After a quick scan, although the surroundings were filled with gentlemen and ladies in formal attire, he did not find the young noblewoman among them.
Lynch realized that Miss Valente was likely in disguise again, her intentions unclear.
This was the third time Lynch had sensed this mystery relic.
The first time was a chance encounter with Miss Diana at the city hall, just after the Square Massacre had concluded.
The second time was after the Hall of Order archives fire, when the bearer had transformed into an old woman, who then went to meet the hillmen hiding in the abandoned factory.
Combining this with its story, 'May my makeup never fade,' Lynch guessed that the mystery relic's effect was disguise. The old woman and Miss Diana were the same person, which perfectly aligned with the intelligence that the Valente family and the hillmen were closely related.
And now, she was again in disguise, hiding at the entrance of the city hall. Her purpose was clearly the same as his own desire to infiltrate: to act covertly.
He wanted to pry into Grant's secrets; what about her? Did she want to start another fire?
Mulling it over, Lynch shielded his face with the newspaper, his gaze sweeping over the faces of the customers within a three-meter radius.
There were many people around; excluding those passing by, seven people were seated.
Four men and three women, scattered around Lynch.
He first ruled out the men. According to the knowledge he'd gained from plays, when disguising oneself, one typically wouldn't choose an image of the opposite gender; most stories about gender-swapping were nonsense. This was because men and women had many instinctively different subtle movements that anyone with a bit of experience could discern. It was too easy to be exposed, so almost no one did it.
Focusing on the remaining three women, they were, coincidentally, young, middle-aged, and elderly.
The young woman was quickly ruled out. The girl was very energetic, skillfully fanning herself with her hand. The eldest daughter of a great noble family would have etiquette ingrained into her instincts; it would be difficult for her to make such a crude gesture so naturally. Hmm... excluded.
The remaining two were ladies, both impeccably dressed and well-behaved, showing no flaws. Lynch was momentarily stumped until his gaze swept across their coffee tables.
Before the elegant and graceful middle-aged lady, a folding fan lay on the table, exquisite and refined, suitable for all ages.
In their previous two meetings, he had seen her holding a folding fan. Although he couldn't recall its exact appearance, this detail was quite certain. Therefore, upon seeing a folding fan again, Lynch focused his attention on the middle-aged lady.
Her noble attire was complex and inscrutable, her exquisite makeup hard to decipher. The lady sat alone at her table, earnestly flipping through a novel. Occasionally, when she grew tired, she would set the novel down, bring her coffee cup to her lips, glance up towards the city hall, and then immerse herself once more in the world of her book.
《The Moriarty Case Files》—it seemed to be the most popular detective novel of the moment. The information he had gleaned from the Cat Baron immediately surfaced in his mind.
Diana de Valente, the eldest daughter of the Valente family, a Sister of Suffering of the Church of Suffering, and a rank two soul manifestation Soul Severer. She excelled at compounding medicine and first aid, appreciated art and played the violin, and loved reading, especially detective novels.
It was becoming increasingly clear.
Lynch asked inwardly, 'Neighbor, she's a Soul Severer, right?'
【Yes.】
Although low-level Soul Severers couldn't trigger special reactions from inspiration, Lady Luna could actually distinguish them, as she had done when first meeting Officer Natalie.
It seemed it was her, Diana de Valente.
Behind the newspaper, Lynch licked his lips. After a moment of thought, he made up his mind and rose, walking towards her.
He had intended to use her as a springboard to learn about the hillmen's movements, and this was the perfect opportunity.
There was nothing to fear. She had an official identity, but so did he. This era already had a city council, and nobles could no longer arbitrarily decide the lives and deaths of commoners. From a supernatural perspective, although she had the elder hillman and the Church of Suffering behind her, he also had the support of a legendary super-expert rumored in high-society circles. Judging by the elder hillman's reaction when they met that morning, she still harbored apprehension.
Therefore, as long as he controlled his methods, Lynch wasn't worried that she would suddenly turn hostile, or, like Mr. Randall in the past, use some mysterious means for a deadly attack from behind.
Then, he would solve the problem using the methods of the civilized world.
“Good afternoon, madam.” Lynch removed his flat cap and bowed with a smile. “Might I have the honor of sitting opposite you?”
The middle-aged lady looked up from her novel, propped her chin in her hand, and appraised Lynch, revealing a gentle, reserved smile. Her voice was soft and low, conveying a sense of peace:
“I'm afraid not, sir.”
“What a pity.” Lynch's lips twitched slightly. He nodded with a half-smile, moved the chair opposite the lady to her side, and then settled into it, perfectly at ease. “Then I'll just have to sit beside you, Miss Valente.”
Her gentle expression remained, but the lady gently set down her detective novel, picked up the folding fan from the table, and covered her mouth with it, speaking softly, “How did you recognize me, Mr. Lynch Levive?”
This woman isn't easy to deal with. Lynch waved to a waiter, casually ordered a coffee, and then said indifferently, “You are challenging the observation and analytical skills a detective relies on to make a living, madam.”
“Oh? Is something amiss?” Playing with her folding fan, Miss Valente's gaze held a hint of increased curiosity.
“Both your attire and demeanor are perfectly aristocratic, yet you have neither ladies-in-waiting, attendants, nor a butler by your side. This is quite irregular. No attendant would dare abandon their mistress unless they were dismissed. While a young noblewoman might not find it strange to shake off her servants, for a mature and steady middle-aged lady, it's fundamentally different, involving many troublesome issues of reputation. If you truly were the madam you portray, you wouldn't disregard your own and your family's reputation—unless this madam's reputation needn't be considered, because she simply doesn't exist. So, to me, you're practically shouting that your identity is questionable.”
Lynch's speaking pace quickened, but Miss Valente seemed to understand. Her movements with the folding fan ceased, her expression slightly surprised. She watched Lynch intently and nodded, “And then?”
Her interest made things easier. Lynch immediately went all out, improvising a complete theory on the spot:
“If it were just attendants, that would be one thing, but having no bodyguards or escorts is truly odd. Not bringing servants could have other explanations, but to be without bodyguards in a square where a massacre just occurred is no longer mere capriciousness but irresponsibility towards oneself. It doesn't fit the cautious nature of nobles—unless she doesn't need ordinary people's protection at all, because she herself is a Soul Severer.”
“There aren't many Soul Severers among the nobility to begin with, and you also carry a peculiar scent, very much like occult materials used for compounding medicine. This led me to recall the characteristics of the faithful of Suffering… The rest of the content will require payment to unlock, Miss Valente.”
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