chapter 18

Chapter 4 Negative Effects

　　"He said the secret came from his family's records."

　　"After the fall of Solomon's First Empire, Duke Zaratul, who lost the protection of the emperor, turned to the allies of the 'Black Emperor' Solomon in order to continue his family. To be precise, it was another ally - a man known as the 'God of Mysteries' 's hidden existence."

　　"I have never heard of this so-called secret existence. Even at that unspeakable party, I never heard a similar description."

　　"If Florent hadn't promised me the honor of his family and offered real benefits to tempt me to join his personal guard and explore a ruins said to be related to the 'God of Mystery' during the Tudor Empire, I simply would not choose to believe it."

　　"Actually, I don't fully believe it now... Zaratul left a message yesterday, saying that he would come to me soon. Compared with a junior of the Sauron family, why don't I ask Duke Zaratul himself? ?"

　　I...Klein looked at the words Russell left in the diary, and his tense state relaxed a little.

　　Well, Russell at this time should still be in the mid-sequence, and has not yet unearthed more high-sequence knowledge and buried history in the past. He still doesn't know that the "Zarath" he saw is different from what he became back then. The "Zarath" of the angel under "Mystery" is not the same person...

　　This point is recorded in detail in the sacred scripture of "Mystery".

　　But compared to this insignificant episode, what attracted Klein more was Russell's description of the Sauron family as the angel family.

　　There are not many existing angel families, and the well-known ones are all distributed in the southern continent, namely the three behemoths of the Medici family, the Antigonus family, and the Zaratul family. However, Klein has reasonable doubts that the northern continent The royal families of various countries, like the original royal family of Sauron, are most likely hidden angel families. However, under the background of extraordinary concealment in the Northern Continent, they concealed their dominance in the extraordinary field and used secular power instead. Control the country.

　　Klein turned to the third page and found that the content above was connected to the previous one. Although there was no date, he could tell that it was probably recorded a few days later, which was the day Zaratul visited Roselle.

　　"It turns out that Florent's idiot was right. Zaratul personally admitted to me that in addition to the true Creator, their true belief is also the 'Mysterious God' who has almost lost all traces in the contemporary era, and the latter It's actually more important in their family."

　　"Oh my God, I remember that the followers of the True Creator are even more extreme fanatics than the Eternal Sun Church. Can they really tolerate a fence-sitter like the Zaratul family who maintains two beliefs?"

　　"Although Zaratul explained to me that in the Southern Continent and in the Second Empire of Trunsoest, such belief is a normal thing, and no one will find it offensive to the true Creator, but I still can't understand them. My brain circuit, or I can't understand them in the thinking mode of a normal person brought into this world."

　　"Is it possible that after only a thousand years, people in the northern and southern continents are already two completely different species in terms of concepts? The practice that would be sent to the court in the northern continent is actually considered normal in the southern continent."

　　"Of course there is another possibility, that is, my knowledge of this world only stops at the Northern Continent. If I think so, my big voyage plan may have to be put on the agenda as soon as possible..."

　　Is this the opportunity for "Secret" and Russell to get to know each other?

　　Klein rubbed the page in his hand, trying to fill in the missing content with fantasy.

　　Zaratul took the initiative to reveal the existence of the "Secret" and used the cultural differences between the northern and southern continents to impact Russell's cognition. His fundamental purpose was to guide Roselle to actively escape from the gaze of the God of Craftsman and become a "Secret" Communication with Russell creates opportunities.

　　The key question is that "Secret" should have completely lost the ability to interact with reality at the end of the Fourth Age. So how did he get in touch with Russell?

　　Can Russell also enter the gray fog?

　　It's just that he chose a "craftsman" who is not a "divineer", so he can't help "Secret" out of trouble, and only retains the most basic communication rights?

　　Or is the "mystery" lying to me... Klein trembled slightly.

　　He waved away the notes in his hand, and with this action, he looked around the entire hall.

　　No, "Secret" had no reason to lie to me, and I wasn't worthy of Him lying... Klein suppressed the suspicion in his heart.

　　He knocked on the edge of the long bronze table with a mellow voice.

　　"Sorry, it took some time. You can start communicating."

　　After saying that, Klein leaned back on his chair and said no more, secretly controlling the trumpet with a condescending attitude.

　　"The World", which had been maintaining the same posture, suddenly turned its neck, glanced at the other members, and asked in a hoarse voice:

　　"Mr. Fool told me that commissions and materials can be issued during the communication stage, right?"

　　"What materials do you want?"

　　Alger, the "Hanged Man" who was very short of money recently, rarely took the initiative to speak. Justice, who had originally planned to take care of the newcomer, was stunned and lost the chance to speak before he could react.

　　Before the demigods, I had no shortage of materials... Klein did not have the idea of stimulating "The Hanged Man", so he manipulated "The World" and replied:

　　"The blood of the Thousand-Faced Hunter, the hair of the Naga of the Deep Sea, and the crystallized marrow of the Fairy Spring."

　　What Klein proposed were all auxiliary materials for the "Faceless Man" formula, "marine specialties" that were difficult to collect on the mainland, and some additional materials he didn't need mixed in.

　　The blood of the Thousand-faced Hunter... Hearing the familiar term, "Magician" Forsi concentrated on thinking about it carefully for a few seconds.

　　I remember that a batch of materials were transferred from the branch some time ago, which included the mutated pituitary gland of the Thousand-Faced Hunter. Is this part of the serial potion in "Soothsayer"?

　　Thinking that "The World" was a party hosted by Mr. Fool alone, Fors couldn't help but make several guesses.

　　"I know the clues to the Deep Sea Naga and the Fairy Spring. It will take a certain amount of time."

　　Alger frowned slightly when he noticed the scrutinizing gazes of "Justice" and "Magician".

　　He didn't get hung up on the minutiae, he just wanted to grab the deal as quickly as possible.

　　Beside him, Derrick the Sun raised his arm almost at the same time.

　　However, the movements of "The Sun" did not arouse the tension of "The Hanged Man". He knew very well that there were no oceans or normal rivers in the land abandoned by the gods, and there was no competition between them.

　　Sure enough, "The Sun" only gave clues about the Thousand-Faced Hunter and had no extra words to say.

　　The two materials "The World" wanted to purchase were both mid-sequence level and auxiliary materials, with a combined value of about one thousand two hundred pounds... Alger breathed a sigh of satisfaction and his tone became much more relaxed.

　　He jumped over the "sun" beside him and said in the direction of "Justice" and "Magician":

　　"I have here a copy of the characteristics of the 'Hunter' Path Sequence 8 'Provocateur', which can be made into extraordinary items. The cost of hiring craftsmen is only eight hundred pounds."

　　"It allows you to gain keen observation of the environment, enhance your physical fitness and fighting skills, and focus on improving actual combat."

　　In fact, purely from the perspective of demand, the "Sun" in the "Land Abandoned by the Gods" obviously needs such items more, while the "Justice" with a superior living environment and the "Magician" with organized shelter are not interested in obtaining similar abilities. Not urgent.

　　The reason why Alger gave up selling to the "Suns" in the first place was that the "Suns" could not pay gold pounds for the transaction and could not meet his needs.

　　"Mr. 'The Hanged Man', can you tell us more about that characteristic? I mean, if 'Provocateur' is made into an extraordinary item, what kind of negative effects will it have?"

　　It has only been a month since she became an Extraordinary. "Justice" Audrey is no longer a novice who knew nothing about the Extraordinary at the beginning. She was deceived by the mysterious disguise of the occult. She also has her own considerations.

　　Dad said that Qilingos' bounty will be transferred to my account within a week. The extra money will be deposited into Backlund Bank together with my original principal, plus Negan. As a result of the Duke's reward, my monthly pocket money will probably be five hundred to six hundred pounds more than before, which is enough... Audrey let out a small breath, and her thoughts began to move quickly.

　　The "Magician" is not interested in the "Provocateur" in my hand... Alger pondered for a few seconds and replied unhurriedly:

　　"The negative effects of extraordinary items generally depend on the sequence characteristics they correspond to, and may also be related to the strong spiritual imprint left by the original owner of the characteristics."

　　"For example, if I hold an item, its negative effects come from the despair and obsession of the original owner before his death."

　　"However, this method of judgment is not rigorous, because the negative effects of sealed objects produced by 'artisans' are often not as dangerous as those formed naturally, and some unpredictable changes will occur during the production process."

　　Alger explained it very comprehensively, but in the process of actually summarizing it, he deliberately obscured the most important shortcomings.

　　"What the 'Provocateur' has gained on the basis of the Sequence Nine 'Hunter' is more of an improvement on the physical level. Based on my experience, it is inferred that the final item will likely intensify the enemy's emotions during use. However, I guess for the 'audience' it's not too much of an issue."

　　Inflame the enemy's emotions?

　　Audrey has been looking at the "Hanged Man" visually, trying to read the information and make a judgment.

　　At the last party, Mr. "The Fool" said that one of his favored ones got the inheritance of Qilingos, so Mr. "The Hanged Man" was eager to sell the newly acquired characteristics... About that characteristic He explained it very comprehensively, as if he was afraid that I had just entered the extraordinary world, and he also took the initiative to share the knowledge about negative effects... But when it came to the negative effects that the extraordinary items made with the "provocateur" characteristic themselves might have. In effect, he deliberately avoided the specific harm, only saying that the ability of the "audience" can regulate negative effects such as affecting emotions.

　　Thoughts flashed in Audrey's mind, and she was a little confused.

　　An extraordinary item that could make up for her and was cheap, and the unknown negative effects, neither of which she could easily ignore.

　　"If there are 'craftsmen' involved in the production, there will generally not be too dangerous negative effects."

　　The "Magician", who was also sitting on the right side of the long table, suddenly spoke.

　　She made no secret of her envy, her eyes constantly wandering between "Justice" and "The Hanged Man."

　　The "Master of Magic" does not have much improvement in physical strength compared to the "Apprentice". If it were not limited by financial strength, she would definitely take down the items that "The Hanged Man" is trying to sell. Even if there are negative effects, she can still do it within the department. Get help and minimize your risk.

　　Alas, if I only relied on the income from royalties, I wouldn't even be worthy of participating in the party transaction... Forsi sighed softly, his eyes drifting upward, and a dangerous idea sprouted in his heart.

　　The task given to her by His Highness Zaratul was to cooperate with the Lord's actions at the party, and His Highness Ambrosius asked her to be alert to all abnormalities around her... Both tasks required a certain amount of strength, and she There is only Sequence Eight. If you don't hurry up for promotion, you will definitely lose the ability to perform tasks soon.

　　Then I think of ways to improve my sequence, is it also a necessary part of the mission?

　　The church should reimburse me for purchasing potions and formulas, and extraordinary items should also be reimbursed within a reasonable range!

　　Why don't you try asking His Highness Zaratul after the party is over?

　　Forsi's attention returned to the party and found that "The Hanged Man" had finalized the deal with "Justice".

　　In the following time, as "Justice" and "The Sun" reconfirmed the formula of "Mind Reader", the entire transaction process also came to an end. In the words of "The Fool" announcing the end, dark red eyes The stars were cut off, and the four vague figures disappeared.

　　The gray mist became empty again. Klein looked at the "world" opposite and suddenly let out a chuckle.

　　"Sure enough, with the trumpet, many things have become much more convenient. UUReading www.uukkanshu.net"

　　He raised his right hand, and the cuff slid naturally along his forearm, revealing the pendulum wrapped around his wrist, condensed in gray citrine, as if there was an eye staring at him.

　　The pendulum can continue to be used even after leaving the gray fog, but I haven't determined its specific negative effects yet, nor have I given it a suitable name...

　　Klein thoughtfully displayed the paper and pen. Seeing this scene, "The World" sitting at the end took the initiative to stand up and bowed, and then disappeared into the majestic palace. Only Klein was left to continue. Write and draw on paper, and do divination with your eyes closed.

　　The illusory revelation from the dream fell on the paper as the picture shattered. When Klein opened his eyes and looked at the pendulum, there was a little hesitation in his eyes.

　　The results of divination show that the negative effects of the pendulum are completely different from those of 2-065. They are not dangerous, but they cannot be ignored directly.

　　This pendulum is actually active. The eyes I see in the citrine are not hallucinations... Unlike the continuous influence of 2-065, the degree of activation of the pendulum is very low, but it also means The time when the user is controlled by the thread of the spirit body is also uncertain, it may be the next second, or it may never be.

　　It all depends on the luck of the user.

　　He's still a guy who cares about his face... Klein shook his head with a gloomy expression.

　　His luck has never been very good, and "Mystery" especially proves this.

　　"Forget it, let's call it 'Yellow and Black Eyes', citrine, black eyes...heh, I hope the 'Yellow and Black King of Good Luck' can bless my luck..."

　　Klein threw the pendulum into the sacrificial door, smiled helplessly, and disappeared.

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Chapter 5 A very coincidental commission

　　Arriving in an unfamiliar place for the first time is always a headache.

　　Looking at the brick wall jungle ahead filled with harmful air, Klein realized this sentence deeply.

　　I need a guide... Klein thought helplessly as he looked at the artificially destroyed road signs at the intersection in front of him.

　　The intelligence system of the Trunsoest Empire must have many informants in the East District. As long as the identity of the beloved is thrown out, it is easy to find the right person to help him... But the problem is, his poor The psychological mysophobia still wants to make a small struggle.

　　Klein dismissed the idea.

　　After the Tarot meeting yesterday, he thought about it and ran back to the second-hand clothing store where he bought clothes in the morning. He finalized the deal with the shop owner for six pounds. In a week, he would get two sets of Intis-style clothing. fancy formal wear.

　　Maybe it was because he spent so much time exploring the positive and negative effects of the "Yellow-Black Eye" yesterday that he forgot to ask the old gentleman for a map.

　　If Holmes lived near Whitechapel, he would definitely face the end of having no customers and eventually starving to death...Klein thought about the joke that only he could understand, and raised the corners of his mouth.

　　Rather than continuing to waste time looking for a path, it is better to leave the choice to fate.

　　He secretly took off the pendulum wrapped around his wrist, and the citrine turned without wind, pointing in one direction.

　　Klein felt the pull from his wrist and strode forward while keeping his right hand in the air.

　　He walked past the low bungalows built with red bricks and stones on the edge of the East District, and passed by a group of children squatting on the street corner waiting for the "fat sheep" to come to their door. When he reached another corner, the noise mixed with the shouts of drunkards attracted his attention. His gaze.

　　Looking to the left, an open door caught his eye.

　　Big Mouth Fish Bar?

　　Even at the height of Sherlock Moriarty 183, the bounty hunters huddled together in a chaotic crowd still did not leave a single gap for Klein. Even if he glanced left and right, he could not look past the crowd.

　　Klein thought for a while and walked to the side with fewer people. There seemed to be water waves flowing on his left hand.

　　He stood on his tiptoes slightly, trying to raise his vision a little higher.

　　But at this moment, the people in the middle didn't know what they said, and a large group of bounty hunters dispersed as if they smelled the plague, leaving only one or two who were pointed at by the drunkards around and said, "You don't want to die." ", still stubbornly stuck in place.

　　"I said, fifteen pounds, as long as you can go to Cullen's Bar, the money will be yours!"

　　The middle-aged man, who was dressed in a formal suit without a hat, was incompatible with the environment and waved his hands, trying to pull back the bounty hunter who ran away.

　　"Come on, fifteen pounds back. I heard the pension in a serious factory is twenty pounds back!"

　　"Twenty pounds, that's not enough for the mother-in-law to raise the child until he grows up. The plateau people won't leave you a way to survive!"

　　"Then I'll snatch twenty pounds from my house and give it back to you, mother-in-law..."

　　His whole body smelled of alcohol, his plump porcelain face turned into a red wine nose, and he pushed another drunkard who was already lying on the table. He accidentally pushed his companion to the ground, causing the people nearby to laugh and agree.

　　"You, you..." The middle-aged man, who was isolated in the middle of the aisle like a clown, blushed to his ears and could only repeat his words feebly, "This is fifteen pounds, fifteen pounds."

　　Fifteen pounds is almost as much as his annual salary... The middle-aged man can already imagine what will happen tonight.

　　If there is no one who can accept the entrustment, the Baron will not blame him. Mr. Baron has always been reasonable, but French will definitely use this excuse to deduct his salary.

　　Damn it, damn it, why can that guy fill Mr. Riback's vacancy? He and I are both the baron's servants, and we have both worked for six years!

　　"...Sir, did you just say fifteen pounds?"

　　A slightly hoarse voice brought the man back from his thoughts.

　　He looked up and saw a tall man with sharp edges, a square jaw, and gray eyes that showed alertness and decisiveness that were different from ordinary people. He was looking at him with a gentle smile.

　　Even French couldn't find anything wrong with this man... The man cheered up, glanced up and down in a pretentious manner, and showed again the indifference unique to butlers that he had just shown in front of the bounty hunter. With alienation, he nodded gently.

　　"Yes, the salary of fifteen pounds only requires you to visit Cullen's Bar."

　　"But I heard that Cullen Bar is the territory of the plateau people." Klein deliberately looked embarrassed and took a step back in coordination.

　　"I'm not asking you to look for trouble, I'm just going to look around," the man in formal attire explained anxiously, and no longer continued to imitate the butlers' attitude towards people, "Anyway, it's not a dangerous thing, it's just a walk around, you know. ?"

　　"You can get fifteen pounds just for a spin, why don't you go to the workers in the factory?"

　　"Those who don't have enough food to fill their stomachs are happy to take any risk as long as the price is right."

　　Klein kept smiling, looking at the speechless man, and the corners of his mouth curved upward a little harder.

　　"They, I mean...not..."

　　The man wanted to say the next words, but he had not lost his mind yet. He glanced at all the people around him who were staring at him openly.

　　Even if he has never experienced life in the East District, he can still imagine that as long as he tells the Baron's true purpose, he may not even have time to leave the East District, and he will be filled in a cement pier at an unknown pier.

　　"Okay, I probably understand what you mean."

　　Klein took the initiative to speak and stepped aside to make way for the man. The light from outside the door immediately filtered in.

　　"I think we can go find a place outside and sit down and talk about this, what do you think?"

　　...

　　The dust at the door was once again raised, swirling slowly and flying in the air under the sunlight.

　　Jiugong's nose, which was crawling on the table, snorted loudly. He hit his side with his elbows sleepily and buried his head in his arms, humming.

　　"That idiot just left like that?"

　　"If we leave, what else can we do?" The person next to him didn't know Jiugongbi, "If the idiot really dares to continue shouting here, I will admire him!"

　　"That way I can sell what he said to the plateau people in exchange for two glasses of wine."

　　"It's a pity that he didn't dare!"

　　Listening to these words, Jiucaobi hummed a few words like he was dreaming.

　　"So, he left alone?"

　　"That's not it?"

　　...

　　The tables and chairs in the cafe were quite greasy, there were not many customers, and there was no fireplace. The middle-aged man in formal clothes looked at the seats with disdain, and finally chose the latter between sacrificing his trousers and handkerchief.

　　He only ordered a cup of coffee, unlike Klein who had not had time to have breakfast. In front of him were a large cup of tea, a plate of lamb stewed with young peas, two loaves of bread, and a portion of margarine.

　　Under Klein's persuasion, Mr. "Butler" paid for this sumptuous breakfast, which cost fifteen pence in total.

　　"You should be able to tell me now what exactly you want people to do at Cullen's Bar, right?"

　　Klein swallowed a mouthful of tasteless lamb, raised his eyes, and spoke in a relaxed tone.

　　The middle-aged man straightened his back immediately and looked around for a while in the cafe where there were not many people. After confirming that the conversation would not be overheard, he said:

　　"Are you a private detective or a bounty hunter?"

　　The temperament and clothing of the person opposite made it impossible for him to accurately determine his identity.

　　"It's both. To be precise, I prefer to solve puzzles one by one. I like the process. The specific name is not important."

　　Klein smiled and took a big sip of tea, feeling that he was getting into the mood a little bit.

　　If I were to follow the character of Sherlock Moriarty, should I take out my pipe and take a long puff?

　　"I don't care whether you enjoy the process or not," the middle-aged man paused for a second, "First tell me your name and address."

　　"Sherlock Moriarty, Backlund Bridge District, Punk Apartment 312." Klein shrugged indifferently.

　　"That's right. Since you like solving puzzles so much, you must have heard that the barbaric plateau people robbed the Downton Company's freighter a few days ago. To be precise, they robbed my employer's property," the middle-aged man frowned. Wrinkled and said, "The stolen goods are related to a big shot. Although my employer can handle this matter, someone must bear the wrath of the big shot. My employer is a kind man. Even if he is a damn plateau man, he is not willing to He saw unnecessary deaths, so he wanted to handle the matter quietly."

　　"He needs me to contact the plateau people?" Klein's left eyebrow raised slightly.

　　"Just contacting the people on the plateau, do you need it?" The middle-aged man saw that the "action man" in front of him was very knowledgeable, and his face became much better. "We have already tried, and the people on the plateau don't appreciate it, so we hope to make them recognize the reality. , take the initiative to send the goods back."

　　He looked around again with his eyes vigilantly before continuing.

　　"I hope you can find evidence that plateau people are secretly selling controlled guns. We will provide you with a camera that is easy to carry and the necessary tools. As long as you can find evidence, we will finally help you leave Backlund and start over in another city. Life is not impossible."

　　In order to make the conditions look better, the middle-aged man made up for it with a blank promise.

　　When the plateau people's gun business was shut down, they would definitely find someone to vent to. When the baron got the goods back, he got a reward, and buying a ticket to send this guy away would be considered worthy of him.

　　"Honestly, very generous and very forgiving."

　　Chewing the bread in his mouth, Klein's expression became much more solemn. He was silent for nearly half a minute before speaking again.

　　When he heard the word plateau people, he didn't think about the possibility of being related to the Downton Company mentioned by the clothing store owner.

　　But when this incident happened to happen to his face, he casually took off his disguise and filled his eyes with his name proudly, it still reminded him of some bad memories.

　　It was too much of a coincidence, full of traces of arrangement... Klein suddenly had the urge to hold his head in his hands.

　　I have left Tingen and changed my identity. The new identity was chosen by Zaratul himself. Can't even the angels help me escape from 0-08's pen?

　　Pretending to hesitate, he touched his right wrist with his left hand. At the same time, layers of fine, hard scales suddenly appeared on the surface of his empty left hand, as if made of pure gold.

　　The middle-aged man sitting opposite him suddenly fell into a sluggish state, his eyes became distracted and lost focus, and his brain stopped thinking.

　　The illusion of the "magician" silently enveloped the table less than half a meter wide. From the perspective of the few guests around, the guests at this table who were very dressed up in the East District were still whispering their own little secrets.

　　Klein took off the "Yellow-Black Eye", and while his vision was dyed gray, he felt that his inspiration had also improved a lot.

　　There are certain risks involved in accepting a commission.

　　Citrine swayed clockwise, confirming the thoughts in his mind.

　　"Creeping Hunger" and "Yellow-Black Eyes" are powerful sealed objects even at the fifth level of the sequence, and their negative effects are not difficult for him. In addition, he himself has a certain degree of mobility. "Magician"...Can plateau people actually pose a threat to me?

　　Klein changed his mind and said silently in his heart, "Accepting the current commission will bring about good changes in my future."

　　The citrine pendulum rotates again, still clockwise.

　　There are certain dangers, but there will also be good changes. There is a high possibility that there is a mysterious force behind the plateau people. Which cult could it be?

　　He did not divine "he has stepped into the script of 0-08". The power behind this sentence is much higher than his current status. Even if he wants to be sure, it is only possible to climb the gray fog. .

　　At least for now, my spiritual intuition doesn't have any bad premonitions, and the danger is within a certain range... The scales covering Klein's left hand quickly faded away, and as soon as the middle-aged man sitting opposite regained his sight, he spoke asked:

　　"What do you think?"

　　"Okay, I have no problem," Klein smiled again, took out a pen and paper from his pocket, and pushed it to the other party, "But I also need you to leave your name and the location of the meeting. You can decide this as you like."

　　Shall I decide the location?

　　The middle-aged man took the pen and paper and wrote two lines of text.

　　"Tom Foster, back entrance to Holy Winds Cathedral."

　　"Are you a believer in the storm?"

　　Klein took the note and glanced at it, unabashedly showing his surprise.

　　"Your faith is not in the Lord?"

　　Foster clenched his fist with his right hand and beat his chest. There was a hint of arrogance in his words. It seemed that he had finally found an aspect of his faith that could overwhelm Klein.

　　"Of course not," Klein tapped his fingers three times, "Praise for steam."

　　"My Lord, my faith is the God of steam and machinery. I have always believed that only machinery and numbers cannot lie, and the beautiful melody of levers and gears running is the most representative crystallization of human civilization. They are the truth and the world. Interpretation of operating rules. UU Reading www.uukanshu.net"

　　"Praise steam." Klein said with great piety.

　　...

　　Backlund West District, Earl Hall's residence.

　　The white princess dress swept across the carpet embroidered with complicated patterns. The diamond necklace on her chest and the pearls on both sides of her earlobes reflected the bright sunlight. Audrey showed a sweet smile and saluted Earl Hall who was sitting on the balcony.

　　"Good afternoon, Earl Hall, you are finally enjoying your life~"

　　"Oh, my little princess, why do you want to come to me, a middle-aged man who is unloved?"

　　Earl Hall glanced at his slightly protruding belly, and his mustache curled up with his smile.

　　"Don't say that, we have always loved you." Audrey sat opposite her father, puffed her cheeks, and glanced at the bright scenery outside the window, but after a while, she coaxed Earl Hall to change from his previous dullness.

　　"Well, Dad, I have been at home for a while recently. Greenster said there is a salon and he invited several writers I like very much."

　　"He's a very good friend of mine, and while I'm sure he'll understand, wouldn't it be disrespectful to attend with a bodyguard?"

　　"Haha, it turns out that this is why the most beautiful gem in Backlund spent five minutes chatting with me." Earl Hall looked at Audrey with a hint of helplessness in his eyes.

　　"Don't say that."

　　"It is indeed not as dangerous as it was some time ago. I will ask them to give you a private space." Earl Hall said.

　　"Thank you, the wisest Earl Hall!"

　　Earl Hall saw Audrey jumping up happily and saluted again, even squinting his eyes.

　　Who makes this his favorite daughter?

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Chapter 6 Fusac Roulette

Chapter 90 Fusac Roulette

"There was absolutely no need for me to bring a camera with me."

Klein put down the black rectangular object in his hand, which had a strap connected to the uppermost part. He sat on the high-backed chair in the "Fool" position and looked at the ripples echoing in the middle of the long table with his brows stretched.

All Tom Foster needs is evidence that plateau people circulate controlled firearms privately, and he only asks for photos because the images are the most intuitive.

If it were just like this, I could use dream divination to recall what I saw afterwards, combine it with ritual magic, respond to myself, and draw the entire process and all the participants in detail.

Although Foster said that he would provide Klein with a camera that is easy to carry, the portability he mentioned was relative to other cameras on the market. In this world similar to the Victorian era in the 19th century, even the size The smallest camera is larger than a later-generation SLR, and it is incompatible with the mobility of the "Magician" and with the infiltration mission.

"But we still need to confirm first. At least the texture must be similar to the photo."

Klein answered his prayer, and his spirituality immediately enveloped his body and fell downwards.

In reality, he opened his eyes while sitting at the desk, and the hand holding the pen suddenly tightened, and started to move automatically as the picture accurately appeared in his mind.

In less than a minute, a lifelike portrait filled the entire white paper.

Klein looked at the nostalgic photo of Blackthorn Security Company in his pen. The corners of his mouth raised unconsciously. He put the pen aside, pinched the edge of the paper with two fingers, and shook it.

The ink that had not yet dried suddenly lost its moisture, and the soft paper became hard, no different from the hardness of film. Except that it was too clear, it was almost no different from a normal photo.

Basically feasible...

If a normal court procedure is followed, if the photos used as evidence are too clear, they will arouse the judge's suspicion. However, when the reporter is a multi-millionaire and a shareholder of Backlund Bank, it is a different matter.

Klein nodded with satisfaction, rubbing his fingers to create a spiritual flame, and the newly-baked photo turned into dust in an instant.

Compared with Tingen, he had grown a lot. As soon as he accepted the commission, he investigated the basic information of Downton Company, followed Tom Foster for a while, and watched with his own eyes as he returned to the hotel. A mansion in the West End.

There is a high probability that the plateau people have extraordinary power behind them... Klein put away the materials on the table and turned to look out the window.

The setting sun gradually slid towards the edge of the pale yellow solidification, and the orange-red ripples embraced the blazing fireball, as if it was about to burn out.

Grand performances and audience cheers are the constant themes of "The Magician", and the complicated crowd is the best disguise of the "Faceless Man".

Klein put on a slightly outdated deerstalker hat, and his square jaw gradually sank into the shadows.

This will be his first performance in Backlund.

...

rustle.

A mouse with light gray fur shuttled between the table legs that were full of heat and the pungent smell of wine. Its big brown-black eyes glanced over the calves with trousers rolled up, and its head slowly shook.

In the Cullen Bar run by people from the plateau, a group of short, skinny, dark-skinned guests surrounded a ring made of several tables in three circles and three circles outside. They were waving the wooden bucket cups in their hands frantically, foaming. The drink was thrown onto the ring, soaking the "boxer's" trousers.

Different from usual times, today's performance does not use fists to decide life and death.

Two chairs were placed on the ring, each sitting on an unlucky guy. These two gamblers who owed money to the people on the plateau were tall, one thin, one short and one fat. Their eyes shone with a terrifying light, and they were in perfect agreement with each other. Staring at a revolver placed between the two of them, neither one dared to make the first move.

"quick!"

"kill him!"

...

The drunkards who were not too dissatisfied with the excitement encouraged the young man with wet short flaxen hair. When he finally gritted his teeth and picked up the revolver on the ground, they couldn't help but burst into cheers.

Once again, he failed to squeeze into the crowd and found a seat at random, just enough to see the action on the ring. Klein curiously patted a guy next to him who didn't seem to be completely blinded by alcohol and violence, and asked loudly .

"What are you doing?"

"Fusac Roulette!" The guy clapped his hands as excitedly as the people at the front. "Today, these two guys are going to take turns shooting at themselves with the revolvers. Whoever has the brains will not have to do it again." Return the money to the people on the plateau."

Fusac roulette?

Is this also a game created by Russell? Klein had a teasing smile on his face, but his eyes towards the plateau man who was hosting the "Killing Game" were not kind.

He maintained his disguise of curiosity and continued to ask:

"What about the living ones? Don't the living ones need to pay back the money?"

When the drunk man who was applauding and hooting like crazy heard this, he didn't care to continue for a moment, and glanced in surprise at Klein, who was dressed as a bounty hunter next to him.

"What the hell are you thinking?"

"Of course you need to pay. You are still alive and you still want to default on your debt?"

"This seems unfair?" Klein flashed a hint of displeasure.

The drunkard laughed heartily. He seemed to regard this unequal condition as an iron rule of nature, and explained to Klein seriously:

"Hey, I've lived all my life and I've never heard of anyone daring to take advantage of the plateau people!"

"But don't say it yet. It's okay if you don't want to pay back the money. Meursault, the head of the plateau people and the executioner, said that as long as the fool sitting on top can survive and beat two people, he doesn't have to pay back the money. "

"Lucky, lucky, it depends on whether the goddess of luck is willing to favor him!"

There was a burst of booing from the bottom of the ring, and the gun came into the hands of the fat butcher opposite the young man.

The drunkard raised his own dark beer, took a swig, and muttered vaguely:

"Anyway, I haven't seen the goddess of the night favor me. Last year, I was asked to leave ten pennies by the priest, and I haven't seen how lucky I am this year."

The absurd farce continued and did not stop due to the disgust of one audience member.

Fatty Bai has never dared to take action.

Although he owed a lot of money to the plateau people, he still had his own butcher shop, wife and children. As long as he stopped gambling and worked hard for a period of time, he could pay off the debt in less than three months.

The butcher, who usually wielded his knife without blinking an eyebrow, was now like a pig on his chopping board. The fat meat that could not be covered by his linen shirt was trembling like waves. The hand holding the revolver was trembling and he could not pull the trigger.

The dissatisfaction below the ring grew louder and louder. The plateau man who was responsible for monitoring the "duel" felt irritated. He strode forward, touched his belt, and held a revolver with a larger and thicker barrel against the butcher. head.

"I'll send you off, or you should shoot yourself!"

He yelled angrily, and the butcher was so frightened that he couldn't help but feel excited and his fingers slipped.

boom!

The smell of gunpowder smoke blended into the air full of wine, and the red head was as fragile as a watermelon, breaking into pieces, red, white, and yellow, and a piece of sticky liquid splashed on the spectators under the ring. One face.

Some people feel that something foreign has been mixed into their mouths as soon as they take a sip of wine. When they spit it out and take a closer look, they find that it is a piece of bone with hair attached.

The nauseating sound of vomiting came from several corners of the crowd, but it seemed so weak amidst the more lively cheers.

The God of Death had just taken away a worthless life, and the smell of blood blinded dozens of onlookers' eyes.

Klein looked at the beast-like crowd, and even though the "Joker"'s ability had been maximized, he couldn't help but frown.

It was not that he had never thought that human beings could be so evil, but when he saw it with his own eyes, he was still shocked.

"Dead, hey, dead!" The drunk man who had just answered Klein's question suddenly jumped up from his seat, waving a paper ticket pulled out from nowhere in his hand.

"Wayne, I won the bet. I shot twice and the butcher died. You should give me a sole!"

He smiled and grabbed the one-sule note from the bartender's hand, and turned around to show off to the people around him.

But before he could open his yellow teeth, he was surprised to see the bounty hunter sitting next to him stand up and take the initiative to grab the bartender who was about to go back to the bar.

"I don't owe you any money. If you go up and play and win, will you get any money?" Klein smiled strangely.

He originally just wanted to find a way to get close to the plateau people, but now he had another idea.

When the bartender heard this request, a strange smile appeared on his dark and thin face.

"Hey, why not?"

"You go up and come down alive, I'll give you ten pounds."

"Ten pounds!" The drunkard who had just gotten the money couldn't help but exclaimed, and suddenly felt that the sole in his hand no longer tasted good.

Klein seemed to be affected by the chaotic booing around him, and he smiled relaxedly.

"Sounds tempting."

He calmly accepted the glass of dark beer from the bartender, and as quickly as a drunkard could, he nimbly stepped off the table in front of him and jumped onto the ring.

Looking at the tall back of the bounty hunter, the drunkard who was extremely excited just now suddenly became much more awake. Like the people around him, he didn't notice the flash of gold on the bounty hunter's left hand, and his mind became much clearer.

Well, ten pounds was indeed a lot. He had never seen such money in his life, but his life was more important.

"You can't drink if you're dead." The drunkard hummed and sat back.

New players entered the ring, and the game of life and death ushered in a new climax.

The "Duel Notary" who also served as the host opened his arms in an exaggerated manner and spun around in circles.

"There's a new idiot!"

"He doesn't owe us any money, and he has no grudge against us. He is a new person."

"So this lucky man, who seems to have no brains and is very courageous, if he can send our bean sprouts away alive..." The plateau man pushed the young man's head hard and pushed him away. He almost fell off the ring, "He can get ten pounds!"

"Ten pounds!"

The uniform cheers in the audience were like waves, one after another, hitting Klein's eardrums non-stop.

If it weren't for the unresponsiveness of spiritual intuition, I really suspect that there is an 'audience' hiding in the dark and controlling the minds of these people... He also felt an inexplicable irritation, imitating the behavior of plateau people, and patted rudely Thigh said:

"Start quickly."

A reloaded revolver was placed on the ground. Klein grabbed the revolver first and looked at the young man sitting opposite him.

His eyes ran across his flaxen hair that was wet with sweat and stuck to his forehead, across his trembling pupils and his swaying knees, revealing a gentle smile.

Klein played with the revolver. His fingers seemed not to move, but then seemed to move.

"Don't be afraid, young man, and believe in your luck. Maybe none of us will die?"

With that said, Klein aimed at his temple without hesitation and shot himself neatly.

In the noisy bar, everyone held their breath, and the brief silence was in sharp contrast to the normal madness.

However, there were no bullets coming out of the gun, and no brains flying around. Klein still sat in his seat and handed the gun to the young man opposite him with a relaxed expression.

Ignoring the angry scoldings from the gambling dogs and the lamentations from Jie Lian Cheng Pian, Klein smiled and encouraged:

"Believe me, the God of Good Luck will protect you."

"...But my belief is the goddess..."

The young man with flaxen hair put his hands on the mahogany-colored handle of the gun and barely held the revolver.

He mustered up the courage, silently recited the goddess's name, and shot him in the head with his revolver.

Bang...nothing happens.

"Only a 1/4 chance." Klein shrugged easily, took the revolver and fired another shot without hesitation.

He listened to the various voices expressing astonishment in the audience, and glanced at the displeased monitor. He ignored the danger in his eyes and encouraged the young man opposite him unmoved.

"Fortunately, the god of luck is still looking out for you."

The fourth shot, the fifth shot...

Holding the revolver, the young man who was pretty good at math knew clearly that the revolver had reached its end and the bullet hidden in the last magazine would soon kill him.

His pale lips tried to raise a smile, and he tried several times while trembling.

"Sir, I know you have been encouraging me, and I also know that the plateau people will never let me walk out of the ring alive today."

"If you really get the ten pounds later, I advise you to leave Backlund."

"It's not good here, it's really bad."

"I believe that the God of Good Luck will favor you until the end." The smile disappeared from Klein's face and he leaned down very seriously.

However, his piety failed to impress the already desperate young man.

The young man with short flaxen hair smiled sadly, hesitated, and pulled the trigger.

boom!

The genuine gunshots alerted the dozing guards outside the bar, and the long-awaited cheers almost toppled the entire roof. UU Reading www.uukanshu.net soon evolved into the most real anger after being deceived.

"What's going on!"

"Why didn't you die?"

The young man sitting on the chair turned his head in disbelief and looked at the dark muzzle of the gun.

There was still residual warmth there, and there was white smoke coming out. The gunshots just now were real, and his ears were still hurt from the shock.

But no matter how much evidence there is, his head is still intact on his neck, with no wounds at all.

Before he could figure out what was going on, a big hand with sharp joints slapped him roughly and snatched the revolver arrogantly.

The plateau man responsible for "surveillance" carefully checked the revolver and opened the magazine. He found that the bullet that should have been fired was still lying in the revolver, but there was no gunpowder and no propellant.

The firing pin of the revolver is broken!

"I just heard that as long as you make it out alive, you don't have to pay back the money?" Before the plateau people could attack, Klein stood up from his seat calmly.

He was a head taller than the people from the plateau, and cast the skinny gangsters in his shadow. He cast his gaze condescendingly and oppressively, with inexplicable emotions hidden in his gray eyes.

"The kid opposite is still alive, none of us are dead, and there's no winner. I don't need to give my money."

"Let him go."

After thinking about it, this method can better reveal the other side of cannibalism under the poverty and hunger in the East District. Of course, the writing is very childish.