Sorcerer’s Handbook

Chapter 267: Deception

Chapter 267: Deception

When Igor finally joined for breakfast, he winked at Ashe, who understood telepathically. After breakfast was over, Ashe made his way to Igor’s room, where the Con Artist was already waiting for him.

Ashe made himself comfortable, sitting on the bed without any hesitation: “What mission were you and Annan on last night?”

“It’s a long story,” Igor said, settling into an armchair. He picked up a bottle and poured a bit of sky-blue liquor into his glass.

Ashe then noticed the presence of a liquor cabinet in Igor’s room. In these external pleasures, Annan was very generous to them. Typically, all it took was a word to Banjeet, and the Butler would order takeout to bring whatever they wanted.

There was also another possibility—Gospel was a highly developed kingdom, where food ingredients like meat, eggs, milk, and alcohol were almost basic social welfare commodities. No amount of consumption by Ashe and his companions was considered wasteful; in fact, it even promoted the internal circulation of the Gospel Kingdom.

The most fundamental manifestation of any developed society is food. In Blood Moon Kingdom, even the lowest ogres could eat their fill of meat every day; Gospel Kingdom had no reason not to achieve this. If the commoners here used red wine as mouthwash, steak as a staple, and milk for baths, with the entire population’s BMI well over 30, Ashe wouldn’t be surprised at all.

“Where’s mine?” Ashe asked.

After a moment’s thought, Igor fetched another glass and poured water for Ashe from a pitcher.

“Better than nothing.”

Ashe rolled his eyes at him, took the glass, and drank it in one gulp. Then Igor said, “The person last night drank the poison I prepared just like that.”

Pfft!

Ashe spat out the water in surprise, but Igor, prepared for this, waved his hand lightly and a breeze instantly blew in the room, sending the water Ashe had spat out right back at him.

“Last night, Annan took me to an aerial estate in the Double-tiered City,” Igor said, gazing out at the Inverted City. “You might think Annan’s home is already quite nice, but if you saw that estate, you’d think this place is for the poor.”

“The ceiling is made of heat-resistant glass, allowing for brilliant sunlight during the day and a view of the stars at night. The courtyard boasts a garden that blooms all year round, and the estate owner seems to have a keen interest in alchemical creatures, even setting up a small zoo filled with chimera alchemical beasts.”

“Every exposed surface in the estate, like the walls and floors, uses the most expensive Miracle materials, powered by solar energy for everyday use, constantly maintaining a ‘clean’ Miracle. There is no dust inside, and all areas are sterile. The only two servants are nearly lifelike alchemical maids—one with long, straight black hair, tall and sultry, and the other a petite, pink-haired loli. If it weren’t for the Mind Spirit’s ineffectiveness on them, I would never have realized they were alchemical creations.”

“But in that grand, luxurious estate lives just one person—his name is Count Russell. Although the noble system in the Gospel Kingdom has declined, there are still remnants of the old era, or rather, the new era’s Wealthy who wish to be remnants of the old.”

“He looks very young, with tender white skin and dressed in a silk robe. But his weary tone and the undisguised loathsome look he gave Annan when speaking are enough to prove he should have been buried long ago, only his power has preserved his quality of life.”

“Interestingly, he seemed even more interested in me,” Igor shrugged. “Perhaps that’s why Miss Annan brought me along—let’s skip the details. All you need to know is that we put the estate owner to sleep.”

“Asleep?”

“Yes, asleep,” Igor twirled his ring. “Given his physical condition and the life-support setup we arranged, he’ll probably sleep for about five months—then he’ll turn into Harvey’s favorite breeding ground for maggots. As an important figure, his corpse will definitely attract the Red Cap after five months. But since even Annan doesn’t care, I naturally don’t either, especially since our Contract will be over by then.”

“As a reward for assisting with the sleep, Annan and I cut off his hands and gouged out his eyes. This allowed us to bypass the estate’s fingerprint and iris verification and access the inner sanctum. Naturally, there was a spree of zero-cost acquisitions, though most of the items, including Contract documents and bank credentials, were taken by Annan since I couldn’t easily liquidate them.”

“The only thing I managed to obtain was this.”

Igor walked over to his returned luggage and pulled out a black velvet box, handing it to Ashe.

Ashe opened the box to find a light red gradient mask that felt almost as smooth as silk yet was very durable. It fit comfortably on his head, breathable as if he wasn’t wearing anything at all, and the mask seemed to have an automatic adjustment feature. Within three seconds of putting it on, it perfectly conformed to the shape of Ashe’s nose and mouth.

He turned to look in the mirror. Combined with the Dark Red Trench Coat Lise had given him, Ashe now possessed a mysterious and ascetic allure, the kind you’d see in a film or TV drama, portraying a villain capable of challenging conventional morals.

Ashe was quite pleased with his appearance—his own assessment was ‘so handsome it makes one wish they didn’t have to defecate.’

“This is said to be the last creation of a Sanctuary Alchemist. Though it appears devoid of arcane energy, wearing it can block most mind probes and significantly enhance one’s charm. It’s known as the ‘Mind Mask,’” Igor said casually as he sipped some blue wine. “If you like it, it’s yours.”

“Really?”

“As a Mind Sorcerer, I have no need for an Item to cover my face; my expressions are my weapon.” Igor seemed genuinely indifferent. “Actually, there wasn’t much else in that secret room that caught my eye. I only took this because I remembered you needed a mask.”

Ashe blinked and removed the mask, saying, “So this is a special gift you picked out for me?”

“If you want to think of it that way, I don’t mind,” Igor said, swirling his glass of blue wine nonchalantly.

A gift just for me?

A unique gift just for me?

Watching Ashe’s expressions shift from confusion to touched, then slightly embarrassed, and back to confusion, Igor observed with a mix of amusement and indifference.

The Cult Leader paused thoughtfully, then suddenly turned to look at the suitcase in the corner of the room.

Igor raised an eyebrow and stood up, saying, “Alright, it’s time for you to leave. I have other matters to attend to—”

Ashe rushed over and opened the suitcase, finding it filled with black velvet boxes, identical to the one Igor had just given him.

He turned to Igor, pointed at the suitcase, and asked:

“What are these?”

“…What if I told you they were just to stuff under the bed? Would you believe that?”

“So, was the manor fake? Was Count Russell also fake?” Ashe held the Mind Mask and continued, “You just bought this mask randomly to give to me, but to increase its value, you made me believe it was a special gift meant only for me, crafting such a long story?”

Igor shook his head, his face displaying a ‘pearls before swine’ type of disappointment: “Gifts, gifts, the item is secondary; the gesture is what matters. Would you have been so happy just now if I hadn’t imbued this gift with so much meaning?”

“If a gift has no story behind it, it’s just a cold piece of handicraft. A true Mind Sorcerer is someone who imbues every ordinary object with thrilling significance.”

“Have you ever watched a magic show? Your behavior just now, like a child on stage smartly revealing the secret of the trick loudly, not only dampens the spirit of the performer but also robs yourself of the enjoyment of the show.”

Igor earnestly advised, “Fortunately, I don’t mind, but don’t do it again, Ashe. Others might think you’re insensitive to the mood.”

“Why does it sound like it’s my fault, when I was almost deceived by you?” Ashe retorted irritably, “So how many times were you planning to repeat that story?”

“Do I look that lazy?” Igor remarked. “Of course, I tailor a specific story for each client. For someone like you, Ashe, with your chaotic good nature, you’d definitely enjoy a story about the dirty deeds of high society being double-crossed. As for Harvey, that chaotic neutral Necromancer, I’m planning to weave a tale about him discovering a blood-stained torture device while eliminating a gang. And naturally, the story for Lise will be different…”

“Igor, you really play your cards right with Green Tea,” Ashe teased.

“Don’t betray me,” Igor warned. “I’m just trying to curry favor with them through gifts. Don’t say after you leave that the mask was from me. ‘I only give gifts to you, nobody else’ is a crucial point for gaining favor.”

“I really couldn’t care less about getting involved in your schemes,” Ashe responded irritably. “And to think… You had it all so detailed, with names and everything, I almost believed you.”

“Honestly, the fact that you saw through this charade makes me think I need to reflect,” Igor contemplated. “If even you can’t be fooled, I definitely need to fine-tune the pacing of my stories… Go on, I have to wait for the next client.”

Ashe huffed, picked up the mask, and headed for the door. But just before leaving, he paused and said, “That being said, I really like this mask, thanks.”

“Please! When you get back! Immediately record this in your journal!” Igor called out. “Remember to be forever grateful and repay Mr. Bukin for his great kindness.”

Watching Ashe leave the room, Igor went over to tidy up and stash the suitcase under the bed. He then prepared a bath in the bathroom—not just out of habit. After a busy night, he felt sticky all over, and the warm bath was heavenly relief.

After bathing and brushing his teeth, Igor inadvertently resonated with ‘Revelation’, and saw foam on the mirror forming the words—

“Don’t let anyone know you’re pleased.”

Igor caught his reflection in the mirror, his lips curving into a smile, and he chuckled softly to himself.