Chapter 40 The Fake Viscount

Audrey exchanged a glance with the Salted Fish Miss. That woman, Forswall, was roughly twenty-three or twenty-four years of age, standing around one meter sixty-five. She wore a beige, ruffled, high-collared long dress, with her light brown, slightly wavy hair draped over her shoulders. Prompted by Gherlaint’s introduction, her light blue eyes turned toward Audrey, carrying a hint of a teasing, playful smile.

Even as Miss Justice, an expert of the Spectator pathway, Audrey failed to notice at that moment that those were merely a pair of very well-disguised dead fish eyes.

Still, Audrey caught many minor details: for instance, the yellowish stains on her fingers proved that she enjoyed rolling her own cigarettes.

She was a smoked fish.

Viscount Gherlaint introduced them to one another. A member of the Tarot Club and a future member of the Tarot Club exchanged polite pleasantries.

Amidst the crowd, the two sides only exchanged a few superficial remarks without delving into much else. Watching Forswall continue on toward the dining table, her target locked firmly onto a small cake slathered with cream, Audrey withdrew her gaze and followed Gherlaint toward the drawing room.

This was precious footage captured by Miss Spectator of an early-stage salted fish hunting for prey. A little salted fish who adored sweets—no wonder she would grow so close to Gehrman later on.

Audrey recalled the various details she had just observed, attempting to accurately grasp the other party's thoughts so as to gain the initiative in their subsequent interactions.

Suddenly, her attention was caught by a certain individual. The man was handsome, dressed in a crisp, well-fitted tailcoat, wearing a bowler hat edged with gold thread, donning a pair of white gloves, and holding a walking stick whose patterns appeared understated from afar but intricate upon closer inspection. His entire being exuded an air of elegance and nobility.

Audrey did not recognize the person, yet she felt an inexplicable, intense familiarity toward him. As she looked at him, a bead of sweat could not help but well up at Audrey's temple.

"That person... that person." The longer she looked, the more a trace of creeping horror began to grip Audrey.

"The hat he is wearing is Baron Patrick Jack's favorite style; Baron Jack is particularly fond of having gold thread embroidered along the brim of his bowler coat. The tailcoat is a cut designed by Mr. Cassius Duke, and it is also the style Mr. Duke loves wearing most of all. Hanging from the back of his waist is a pocket watch, which is Viscount Gavin Gray's habit..." Audrey calmed her emotions. This proved nothing; perhaps he had simply drawn inspiration from those gentlemen.

Audrey continued her observation.

"The shape of his face is truly identical to Mr. Mason Moreno's, though his forehead is slightly broader. His eyes resemble Madam Ruth Burroughs, while the rest of his facial features bear an even greater resemblance to Mr. Hughes Porzingis..."

Perhaps sensing Audrey's gaze, the gentleman turned his head and met Audrey's eyes. He smiled at Audrey with gentlemanly grace, and Audrey returned a standard, aristocratic smile.

Once he turned his head back, Audrey asked Annie, the maid beside her, "Annie, do you know who that gentleman over there in the tailcoat with the pocket watch hanging from his waist is?"

Annie followed Audrey's line of sight and located the person her young miss was referring to. "That is Viscount Fuce, Miss. Svenlil Fuce."

Audrey searched her memory. It seemed there indeed was such a Viscount, and it seemed she might have occasionally heard or seen that name somewhere before. Yet when she tried to recall the specifics, she simply could not.

She could not recall anything she had ever heard about him, nor could she remember where he had ever appeared. It was as if everything about him was only just beginning to be understood from this very moment, yet he had undeniably appeared within Audrey's memories, feeling so terribly familiar.

It was as if he had been pieced together from several different individuals. It was practically as though...

He had been fabricated out of thin air.

Cyrus's spiritual awareness stirred slightly, feeling the fabricated identity he wore begin to waver just a bit. Out of the corner of his eye, he glanced at Audrey. Sure enough, he had been seen through. Yet as long as it had not been exposed to his face, this persona could still be maintained.

Cyrus's mastery of the [Mystery] domain was not yet sufficient to allow him to conjure two genuinely independent living people out of nothing. Since that was the case, he had no choice but to take on this second fabricated persona in person himself.

Watching Audrey, Viscount Gherlaint, and Miss Salted Fish depart one after another, Cyrus continued conversing with others, deepening the weight of his existence in their memories.

Coming to Lord of the Mysteries, one simply had to play alter egos; what fun would it be without wearing a mask?

PS: One chapter short yesterday, three chapters updated today.