Chapter 190 | The Crimson Moon Returns

“Not bad, not bad.”

The beautiful Master Christian paced around Lynch a few times, only nodding in satisfaction when Lynch's face began to turn pale.

“A few things to keep in mind: the shirt's Tenacity has a limit. It is not absolutely stab-proof and cannot be used to block a blade outright; it merely serves as a final line of defense. Areas not covered by it are also not stab-proof, such as here.”

Lynch rubbed his backside and took a few steps away, his face expressionless.

“The limit for Slow Fall is twenty meters. Going higher is not impossible, but you might break your legs or just plunge to your death.”

“Thank you. That is a truly useful reminder.”

“Also, the top hat's Absorption works quite well, like this.”

As Christian spoke, he took Lynch's cane, swung it, and whacked him right on the head.

Lynch was hit before he could even react. It felt as if he were wearing a helmet; most of the impact was absorbed by the top hat. His head only felt a slight jar, with no pain at all. It was indeed a remarkably good effect. If he had been wearing this back then, he wouldn't have had to worry about Martha and the others knocking him out from behind.

“But do note that Absorption also has a strength limit. If the force is any greater, it is still enough to blow your head open, like this...”

“Stop. If you must demonstrate, please use this person.”

Lynch rolled his eyes and snatched his cane back, carefully moving to the other side of Miss Valente, who was doubled over with laughter. Only then did he admire himself in the mirror with self-indulgence.

Clothes really did make the man. Who was this handsome and dashing young talent in the mirror?

You couldn't find a second young man this handsome in the entire Kingdom of Lande. This charming face, these wise eyes, the reflection of his teeth when he smiled—it was practically a highlight reel...

Wait, calm down, Diana, stop! Put down my two-pound—no, put down the Torch of Light. There's no need to light me up right now.

Lynch snatched the “flashlight” from Miss Valente's hand. After a brief thought, he slipped it into his pocket, finally ending the fitting session.

A ten-pound suit and a suit whose price he didn't even dare to ask about were indeed worlds apart. Even a layman could tell the difference at a glance. The visual effect was superb, making him look like an entirely different person. Although he still needed to test how effective the bestowed properties were, properties attached to clothing were inherently bonus gains, a luxury for the wealthy. Having them was certainly better than not.

Unfortunately, he couldn't wear it out right away. Aside from the final sewing, the details still required fine-tuning, so the master had to measure him again by hand, especially...

With a sharp yelp, Lynch bolted behind the sofa again, his hair practically standing on end.

Amidst Christian's charming laughter, Lynch, his head spinning with dread, spun around and fled. He immediately declared a hundred-meter radius around the shop a forbidden zone. From this day forward, even if he, Lynch, had to run naked through Crown Square, he would never come within half a step of this place again.

Still, Christian truly was a top-tier master; his craftsmanship was indeed superb. With this, the biggest issue for tomorrow's banquet was finally resolved.

“You're still far from ready,” Miss Valente behind him said softly. “The battles among nobles are far more troublesome than those of Soul Severers. How could it be resolved so easily?”

“Huh? There's more?”

“Of course. There are still many flaws on you that people will spot at a single glance. Look at your hair. You can choose any hairstyle you like, and a formal one is fine, but at least the cut should look professional. Your current cut... you did it yourself, didn't you?”

“Uh, Mrs. Maggie helped me cut it while I was recovering my leg. I thought it was pretty good, and it felt quite comfortable when she was cutting it.”

“Also, your belt. The leather on your belt is fraying. A belt is one of the most important accessories, second only to cufflinks.”

“Wait, do you have X-ray vision? How did you see my belt? And what on earth are cufflinks? Buttons on sleeves?”

“I'm not blind, of course I can see it. As for cufflinks... forget it, that's too hard to explain, we'll skip it for now. Then there is the watch chain. The pocket watch itself isn't important as long as you don't pull it out in public, but the chain is exposed to everyone. You cannot use a copper chain, and you certainly cannot use one where a broken clasp is tied together with string.”

“Huh, I thought I hid it pretty well. How did you still notice? Are the eyes of you women always this sharp? I feel like a normal person wouldn't usually notice.”

“Anyone can tell! Hm? ‘You’? ‘Women’? ‘Always’?”

Miss Valente bit her lip, her gaze turning dangerous. Of course, the folding fan in her hand was even more dangerous.

“Wait, no, that was a slip of the tongue,” Lynch said, his face turning pale. “Clothing, let's talk about clothing. We can study the slip of the tongue later.”

“Oh, right. There are also rings. A ring is an extremely important accessory. It not only represents personal wealth, but sometimes also the heritage of one's family. A ring with a deep history is enough to make you stand out exceptionally at a banquet.”

“I have a ring, I just don't usually wear it.” Lynch quickly pulled out The Passion of the Blazing Lady. “Its heritage is definitely deep, and once I put it on, it will certainly make me stand out. It's impossible for anyone to be more dazzling than me.”

“Hmm? What is this?”

“A mystery relic. If you put it on, your body catches fire.”

“I...”

The young lady's leather boots were itching to kick him, showing signs of evolving into Officer Natalie. In the end, though, she was exasperated into laughter. She rolled her eyes at him with aristocratic grace, and then her tone grew excited and full of anticipation:

“In short, all of these must be prepared. We must dress you up properly, otherwise this face of yours would go to waste. Come, let's get your hair taken care of first, and then prepare the other things one by one. We must plan this well; we only have one day left.”

“Look, I'm not doubting your professionalism,” Lynch asked carefully, a cold sweat breaking out. “But why do I feel like you have some personal agenda and other motives? You even accidentally let it slip just now.”

“No, I don't,” Miss Valente said, her gaze drifting to the side as she quickly poked out her tongue. “That is your imagination. Really, let's go, let's go. Time is tight, we can't afford to waste any.”

Talk all you want, but stop poking me with your folding fan! Who knows if the one you brought today is a gun or just a regular fan.

But whatever. Since someone was so eager to spend money to dress him up, it would be a damper to refuse, even if he was reluctant deep down. Lynch felt he was truly a considerate and good person as he was once again hijacked onto the carriage by the young noblewoman.

For an entire day, the two of them rushed between the Crown District and the Valley District—two massive money sinks—polishing Lynch from head to toe. By the time he returned home, Mrs. Maggie and little Martha were startled. The two of them even shrank back a little, especially little Martha, who kept her distance from Lynch, a timid and exceptionally complex look in her small eyes.

It wasn't until Lynch dragged her over and playfully slapped her bottom twice that the little thing let out a yelp and lunged at him, messing up Lynch's hair in exchange for more slaps. This restored the usual laughter to the apartment.

But that was not the end of it. Early the next morning, Lynch was snatched away by Miss Valente again to spend an entire day cramming social etiquette.

Only then did Lynch realize that the plays and shows he had watched in the past were completely useless; otherwise, he would have made a fool of himself over something as simple as where to stand.

He believed his learning ability was quite strong, but after a full day, his head was still spinning. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, time would not stop for him. Soon, the day had passed.