Mystery: The Witch of Desire

It seems the only option is to have a proper talk with this writer. If she isn't an official extraordinary being, then there should still be room for the two sides to sit down and discuss things.

Livre closed the doors and windows, drew the curtains, then patted Fors, whose body was tense and trembling slightly, and whispered in her ear with the power of an instigator:

"I'll let go of your mouth, but you're not allowed to shout or yell. If you understand, blink."

Fors's eyes were filled with panic, but she still obediently followed Livre's instructions and blinked.

As agreed, Livre pulled the towel out of Fors' mouth, and the saliva that came out stretched into a long thread on the corner of Fors' mouth, making the originally gentle and beautiful writer look rather embarrassed.

"Which path did you take to become an Extraordinary, and what sequence are you?"

Livre had already determined that Fors was an extraordinary being on the apprentice path, and judging from her performance, she was probably only at the Sequence 9 level, but she still asked the question, mainly to confirm whether Fors was being honest.

Fors struggled to control her physical desires and replied breathlessly:

"I am an apprentice, Sequence 9..."

That's fairly honest.

Livre nodded silently, looking at Fors's body. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was suppressing faint moans in her throat. Her long legs, which were bound by frost at the ankles, were constantly rubbing together.

Liviel felt a little reluctant, but still did not cancel the ability, because being in a state of desire could effectively weaken Fors' resistance, and at the same time, it could disturb her mind and prevent her from playing tricks on her during the questioning.

Suppressing that subtle pity, Livre continued to ask:

Are you an official Extraordinary?

Fors answered honestly:

No, I am not.

"So how did you become an extraordinary one?"

Livre's tone was completely calm, her gaze fixed on Fors's flushed face.

Fors' breathing became increasingly rapid, fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his voice trembled noticeably:

"I accidentally consumed the extraordinary properties left behind by my friend, and thus became an extraordinary being. Before that, I knew nothing about the extraordinary world."

Livre raised an eyebrow slightly, her tone becoming more scrutinizing:

"What do you do? I mean your real identity, not the guise of a writer."

Fors smiled wryly and helplessly:

"I am really just a writer. Becoming an extraordinary person has only brought some fun and adventure to my life, made my mind sharper and my body more coordinated, but it has not fundamentally changed my life."

Livre was skeptical and began to silently consider the veracity of Fors's words.

Finally, she spoke with a hint of pleading:

"Miss Monroe, have you done something to my body? Can you please let me go? I really can't take it anymore!"

Her voice was trembling with sobs, and tears... seemed about to spill over uncontrollably.

Livre didn't mean to make things difficult for her. Seeing her expression, she softened her tone slightly and said calmly:

"As long as what you say is true, I can naturally let you go."

"I promise, I'm telling the truth! I'm not lying to you!"

Fors whispered urgently, afraid that Livre wouldn't believe him, and his body began to tremble violently again due to the dual torment of excitement and desire.

Livre saw Fors's chaotic celestial body through her spiritual vision. This was a disordered state, and she concluded that the probability of Fors lying in this state was very small.

She seized the opportunity to press further:

What is your purpose in approaching Paria?

“It wasn’t that I wanted to get close to Paria!” Fors hurriedly explained. “It was Mr. Bright who approached me, wanting me to write a script. He also specified the main content of the script. I was just doing my job for the money!”

A thought struck Livre: It seems our meeting in Paria was just a coincidence?

She asked again:

"What were you doing outside Backlund that day?"

Fors answered, trembling:

"It was just a picnic at a writers' gathering."

At this point, Livre's suspicions about Fors had been largely dispelled, but just to be on the safe side, she still posed one last question:

Have you ever been to Tingen?

"Tinggen?"

Fors instinctively asked a question, recalling what Hugh had told her last night: the person connected to Hugh's father's murder was in Tingen, but that shouldn't be related to the current situation.

She immediately shook her head and said:

"No, I have never been to Tingen."

However, it was this brief moment of distraction that caused Livre's eyebrows to furrow abruptly:

She's lying! Or rather, she's at least remembered something related to Tingen!

Livre scrutinized Fors with a critical eye, making Fors's body, already tormented by lust, even more unbearable. She felt as if a fountain was churning in her lower abdomen, ready to burst forth... (Secret)

"Miss Marilyn Monroe, please, I really can't hold on any longer, please, let me go."

Fors pleaded pitifully, but Livre only smiled gently:

“If you tell the truth, I will naturally let you go. Tell me, why did you suddenly pause when I mentioned Tingen?”

Fors stammered:

“I remembered something about Tingen, but it shouldn’t be related to what happened between us.”

Her evasive demeanor only fueled Livre's suspicions:

"Oh, tell me, what is it?"

Fors hesitated. This matter was related to Hugh's most important secret. If Miss Monroe was a member of the royal family, it could very well bring Hugh to his death.

She gritted her teeth and insisted:

"No, this has nothing to do with us. It involves the secret of my most important friend. Please don't worry about it."

Livre, however, became even more concerned. She stroked Fors's soft, brown, tousled hair, leaned down, and whispered in her ear:

"How can I believe you if you don't tell me?"

The hot, humid air rushed into Fors' ears, plunging her already confused mind into a blank, and causing her whole body to tremble violently.

"Please, I really, really can't say it..."

Chapter 112 Interrogation and Being Interrogated

Livre didn't back down; she amplified the sex addict's abilities, arousing Fors' desires to their peak, while simultaneously whispering seductive words in her ear:

"Tell me, what do you know about Tingen City? Tell me, and you'll be free."

Fors' body trembled violently, and she could barely speak. Her body was burning with desire, and her mind was completely consumed by lust.

Fors could no longer control her body's natural reactions, nor could she suppress the groans in her throat.

Livre was stunned, completely unprepared for Fors to be interrogated to this extent. She quickly covered Fors's mouth with one hand to prevent the sound from being heard by the people outside, and at the same time, she deactivated the sex addict's abilities.

Fors lay weakly on the bed, drenched in sweat, panting heavily, looking utterly disheveled.

Looking at the pitiful Fors, Livre frowned, a flutter in her heart.

She took out a mirror and whispered a divination:

"Fors Wall is a threat to me."

The mirror surface was completely calm and still, indicating that Fors was not in any danger.

Livre was finally able to relax. Although she hadn't completely let her guard down around Fors, seeing Fors's current miserable state, she couldn't bear to continue interrogating him.

As for the secret she was willing to remain in such a sorry state rather than reveal, although it was related to Tingen, as long as it did not pose a threat to her, Livre had no intention of investigating it further.

She removed the ice rings binding Fors's hands and feet, poured a cup of hot water and brought it to her, saying softly:

"I'm sorry you had to suffer. Please have some water."

Fors was still convulsing, saliva uncontrollably dribbling from the corner of her mouth. She looked pitiful, as if she didn't even have the strength to lift her hand to take the water.

Feeling a pang of guilt, Livre glanced around, then took Ms. Fors's suitcase and held it out to her, asking with concern:

"Why don't you change your clothes first? You might get heat rash if you're wet. Do you need my help?"

Fors's cheeks flushed again, her eyes filled with sorrow, and she spoke slowly in a trembling voice, her voice trembling with extreme grievance:

"My hands and feet are so cold, I can't move them..."

Liviel was taken aback. She grabbed Fors's hand, which was slightly red from the cold. It was cool and still trembling slightly.

"Sorry, let me warm you up first."

Livre said with some guilt.

She went into the bathroom, filled a basin with warm water, brought it out, placed it by the bed, and then helped Fors sit up slowly, gently holding her fair feet.

Fors' feet were exceptionally beautiful, with fair and tender skin tinged with a faint rosy hue. Her five small, delicate toenails were pink and plump, like five tiny flowers adorning her fingertips, trembling slightly from the chill.

Livre gently immersed her feet in the warm water, her movements slow and gentle.

The warm water enveloped her icy feet, the contrast of hot and cold sensations spreading instantly. A tingling warmth shot from her toes straight to her heart, and Fors couldn't help but let out a soft moan.

"It's so itchy..."

Livre gently rubbed her fair feet. With each touch, she could feel her five little toes curling up towards the soles of her feet, looking incredibly cute. A blush gradually appeared on Fors's face.

After a while, Fors's feet gradually warmed up and stopped trembling. Livre then changed the water in the basin and warmed Fors's hands.

The two women's fair and slender hands were clasped together, immersed in warm water, the steam rising and the atmosphere soft and ambiguous.

Fors's heart calmed down by this time. She was slightly out of breath, and seeing Livre busy taking care of her, she thanked her with some emotion.

"Um, thank you, Miss Marilyn..."

Then Fors felt that she shouldn't thank Miss Monroe, after all, she was the one who had gotten her into this mess.

"What's wrong with me? I'm actually feeling grateful to the person who hurt me for doing me a small favor. It's just like the Stockholm syndrome that Emperor Roselle described!"

Livre patiently and gently massaged her palms, saying apologetically:

"I'm sorry, Miss Fors, things happened so suddenly, my first instinct was to prioritize my own safety."

"It's alright. As a fellow unofficial extraordinary being, I can understand you."

Fors said somewhat reluctantly, at least she wouldn't try to control a stranger she met just because she saw one. However, circumstances were beyond her control, and she didn't want to experience the pain of unrequited love again.

However, what exactly is that magical ability that can make someone fall into such a strong desire? Is it a magical object? Or the power of some other path? At least in her understanding, she doesn't know which path has the ability to arouse desire in others.

Of course, her understanding of the extraordinary world is still very limited, so it would be normal if there really were a way to possess such an ability.

Regardless, the two women reached a certain understanding with each other, and their relationship eased from the previous tense standoff. Livre gently massaged Fors's hands, occasionally splashing warm water on them. Her hands were very beautiful, with fair and slender fingers that looked flexible and strong. However, upon touching them, one could tell that there were thick calluses on the knuckles of her thumbs, marks left by a writer's long hours of writing.

In no time, Fors's hands and feet, which had been freezing cold, returned to normal. As she rubbed her wrists, she said gratefully:

"Thank you, Miss Marilyn, I feel much better."

Then, a blush crept onto her face, and she said somewhat shyly:

"Could you let me be alone for a while?"

Livr immediately understood what she meant.

"Okay, I'll wait for you outside."

She still had some things she wanted to talk to Fors about and didn't intend to leave right away.

Livre stood outside the door, quietly waiting for Fors, while keeping an eye on the movements inside the house.

She was also a little worried about what to do if Fors tried to escape again. Should she stop her? They had already built up some rapport, and she felt bad about intervening again. But if she let her go, she worried that Fors would tell everyone about her situation…

Fortunately, Fors didn't make things difficult for her. A dozen minutes later, she spoke softly from inside the room:

"Miss Marilyn Monroe, please come in."

Liviel pushed open the door and entered, only to see Fors dressed in a light blue floral dress, sitting diagonally on the unsheeted bed with her legs together and her hands on her knees, exuding the air of a serene beauty.

"Ms. Fors, you are the most elegant writer I have ever met."

Livre smiled, which was both a polite greeting and a sincere compliment.