Chapter 160 Chapter 159 The Peeping Tom
The next day, early morning.
In the Dream Palace.
Early in the morning, Jima sat in front of the vanity mirror, completely naked, combing her wet hair. She had taken a bath in the “Dream Palace,” enjoying a warm bath infused with rose petals.
At such moments, Jima felt a great sense of happiness. Although her combat abilities were lacking, having a palace of her own meant that no extraordinary profession could compare to her enjoyment.
After finishing her hair, Jima casually tossed the comb aside. It arced gracefully through the air and perfectly landed in the drawer she had opened.
Lifting her long leg, a white silk flew in, biting her toe and slithering upward. Various pieces of clothing came flying in, and before long, Jima was dressed in attire suitable for a journey.
She admired the beautiful black-haired girl in the mirror.
She looked left and right, quite satisfied, but felt that her black hair was somewhat empty, as if something was missing.
Jima snapped her fingers, and a black silk ribbon flew in. She gently tied it around her black hair, feeling much better.
Suddenly, the door burst open. A bundle of orange cat fur, riding on a cloud, rushed in. The cloud came to a halt, and the orange cat tumbled down, quickly transforming back into a human shape. Before she could even stand up, she anxiously said:
“Master, Master, that big bad guy George has left the house for something. It’s a rare opportunity.”
“Hurry, you go with the fake me, understand?”
“Yes, Master.”
As Jima ran, she securely tied her belt around her slender waist, and within seconds, she jumped into the eye of the typhoon, arriving in the real world shortly after.
A wave of dizziness lasted for more than ten seconds as she regained her focus on her room. Straightening up, she clapped her hands, and in front of her appeared a lifelike dummy that looked exactly like her, with empty golden eyes staring back at her.
Jima extended her finger and gently touched the dummy’s eyelashes, infusing it with the power of lies. The golden eyes suddenly sparkled, blinking at Jima.
Leanni, transformed into an orange cat, jumped toward the dummy like a ball. The dummy embraced the heavy orange cat and affectionately rubbed its head, saying, “So obedient.”
“Alright, you go out and attract attention. I’ll take a look at George’s room.”
With that, Jima made herself invisible on the spot.
The dummy, holding the cat, opened the door. A cold wind blew in, and the orange cat snuggled against the dummy’s chest.
It is worth mentioning that the room Jima had temporarily allocated was next to Eve Frostleaf’s.
In the courtyard, the dummy Jima coincidentally encountered the noble Eve Frostleaf, who was washing her long silver hair in a large water basin filled with ice water. The ground beneath her boots had become soft and muddy from the splashing water.
The water basin had several missing spouts, and it still had yellow dirt at the bottom, contrasting sharply with Eve Frostleaf’s immaculate, clean silver appearance.
“Good morning, Frostleaf.” The fake Jima approached her with a cheerful smile and asked, “Why aren’t you washing in your room with a washbasin?”
Usually, this courtyard was inhabited only by Eve Frostleaf and her elven maid. Plus, given her long hair and ordinary facial features, Eve Frostleaf had been too lazy to care about her image and consistently used this basin to solve her washing needs.
But today was the last day, and Jima had moved in.
Eve Frostleaf didn’t respond, turning her face away.
“Usually, if you have anything to wash, you can come to my palace anytime. You’re always welcome.” Jima added with a smile, “Sometimes George is there too.”
Eve Frostleaf opened her mouth to retort but then closed it again.
Using her fingers to press down on her soaked silver hair, the moisture instantly froze. Eve Frostleaf vigorously rubbed her hair, causing ice shards to break off and fall, making a sound like shattering glass, carrying her irritation within it.
The fake Jima laughed: “Frostleaf, your method of drying hair is truly unique.”
Eve Frostleaf spat out a few words: “You should call me Eve.”
“Why?”
“Not familiar.”
“Oh, okay, Frostleaf.”
Eve Frostleaf’s frosty face twitched slightly.
The fake Jima waved goodbye: “Goodbye, Frostleaf.”
With that, the shivering orange cat left.
The elven maid witnessed the entire scene, feeling delighted inside.
The more these two women disliked each other, the more it indicated that Jima would do everything possible to prevent Eve Frostleaf and George from being together.
She approached and said: “Lady Frostleaf, succubi are just like this.”
Eve Frostleaf said nothing, extending her snow-white palm to her.
The elven maid handed over the item that Eve Frostleaf had previously ordered her to fetch, a sky-blue hair ribbon.
Eve Frostleaf pointed back at her room, and the elven maid left discreetly.
Eve Frostleaf straightened her back, flicked her silver hair, and gathered her long locks, tying on the sky-blue ribbon. She looked at her reflection in the small mirror at the edge of the water basin and felt that the ribbon was not easy to remove.
She tied a large bow, knowing that with a gentle tug, she could take it off.
Eve Frostleaf picked up the small mirror and took the bow set aside, ensuring that no one could notice her little intention with the sky-blue ribbon.
On the other side, Jima had quietly slipped into George’s courtyard.
The reason she had gone to great lengths to create a dummy to mislead Eve Frostleaf and the elven maid was to make these two extraordinary individuals believe that the dummy was her.
That way, the dummy would be hard to see through.
One of the lessons Jima learned from escaping the battle in the Dream Palace was that George had the ability to discern truth from lies.
In George’s secluded courtyard, the horned child was packing things, and the door was tightly shut.
Jima crouched on the courtyard wall, preparing to leap down and enter George’s room.
But she suddenly froze, a thought flashing through her mind.
Since George could sense illegal activities within a certain range, he would definitely have similar defenses for his own room. In other words, as soon as she entered, George was likely to detect her presence.
But Jima thought, what if George caught her?
At worst, they would end up doing some husband-and-wife things.
Jima lightly jumped and silently glided over the busy horned child’s head, taking out the key to George’s room—she had touched the key before and knew its shape, so she used the power of lies to “build” a fake key.
Inserting it into the lock, she gently turned it, tiptoed inside, and closed the door, all without making a sound.
Jima’s heart raced as she closed the door and took a look around George’s room.
Everything was arranged neatly; the desk was bare, and beside it sat an open leather suitcase filled with neatly stacked books.
It seemed like George had only packed half of the books before rushing out for an urgent matter.
Jima speculated that these must be the books George had read last night. Driven by curiosity, she approached the suitcase.
At that moment, a dull thud echoed from a distance, followed by a faint sound of clashing metal.
Jima’s ears perked up, immediately recognizing the sound of an extraordinary being clad in heavy armor landing.
The second “thud” was closer.
In a flash, Jima dashed in front of the suitcase, grabbing hold of the books inside.
The books were old, their pages yellowed and on the verge of falling apart, but someone had carefully sewn them together.
Were they “Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure” or “Nine Yin Manual”?
Jima’s mouth curved into a smile as she flipped open the book but then froze, her smile vanishing.
She immediately dropped the book and picked up another, flipping it open again, and her smile disappeared once more.
The third, the fourth…
The content was all about a lonely mother missing her son, written in heartfelt words.
Jima immediately recalled similar articles she had found in the basement of the Goddess of the Lake’s temple.
From the writing style, it seemed to be authored by the same person.
“Thud!”
“Thud!!”
A figure crashed through the window, shards of glass scattering everywhere, and George burst out from the haze, wielding a great sword, shouting: “Who?!”
Jima looked up at George, still holding the books in her hands.
George froze, the tip of his sword pointing at Jima.
In that moment, Jima felt that the man in front of her was becoming a stranger.
