Isabella

Wayne had probably studied himself half to death. The relentless, non-stop grind of theoretical knowledge and meditation had drained all his energy. If someone asked him to recite the exact cup sizes of the three pretty girls, he definitely wouldn't be able to blurt them out instantly like before. He would have to think about it for a whole quarter of a second! Aside from eating, drinking, sleeping, and using the bathroom, Wayne spent every spare minute grinding. To catch up with those geniuses, he had even cut back on his sleep, keeping only to the bare minimum requirement and diving straight into the grind the moment he opened his eyes. As one could imagine, having pushed himself to such an extent, even his memories of pretty girls had grown hazy, let alone who this Hood was. At first hearing, he had wondered if someone's waifu had come knocking on his door! Come to think of it, the Windsor Royal Navy actually did have an active battleship named HMS Hood. Wayne returned to the mansion. Hood had already hung up, but Wayne dialed the number the butler had noted down and quickly got through. Hood seemed to have been waiting by the phone all along. "Hood, what's the matter?" "Mr. Wayne, Wesley is missing, and I've discovered I'm being followed. To avoid causing you trouble, I didn't come to visit you directly..." Hood's voice was hoarse, unable to conceal the exhaustion in his tone. He forced himself to stay alert as he recounted his investigation into the Church of the Earth's Core, told Wayne the location of the report, and asked Wayne for a favor: to send someone to deliver the report back to Londan. Being tailed, Hood couldn't leave Enrold Town with the report. He wanted to contact the official intelligence agency, but with Wesley missing, he couldn't reach their client. As for the police chief... Forget it. Best not to get more people killed. Wayne was different. Bathed in the aura of the Landau family, in Hood's eyes he was a formidable figure who kept his brilliance hidden beneath a calm surface. The two detectives had assessed Wayne this way: his sharp observation, formidable deductive reasoning, and low-key, composed demeanor proved he was definitely the next heir cultivated by the Landau family. Hood firmly believed that Wayne possessed immense connections in Londan, walked freely in high society, and rubbed shoulders with aristocrats and dignitaries. Entrusting Wayne to deliver the intelligence would surely establish contact with their client at the earliest opportunity. Wayne was completely unaware of Hood's wild imagination; from head to toe, except for his name, there wasn't a single thing about him that connected him to high society. He was very curious about the investigation report and wanted a glimpse into the truth about the Lord of the Void. After a brief pause, he agreed to send the report to Londan. At the same time, he warned Hood to find a hiding spot as soon as possible, wait patiently for specialists from Londan to arrive, and keep a low profile in the meantime. Hood didn't agree, saying he was willing to draw attention away from Wayne, while also needing to locate the missing Wesley before anything terrible happened to him. With that, Hood hung up. When Wayne called back, no one answered. "Commendable courage. Truly carrying the flair of a legendary investigator..." Wayne raised an eyebrow and told the butler to send someone to the hiding spot to retrieve the report—someone sharp, so they wouldn't be followed. Helping was fine so long as it didn't compromise his own interests. The mansion was safe and peaceful, ideal for cultivation, and Wayne had no desire to shatter that tranquility. The butler bowed, stepped back, and dispatched one of the four maidservants to drive over. The mansion held many fond memories, and Mr. Landau valued it greatly. Not only had he arranged for his trusted Fra to serve as butler, but he had also assigned four extraordinarily skilled maids to act as guards. All of them had military backgrounds, each possessing formidable skills. Thirty minutes later, the maid returned with the investigative documents and gave Butler Fra a nod. Confirmed: no tail. Fra opened the report, verified there were no hidden traps or minor mechanisms, and only then presented it before Wayne. So professional! Wayne liked Fra immensely, considering him nothing short of flawless. Taking the documents, he skimmed through them and, with a frown, dialed Xifei's number. Xifei wasn't there. Her office assistant answered and promised to get in touch with Xifei as soon as possible. Wayne could only sigh. After all, this was not the era of mobile phones, and efficient communication could hardly be guaranteed. He sat by the phone waiting and flipped through the report once more. The Church of the Earth's Core was indeed no legitimate sect; they enticed believers to join with ulterior motives. To ensure a steady influx of converts, they had even instituted a promotional strategy of handing out free eggs. Down-to-earth and undeniably effective—who didn't love free eggs! According to the two detectives' investigation, the Church of the Earth's Core was headquartered in Enrold Town, just a single street away from the Town Hall. The cult's upper echelons enjoyed numerous social privileges and very likely held the key officials of the Town Hall under their control. Some time ago, the cult discovered a tunnel leading to an underground world and invited the geology expert Professor Vincent and his team, hoping to leverage the professor's influence for widespread publicity. Little did they expect, the professor had dirty laundry of his own and was poisoned to death by his student. The two detectives had disguised themselves as believers and infiltrated the cult, successfully sneaking up to the entrance of the subterranean tunnel. Security there was tight, preventing them from venturing further, so they had only marked the location in the file. The following day, Wesley suddenly vanished. Hood realized he was being tailed and, relying on his excellent counter-surveillance skills, evaded his pursuers and successfully hid the investigation report. Afterward, Hood contacted Wayne in an attempt to reach Londan's intelligence agency. As for why they only contacted the intelligence agency: first, it was a covert commission, and contacting any other department would only be met with cold indifference; second, even without being stonewalled, Windsor's bureaucratic efficiency was notorious. Hood knew all too well that by the time the intelligence agency received the message, he and Wesley would already be rotting corpses covered in mold. The intelligence didn't disclose too much else, but it prominently highlighted a grand gathering five days later: the Church of the Earth's Core was organizing a mass pilgrimage for its believers at the entrance of the subterranean tunnel. Hood suspected something was deeply amiss about this gathering, and Wayne thought so too. Imagining rivers of blood, he waited anxiously for Xifei's call. Between the pages of the investigation report, he discovered a promotional pamphlet—a printed publication of the Church of the Earth's Core. Its cover featured a model of a hollow Earth, depicting a rudimentary subterranean world. Wayne raised an eyebrow, flipped open the pamphlet, and read through it swiftly. He found no mention of the Lord of the Void, but between the lines, he caught a whiff of an eerie aura. It wasn't magic, but rather hypnotic directives composed of words and illustrations. Reading this publication for an extended period would interfere with a person's rational judgment. "A cult, through and through..." Half an hour later, the telephone rang. Wayne picked it up, and upon hearing his mature teacher's voice, his suspended heart finally settled back into place. Usually, whenever a critical moment arrived, teammates would drop the ball for one reason or another. He certainly didn't want that happening to him. "Teacher, do you know anything about the Church of the Earth's Core and the Lord of the Void?" "What's all this nonsense? Wayne, have you gone behind big sis's back to believe in some other deity?" Over the receiver, Xifei sounded utterly heartbroken, her tone that of an indignant gardener whose prized cabbage had just been rooted up by a pig and had no intention of letting the matter rest. Wayne had no patience for banter and quickly explained the entire story. Xifei immediately grew vigilant, warning him, "Don't act rashly. Their ambitions are enormous—they are definitely not small fry. I will arrange for someone to head over to investigate right away. Your job is just to receive them, and let them handle the rest." Wayne nodded. That was precisely the outcome he wanted. Hanging up, Wayne took another look at the pamphlet and instructed the butler to reinforce the mansion's defenses: if any stranger showed up, expel them immediately by force. Fra nodded, summoned the four maids, and gave his instructions. Consequently, two sniper rifles were promptly set up on the top floor of the mansion. The remaining two maids armed themselves in the armory. Draped in ammo belts and fully kitted out, they hefted two machine guns as though they weighed nothing at all. Wayne: "..." It doesn't need to be that extreme—just watch out for strangers approaching. The heavy firepower granted Wayne a tremendous sense of security, allowing him to settle down and continue cultivating. When night fell, the mansion's telephone rang. A cool, aloof voice informed Wayne that she was outside the estate and told him to have the snipers cool it so they wouldn't shoot one of their own by mistake. Wayne instructed the butler to invite the guest inside. The visitor was a woman, but unlike her cool, refined voice, she had a bloated figure that could only be described as severely obese. The woman possessed fair skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes—a genuinely fine foundation. Alas, fat ruined everything: round from the front and rounder from the side, a perfect sphere from near, far, high, or low. It struck Wayne completely dumb. Granted, judging a book by its cover was wrong, but had his teacher dialed the wrong number? "Isabella." "Wayne." Wayne politely extended his hand, giving the tips of her fingers a gentlemanly shake, and said cordially, "It must have been a tiring journey traveling all the way from Londan, Ms. Isabella. Please, have a seat and rest for a bit." "Just call me by my name. Also, I came from Paris, Frank, on the Priestess's orders." "..." Wayne blinked in surprise upon hearing that. Xifei had specifically transferred someone from Frank—was there some deeper reason behind it? Vaguely, Wayne had a pretty good guess: having only recently arrived, his teacher was undoubtedly being sidelined in Londan. Isabella was aloof and disliked small talk, speaking curtly and to the point. After exchanging a few sentences with her, Wayne realized they had absolutely nothing in common to talk about. Checking the time, he invited her to the dining room for a meal. Having rushed here, she surely hadn't eaten yet. Fortunately, that wasn't an issue—the butler had prepared everything well in advance. At the dinner table, Wayne witnessed the true meaning of gluttony. Even back when he had been afflicted by the curse, he definitely couldn't match Isabella's appetite. From the look of it, she licked the plates cleaner than a hound would. The butler had prepared, but he hadn't prepared enough. Are you truly a mage? Intrigued, Wayne asked, "Pardon me for asking, but have you been cursed?" Isabella picked the grains of rice off her face and popped them into her mouth one by one. "No. This is my magic!"