Mystery: The Witch of Desire

Coleman slowly shook his head:

“No. Joey said that after she rushed out of the theater, she ran into the street like a madwoman and disappeared in the blink of an eye.”

He paused, his tone full of helplessness:

"Her temper is getting more and more volatile. If this continues, something terrible will happen sooner or later."

For a moment, the rehearsal hall was filled with a depressing atmosphere. The old musician Fitch didn't seem to like this atmosphere and left the rehearsal hall with his lute.

Just then, Bright walked in from the doorway and asked, somewhat puzzled:

"What happened? I could hear what sounded like an argument from my office."

Coleman quickly gave Bright a brief report on what had just happened. Livre noticed that he had used as tactful language as possible to save face for Isabella during his report.

After listening, Bright showed little emotional reaction, simply nodding and saying:

"Since she wants to leave, let her go. Sometimes, being alone helps you see things more clearly. More important than Isabella's matter, I have something more important to announce—"

Mr. Bright cleared his throat and said somewhat excitedly:

"I have arranged a time with Ms. Fors Wall to come to Paria tomorrow. She will give us a comprehensive explanation of the play's plot logic, character core, and other key elements from the author's perspective. Please make sure you are all prepared, as this is very important for our new play's performance!"

Everyone nodded in agreement, while Livre was slightly surprised: Was Ms. Fors arriving so soon? Mr. Bright was certainly impatient… Hmm, I'll buy another copy of the *Backlund Workers' Gazette* today and catch up on Ms. Fors's *The Woman of Desire*, so I'll have more to talk about when we meet. Knowing an author is never a bad thing.

Mr. Bright's news brought a tense and lively atmosphere back to the rehearsal room. Under Mr. Coleman's guidance, everyone resumed practicing the basic repertoire and memorizing the lines of the new play in preparation for Fors's instruction the next day.

Everyone was eager to perform well in front of her. As a theatrical actor, being featured in a famous author's book would help boost their reputation. Therefore, in the eyes of the troupe, Ms. Fors had become as revered as established authors like Lawrence Henderson.

at the same time.

Inside a townhouse on Pesfield Street in the North of Backlund.

Fors Wall was lounging on his bed, which was piled with manuscripts and snacks, with a fluffy feather pillow between his legs, smoking a cigarette and dreaming about his encounter in the suburbs that day.

At that moment, a short, blonde woman walked in, looked at Fors lying on the bed, and said with a hint of reproach:

"Fors, I've reminded you so many times, don't smoke in bed."

Fors snapped out of his reverie and said, rather dejectedly:

“Hugh, just let me enjoy this a little longer. That annoying Mr. Bright has written to me again, asking me to come to his theater to explain the logical chain of the script and the core of the characters. Damn it, how would I know any of this stuff? I just write whatever comes to mind. The thought of lecturing so many people makes me feel like I’m going crazy! Ugh, I really regret taking that script from Bright.”

Hugh shook his head helplessly, taking the cigarette from Fors's lips and stubbing it out in the ashtray by the bedside, while speaking in a lecturing tone:

"It's all your own fault. With your fame, if you could submit your manuscripts on time, you might already be financially independent and wouldn't have to owe your landlady rent."

"If I had your talent as a writer, I would work day and night to write, earn money, earn money, and earn more money, so that I could save up enough money to buy the sheriff's potion sooner."

As he spoke, Hugh's expression became somewhat solemn, as if he were recalling those past events buried deep in his heart.

Seeing her like this, Fors felt a little soft-hearted, and his original irritation dissipated.

She slowly got out of bed, went around behind Hugh, gently placed her hands on Hugh's shoulders, and said with some heartache:

"Finding the truth about your father's past is never something that can be done overnight. Don't be too impatient, take your time."

Hugh nodded slightly, the gravity in her eyes gradually fading, replaced by a faint but genuine hope. She softened her tone and said cheerfully:

"Actually, I have recently obtained some valuable information and found traces of a person who was a witness to what happened back then."

"Where is the eyewitness?"

Fors asked with some curiosity.

Xiu raised his bright eyes and looked into the distance:

"She is in Tingen."

Chapter 110 Emily Wants to Become a Hunter

……

Tingen City, Blackthorn Security Company.

Dunn sat in his chair, his deep gaze fixed on Emily before him. After a few seconds, he sighed and said:

"Are you really going to decide to become an Extraordinary? Your contributions are already enough, but entering the Extraordinary world is not necessarily a good thing."

Emily's tone was soft, but firm:

"Yes, I've already thought it through."

She slightly raised her eyes, and two not-so-tall male figures appeared in her vision:

"I want to see the world they've seen, feel the pain they've experienced, and protect the dreams they've protected."

After more than a year, Emily has lost some of the youthful vibrancy of a college student and gained more of the mature and intellectual charm of a night watchman/clerk.

Dunn was silent for a few seconds before speaking in a low, gentle voice:

"Alright, I respect your opinion, but I still want to remind you that the paths of Diviner, Sleepless, and Corpse Collector are more suitable than Hunter Potions. Among these three paths, Night Watcher has more heritage, materials, and potion recipes, which can provide you with more assistance."

Emily shook her head slightly:

"No need. I've thought about it for a long time, and I still want to choose the hunter path."

Dunn frowned slightly and tried to persuade him again:

"As you know, this hunter's potion recipe was obtained by chance, and there is no follow-up recipe. Although the recipe has been verified as genuine by the Sanctuary, there are still many uncertainties. You should reconsider carefully."

Emily met Dunn's worried gaze, her tone calm yet resolute:

"I had a feeling that being a hunter was my destiny, the most suitable choice for me."

Dunn sat in the chair, remaining silent for a long time.

After a long pause, he finally spoke:

"Alright, you can go find Old Neil now. You still have a chance to change your choice before you take the potion."

Emily nodded slightly, said nothing more, and went straight to Old Neil's basement.

“You’ve arrived, Miss Emily.” Old Neil smiled and looked her over. “The world of the extraordinary is full of dangers. Are you really sure you’ve made up your mind?”

"Yes, Mr. Neil, please."

Emily said earnestly.

Old Neil nodded slightly:

"Dunne said you want to choose Hunter's Potions? That's not a common choice, and we know very little about that path."

Upon hearing this, Emily looked into the distance, her eyes filled with longing:

"I think the best potion is the one that suits me, so let me choose the Hunter's Potion. I want to be like a hunter, to hunt down all evil in the world and to protect everything I want to protect."

Old Neil's expression shifted, and he nodded approvingly:

"Okay, since this is your wish, I will respect your choice."

He turned and walked to the table, picked up a small copper pot, added water, and heated it over a fire. Then, he methodically took out all sorts of oddly shaped alchemical materials from the cupboard, arranged them neatly, and waited for them to be brewed.

Just as Emily was quietly waiting for Old Neil to prepare, a strange feeling suddenly swept over her. She felt a sudden numbness all over her body, as if a tiny electric current was coursing through her, and she couldn't help but tremble slightly.

At the same time, the surrounding environment seemed to darken instantly. The faint crackling of firewood and the clinking of utensils in the basement vanished, plunging into an eerie silence. Even the scent of herbs in the air became hazy and insidious. In this silence, some of Emily's deepest obsessions seemed to disappear into the stillness as well.

Emily frowned slightly, shook her head blankly, her face full of confusion:

"Strange... Why do I have such a strong obsession with hunter potions? Hunters, hunters... it doesn't seem like I have to choose them."

After hesitating for a moment, Emily called out to Old Neil, who was busy at work, and said somewhat apologetically:

“Mr. Neil, could you please wait a moment? I would like to choose a different potion.”

Old Neil paused for a moment upon hearing this, then smiled gently, his tone still kind:

"Of course, no problem, Miss. I haven't started brewing the potion yet, so there's no waste of materials."

He put the materials on the table away again and said:

"Taking a potion is a very important matter, it's always good to think it over. Come find me when you've thought it through. Oh, and remember to tell Dunn too."

Emily nodded in agreement, left the basement, and fell into deep thought.

……

Paria's rehearsal continued until the end of the workday in the evening, but Isabella still hadn't returned.

Coleman seemed distracted throughout, his eyes frequently drifting towards the entrance of the rehearsal hall, his brow furrowed with anxiety and worry. After all, he and Isabella had some unusual past.

Looking at him like this, a sentence she had heard in her past life suddenly came to mind: Once a man and a woman have that kind of intimate relationship, they become different. Even if there is no longer any connection, the other person's place in her heart will always be different from that of others.

Of course, she had never experienced any of this firsthand, so she couldn't tell if what he said was true or false. But looking at Coleman's distracted expression, she felt that there might actually be some truth to what he said.

As soon as he got off work, Coleman couldn't contain himself any longer. He hurriedly packed his things and rushed out of the rehearsal hall. Seeing this, Livre smiled faintly, thinking to herself: "Judging by his eagerness, is he planning to rekindle his old flame with Isabella?"

However, she didn't intend to meddle in these matters. After all, it was a conflict between Coleman and Isabella, and had nothing to do with her. But if Isabella returned and continued to target her as before, she wouldn't mind teaching this arrogant, washed-up actress a lesson she wouldn't hesitate to teach her a lesson.

Leaving Paria, Livre headed straight for her usual little restaurant. Pushing open the door, the rich aroma of lamb wafted out, enticing everyone and making their mouths water.

Livre couldn't resist indulging herself and ordered a lamb stew with peas for 1 souvenir and 1 penny, along with oat bread and apple pie, to treat herself.

But when her fingertips touched the few coins in her pocket, she hesitated. In the end, she went to the counter and spent 5 pence on a simple meal: black bread with coriander soup and a small piece of salted meat.

She hasn't found a stable and efficient way to make money yet, so she has to be careful with every penny. She'd rather live frugally and buy a couple more mirrors than waste her limited money on momentary cravings.

After dinner, Livre drank several large gulps of water to wash away the saltiness of the bacon in her mouth, bought the latest issue of the Backlund Workers' Daily, and returned to 27 Minsk Street.

Livre had no intention of prying into the private life of her landlord, Mr. Waffle, but by sheer coincidence, she still managed to spot a beautifully made-up woman standing in front of Mr. Waffle's door and gently knocking on it, thanks to her extraordinary vision.

"After what happened yesterday, Mr. Waffle still has the mood to call for in-home services... His addiction is really serious. Who is the sex addict here?"

“Mr. Waffle is a respectable man, and inviting a woman to his home does avoid the risk of being discovered visiting a brothel. However, your neighbors might see things they shouldn't. Sigh, I've already promised Mr. Waffle I won't say anything, so let's just pretend we didn't see anything. It's just a pity for Mr. Waffle's gentle wife…”

Livre muttered to herself as she finished washing up and lay down on the bed, reviewing the lines from the script of "The Witch Trial" in preparation for her conversation with Fors Wall the next day.

While reading the lines about witches using magic in the dark to judge corrupt officials, Livre couldn't help but be curious about how witches were portrayed.

"Assassins and instigators can find ways to act based on the names of potions, but witches are too broad. Using black magic? Creating panic? Poisoning others? These all seem like potentially effective methods, but they are basically negative roles... How can one play these roles without betraying their original intentions?"

After letting her thoughts wander for a while, Livre took out the latest issue of the Backlund Workers' Daily.

Today's newspapers didn't have much of any valuable news, so Livre flipped straight to the serialized novel section and started reading the latest issue of Fors Wall's "Woman of Desire".

However, today's content made her lose her composure:

"My God! The female lead is actually exposing herself in the wild, showing off the beauty of her body? That's so perverted, but... it seems quite exciting."

With a secret thrill, Livre continued reading:

"Hmm... The female lead bumps into the second female lead, who is enjoying the scenery in the countryside. The two actually develop feelings for each other, and then, in the beautiful countryside, they do this and that..."

Livr closed the newspaper, still somewhat unsatisfied. Reflecting on her previous encounter with the woman in the wild, she was left with a lingering sense of wonder.

"It has to be said that the standards for literary works in this world are far more lenient than before I transmigrated. Not to mention those tabloids that specialize in erotic works, even these serious works are so explicit."

Liviel sighed, drifting into a beautiful fantasy...

The next morning, Livre went to a small restaurant on Minsk Street, bought a jam oat bread, and paired it with a cup of coffee and milk. It was a simple and filling meal, providing enough energy to support her activities throughout the morning.

After finishing her meal, she headed to the Ballia Theatre at her usual time. But the theatre was completely different today: usually only Lucy arrived first, but now most of the performers were already in place, each impeccably dressed and poised. Lucy and the dancer Carlotta had even put on exquisite makeup, their complexions radiant.

Lead actor Coleman, on the other hand, looked tired and listless, perhaps because he hadn't recovered from yesterday's argument with Isabella.

In contrast, the female lead, "Marilyn Monroe," dressed in cheap clothes and dressed simply, looked somewhat out of place among the meticulously dressed crowd.

"It's alright, I will win over that Ms. Fors with my superb acting skills and beautiful face."

Livre smiled gently and joined the group. After a while, everyone except Isabella had arrived. Mr. Bright also came down from his fourth-floor office and said some encouraging words. The entire troupe waited nervously and expectantly for Fors' arrival.

Time passed, and it was already past 10:30. Mr. Bright looked at his watch anxiously: half an hour had passed since his appointment with Ms. Fors, and she still hadn't arrived. Had she encountered some accident on the way?

Just then, a waiter downstairs announced:

"Mr. Bright, Ms. Fors has arrived."

Chapter 111 Interrogation of Ms. Fors

Bright said excitedly:

"Okay, quickly invite her up."

A short while later, the head waiter, Joey, respectfully led a beautiful woman upstairs. She had a cool and serene air about her, was about 1.65 meters tall, and wore a beige high-necked dress with ruffles. Her brown hair was slightly curled and draped over her shoulders, and her soft eyes were slightly upturned, with a playful smile that seemed to see through everything.

Lucy unconsciously took a deep breath: Just as rumored, Ms. Fors is indeed a beautiful and elegant writer!

Bright immediately stepped forward, smiling and extending his hand: