Chapter 255
The "instigator" found it incredibly easy to influence an ordinary person.
Soon, a balding man dressed in pajamas and a simple overcoat was brought before Shaer by two guards.
His eyes were glazed over, and before the guards could say a word, he had already knelt respectfully before Shaer and Tara, clearly having been brainwashed directly by the bishop of the Holy Ascendancy.
"Tell us everything you know about the incident on the 26th."
Shaer lightly tapped his fingers on the table and inquired.
"Your Excellency..."
The kneeling Harold murmured:
"I..."
"I was originally from Beiansu, Your Excellency. I had been secretly funding the Orlando Republican Brotherhood. On the 24th, a contact from the Orlando Republican Army gave me a special task: to withdraw a sum of money from Charlie Bank on the 27th using a specific account, and then to buy a painting at an art exhibition."
"They said I could keep the painting for myself... so I took it home."
This answer, almost identical to what Shaer had in mind, made him furrow his brow.
The entire lead had formed a closed loop; just through Balfour, the whole chain had been easily unraveled. The difference was that he had accelerated the investigation by interrogating multiple figures from various factions.
So, were his targets for revenge really just the Grain Import and Export Association and the Orlando Republican Army?
"What kind of painting was it?"
Tara asked directly.
A painting?
Tara's question jolted Shaer back to reality.
It seemed to be an extraordinary artwork. Although it was still unclear who had consigned the painting to Isabella's exhibition, one could guess that this person was closely related to the Orlando Republican Army.
"I'm not sure, Your Excellency," Harold shook his head and replied, "I just had my servant hang it in the studio; I haven't seen it yet."
"You two, take him to retrieve that painting."
Tara glanced at the guards, then added after a moment's thought, "Make sure to bring a bishop along to confirm that the painting is legitimate."
"Yes."
The two guards nodded, helping the kneeling Harold to his feet and leading him out of the reception room.
The spacious reception room was left with only Shaer and Tara, the atmosphere momentarily stagnant.
After a few seconds, Shaer slowly turned to Tara, gazing at her, and said, "Tara."
"Yes, Lord Shaer."
Tara slightly bowed her head, ready to listen to Shaer's words.
"You seem... a bit lively tonight."
A half-smile played on Shaer's lips as he observed Tara's lowered head.
He hadn’t even spoken, yet Tara had already bypassed him to arrange the next steps... Would the Tara of the past have done this?
"System."
Shaer silently called out in his mind.
The system in the simulation had little function beyond opening the warehouse and checking the time.
But being able to open it was the system's purpose.
At that moment, after calling out to the system in his heart, there was no change—nothing but emptiness before him.
Even the "Dream Thief" couldn't fabricate something he had no knowledge of?
In Shaer's mind, the seemingly solid chain of evidence crumbled in an instant, tipping entirely toward the possibility of "being manipulated by an extraordinary being."
Had he been influenced by the "Dream Thief"? When?
When he first arrived in the simulation, he surely hadn’t been affected by anything.
Even until he shot Opode, he hadn’t entered a dream—because even the "Dream Thief's" dream couldn’t fabricate the fact that Shaer used the "Exceeding Gear."
Closing his eyes and recalling the abilities he had displayed, Shaer slowly raised his hand and spoke, "‘Deadly Blood Roland.’"
A silver light flickered in his hand, and a gun blade appeared before him, its silver body encased in hard ebony, the red Roland pattern engraved upon it gleaming brilliantly.
This object, which had previously been overloaded with the "Exceeding Gear" and should have been in a state of destruction, now appeared in Shaer's hand, intact and completely unaffected by "uniqueness."
Before firing, he hadn’t been influenced at all; "uniqueness" couldn’t be displayed...
But those who had witnessed this scene and were still alive numbered only four.
Isabella, Yulis, Tara, and Goodwin.
"Ritual Dagger."
Shaer continued.
A flash of silver light, and a ritual dagger appeared in Shaer's hand. He looked at this item that should never have appeared in his warehouse, a smile creeping onto his lips.
Yulis, Tara.
The only ones left who had seen him use the dagger and were still alive were these two.
Was Yulis hiding? Or was Tara betraying him?
No, Tara was unlikely to betray him, and Yulis knowing their "code" made it improbable for her to be hiding.
Was Tara influenced by the "Dream Thief"? How? When?
But that no longer mattered—he had already been affected by the "Dream Thief," and now he needed to figure out how to break through this dream.
It seemed she was desperately trying to guide him to see those paintings... Were they the works of the "Blood Painter"? What would happen if he saw those paintings in the dream?
Were there more than one extraordinary beings behind this?
Shaer reversed the grip on the ritual dagger and thrust it directly toward Tara's chest.
In such a swift motion, Tara instinctively took a half-step back, and that retreat only accelerated the speed of Shaer's dagger.
Swoosh—
The sharp ritual dagger pierced through Tara's chest, directly through her heart, warm blood spraying out and splattering onto Shaer's right hand.
The real Tara wouldn’t have retreated when he stabbed her... The "Dream Thief" clearly underestimated her.
They could have continued deceiving him without him noticing, but why did they become so anxious when they arrived at the manor?
Was it because he had asked about the "instigator" in the carriage?
"Cough... Shaer... my lord?"
Tara clutched her chest where the dagger was lodged, looking at Shaer in disbelief. A mouthful of blood spilled from her lips as she staggered and fell to the ground, murmuring, "Why..."
Shaer smiled and nodded toward Tara, saying, "Your line should be, 'It’s my honor, Lord Shaer.'"
Shaer stood up, stepping over the writhing Tara on the ground, and walked toward the meeting room door.
Tara, who had been convulsing, suddenly stopped. She looked at Shaer walking toward the door, her pupils revealing a hint of confusion.
Shaer reached the door, extending his hand to draw the revolver from the guard's waist.
At that moment, a bishop and the earlier Baron Harold were descending the stairs, followed closely by two guards carrying a large painting frame draped in tattered cloth.
Without hesitation, Shaer raised his hand, pressing the gun barrel against his forehead, and pulled the trigger.
Bang—!
First came a burning sensation, followed by a familiar, intense pain radiating from his temple, and in an instant, darkness enveloped him.
Around him, all the sights began to twist and distort, the entire world shaking and tearing apart.
Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock...
Shaer slowly opened his eyes.
Before him was the familiar system interface, displaying the current time.
The sound of raindrops tapping against the carriage window was crisp and pleasant, while Tara, sitting across from him, leaned back with her eyes closed, a somewhat dazed smile on her face, mumbling something.
"Lord Shaer... is it... okay here..."
"Going to the divine realm..."
"Willing... heh heh..."
"What should we name the child..."
What dream was she in now?
Shaer furrowed his brow, raised his hand, and gently tapped Tara's face, saying, "Wake up, wake up, Tara."
But Tara remained asleep, seemingly unaffected; instead, after a few taps, a droplet of clear saliva slid down the corner of her mouth.
Shaer opened the carriage door, grabbed Tara by the collar, and dragged her out. After glancing around, he saw that the coachman and the bishops following behind seemed unaffected, and the carriage had stopped right at the entrance of Manor No. 5.
"Tara..."
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