Chapter 353: The Court of Owls!
A Dazzling Debut
Due to her martial arts training, Barbara's bust size had significantly improved. The orange-red, low-cut evening gown hugged her body tightly. Normally, an eighteen-year-old girl wouldn't be able to pull off such a dress, but her high chest compensated for the deficiency, making her slightly slender body appear more curvaceous and vibrant.
Her thick, reddish-orange hair was styled up, further highlighting her delicate features. The girl's facial structure was impeccable, and the only previous flaws—her skin, eyeliner, and lashes—were corrected with the help of the beauticians. Now, she was flawless.
Luke looked her up and down, offering genuine praise,
"It looks like I'm going to be the object of every man's jealousy tonight."
The girl blushed slightly and said nervously, "The dress is too tight. It's uncomfortable."
"No, I think it's perfect."
Luke stepped closer and looked down.
"It really seems like you should keep training. It's much bigger than before."
Barbara was confused. Following Luke's line of sight down, she saw the cleavage between her "snow peaks." Her face immediately flushed red. She quickly took a step back, covering her chest with her hands.
"I'm warning you, don't get any ideas."
Luke secretly lamented the missed opportunity. The girl's outfit made him feel like a groom on his wedding night. It seemed he'd have to drink less wine tonight, or there wouldn't be enough time for other things.
The manager approached with a smile.
"Sir, what do you think of the dress?"
"Excellent. It lives up to the store's reputation."
Saying this, he took out the black card and placed it on the counter.
The manager was ecstatic, as were the other attendants. Several of the better-looking attendants cast suggestive glances at him. Such a young, handsome, and wealthy bachelor—if not a boyfriend, a lover would be nice.
Luke was indifferent to them. After paying the bill, he left with Barbara. To become the star of the party, clothes weren't enough; she also needed jewelry and accessories.
The Secret Meeting
Every city has its own stories, and Gotham City is no exception. As a large metropolis with centuries of history and a deceptively simple populace, Gotham has many bizarre and fantastic legends.
Among these legends, the most mysterious and widely circulated is a nursery rhyme:
"Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time,
Lurking in the shadows of Gotham, behind the wall and vine.
They're in your house, they're in your bed, they're everywhere you go;
Never speak their names aloud, or the Talon comes to know."
Elders who have lived here for generations have all heard the phrase: Gotham's night has a group of dark walkers who rule this dark city. In this city, anyone who defies their will will be eliminated by the Owl's Talon.
Few people know what the Owl and the Talon signify, and even those who do manage to find out will mysteriously meet an untimely end—except for those who genuinely join them. This is the Court of Owls, the terrifying shadow hidden in the dark depths of Gotham City.
As the heir to the Elliot family, one of Gotham's four great families, Thomas Elliot had no interest in the long-circulating horror nursery rhyme. But when an invitation bearing an owl seal and a white falcon mask appeared on his bedside table, completely unnoticed, he felt it necessary to engage with this mysterious organization.
Following the invitation's instructions, Thomas arrived at the Gotham City Public Library. Holding a blue rose, he sat on a bench. Soon after, an old man wearing a hat and sunglasses, whose face was indistinguishable, walked up to him. The old man bowed slightly, making a gesture of invitation.
Thomas nodded and followed the old man. The two entered a black sedan. The back seat was completely sealed, making it impossible to see outside. They could only roughly guess their location through sound and the feeling of bumps. The journey was long, taking a full hour before the car stopped.
The car door opened. Thomas looked out, seeing the tall walls and the dark, damp, subterranean architecture. He couldn't help but curl his lip.
"You're mute, I take it?"
The old man nodded slightly, lit an oil lamp, and led the way.
Thomas took out the white falcon mask and put it on. While sorting through his father's belongings, he had inadvertently discovered a hidden compartment containing a similar mask and a dozen letters detailing the Court of Owls.
At that time, Thomas knew that the Elliot family had maintained contact with the Court of Owls since ancient times. However, he disliked their way of operating and therefore did not inherit the family tradition. He had clearly forgotten, but the Court of Owls had not.
The subterranean space was vast, and every path had multiple exits. The corridors intersected back and forth, forming a complex, web-like terrain. Some areas were even booby-trapped. Without a guide, it would be impossible to find the correct direction.
The two walked and stopped, taking nearly half an hour to arrive at a large door carved with an owl's head. The old man set down the oil lamp, retrieved a key, unlocked the door, and gestured for him to enter.
Thomas glanced at him and walked through the doorway. Dim light illuminated his eyes, revealing a circular hall over seventy meters in diameter.
The hall's decor resembled a senate chamber: stone seats were arranged in tiers from low to high, with a speaker's stand in the center. At the front was a table set with candelabras and three thrones, each pierced with swords. Of the three thrones, two were occupied, and one was empty.
Thomas glanced around and then turned his attention elsewhere. Simultaneously, the mysterious figures in the seats, all wearing white falcon masks, cast curious, surprised, or silent gazes toward him.
Neither side spoke first. Thomas knew the rules. He pulled the invitation from his coat, waved it in the air, and then found an empty chair to sit down. Seeing this, many showed disappointment. They had hoped the newcomer would be a novice whom they could manipulate to extract wealth, but alas.
There were thirty-six members in the hall, including the two on the thrones. All thirty-six members wore masks, and the white masks reflected an eerie glow in the firelight. The letters his father left behind said that participants in the Court of Owls were mostly Gotham's old-money elite. This meant many of them were familiar faces.
That makes things simpler! Thomas sneered. He wanted to see what kind of organization this so-called Court of Owls truly was.
Once all members had arrived, the person sitting on the middle throne walked to the speaker's stand. He pressed his hands down, and the noisy hall instantly fell silent.
"I have invited you all here today for three main reasons."
"First, to welcome our new member." The person raised his hand and pointed to Thomas Elliot. The other members rose to bow in welcome, a gesture Thomas returned symbolically.
"Second, the restoration of glory!"
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