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Chapter 31: Lin Qi’s Unique Money-Making Method
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“A laureate?”
Viya reached up to remove the laureate from her forehead. A faint, ethereal sensation traveled through her fingertips, sending a shiver down her spine.
She held the laureate carefully, bringing it closer to examine:
The laureate was crafted from crystal, with intricate carvings on the leaf-shaped crystals at the front. These carvings depicted countless mermaids encircling and serving a central vortex—a breathtakingly beautiful design.
Even without appraisal, it was clear that this laureate was of extraordinary quality.
“Incredible…”
Upon touching Siren’s Requiem, Viya immediately understood its abilities.
She had been wondering how she would continue “singing” outside the sea after leaving its unique environment.
This laureate provided her with the answer.
With a thought, Banshee’s Kiss materialized in her other hand. She placed the two laureates side by side for comparison.
A few seconds later—
Both laureates vanished from her palms.
Viya coughed to mask her embarrassment: “The gap is… quite significant.”
From appearance alone, the difference between the two was glaringly obvious. If one were a girl from the slums, the other was akin to a radiant young lady adorned in gold and jewels.
When she first obtained Banshee’s Kiss, as her very first laureate, Viya couldn’t resist taking it out every few minutes to admire it.
But now?
Viya admitted there was some element of fickleness in her preference.
At that moment, a faint, lingering voice echoed in her ear:
“New skill implemented. Not bad.”
After opening his inventory, Lin Qi gazed at the new skill in his skill bar with satisfaction.
Indeed!
Previous events had almost explicitly hinted that this stemmed from Mr. Yog’s will, but now it was fully confirmed… Viya nodded inwardly.
At the same time, a question lingered in her mind.
According to both the Revelation and Lady Minstrel, Mr. Yog remained silent and non-interfering, with only His believers reaching out to Him unilaterally.
If that was the case, how did He convey His will to Minstrel?
But evidently, this great being had no intention of addressing her doubts. Instead, His attention seemed focused elsewhere.
“The main quest has refreshed… waiting?” Lin Qi muttered to himself.
He referred to waiting for the official start of the academy term, approximately three in-game days.
Initially, he planned to skip these three days and push forward with the main storyline. However, upon reconsideration, he abandoned the idea and decided to use this time to explore the map instead.
Judging by the current pace, once the new main quest began, various side quests and exploration areas would flood in, likely keeping him extremely busy.
“This is farewell… probably won’t return here again.”
This statement abruptly dampened Viya’s previously cheerful mood, filling her with an inexplicable sense of melancholy.
Though she had jokingly said similar things to herself before, those remarks felt more like idle musings. If she achieved fame and success in the inner rings someday, Viya imagined returning here to reconnect with familiar faces.
But when a deity personally instructed her to bid farewell, it meant something inevitable would occur, preventing her from ever returning to this place.
Perhaps death, perhaps exile, perhaps…
But soon, Viya composed herself. Worrying about an uncertain future and scaring herself wasn’t her style.
“In that case, it’s time to make some money!”
Lin Qi made up his mind. While grinding experience points, he could also test how effective his new skill was.
Siren’s Requiem—from the name alone, it sounded like something meant for the late game. Even if its stats were restricted due to level constraints, its mechanics were undoubtedly sound.
Make money?
Viya nearly choked on her breath.
She remembered that Mr. Yog’s understanding of money seemed somewhat different from ordinary people’s…
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Fekalin Abandoned Textile Factory—nowadays, calling it “abandoned” felt somewhat inappropriate.
The once rust-covered walls had been refurbished, integrated with mana circuits, and the entire factory looked brand-new, clean, and tidy.
Tourists queued orderly around the caution tape, chatting noisily. Some art enthusiasts even traveled long distances to capture the scene.
After the case was exposed, it attracted investments from wealthy merchants. Within just a few days, the site was transformed into a tourist attraction, drawing crowds curious or skeptical about the incident. Ticket sales alone generated hundreds of gold coins.
“This… isn’t this a bit inappropriate?” A young girl stood on the second floor. Despite the weather not yet being cold, she wore winter-like clothing, wrapping herself tightly.
“What’s inappropriate?” Henry held a steaming cup of coffee in his right hand. “This is tacitly approved by the higher-ups. Rather than letting it cause public panic, demonizing it makes more sense.”
“Besides, the scene here has already been sanitized. There won’t be any issues.”
In all likelihood, after some time, this incident would become another urban legend, eventually appearing on screens and stages.
Such a thing might seem absurd in other countries, but in Rothesia, where even the contemporary executors were eccentric, it felt perfectly normal.
Henry took a sip of coffee indifferently and asked:
“Rather than worrying about the work of adults, how are you feeling now?”
“The people at the church were very kind. With their guidance, I feel much better,” Eve replied timidly.
“To be honest, I’d prefer our conversation to take place somewhere more relaxed,” Henry complained. “Bringing a victim back to the crime scene is far from humane.”
Judicature’s attitude toward this matter was unusually indifferent, evident from assigning follow-up handling to Henry, a newly recruited officer.
“It’s fine,” Eve whispered. “I was mostly kept locked up and couldn’t see what was happening outside.”
Henry picked up the report beside him, skimmed through it once again despite having read it dozens of times, then looked up and said:
“Yes, human transmutation is an absolute taboo in alchemy. If they succeeded, all of you who were kidnapped would have been converted into wealth.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Henry noticed Eve’s pale face and stopped speaking.
“Did I scare you?”
“Y-Yes, a little,” Eve stammered.
“Sorry.” Henry set the report aside. “If it’s convenient, I need you to recall the scene at that time. It’s crucial for our investigation.”
“Okay.” Eve quickly nodded. That was why she had returned here today.
Henry added: “Everything you say from now on will be recorded.”
Eve nodded again, carefully choosing her words before beginning:
“My hometown is Yorke Town. It’s beautiful there. On a May morning, my mother and I took a carriage to Rothesia. I remember… yes…”
“Take a deep breath,” Henry gestured calmingly. “No need to be nervous. Your account will only serve as supplementary evidence.”
“I understand.” Eve took several deep breaths to steady herself.
Her voice grew louder:
“There were many people at the station, and I got separated from my mother. I found a staff member and asked for directions to the broadcast station, planning to meet her there.”
“Heading to a landmark location to regroup—a reasonable choice,” Henry commented.
“But on the way, a group of people suddenly surrounded me. They claimed my father owed a large debt and fled. At first, I thought it was a scam, but they actually showed me a loan contract.”
“Didn’t you consider the possibility that the contract was forged?” Henry asked.
“I… I was too panicked at the time.”
“Continue,” Henry nodded slightly.
“I was at a loss, but then a man appeared, claiming to be my brother. He chased them away and warned me about that infamous gang, Old Fire Gang.”
“A gang operation—those people were merely distractions to lower your guard against the man,” Henry deduced without much thought.
“Yes… The kind man said he could take me to the broadcast station, but along the way, I noticed the path growing narrower and the crowd thinning. By the time I realized something was wrong, I blacked out.”
“When I woke up, I was locked in a filthy space filled with cages. Each cage held someone around my age.”
“Wait,” Henry interjected. “You mean everyone inside was your peer. Does this imply that the ritual had specific age requirements for its sacrifices?”
“I don’t know.”
Eve shook her head, recalling suffocating memories. Her breathing grew rapid:
“Then… I don’t know how long it was. Someone brought us food when suddenly a terrified scream erupted, followed by gunshots. The commotion drew everyone’s attention, causing them to forget our cage was still open.”
“Taking advantage of that, I and the others escaped.”
“Only then did I realize I had been locked in a basement. Through a crack, we witnessed a scene I’ll never forget.”
Eve’s voice trembled:
“A strange altar stood in the center. A person wielding a broken crystal danced slowly before the crowd. Their movements were so slow that I could clearly see each one—and each movement signified a death…”
“Do you remember what that person looked like?” Henry’s expression tightened, and he quickly pressed for details.
Past memories pierced her mind like a rusty blade, one scene flashing after another under the splattering of hot blood and the cruel symphony…
Ice-blue eyes.
Eve clutched her head in pain, overwhelmed by the flood of traumatic memories.
She gasped for air.
“All right, all right, rest for now,” Henry comforted, crouching beside her. “You’re safe now. All of that is over…”
He cracked a joke, attempting to lighten the mood.
“Based on my experience, seasoned murderers rarely return to the scene.”
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