After returning home, Hastur took a bath, then lay on his bed and entered the Hall of Stars.
His gaze swept across each shining star. The star belonging to the Supernova Dominator remained quiet, giving no hint of what He had done that night.
The star of the High-Dimensional Overseer, however, had changed noticeably.
The single thread that once hung from the cocoon of light had now become two. Each thread connected to a small glowing point.
One glow revealed a pair of platinum eyes, while the new one showed a handsome young man with black hair, wearing a tuxedo, holding a gold-tipped cane, every bit the image of a gentleman.
The young man held the cane in his right hand, while his left toyed with a blasphemous card.
The Temperance card from the Mother Tree of Desire!
So the Son of Chaos really had given this Temperance card to the High-Dimensional Overseer.
Hastur felt something was off. He gave up the thought of drawing closer to peek at the potion formula recorded on the card.
He was watching the Overseer, and the Overseer knew he was being watched.
If he tried to spy on the Temperance card and got caught, it might expose his true situation.
Best not to meddle for now. Even if one of the Overseer's incarnations was destroyed, He could summon more with His authority.
As long as His true body remained intact, the deaths of countless incarnations meant nothing to Him.
In this, the High-Dimensional Overseer was very different from the Supernova Dominator.
The Dominator intervened in the real world like laying a single massive golden egg, while the Overseer casually laid a whole nest of small eggs.
"Power, when gathered, unites; when divided, disperses."
The Overseer had clearly sacrificed great strength in exchange for spawning more shadow incarnations.
Sitting upright in the Hall of Stars, Hastur watched for a while before smiling faintly.
"Hopefully, Amon runs into one of the Overseer's shadows soon."
This wasn't him setting a rule, just a small blessing.
Maybe it would work, maybe not.
But it was worth a try. Maybe Amon really would stumble upon the Overseer.
Amon loved games, the Overseer loved to observe everything, and Hastur himself loved watching their chaos.
One blessing, triple amusement.
During the day, Hastur went to the factory and mentioned Audrey's planned investment to Manager Harley.
Harley immediately declared it a great thing, something worth loudly praising.
For example, he suggested publishing in the papers:
"A product personally invested and endorsed by the Jewel of Backlund!"
"Miss Audrey Hall, the jewel of Backlund's favorite product!"
"The most fashionable, most popular product of the times, even Miss Audrey uses it and sings its praises!"
Hastur listened silently. He really thought Harley was a talent, he had only casually mentioned it, and Harley already spun it into a mystical-world version of a sensational headline.
On Audrey's ability to boost sales, Hastur had no doubts. At the very least, there weren't many nobles who hadn't heard of Audrey Hall's name.
She was the Jewel of Backlund, recognized even by the King himself!
"No, this can't be trumpeted loudly. We must protect Miss Audrey's privacy." Hastur rejected Harley's tempting suggestion outright.
He wouldn't use Audrey's name as a gimmick to add shine to his own product.
Even if Audrey herself didn't mind, he couldn't. Influence and reputation were intangible, yet ever-present.
Harley found it a pity, but didn't push the idea. He knew well the unspoken rules among nobles, quietly making money was fine, but announcing loudly that you were about to make a fortune was not.
Besides, Miss Audrey hardly lacked money. Such actions could easily draw the Earl Hall's displeasure.
Audrey worked quickly. That very afternoon, dedicated personnel arrived to negotiate investment details with Harley.
By six in the evening, Hastur had eaten dinner early and instructed Butler Neil not to let anyone disturb the second floor unless something urgent happened.
Around seven, Hastur went to an empty room at the corner of the second floor.
It had once been for storing clothes, but since he didn't own many, only a wardrobe stood there, empty.
He locked the door, then walked to the nearly two-meter-tall yellow-brown wardrobe and pulled its double doors open, darkness inside.
He turned off every light in the room, stepped into the wardrobe, and closed the doors behind him.
After a short meditation, his spirit body drifted out from the top of his head.
As a spirit, he was now far freer than his physical form.
He passed through the closed doors, floated through several rooms, and arrived at the study he had agreed upon with Sharon.
He landed on the desk and wrapped himself in the War Emblem, his spirit armored like in heavy plate.
This wasn't activating the emblem's Beyonder powers, so there was no ten-minute limit.
"This place forbids wraiths from turning invisible!"
This rule was aimed specifically at Sharon, preventing her from hiding her presence.
Otherwise, with the Beyonder abilities of her Wraith sequence, she could slip into the study without him ever knowing.
"This place forbids any spiritual vision from spying!"
After layering two rules, Hastur gave himself a blessing of fortune, raising his luck a little.
Then he hid in the shadows of the bookshelf to wait.
When the time came, he'd see if Sharon could find him.
A supernatural game of hide-and-seek.
As eight o'clock neared, Hastur grew more serious.
From his spot, he could clearly see the clock in the study.
Soon, eight struck, the agreed time.
After ten minutes or so, the window creaked with the sound of wind.
The temperature seemed to drop slightly.
Had Sharon arrived? Hastur didn't see her enter from the window.
But he felt her presence in the study.
"Did she just jump from somewhere outside straight into the mirror here?" The mirror faced the sofa, right where he couldn't see.
"Wait. Sharon is always patient. Maybe she's waiting for me to come out." So Hastur chose to keep waiting.
But half an hour passed, and there was still no movement.
"Did Maric fail to explain the rules clearly?" He frowned.
It was Maric who had arranged this hide-and-seek game between him and Sharon.
The agreement was simple: he hid, Sharon sought.
But from how things looked… wasn't it Sharon hiding and him seeking?
Of course! Maric must have played a trick, that's why he had been so eager.
Realizing this, Hastur left the shadows and first drifted to the mirror.
But no Sharon appeared inside.
Bound by his rules, if she had hidden there, he would have seen her for sure.
Unless she had changed the rules, but he hadn't sensed a thing. That was impossible.
He circled the study, but found nothing.
Had Sharon not come tonight?
That was unlike her. She was never careless about time.
He searched again, carefully, but still nothing.
Maybe she wasn't in the study at all?
"Did Maric change the rules from 'just this study' to 'the entire mansion'?"
A bad suspicion crept over him.
He was supposed to be the ghost hiding in the dark, secretly enjoying Sharon's attempts to find him.
But now, he was the poor ghost forced to seek.
At that moment, rhythmic knocks came from the next room.
Hastur immediately phased through the wall to the source.
It was a mirror. On its smooth surface, words appeared: Keep looking.
The handwriting was unmistakably Sharon's.
So Maric really had expanded the playing field to the whole mansion!
Wait… the whole mansion… his body in the wardrobe…
The realization struck him instantly. He rushed back through wall after wall to his wardrobe.
The moment his spirit slipped back into his body, a familiar voice sounded right beside his ear:
"Found you."