Although the Elves were being quite unscrupulous, Lyle did not expose them.

Peace is a precious commodity.

More importantly, this was Andrey’s first attempt at making contact with an external race. To let the Liches feel goodwill from another group, even if it was false, a world built on lies was what Lyle intended. "The Birth of Music" symbolized the harmonious and fraternal relations between the literary society and the Elf Race, and Lyle could not bear to shatter it. Presumably, the members of the literary society felt the same, given how... diligently?—they observed.

The green glow of the Emerald Tree filled the entire dark space with a bright yet gentle light. It was because of this light that Lyle had only now noticed the subtle movements of the Liches nearby.

Not far away stood a white triangular pyramid, its arms stretching out on two sides, one hand holding a feather pen and the other a parchment scroll, while at the apex of the pyramid, a Shining Gem was twinkling brightly.

At first glance, it was the reporter.

The reporter occasionally looked up and down, making notes and sketches on the parchment scroll.

What was he doing? Taking notes at a music event?

The curious Lyle dispatched Nia. Nia stretched out her body and moved upward, and sure enough, at three meters off the ground, she encountered a horizontal fence—this place was truly a cage. Nia moved across the top of the fence, then lowered an eye tentacle above the reporter’s glittering gem.

With the outstanding vision of the evil creation, Lyle saw what the reporter was writing.

It was an image composed of a large block of geometric structures with certain patterns, and at specific points, the reporter was noting down some data.

Lyle had an intuition that this data must be of some use.

Was it some sort of code? Notes left by the Elf Race, or perhaps some kind of epiphany of knowledge?

After being steeped in Andrey’s culture for a long time, Lyle had developed a keen curiosity. To unravel the truth, he decided to ask directly.

Several black and red tentacles descended, one split at the end to form a mouth with teeth and a tongue taking shape inside; then, the mouth emitted Lyle’s voice.

"Mr. Reporter, Mr. Reporter..."

The white pyramid heard the call and moved from side to side, and when it noticed the twisted tentacle overhead, it only showed brief surprise before emitting the light and sleazy voice characteristic of the reporter.

"Is it the Plague Doctor?"

"It’s me, Mr. Reporter. What are you doing, something important to research?"

The reporter smiled, "You truly are a member of the Salvation Association, Plague Doctor, noticing even this."

"Indeed, I am observing something very important." The reporter feigned mystery, "Plague Doctor, do you know? Those Elves playing instruments and singing are some of the finest in the Elf Race. Their power and beauty have been refined through the years, which is why I have chosen to focus on them."

"They possess precious secrets."

So it was. The reporter was a Pact-Maker, a clandestine Peeker and Guardian. And at that moment, he was peering into the secrets of those exceptional Elves. Although those Female Elves had beautiful appearances, the reporter had glimpsed their secrets.

The literary society might not be reliable usually, but don’t forget, they are part of Andrey, and if needed, they would surely demonstrate their superior qualities.

"I see, Mr. Reporter. But I still don’t understand the figures you’re recording, can you tell me what they are? If it’s private, then no need to respond."

The reporter chuckled, "No, it’s nothing, Plague Doctor. These are some mathematical models given to me by Veraliz for calculation, if you wish, I can teach you as well."

"Is it a complex secret that needs calculation as assistance..."

"Yes, after all my visual estimation isn’t that accurate, right?"

Lyle looked at the three numbers beside each model from top to bottom and his heart skipped a beat.

"I used geometry to calculate the dimensions and even established a coordinate system to analyze the forces based on the positions of the Elves..." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

"After all, my level of visual estimation is limited, haha, but three-dimensional data needs to be precise to be of any use."

Three-dimensional? Lyle looked at the figures and finally found a resemblance to the physical and mathematical knowledge from his memory. Those geometric shapes pieced together, didn’t they precisely correspond to the postures of the Elves? Eight Elves, eight calculation models, twenty-four sets of numbers.

God damn! This reporter was up to this!

He was visually estimating the three measurements of the pretty Female Elves. To avoid mistakes, he even established mathematical and physical models for calculation verification!

I actually believed the literary society would do something proper! Damn literary society!

Lyle felt deeply deceived as he gritted his teeth and spoke fiercely beside the reporter.

"This... Is this your so-called... precious... secret?"

The reporter nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world, even objecting to the disdain in Lyle’s words.

"Don’t you understand! They are the best of the Elf Race, owners of beauty and talent, what is this! They are idols! The lovers of everyone’s dreams! Do you know how much their measurements are worth! You don’t know! Because you’re just a stinky Lich who likes to stay in the laboratory!"

Lyle exploded right then! "Damn it, you’re measuring a Female Elf’s bust, waist, and hips at a concert, invading someone’s privacy, and you think you’re justified!!!" Lyle deliberately shouted loudly, wanting all his Lich colleagues to witness the reporter’s disgrace.

As expected, this caused an uproar among the Liches.

However, most of the Liches here were from the literary society, so their reasons for the uproar were somewhat different.

A Lich stood up, his fingers posed as if playing the piano.

"What?! This concert was for collecting Female Elf measurements?! Was it not a course for observing the activities of normal creatures? I’ve even learned to sit with crossed legs and my orchid finger!"

Another Lich stood up, holding a Parchment Scroll in his hand.

"What?! So this concert isn’t a protest against the expensive tickets for Andrey’s music event?! I’ve already written a cost-performance data report!"

Another Lich stood up, holding a stack of manuscript papers.

"What?! This concert isn’t for collecting material for the Andrey News report?! I’ve almost finished my article ’The Secret I Can’t Tell With Elves!’"

Yet another Lich got up, holding a rope in his hand.

"What?! This music event isn’t an exhibition for collecting specimens for experiments?! I’ve made a full kidnapping plan, and even picked out my targets!"

Another Lich stood up, holding a pitch-black box.

"What?! This concert isn’t for gathering information on the Elf Race’s flesh and blood structure?! I even brought a scanning device! And isn’t the Plague Doctor here too?! I thought we were about to produce Elf-style flesh disguises!"

Another Lich stood up, empty-handed.

"What! Am I the only one who wants to engage in life-and-death relations with the Elf Misses!"

Chaos erupted in Andrey, as the literary society now realized they had completely misunderstood the purpose.

"Who is the organizer? Have him clarify the purpose."

"It’s the Gentleman! The organizer is the Gentleman!"

Consequently, the gaze of the assembly of Liches turned towards Mr. Gentleman.

Mr. Gentleman sat upright, sweating profusely under the scrutiny of everyone. Veraliz had already left his embrace, now standing on his shoulder. Her cat-like eyes glinted coldly, and her fluffy tail wrapped around the Gentleman’s neck, with her paw pads gently resting on his face.

Veraliz asked with a smile.

"Go on, answer them, Avonreiter. Why did you organize this concert and invite so many beautiful Elf girls, what do you want?"

Mr. Gentleman’s voice had a cry in it as the sweat unhelpfully traced down the corners of his eyes.

"I really just wanted to listen to music."

Lyle was in despair.

He had thought the dishonest ones were the Elves.

In the end, hardly anyone in the literary society was there to listen to the Elf music.

The only male audience members truly immersed in the music were Lyle and the seemingly honest Mr. Gentleman.

Lyle touched his forehead.

"Uh, Mr. Flesh Data Collector, please share your data with me. I’ll tailor a suitable flesh disguise for you."