books44 Chapter 113 The Collapse of Karasuma Renya's Residence
Chapter 113 The Collapse of Karasuma Renya's Residence
"Hmph, this is what happens when you talk about others."
In the control room of the attic directly above, within the miniature monitor installed on the portrait in the conference hall, the completely shattered poker face of the Karasuma clan was reflected in the eyes of the man and the crow.
Kuromon sneered, a silent mockery playing on his lips. He rested the lubricated AK47 against his shoulder, quickly familiarizing himself with the controls from memory.
Standing on the coat rack beside the chair, the crow scrutinized his battle maid outfit and shook its head helplessly.
"After all, no one would have imagined that the most authoritative and ancient Lord Karasuma Renya, who is usually not to be offended by anyone, would disguise himself as a maid."
"Maybe they like it when they're young, but they won't be able to wear it when they're old."
As the crow stared, several images flashed before its eyes: in a strange, brightly lit room, the images on the screens on the walls were so clear they seemed immersive, and the young man Karasuma Renya was dressed as a maid, serving a group of strangely dressed young people...
"Can you please respect my privacy?"
The scene was abruptly interrupted, switching to an even more montage of various birds' fluffy rear ends!
The crow quickly shook its head, trying to forget this tacky scene.
Ever since discovering his mind-reading ability, this capricious man has indulged his thoughts, constantly switching between different ideas in his mind and then flashing back to previous ones. Just watching him makes one's eyes spin!
"Ugh."
The crow sighed in a very human way, jumped into Black Gate's arms, and kindly advised, "Aren't you tired of doing this? Be careful you don't go crazy if you don't process one thought."
Although he knew the crow in his hand wasn't the real thing, the little bird still hopped into his arms willingly, and Heimen felt perfectly at ease touching the ground.
"Thank you for your concern. But with the elixir of immortality, even if the brain is overloaded and damaged, it should recover quickly, right? Or is it that even mysticism can't compensate for mental damage?"
"Who knows? You are the most peculiar one in the past thousand years, even I can't see through you."
There's a saying that goes, "A secret makes a man man."
Stopping its pointless probing, the crow inhaled the alluring fragrance emanating from within the black gate's shell, its round eyes darting around before it to the desk in front of it, laden with alchemical tools.
Multi-necked flasks, crucibles, and stills—such delicate instruments were covered in dust, clearly unused for a long time. In front of these professional instruments, a glass teapot from a local shop steamed under the heat of a stove, its black liquid gradually turning golden, then crimson.
Its dark eyes curved into two crescent moons as it tirelessly began a new topic: "Aren't you afraid your subordinates will get out of control after you make so many immortal wines? Betrayal is not uncommon in my repertoire."
"With your influence, shouldn't betrayal become the main theme?"
Kuromon stared with great interest at the fluffy "+" under the crow's tail feathers, ready to snap his fingers when the crow was off guard!
As if it had eyes in the back of its head, the demon hurriedly flew away, shouting, "Caw! There's a pervert!"
"It's just a bird's butt, what's the big deal..."
As various images of birds flitting about flashed through his mind, Heimen saw a visible look of terror on the dark bird's face, and a brilliant conjecture suddenly appeared!
"Could it be that your true demonic form is a bird?"
The crow remained silent for a while, then staggered and disappeared into the shadows.
The gloomy and heavy atmosphere in the room finally dissipated. Kuromon stretched his tense shoulders slightly and glanced at the screen on the monitor: Karasuma Jin, surrounded by the chief steward, had barely managed to stand firm and was struggling to deal with the other five people.
As agreed, the moment he absorbed Ooka, the demon transmitted the recipe for the Elixir of Immortality into his mind.
There are two recipes. One of them has an extremely demanding production process. There is only one specific day each year when the wine can be made. Moreover, the proportion of ingredients changes constantly at each moment depending on the lunar phase, geomagnetism, and latitude and longitude. This method currently only exists in theory.
Another method is incredibly simple—add the blood of an immortal to wine, chant incantations on a simple magic circle, and heat it up to obtain the product.
'However, there has never been any sign of the Elixir of Immortality leaking onto the market. This means that there were no additional costs associated with making the Elixir of Immortality, or that no immortals survived this farce.'
The statement that obtaining the formula requires the life of an immortal being sounds like an encouragement of fratricide, but in reality, it's a contest of the seven people present to gauge their olfactory sensitivity.
—Don't forget, apart from the initial few, with the elixir of immortality plentiful, each of them was given a dose enough to transform 2 or 3 people—to obtain the formula, there was no need to compete with each other, just transform and devour one of their subordinates.
Thanks to his time travel experience, Hei Men realized earlier than the others that taking over the experience of others was an even more powerful way to improve than using cheat codes!
Consuming a transformed peerless martial artist allows one to single-handedly deal with an encirclement; consuming a master of disguise allows one to blend into a crowd—it truly embodies the principle of "you are what you eat."
In other words, this is no longer a place of deceit and scheming for fame and fortune, but a race against time!
"But thanks to Gin, I came up with a good solution."
He poured all the elixir of immortality from the flask into the poison bullets used for assassination, then put his mask back on and sped towards the front courtyard, pushing a food cart laden with martial virtues.
...
Gentlemen and ladies, though not at the very top, yet still at the pinnacle of the social hierarchy, sat in the makeshift front hall, whispering among themselves as they looked at the empty stage under the lights.
Some people were still confused: "What on earth happened? Lord Karasuma is actually auctioning off his own collection!"
Those who have studied antiques are already exclaiming in astonishment:
"Unbelievable! A whopping 300 priceless artifacts! I just looked at the list, and some of them were even thought to be long lost. I never imagined they had already been acquired..."
Some people are complaining:
"Why is cash preferred over checks?! Don't they realize that nobody wants to carry heavy gold or banknotes to pay these days? Luckily, I don't have much money, so I won't regret it for the rest of my life."
Others made seemingly profound but ultimately ambiguous statements:
"This is our ticket to Noah's Ark. Archangel Gabriel will surely sound the third trumpet. We should seize this opportunity while everyone is still asleep..."
Although they each had their own explanations, the greed and desire ignited in their hearts were remarkably synchronized. The clamor of voices briefly concealed the fierce howling storm outside the castle, as well as the sudden gunshots that rang out in a few discussion rooms.
The black door pulled back the pale red curtains, and looking out, the gray sedge, the white withered trees, and the empty window openings were being swallowed up by the gray mist that suddenly rose from the mountains.