Mystery: Gray Walker

Chapter 17 Lillian's Scheme

Just as Green was about to ask Lillian what news she had, he saw the space around the black cat distort and blur, its body suddenly elongated and changed in the moonlight, and its black fur receded like a tide, revealing smooth skin.

In the blink of an eye, the person standing in the room was no longer a black cat, but a young girl with long, black hair that reached her waist.

The girl suddenly turned around, pounced on him, and pinned Green down on the bed. "I specifically told you to leave the window open tonight!"

That familiar complaining tone completely confirmed her identity; Lillian was clearly furious.

"I...I was too, too tired, I forgot..." Green awkwardly tugged at the corner of his mouth, trying to explain.

Up close, he could clearly see the girl's slightly flushed cheeks, though he couldn't tell if it was from the cold or from anger.

"Forgot?"

Lillian's voice suddenly rose, then she realized her surroundings and forced it back down, the words squeezing out through clenched teeth:

"I stood on the windowsill freezing for an hour! My hands are practically raw from scratching! And you just say you forgot and that's it?!"

Just then, clear footsteps came from the corridor outside the door, getting closer and closer, seemingly heading towards Green's room.

Green's expression changed slightly, and he quickly covered Lillian's mouth, which was still grumbling.

"Ugh—!"

Lillian was clearly taken aback; her eyes widened instantly, then narrowed again.

The next second, she opened her mouth and bit down.

"hiss--!"

Green gasped in pain, but he clenched his fist tightly, not daring to let go or make a sound.

He frantically gestured for Lillian to be quiet, pointed to the door, and cold sweat beaded on his forehead.

As Lillian heard the approaching footsteps, she glared at Green, loosening her grip slightly, but still showing no sign of letting go.

The footsteps outside the door stopped at the doorway.

Immediately afterwards, Aunt Sylvia's somewhat muffled voice rang out:

"Green? Are you alright? I think I heard a noise coming from here..."

The air in the room seemed to freeze instantly.

Green's heart was pounding.

He felt Lillian's body stiffen slightly, and the pressure on her lips loosen a bit.

Green took a deep breath and called out towards the door, "N-nothing, Auntie... I had a nightmare and accidentally bumped into the headboard."

As Green spoke, his glasses were fixed on Lillian, warning her not to make a sound.

There was a few seconds of silence outside the door, then Aunt Sylvia seemed to breathe a sigh of relief: "It's good that you're alright, go to sleep early."

"Okay, Auntie, you should go and get some rest too."

The sound of footsteps rang out again, gradually fading into the distance.

Green looked up at Lillian, who was pressing down on him. "Now...can you let go, Miss Lillian?"

Upon hearing this, Lillian finally relented, even spitting out a couple of "pui" sounds with a hint of disdain.

She gracefully got up from Green, casually tidying her slightly messy long hair and her long dress.

It was only then that Green noticed her full appearance.

Under the moonlight, the black velvet dress perfectly outlined her slender figure, with a seductive slit at the hem that reached the side of her thigh.

The exposed collarbone and shoulder line on one side create an effect that is both dangerous and noble.

Lillian noticed Green's gaze and a teasing smile played on her lips: "What? Lost in thought?"

Green slowly sat up from the bed, walked to the table, poured himself a glass of water, and took a big gulp.

He put down his cup and replied calmly, "Don't get me wrong. I was just thinking, you've been standing outside dressed like that for an hour, and you haven't frozen to death. You're either really lucky, or... you have thick skin?"

"You—!" Lillian's smile froze instantly. She suddenly raised her leg, as if to kick Green.

As if he had expected this, Green quickly backed away, lowering his voice as he said, "Hey! Calm down! You didn't ask me to leave the window open just so you could sneak in in the middle of the night and kick me, did you?!"

Lillian withdrew her leg, the movement elegant yet somewhat awkward.

She rolled her eyes at Green, then gently pulled out a chair and sat down, as if nothing had happened.

"I can't be bothered to argue with you."

As she spoke, she reached for her waist, where a small, exquisite dark silk pouch was tied at some point.

Lillian untied the rope, and as her fingers probed inside, one after another, small bottles, boxes, dried plant roots, powder wrapped in oil paper, and other utensils—some crystal clear, some rustic, some emitting a strange glow—were taken out and gently placed on the table.

"What are these?" Green asked, puzzled.

"The Witch Path, also known as the 'Witch Path,' doesn't really matter what the name is; what matters is its function. And these are the ingredients for the Sequence 9 Assassin's recipe."

Green was initially just curious, but as more and more items were taken out, almost covering half of the table, his eyes changed from doubt to astonishment, and finally to disbelief and stunned silence.

He stared at the small, deflated, and weightless bag that Lillian was clutching in her hand, then glanced at the pile of items on the table that clearly far exceeded its size.

This...this is unreasonable!

His gaze darted back and forth between the bag and the table, trying to find something amiss.

Just as Lillian seemed to have taken what she needed, she deftly pulled the drawstring of the bag.

The next second, Green reached out and snatched the dark silk pouch from Lillian's hand.

"Hey! What are you doing!"

Caught off guard, Lillian gasped softly and immediately reached out to grab it, crying, "That's mine! Give it back!"

Green held the bag up to his eyes; it felt light and flimsy, almost weightless.

He ignored Lillian's scratching, squeezed the bag, and found it empty.

He stubbornly tried to pry open the bag to look inside, but the opening was tightly bound by a rope, as if some force was attached to it.

"This..." Green was shocked.

He looked up at Lillian, who was beaming with pride, and handed the bag back. "Sorry, I just think... this is incredible."

"You've never seen the world!"

Lillian snatched the bag back, patted it like a treasure, quickly tied it back around her waist, and didn't forget to give Green a disdainful look.

Looking at the pile of materials on the table, and then down at the few strangely named but far fewer items on the parchment scroll, Green couldn't help but ask:

"Does the Assassin's Potion require so many ingredients?"

Lillian was carefully placing a small bottle containing some kind of glowing moss on its surface, and upon hearing this, she didn't even look up:

"Of course not. These..."

She pointed to the table, "These are all things you can use."

"Is it something I can use?" Green was even more puzzled.

"right."

Lillian finally stopped what she was doing and looked up at him.

"I've given you the recipe, that's correct. But do you know how to refine it? Do you know to what extent each ingredient needs to be processed? Do you know the extraction sequence and the heat? Do you know how to guide the fusion with your mental energy?"

She paused, a smirk playing on her lips. "A slight mistake could completely change the outcome. What if you're lucky enough to survive but end up as a drooling, scruffy dog? Wouldn't we be at a huge loss?"

Green was speechless.

What the other person said... although the analogy is a bit far-fetched, if it were true... that would be awkward.

It seems that making potions is not as simple as just throwing ingredients into a pot and boiling them.

"So," Lillian lowered her head again and began fiddling with several small silver utensils and a glass tube that looked like a thermometer but with strange markings.

"These are basic processing tools and spare materials to prevent you from messing things up in a panic and wasting my... well, our precious resources."

She ignored Green and became focused.

The moonlight and the dim gas lamp light in the room intertwined, illuminating Lillian and her nimble, flying hands.

Grinding, extraction, distillation, condensation... the series of operations were performed with great skill, and Green even suspected that the Garden of Prosperity might be an alchemy association.

Because at this time, Lillian was more like a focused alchemist or a scholar conducting research.

Green watched quietly, without disturbing him.