Mystery: The Witch of Desire

As Liviel pondered, she took out her notebook and began to read:

Coleman White had a heated argument with the victim before her death and slapped her, causing her to become emotionally agitated and run out of the Paria Theater. Coleman rushed out to find her and returned about eight minutes later. The victim was murdered six hours later. Coleman White had a long-standing inappropriate relationship with the victim, and this inappropriate relationship was exposed during the argument, raising the possibility that he killed her in a fit of rage.

Musician Fitch felt unwell during Coleman and Isabella's argument and asked for leave to go home to rest, as evidenced by Brett's signed leave slip. Neighbors can testify that he remained at home the entire time.

Lucy...

Carlotta...

On February 9, 1349, Fors Wall accepted a commission from Brett, the current creditor of the Ballia Theatre, to write the play *The Trial of the Witches*. Based on the initial script provided by Brett, Coleman White and Isabella Tver were to play the male and female leads, respectively. Coleman would play a righteous bounty hunter, and Isabella would play a female police officer. Together, they would arrest several wicked witches, thereby promoting justice and conveying a positive message.

However, Fors unilaterally changed the theme of the script, renaming it "The Trial of the Witches" and adjusting the main plot to "a witch assassinating a corrupt official," using the story to criticize and slander the current situation and subtly promote the so-called "evil forces of witches." Fors has personally admitted that his motivation for creating the script was to vent his dissatisfaction with the current government and to incite anti-government and anti-royal sentiments.

Mr. Bright was extremely dissatisfied with the revised script and had several discussions with Fors, but Fors was adamant and refused to make changes. Left with no other choice, Mr. Bright eventually had to accept the fact that the script had been changed.

Isabella was replaced as the lead actress because her temperament and image did not fit the role of the witch in the new main storyline; the theater subsequently recruited "Marilyn Bello" to play the role of the witch.

While there are no obvious suspicious circumstances surrounding Marilyn Bello's involvement, as a direct beneficiary of the script changes and the actress who plays the central role of the witch, it is advisable to continue monitoring her case and further investigate her connection to the deceased and Fors.

……

Upon seeing this, Livre was terrified, her heart filled with a storm of emotions:

Mr. Bright has a problem!

This script was something Bright had always talked about and cherished. Everyone could see how much he valued it. How could he possibly allow Fors to change the core plot without his consent? He had personally controlled the main plot from the very beginning! He had always praised the contrast between the witch's chivalrous deeds and her actions.

Fors was clearly wronged! With her lazy and idle nature, and her tendency to improvise even when explaining a script, how could she possibly put in the effort to create a script just to vent her dissatisfaction with the government?

Why did Bright do this? Was it because he saw a flaw in the script, or did he have some other ulterior motive, and deliberately shifted all the blame onto Fors, the playwright? As the de facto controller of the Ballia Theatre, Bright possessed considerable capital and connections, making it entirely possible for him to collude with the police to force Fors to confess…

Livre's expression grew increasingly serious.

If Fors's crime is definitively proven, she will undoubtedly face a long prison sentence. What worries her even more is that once the interrogation goes deeper, Fors's identity as an apprentice Extraordinary might be exposed, and since she already knows she is an Extraordinary, she might inevitably be dragged into the mess as well, which would be a real disaster.

No, we must find a way to clear Fors's name.

She quickly calculated her options: the best way was to sneak into Fors's house, find her original manuscripts and correspondence with Brett, which could serve as solid evidence for her lawyer to overturn the case. At the very least, she could approach Brett directly, using her influence as an instigator to subtly manipulate his emotions and force him to confess the truth and admit to framing her.

After a moment's consideration, Livre quickly made up her mind, changed her clothes, and went out. She planned to go to Fors's residence first and try to find the letters between her and Bright. If she could get the letter that Bright had instructed her to write the script, it would be the most powerful bargaining chip to help Fors get off the hook.

The case file clearly records Fors's address: 92 Pesfield Street, North End.

She then realized that the police and even the extraordinary individuals with mechanical hearts might be lying in wait around the Fors's house; going there rashly would be too risky. Livre took out a small mirror she carried with her and gently stroked its surface to perform a divination:

It is dangerous to travel to Ms. Fors’s home on Pesfield Street in the North End.

The mirror surface was completely calm, indicating that there was no danger.

Livre felt a little relieved and began to consider how to get to the North District. Compared to horse-drawn carriages, the subway was a better option in this metropolis.

Backlund's metro system is 25 years old, with a well-developed and extensive network of lines that connects to almost all major urban areas.

This made her sigh with emotion: the earliest subway on Earth originated in London in the 1860s. At that time, the productivity level of Earth was almost the same as that of the world today. It has to be said that the trajectory of civilization development on this land is truly astonishingly similar to that of Earth in her previous life.

Collecting her thoughts, Livre walked towards the nearest subway station. During peak hours, trains run every ten minutes, and during off-peak hours, every fifteen minutes. It was already past midnight, and Livre had just caught the last subway train of the day.

She spent four pence to buy a second-class ticket. Although a third-class ticket only cost three pence, the carriage was noisy, chaotic, and crowded, and with her current beautiful appearance, it was really not suitable for her to be there.

A wise person does not stand under a crumbling wall.

Livre muttered to herself as she waited for her destination on the slightly bumpy subway.

The subway journey was smooth, arriving at the Pesfield Street station in the North End. She got off and walked for ten minutes, easily finding the elegant townhouse at number 92.

Fors's residence should be on the second floor. Liviel raised her hand and gently wiped it in front of her, subtly activating the witch's invisibility ability. Although the concealment effect was not very good, it was enough to block the sight of ordinary people.

'Once I have the opportunity to find some spiritual powder that can be used as a medium, I should be able to take the invisibility effect to another level.'

Livre pondered for a moment, then quietly climbed to the second-floor window and found that the room was still lit with warm yellow light.

The windows were drawn with thin curtains, and through the dim light, a short figure could be seen moving back and forth inside.

Could it be Ms. Fors's child? No, Ms. Fors is only in her early twenties, so young that she shouldn't have a child that age. Judging from the figure and appearance, it's more like her younger brother or sister.

Considering she might be dealing with a minor, Livre decided not to startle them and quietly slipped inside. Ms. Fors's house was a two-bedroom apartment; the living room and another bedroom had lights on, while the one with the lights off likely belonged to Ms. Fors.

Livre glanced at the window, which was unlocked. She put away the metal plate she had prepared to pick the lock, pushed open the window, and sneaked inside.

The room was dark, but Liviel could still see fairly clearly thanks to her extraordinary senses. She had only one thought: chaos!

"How could Ms. Fors's room be so messy?" Livre clicked her tongue in surprise. "She looks like an elegant and beautiful woman, but her room is so messy that it looks like it has been ransacked. There are snack wrappers scattered everywhere, crumpled manuscripts, and clothes carelessly thrown on the table and the edge of the bed... Ugh, these socks smell so strong, they're practically fermented."

Thinking of Fors's fair, delicate, and seemingly spotless feet, Livre became increasingly doubtful that she had come to the wrong place. However, the manuscripts piled haphazardly on the table clearly bore the name "Fors Wall," which was enough to prove that this was indeed her residence.

Livre dared not delay. She quickly composed herself and began searching for evidence that could exonerate Fors. Correspondence, original manuscripts—anything that could prove Bright had framed her was crucial.

Fors's room was far too cluttered, making searching extremely difficult. Livre simply piled up the things she had already looked through to the side for the time being, did a simple tidying up, and barely made enough space to move around.

Even so, in the pitch-black environment and with the cluttered furnishings, she inevitably bumped into the tables, chairs, and ornaments, making subtle collision sounds that were particularly clear in the quiet night.

Just then, a slightly surprised female voice came from outside the door:

Fors, you're back?

Livre's heart tightened, and she immediately stopped all movement and held her breath. The next second, the door was pushed open, and a small figure stood in the doorway, raising his hand to press the gas light switch on the wall.

The lights came on instantly, and Livre was able to see the other person's appearance clearly: she was about 1.5 meters tall, with a healthy wheat-colored complexion, and short, light yellow hair that fell to her shoulders, slightly messy and rough. Her features were delicate and small, and her eyes still had a youthful innocence that was not yet fully developed. However, in that youthfulness, there was an inexplicable sense of majesty that did not match her appearance, creating a strong sense of contrast.

Um... is this Ms. Fors's sister?

Liviel's gaze unconsciously swept over the other person's flat chest, and she was puzzled—it was really hard to tell whether this was a petite woman or a boy whose voice had not yet changed.

The petite woman frowned, her gaze sweeping back and forth across the room, her eyes filled with doubt. She turned to look at the window, walked over, and touched the unlocked latch, her fingertips pausing slightly.

At this moment, Liviel was standing by the desk by the window, less than two meters away from her. She didn't dare to breathe loudly, desperately suppressing her spiritual aura, afraid of being detected by the other party.

The short woman didn't lock the window; she just muttered something under her breath:

"Why isn't she back yet? Oh well, I'm not waiting for her. I'm going to sleep."

After saying that, she turned off the lights in the room, closed the door, and her footsteps gradually faded away.

Before long, the lights in the living room and the other bedroom went out one after another, plunging the entire house into complete darkness and silence, with only the sound of Livr's slightly rapid heartbeat remaining.

She breathed a sigh of relief, the tension in her heart easing slightly, but she couldn't help but feel a little puzzled: this petite woman looked more mature than she had expected, not like a minor... Could she be the friend Fors had mentioned before?

Livre moved cautiously again, her fingertips quickly rummaging through the messy desk drawers.

Finally, after rummaging through all the manuscripts and miscellaneous items on the desk, an opened letter slid out from under a stack of manuscripts. The sender's name was clearly written on the envelope: Bright.

Livre was overjoyed and was about to reach for it when the door was suddenly kicked open with a bang!

The short woman burst in, gripping a pistol tightly in one hand and carrying a lantern in the other, her imposing voice booming:

"Don't move!"

But after she shouted, she froze. Before her was only an empty, messy room, with only the letter that had slipped off the table lying silently on the floor.

The petite woman frowned, quickly turned on the gas light switch on the wall, and scanned every corner of the room warily.

Livre held her breath, shrinking into the gap between the desk and the bed, inwardly groaning: Sure enough! She was the friend Fors had mentioned! She had almost been fooled by her petite appearance; she hadn't expected her to be so vigilant, and even carrying a pistol!

The petite woman gripped her gun and meticulously searched every possible hiding place in the room—under the bed, in the wardrobe, behind the desk, even the pile of clutter in the corner—but she found no one. She turned to look at the window again; it remained tightly shut. In the time it took her to kick the door open and rush in, there simply wasn't enough time to escape through the window.

However, the short woman had no intention of leaving. She still gripped her gun, standing in the doorway, staring intently into the room. She had sensed something was wrong when she entered Fors's room: it was too clean, clearly someone had tidied it up—something Fors wouldn't do. Coupled with her extraordinary spiritual awareness, she had a premonition: there was definitely something wrong with this room!

Time ticked by, and Livre's invisibility was gradually wearing off. She could sense that the short woman exuded an air of authority that commanded obedience, somewhat similar to Inspector Cleverville, though not as powerful. The short woman was likely a lower-ranking Beyonder within Cleverville's hierarchy. Her spiritual awareness was weaker than Fors's, and she hadn't detected her invisibility.

After a moment's thought, Livre decided to take the initiative to break the deadlock.

She activated her assassin abilities, striving to remain light and almost silent as she slowly approached the petite woman.

The petite woman stared intently into the room, completely unaware that Livre had silently moved to her left and in front of her.

Just as her gaze shifted to the right, Livre seized the opportunity, swiftly reaching out and snatching the pistol from her hand, then retreating.

Caught off guard, the short woman's face was filled with astonishment. She turned her head sharply and saw Livia gradually emerging from hiding. She instinctively raised her fist to punch Livia in the face, her eyes filled with vigilance and anger.

"and many more!"

Livre nimbly took another step back, dodging her fist, then softened her tone, using the gentle voice characteristic of an instigator:

“I meant no harm; Fors and I are friends.”

"friend?"

The petite woman, sensing the kindness, paused her attack, but her eyes remained wary, and she did not completely let her guard down.

Livre nodded, a gentle expression on her face:

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Monroe. I am an actress with the Paria Theatre Company. I met Fors because of a script."

The petite woman looked on with a sudden realization:

“I am Hugh Deercha. What brings you here?”

Livre's expression darkened, and her tone became serious:

"Yes, I think you probably don't know what happened to Ms. Fors, do you?"

Xiu frowned, a sense of unease rising in his heart. He nodded slightly, signaling her to continue.

Livre said, word by word:

"Ms. Fors has been detained by the police for investigation on charges of inciting the public against the government."

Xiu was stunned for a moment, his somewhat immature face full of astonishment:

"How could that be! She's usually as lazy as a salted fish! How could she possibly do something like this!"

Livre nodded:

“You’re right, she’s been wronged. I’m here to find evidence and clear her name.”

As she spoke, she picked up the envelope that had fallen to the ground and began to read it. Hugh, with his fluffy blond hair, also came over and stood on tiptoe to read it with Livia:

To my dearest Fors Wall:

Zhan Xin'an.

I have long admired Ms. Fors's vivid writing style, her ability to capture people's hearts, and her skill in creating memorable characters with delicate strokes. Therefore, I am writing to invite you to create a play for the Paria Theatre Company with "witches" as its central theme. I hope you will accept my invitation.

Regarding this play, I have a few preliminary thoughts that I'd like to share with you. I hope you can break away from the traditional, fixed image of witches, highlighting a strong sense of contrast. Don't limit yourself to black and white; let the characters be both controversial and relatable. This might make the play more interesting and allow it to carry more complex and relatable qualities.

As you know, life isn't easy these days. There are always things that don't go as planned, and many people have unspeakable grievances and helplessness in their hearts. If the script could convey the voices of ordinary people through the characters and the plot, it might give the play more weight and resonate more with the audience.

The specific creative process is entirely up to you, and I will never interfere with your freedom. I only hope that you can put more thought into making the story both engaging and subtly conveying deeper emotions. It doesn't need to be too straightforward; just hint at it. After all, being too explicit can easily lose its charm, which would be counterproductive.

You have complete freedom to create your own characters and plot. For example, giving the witch more unique traits might have unexpected effects. All we ask for is a work that touches the heart and leaves the viewer with something to think about.

If you agree, please rest assured regarding the payment. I will pay half as a deposit, and the remaining balance will be paid in full after the script is finalized. The compensation is absolutely generous. I look forward to your early reply and joining you on this creative journey. I also hope that this play will live up to your expectations.

Best wishes

Baria Theatre Company, Brett

February 7, 1349

(Note: Envelope marked: To: Forth Wall, 92 Pesfield Street, North End)

"In this letter, Brett did not explicitly mention specific creative details, but only asked Fors to create a play with witches as the core theme, with a strong sense of contrast, the core of which was to break people's preconceived notions about witches and highlight a strong sense of contrast."

Livre was perplexed. Judging from the contents of the letters, Bright had not directly asked Fors to write a plot involving a "witch killing a corrupt bureaucrat." She carefully examined the remaining letters and found that all of them were similar in wording, without any explicit instructions.

Clearly, Brett only hinted at things to Fors in a veiled manner and did not directly interfere with the actual writing process; the core content of the script was ultimately completed by Fors herself. Therefore, even if these letters were submitted as evidence, it would likely not be enough to completely exonerate her.

Mr. Bright is truly cunning. Did he foresee this situation all along? Or does he have some far-reaching plan?

Livre pondered silently, her brows furrowing slightly.

Xiu stopped standing on tiptoe, kicked his heels wearily, and complained:

"That fool Fors, if she had discussed the scriptwriting with me earlier, I could have helped her avoid some legal risks. Unfortunately, she's too lazy to do that..."

Then, she looked at Livre and tentatively asked:

"What else do you know about Fors, besides the author?"

Livre sensed Hugh's probing and said directly:

"She is a Sequence 9 apprentice."

Xiu nodded as if he had expected this:

"For her, no door, whether it's a detention center or a prison, can confine her, as long as she doesn't reveal that she's an extraordinary being and attract extraordinary-level confinement. I still believe she won't reveal that, after all, she's just lazy, not stupid."

Livre agreed, then turned to Fors's close friend and asked: