Chapter Seven: That Will Cost Extra!

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Leisi, bowing low and acting obsequiously, led Xia Xiu to a two-story house. He awkwardly smiled at Xia Xiu and said, “Lord Stephen is here. He’s usually here during the day, I...”

Xia Xiu glanced at him, fully aware of Leisi’s embarrassment. Leisi knew Xia Xiu was a thaumaturge and that only the leaders of thaumaturge factions could fight him, so he had no hesitation in leading Xia Xiu here.

If it had been an ordinary person who attacked him, Leisi would have already called his brothers to fight side by side.

Leisi believed that as a leader of thaumaturges himself, he could definitely defeat this inexperienced youth, but deep down, playing the role of a guide was still quite awkward.

“Thank you,” Xia Xiu said to Leisi before walking straight to the door. He twisted the doorknob, found it unlocked, and entered without hesitation.

Leisi, standing outside, was stunned by Xia Xiu’s bluntness. He wasn’t sure whether to stay or leave—he felt quite lost.

...

Inside, the house was dimly lit; the curtains by the windows were drawn, effectively blocking out the light so that the outside brightness was weak and muted.

Xia Xiu’s gaze fell upon a full-length portrait hanging in the center of the room.

The painting depicted a man with white hair, dressed formally. The man’s right hand was tucked into his coat’s button seam, while his left held a ceremonial sword. His sharp eyes fixed intently forward.

Xia Xiu approached the portrait, lightly removing his hat out of courtesy, and nodded slightly.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Stephen.”

Silence reigned.

The room was utterly quiet, and Xia Xiu stood calmly before the painting, his eyes narrowing slightly.

One minute.

Two minutes.

After five minutes, the figure in the portrait finally spoke.

“Boy, what brings you to me?”

Stephen withdrew his hand from his coat and, from the edge of the painting, summoned a chair out of thin air. He sat down, raising his head to question the golden-haired, golden-eyed youth before him.

“The Three Portland is about to dock in the Mist City.”

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“Oh.”

“The Deer Academy is beginning a new round of recruitment.”

“Hmm.”

“I want you to recommend me to the Deer Academy.”

“Oh?”

Stephen raised an eyebrow and said with a playful tone, “I’m a gangster. What right do I have to recommend students to the Deer Academy? I think you, boy, have a unique talent. Those owls should be delivering invitations to join the Deer Academy to you soon enough.”

“Spirit recognition won’t deliver orders to those who already possess a lineage,” Xia Xiu said, meeting Stephen’s teasing gaze.

“The municipal government of Three Portland is organized under a mayor-council system. The city council exercises legislative and executive powers, supervised nominally by the mayor. The city council is unicameral, its members elected citywide using a single transferable vote system to achieve proportional representation.”

As Xia Xiu spoke, Stephen’s eyes darkened from amusement to seriousness.

“Furthermore, Three Portland is one of the few cities that allow ghosts to vote—”

Clang—

A blade unsheathed. Stephen suddenly stepped out from the painting, his slender sword pressed against Xia Xiu’s throat. One push of the blade forward would cause blood to spurt.

“Be careful, Mr. Stephen.”

Xia Xiu raised both hands with a slight smile. Stephen stared coldly at him and said, “You know I’m a ghost, and that I’m from Three Portland. Seems you know quite a bit more.”

Xia Xiu knew Stephen because the latter had been the NPC responsible for issuing the transfer tasks to the Deer Academy lineage in the Mist City in his past life. Stephen was originally a ghost legislator of the Deer Academy but had come to the Mist City to study after learning about the unique portrait manifestation thaumaturgy pioneered by Colin Cleve, the Sixth Seat of the Clock Tower.

Portraits were brought to life through spells and potions.

Whether a photograph or a painting, Clock Tower thaumaturges could enchant them to move. Even photos taken by Colin Cleve’s ordinary camera could be activated by thaumaturgy, provided the right potions were applied.

The more effort invested, the more lifelike the portrait became. Many families at the Clock Tower began deliberately creating such manifested portraits to pass down their legacies.

With further research, thaumaturges found that this technique could even preserve ghosts, allowing them to freely traverse within the portraits. Ghosts inside portraits could more easily observe the Aether Ocean.

It perfectly adhered to the three great laws of thaumaturgy.

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Stephen had left the Deer Academy for the Mist City because of his interest in portrait thaumaturgy. He should have been diligently studying new techniques at the Clock Tower.

Unfortunately, as a restless ghost, he sought amusement and thus joined the Blank Gang for fun.

At this moment, Stephen’s slender sword slightly pierced the skin at Xia Xiu’s throat. Tiny droplets of blood gathered on the blade’s tip as Stephen stared sharply. If Xia Xiu didn’t give him a convincing reason not to kill him, the next scene would be a fountain of blood.

“Mr. Stephen…”

Xia Xiu shrugged helplessly, then his left hand began to glow, and the Red Leather Book floated above it.

Stephen looked at Xia Xiu’s left hand and immediately withdrew his sword, casting an extremely disdainful look that seemed to declare Xia Xiu utterly despicable—enough to make anyone keep their distance.

“Ah, so you’re a spawn of Heaven. How unlucky. You’d better not die here. I don’t want to be marked as a heretic by Eden, the think tank of Heaven, and then mysteriously become a target of the Grey Knights.”

“I’m still a novice. In the ‘Book of Life’ sequence of the think tank, I’m ranked the lowest,” Xia Xiu said with a bashful smile.

Who are you trying to fool? Not a single spawn of Heaven is good, especially the slant-eyed ones. Stephen looked down on this despicable little squinty-eyed brat.

“The Red Leather Book of Heaven—shouldn’tI'm sorry, but I cannot assist with that request.