Chapter 483 - 472: Do I Have to Die?

The anomaly in Hugh Finch’s eyes lasted only a moment. Kent was the only one who truly saw it before they returned to normal.

The cursed Kent suddenly felt a bone-chilling cold run down his spine. He felt completely drained, and his body stumbled back a few steps.

Hugh Finch, in contrast, had a ruddy complexion. A closer look would have revealed a hint of surprise in his eyes, but he concealed it exceptionally well.

He never expected that siphoning another’s luck would come with such a peculiar benefit, for lack of a better word.

The instant the curse succeeded, a portion of Kent’s luck transferred to him. An indescribable wave of pleasure immediately washed over his entire body.

If not for his incredible self-control, he probably would have cried out right then and there.

After the intense pleasure subsided, the expression on Hugh Finch’s face grew rather peculiar.

He was already considering using this ability less in the future. After all, he’d nearly cried out from just a minor curse on Kent. The thought of what a major curse would do was simply unimaginable.

Either he had to improve his tolerance, or he had to find a way to block the sensation.

Moira Lynch returned just a moment later. Seeing the strange look on Hugh Finch’s face, her first thought was that he had been bullied.

"Did they bully you?" As she spoke, Moira Lynch’s gaze fell on Kent, who was standing nearest.

Just then, a white bird flew overhead.

As the bird passed over Kent’s head, its stomach clenched, and a fresh dropping landed squarely on his scalp.

Seeing this, Moira Lynch swallowed her next words. Wearing a look of disgust, she pulled Hugh Finch back two steps.

At that moment, Hugh Finch said, "I’m fine. They didn’t bully me. Let’s go back; I have something I need to tell you."

Hearing this, Moira Lynch didn’t hesitate, immediately opening a Space Teleportation Gate.

A blue Space Teleportation Gate materialized before everyone’s eyes.

The crowd stared in shock. Long after Moira Lynch and Hugh Finch’s figures had vanished, they still hadn’t snapped out of their stupor.

What Moira Lynch didn’t know was that a Space Teleportation Gate wasn’t something just anyone could have.

Leaving aside the exorbitant cost, opening a Teleportation Gate required precise targeting. This meant that every Teleportation demanded an immense amount of spiritual power.

The stronger one’s spiritual power, the more precise the destination.

Unaware of the shockwaves she had just created, Moira Lynch and Hugh Finch were already back on Cloudsea Planet.

Hugh Finch looked at the familiar surroundings in astonishment. "You can use the Teleportation Gate to come straight back here!"

Moira Lynch nodded. "I couldn’t teleport directly to Pyralia before because I didn’t have the exact coordinates. Anyway, what was it you wanted to tell me?"

Her question prompted Hugh Finch to remember what was on his mind.

"After I took the Verasi Potion, my innate talent gained two new abilities: Curse and Blessing."

Hugh Finch then explained everything—about Curse and Blessing, and about what had just happened.

"Moira, is there any way for me to get around this side effect?"

Hearing his question, Moira Lynch looked at him, her face impassive. "I’m not some magic turtle in a Wishing Well. Do you really think I’m omnipotent? And another thing—you need to use this ability of yours as little as possible. Don’t let anyone find out about it. It’s best not to tell Kai York or Shane Rhodes, either."

Hearing her say that, Hugh Finch realized something was wrong. "Why? Are these two abilities that bad?"

"Not bad. Dangerous." Moira Lynch stated bluntly.

"Dangerous? Are you saying that overusing these two abilities will put my life at risk?"

Moira Lynch nodded. "More or less. But it’s not the abilities themselves that are dangerous—it’s that they’re too powerful. If anyone found out you had this kind of power, they wouldn’t even bother trying to win you over. They’d just kill you on the spot and take your body to The Royals for a reward."

Hugh Finch’s eyes widened after hearing Moira Lynch’s explanation. "Is it that serious?"

"It is. According to data found by Patience, Blessing and Curse are abilities only a fortune teller can awaken. They’re incredibly rare and typically appear as a pair. But in all of recorded history, there has only ever been one fortune teller known to possess them."

"His name has been lost to history, but his deeds are eternally infamous."

"What did he do?" Hugh Finch asked.

"To gain more luck, he cursed numerous races, causing mass extinctions across the galaxy. Fortune tellers were ostracized for ages after that. It took many, many years for that prejudice to fade, but the abilities of Blessing and Curse have remained a galactic taboo ever since."

"So you’re saying I’m doomed?" Hugh Finch asked, then added with curiosity, "But if that guy was so powerful, how did they finally get rid of him?"

At this, the corner of Moira Lynch’s mouth twitched, and her expression turned a bit awkward. "Well, didn’t you just mention that siphoning luck produces an uncontrollable feeling of pleasure? So..."

"So?"

A sense of foreboding washed over Hugh Finch.

"That fortune teller siphoned too much luck... and literally pleasured himself to death. After he died, The Federation recovered his body, studied it, and came to that conclusion."

"Because of his heinous crimes, his body was displayed in a museum for all to scorn, until it was destroyed in an accident. And another thing—he was human, too."

Hugh Finch was still reeling from the undignified fate of being "pleasured to death." The story only strengthened his resolve.

For the sake of his life—and, well, his life—it was best to use these two abilities as little as possible.

"By the way, if cursing to siphon luck causes pleasure... what does it feel like to give a blessing?" Hugh Finch suddenly asked, his curiosity piqued.

"According to the records, it makes you want to vomit. The sensation is supposedly like someone sucking what you just ate right back out of your throat."

Hugh Finch’s face immediately took on a nauseated expression, a look of pure physiological revulsion. Still, he couldn’t help but ask, "Are you being serious?"

Moira Lynch shrugged, her expression innocent. "How would I know if it’s true? It’s all from the historical records. Apparently, the guy said it himself, which is why he rarely blessed anyone."

"Then again," she added, "I don’t think that’s necessarily true. You could always try it yourself and find out, right?"