A soft echoing laugh resounded throughout the area as if it was a sound bouncing off the dark walls of a deep endless cave. Moulin stopped. He raised his head and realized that the ceiling had disappeared. What replaced it was infinite pitch-black darkness stretching so high it was impossible to see the end of it. Perhaps, there was no end. It appeared like tendrils trying to lure the young aphrodite beneath. Afterward, a slow enticing sigh sounded—the sound of an amused woman appreciating her creation.
Moulin narrowed his eyes. It was evident that the mistress had kept him trapped within some space. It could be an illusion of a room, but to find out, he must take action. However, under the eyes of the master of the illusion, he is a helpless mouse forced to hide his identity. For a moment, Moulin strangely thought he was alone. Moulin lowered his head, and his eyes stared at the man standing in front of him.
