After maintaining that posture for a moment and confirming that her image in Mozo's eyes was beyond saving, Audrey let out a long breath.
Then she simply dropped the act.
After confirming that the door was indeed locked and that the barrier set by her last rune was still functioning properly, she sat down on the sofa, leaving her coat loosely open.
Looking at Mozo seriously, she said,
"It seems there are quite a few misunderstandings between us. But before that, I need to ask you something. Has the mark on my body been removed?"
Mozo turned slightly away again, avoiding looking at her.
"If my memory isn't wrong, then unfortunately, Miss Hepburn, your mark has only been hidden. It hasn't disappeared."
Audrey couldn't help but feel a small sense of relief at his restraint, even though she knew she had been trying to tempt him. At the same time, the earlier frustration of being ignored surfaced again.
The mind of a woman was truly complicated.
She closed her coat and asked,
"Then can you remove this mark? Or at least, do you know what it is?"
Mozo hesitated for a moment, then answered honestly,
"That is a slave mark. It's used by elves as both identification and restraint for captured outsiders."
Slave?!
The moment she heard that word, Audrey felt her head spin.
She quickly asked,
"Then do you have a way to remove it?"
Since he had already started explaining, Mozo saw no need to hide anything.
After thinking for a moment, he said regretfully,
"There are ways, but I don't think any of them are achievable in the short term."
"What are they?"
"I know two. First, you can ask someone of Sequence Four or above to help. They can forcibly remove it."
Hearing that, Audrey immediately said,
"Tell me the second method."
Sequence Four?
That was already a demigod level existence.
How could a wild civilian Beyonder like her possibly get help from someone like that?
Mozo nodded and continued,
"I wasn't finished. Aside from Sequence Four, certain special Sequence Five pathways might also have a chance. For example, a Puppet Master could transfer curses onto their puppets. Your mark might be handled in a similar way."
"No need to continue. I have no way of reaching a Sequence Five."
Audrey said bitterly.
There was no way someone like her had access to such connections. And even if she did, the price would be far beyond what she could afford.
Still, hearing that special pathways might work, she asked tentatively,
"What about a Sequence Seven Puppeteer? They can transfer curses too. Would that work?"
"I'm afraid not. Puppeteers can only transfer curses affecting themselves."
Audrey pressed her forehead in frustration.
"Then please tell me the second method."
Mozo nodded.
"The second one is also difficult, but more feasible. You need to find the one who placed the mark on you. This is an elven spell. The one who placed it can remove it."
Audrey immediately recalled the terrifying steel golem.
Then she shook her head violently.
"Impossible. If I see that thing again, it'll kill me immediately!"
Mozo originally wanted to say that elves usually didn't casually kill their slaves, since slaves were considered property of the Twin Sacred Trees, the Sun King, and the High Lords.
But seeing how certain she was, he held back.
After all, reality might not match his dream memories perfectly.
"And even in those dreams, there were plenty of contradictions," he thought.
"Then could you tell me what exactly happened to you?" he asked instead.
Audrey hesitated.
But instead of answering, she said,
"What kind of payment do I owe you for this information? To be clear, I don't have much money right now, and my mystical resources are nearly exhausted."
As she spoke, she lowered her head slightly and began to open her coat again.
"If you insist on equivalent compensation… then this is all I have left…"
Mozo glanced over and immediately jumped, turning his head away again.
"Miss Hepburn, I'm not a noble, but I consider myself a gentleman. Please stop. I appreciate your commitment to fair exchange, but that's really not necessary."
Audrey let out a huge sigh of relief and quickly closed her coat.
Then she suddenly asked,
"Um… am I ugly?"
"What? No, you're very beautiful. Truly. But that's not the point. I just believe that obtaining a woman's body in this way is disgraceful."
Audrey stared at him for a moment.
Then she stood up and bowed.
"Thank you for your generosity and your manners. But I won't accept this information for free. In that case, I can only pay you in money. So… would two hundred gold pounds be acceptable?"
Two hundred gold pounds?
Mozo froze.
That was the kind of money he had only seen five or six times in his entire life.
And she was offering him two hundred?
"Two hundred gold pounds?!"
Mozo was shocked by the sheer amount.
But Audrey misunderstood completely.
She panicked, thinking he found it too little.
To be fair, she thought so too.
In the world of mysticism, what Mozo had just said was far more valuable than it seemed.
Without him, she would have had to rely on her own methods, likely failing and possibly losing her life in the process.
Two hundred gold pounds was indeed too little.
So she quickly waved her hands.
"That's just what I have on me right now. I will pay you five hundred in total!"
More than doubled?!
"Five hundred… cough. Alright, five hundred it is. No need to rush. Just give me one hundred first. It seems like your finances are a bit tight."
Audrey looked as if she had been granted amnesty.
She stood up and bowed again.
"Thank you once again for your generosity and your kindness."
Then she took out ten gold notes from a hidden pocket in her skirt and handed them to Mozo.
"Here is one hundred gold pounds. I will deliver the remaining four hundred within two months. No, within one and a half months."
Mozo accepted the ten notes, each worth ten.
His face remained expressionless.
But inside
his soul was trembling with joy.
I just said a few sentences… and confirmed something about my dream world… and I earned more than I've made in my entire life?
Sure, in his dreams he had been unimaginably wealthy.
But dreams couldn't compare to reality.
If his real life hadn't been so miserable, he wouldn't have relied on those dreams as his only pillar of support.
To be honest, at first
he had only planned to ask for two hundred copper pence.
And even that had felt like overcharging.