His vibrant energy reminds me of Marguerite in 'La Dame aux Camélias.' Let's reenact a climax from 'La Dame aux Camélias.'"

Upon hearing this, everyone looked surprised, and Coleman frowned.

"La Dame aux Camélias" is a representative work of high-difficulty drama. The female lead, Margaret, is a woman of the night. To successfully portray this role, an actress needs not only strong theatrical skills but also a strong inner strength.

If it were a naive young girl, her cheeks would flush red just from reciting those embarrassing lines and singing them, let alone performing them vividly.

Isabella gestured for Lucy, a supporting actress, to hand the script to Livre. Livre elegantly opened the script and her cheeks instantly turned bright red with embarrassment.

"What kind of lewd words are these? It's so shameful to hear them come out of one's mouth! Just looking at these explicit words makes me feel wet..."

Isabella noticed Livre blushing and couldn't help but smile smugly: What an innocent young girl! Trying to compete with me for the lead role? How naive!

She eagerly closed the notebook, gesturing to Coleman with her eyes:

"Shall we begin, Mr. Protagonist?"

Coleman looked at Livre with some helplessness, and seeing that she did not refuse, he had no choice but to begin his performance.

Livre took a deep breath, her fingertips tightening on the hot script. The explicit words danced before her eyes, and her body's instinctive reaction sent a blush creeping up her ears.

But the next second, the actress's extraordinary ability flowed through her nerves like ice water. She clearly captured Isabella's barely suppressed smugness, and Coleman's complex expression mixed with worry beneath his arrogant gaze. She captured the expressions on every actor's face and the very air on stage.

Just then, a gentle March breeze blew in through the window, brushing against the hem of Liviel's skirt and giving her a comfortable coolness.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, all her shyness had been transformed into a captivating glow.

When Coleman recited the aristocratic rogue's flirtatious lines, Livre did not falter or back down as Isabella had expected. A soft chuckle escaped her throat, her fingers lazily twirling a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes sweeping sideways:

"You say you love my face?" she recited the explicit line, her voice as sweet as honey, "But your hands... clearly only care about what's under my skirt."

"You say you love my soul? But the path to my soul is the heart, not that wet passage."

"You said you love the aroma of my tea? But what exactly do you mean by tasting new tea? Why is it different from what I expected?"

Liviel sang lines that stirred the imagination with ease, arousing the desires of the men around her, who were immersed in sinful fantasies. Even the women blushed, immersing themselves in Margaret's world of love and debauchery.

When the performance reached the scene of Margaret's monologue before her death, Livre suddenly abandoned all her seductive charm, her body collapsing gracefully to the ground like a doll that had lost its support, her pale fingertips lightly pressing against her chest, her breathing growing weaker and weaker:

"This world... is a bastard rapist. He took all my first times, took everything from me, and then left me in loneliness and pain..."

She coughed and curled up on the ground, tears hanging precariously from her eyelashes, a spiritual compassion shining through her despair.

The old musician Fitch's lute playing unconsciously followed her rhythm, the somber melody highlighting a fatal beauty. The entire audience fell silent, and the supporting actress Lucy even covered her mouth and sobbed silently.

The only discordant element was that when Livr fell, her skirt billowed up, and since she wasn't wearing underwear, she hurriedly pulled it up to cover herself. Fortunately, no one noticed this minor flaw.

In the final scene, as Coleman kneels in repentance, Livre, playing the ghost, exudes a chilling aura, yet suddenly reveals a seductive smile, gently stroking his cheek with a blood-stained handkerchief:

"Don't cry... darling, you should be smiling."

Her eyes held a mixture of sorrow and mockery:

"You've always been the one who makes me cry, but now, I'm the one making you shed tears."

The tragic and poignant love story between a human and a ghost unfolded on stage, captivating everyone with Livre's acting skills and immersing them in the sorrowful atmosphere. The men couldn't help but applaud enthusiastically, while the women shed tears of emotion.

Only Isabella's face was ashen, her manicured nails almost drawing blood from her palms.

The woman's jealousy of another woman even overcame the actor's extraordinary abilities, making her the only person in the entire audience who was not swayed by the performance of both the instigator and the actor!

Liviel curiously curled her tongue to activate her spiritual vision, looking at Isabella with a puzzled expression:

"You, a Protoss, don't seem like an Extraordinary being at all. Is your jealousy of me really this extreme...? Even Extraordinary power can't make you feel any goodwill towards me?"

At this moment, Coleman clapped his hands in admiration and exclaimed:

"Miss Marilyn Monroe, your acting skills have truly impressed me! This is the best portrayal of the Lady of the Camellias I have ever seen!"

His expression was extremely excited, and all traces of his previous arrogance had vanished.

Livre smiled and thanked her, while glancing at Isabella with a hint of amusement.

Isabella's anger intensified; she was so furious she almost fainted. Margaret, the Lady of the Camellias, was a role she had played for years, and she never expected Coleman to make such a comment about the newcomer, 'Miss Monroe'!

She left with a cold expression and did not participate in the rest of the rehearsal.

Everyone present could see her anger, and no one dared to say anything. Clearly, this soon-to-be-out-of-favor leading actress still held considerable prestige within the Paria Theatre Company.

Coleman shook his head as he watched Isabella's retreating figure, then leaned closer to Livre and said:

“Miss Monroe, please don’t mind her. Isabella has worked in this theater company for many years, and she can be a bit eccentric at times.”