Perle swiftly focused and took her Overseer position, carefully observing the different sections of the quarry cave.

The area was shrouded in darkness, with only a carbide lamp lying on its side providing a faint bluish-yellow light.

As she looked around, Perle spotted Lumian and Anthony.

They were both located at the quarry cave’s exit, which marked the isolated boundary of this unique mirror world. It wasn’t a viable escape route, leaving them trapped.

Lumian stood facing Perle, wearing the Flog boxing gloves with iron-black spikes. He gripped a brass revolver in his hand.

Anthony took cover behind him, their backs almost touching.

The Hypnotist, however, wasn’t standing. He was down on one knee, using a blank sketchbook propped on his right thigh as a surface to quickly draw something with a short pencil.

Bottle of Fiction!

Lumian and Anthony found themselves inside a Bottle of Fiction, formed from the quarry cave’s exit.

But this was pointless against Perle, who had a complete overview of the current mirror world. She could easily see where Lumian and Anthony were hiding.

As she watched the scene unfold, Overseer Perle felt a strange, unsettling aura, as if it involved a gray domain.

Lumian, as the team’s leader and most powerful member, appeared to be buying the Spectator more time.

Whether he was gambling on her unwillingness to kill him, hoping to capture him alive, so he could be used as a shield, it was evident that the Spectator’s actions were critical. Lumian believed it could either harm her—an Overseer—or help them evade an Overseer!

Without hesitation, Perle fixed her gaze on Lumian and Anthony within the Bottle of Fiction and declared in the Words of Order, “An Overseer sees all secrets!”

The moment she uttered those words, the Bottle of Fiction at the quarry cave’s exit quietly disintegrated.

However, Perle noticed that while Lumian was no longer shielded by the Bottle of Fiction, Anthony still remained inside one. The Overseer’s words had failed to dispel it!

Confirming this detail, Lumian smiled.

The Bottle of Fiction surrounding Anthony was created using him as a base.

His spread legs and the ground created a symbolic doorway.

Lumian’s body arched slightly as he faced Overseer Perle. His smile twisted as he muttered under his breath, “Yes, Anthony is carrying out a crucial task under my guidance.

“But to break the Bottle of Fiction made from a living person like me, you must defeat me first. Anyone trying to harm Anthony will have to go through me!

“I am now Anthony’s shield. I am the wall that protects him!”

Perle’s smile diminished slightly as she regarded Lumian with a grave expression.

“You stand guilty!

“You murdered someone!”

Murder… Lumian’s heart skipped a beat.

He wasn’t surprised by the fact that he had killed someone, but he didn’t expect Overseer Perle to charge him with such a crime.

No matter the form of the ensuing punishment, the ultimate outcome was set in stone.

A murderer met his end!

Doesn’t she want to take me alive? Lumian had voluntarily become Anthony’s shield, believing that Perle wouldn’t risk killing him. This would limit many of her abilities. He hoped to buy time until Anthony finished the sketch on the Beyonder painting album he had gotten from Bard. The album’s purpose was to bring drawings to life or manifest special effects for a period.

Unexpectedly, this plan fell apart from the start.

Of course, Lumian didn’t bet everything on the possibility of the Overseer only wishing to capture him alive. It was impossible for him yo defeat a demigod, but he had some hope at buying time.

A muffled thunderclap resounded in the low ceiling of the quarry cave. Silver-white lightning serpents sprang forth, intertwining into a tree of lightning as wide as a barrel, aimed at Lumian.

Before the thunder echoed and the lightning struck, Lumian had already lifted his hand, pointing the brass revolver at the world’s punishment.

His blue eyes turned iron-black, but he couldn’t perceive any weakness in the terrifying lightning.

His only option was to channel blazing white flames into the revolver and the bullet about to be fired.

Bang!

As the threatening silver-white tree of lightning hurtled down, a bullet glowing with dark green flames shot from the muzzle, colliding with the immense lightning bolt.

Weakening Bullet!

This was the Weakening Bullet he had obtained from Jebus!

Instantly, the barrel-thick lightning bolt shattered the dark-green bullet and the blazing white flames encasing it. A blinding silver-white light engulfed Lumian.

Boom!

A horrifying roar assaulted Anthony’s ears, causing his body to shudder involuntarily, nearly deafening him.

He remembered the night the cultists attacked the army camp. Gunfire, cannon blasts, screams, and shouts came from every direction, overwhelming him with panic and fear. It had left a profound psychological scar that took years to heal.

Now, he felt as if he had been transported back to that moment.

Anthony gathered himself and looked at the blank sketchbook before resuming his sketch. The pencil in his hand rustled as it moved.

He could still vividly recall Lumian’s body language: “Unless I die and someone steps over my corpse, no one can harm you!”

Compared to the helplessness and terror of that night at the military camp, where everyone was in peril, Anthony felt the current situation wasn’t as dire.

At the very least, I have a dependable companion!

At the very least, someone is willing to risk their life to protect me!

Amidst the innumerable silver lightning serpents, Lumian’s body first fractured into mirror shards, then charred and crumbled into dust—the Mirror Substitution Jenna had provided him!

Lumian’s figure reappeared, standing firm in his spot with his legs slightly parted.

Rumble. The thunder in the sky didn’t fade with the previous punishment. A new round of execution was brewing.

Since the Overseer had prosecuted, the punishment would persist until the target was well and truly dead!

Lumian’s scalp prickled, and his black hair stood on end from the lingering electricity in the air.

Seconds later, an even more magnificent and terrifying colossal lightning bolt silently descended.

Already clenching his teeth, Lumian tossed aside his revolver and raised his hands, allowing the Flog boxing gloves with iron-

black thorns to precisely meet the lightning’s tip. Blazing white fireballs materialized above him.

The Flog boxing gloves could withstand an attack imbued with godhood at the cost of shattering or cracking!

Boom!

Amidst the abrupt, devastating explosion, the silver-white tree of death, composed of lightning, stopped at Lumian’s fist and the Flog boxing gloves.

Rumble. Blazing white flames burst forth, driving the tiny lightning serpents back.

The lightning punishment quickly subsided, but the muffled rumble in the air lingered.

With multiple resounding cracks, Lumian’s Flog boxing gloves turned charred and cracked, shattering into countless pieces that rained down.

Seeing a fresh round of lightning about to form, Lumian knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t resist urging Anthony inwardly, Why isn’t it done yet? I can only hold on a little longer!

After a brief, suffocating silence, a silver-white giant lightning serpent abruptly struck from midair, illuminating the entire quarry cave and the smile on Overseer Perle’s face.

Lumian only had time for one thing.

He animated his shadow and switched places with it.

Boom!

Amid the sharp and urgent thunderstorm, the giant lightning serpent consumed the shadow, instantly vaporizing it without a trace.

At last, this round of punishment concluded, and Lumian reappeared in front of Anthony. His legs were slightly apart, and his back was somewhat hunched, but no shadow remained under his feet.

Why isn’t it finished yet? Lumian thought anxiously.

He considered dismantling the Bottle of Fiction and teleporting Anthony around.

However, he could tell that the Overseer’s prosecuted punishment wouldn’t end simply because he changed positions. With the speed of lightning, he couldn’t depend on teleportation to evade it.

It wasn’t a matter of teleportation being too slow, but rather the time he needed to activate the black mark on his right shoulder.

Rumbling thunder resonated in Lumian’s ears, heralding the impending punishment.

Behind Lumian, sweat the size of soybeans formed on Anthony’s forehead as he crouched on one knee, drawing on his right thigh, which served as a table.

The sketch’s first half was successful and completed quickly, but for some reason, the final stroke suddenly became challenging.

The painting album influenced the pencil, causing it to greedily absorb Anthony’s spirituality. However, even this substantial amount of spirituality could only inch the black lines forward slowly.

At the same time, the edges of the blank drawing page gradually curled, igniting with transparent flames, as if struggling to contain what Anthony was about to draw.

Anthony was well aware that this painting album was not meant to display such a thing, but he had complete faith in Lumian’s judgment and persevered.

Rumble!

The muffled thunder intensified, and Anthony, within the Bottle of Fiction, could hear it clearly.

Despite being a Psychiatrist, he found himself unable to control his emotions. Nervousness, impatience, anxiety, and panic surged within him.

He composed himself and continued the final stroke.

Seeing the terrifying silver lightning on the brink of taking shape and Anthony still silent behind him, Lumian felt a wave of despair.

Am I about to die?

Very well, I’d like to see what Termiboros looks like!

Death… Suddenly, a flash of inspiration illuminated Lumian’s mind.

He retrieved an item from his Traveler’s Bag.

It was a golden mask adorned with several dashes of oil paint.

He had obtained this golden mask from Hisoka, and it originated from Death!

Lumian swiftly put on the golden mask, his body rapidly growing cold as his aura gradually dissipated.

The terrifying lightning punishment brewing in midair abruptly came to a standstill.

Lumian gazed up at the silver-white electric serpents that no longer converged, his lips curling beneath the golden mask.

He had become an undead creature!

One of the golden mask’s purposes was to transform the wearer into an undead being while preserving their intelligence!

Since Lumian was now “dead,” the punishment had fulfilled its purpose. It naturally came to an end!

Witnessing this, the Overseer was momentarily taken aback before grasping the situation.

She chuckled, but her composure remained intact.

While the punishments descended, she had not sat idle and had prepared for any unforeseen circumstances.

She used a coin bag to execute an Under the Table transaction.

Her right hand was about to withdraw.

Behind Lumian, Anthony watched as the curled-up edge and invisible flames rapidly spread to the center of the painting page, intensifying his despair.

Even if he managed to complete the final stroke, the drawing paper would be rendered useless—nothing effective would come out of it.

Anthony gritted his teeth, choosing to trust his companion and Lumian.

He recalled Lumian’s instructions: “Draw Monette first before drawing Madam Magician!”

Monette, the Islander swindler Monette… The instant this thought crossed Anthony’s mind, he was astonished to see the painting paper’s edge halt and the invisible flames temporarily freeze.

His pencil movements became smoother.

Mustering his spirituality, he finished drawing a monocle outlined by simple lines on the right eye of the thin-faced Islander with sunken eyes, thick lips, and slightly curly black hair.

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