Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

89
Early morning of October 7th.

At dawn, Klein woke up in his one-bedroom apartment in the East District. After handing over the new clues to Miss Justice, there was still no news. He changed into an old and simple work suit, went downstairs, and blended into the crowd like a truly inconspicuous worker.

As he walked, he saw a middle-aged man in his forties or fifties in front of him, with gray hair on his temples, holding a paper bag filled with a few pieces of black bread tightly in his hands. He was wearing a simple thick jacket with patches all over it, and a patchwork scarf around his neck that was equally rough but much more refined. He exhaled a few puffs of white air in the cold wind, stepped on the spot to dispel the cold, and smiled with satisfaction and relief at the black bread in his arms that looked like it didn't taste good.

He tried to take something out of his pocket, but one hand was not convenient, and the cigarette box rolled out of his pocket and fell right at Klein's feet. Seeing this, Klein bent down to pick it up and returned it to the other party.

"Thank you, thank you! This is my old friend, there are not many left in it." The middle-aged man thanked sincerely.

His face was pale, but with a hint of red. He looked better than the other homeless people Klein had seen in the East District, but only slightly. The middle-aged man opened the cigarette box, carefully took out a cigarette and held it in the corner of his mouth without lighting it. He suddenly added, "Sir, your clothes are a little torn. Do you need them mended?"

Klein was stunned for a moment. He checked his jacket and found that the back of the sleeves had been torn and air was leaking in. Ordinary people would probably find it unbearable, but he was a Sequence 8 Beyonder, and his enhanced body only felt a little cold. He wanted to ignore it with a subtle feeling of refusing to hand out posters on the roadside in his previous life, but facing the expectant eyes of the old man, Klein felt a little reluctant - he sighed: "Indeed, I wonder where I can find a tailor?"

"Thank you! You are such a good man."

The middle-aged man's eyes brightened a little, and he hurriedly thanked him. He became obviously excited, and walked side by side with Klein, heading towards a place that was unknown whether it was the end of the fog or deeper into the fog.

They walked about a hundred meters and saw a girl sitting on the street. She had an extremely crude sewing machine, which was in tatters and even tied up with ropes. The girl quickly stepped on the pedal and concentrated on sewing. There were two large bags of old clothes at her feet. Klein subconsciously compared it with his disguise and found that his coat, which had several holes in it, was actually the most "respectable" one.

"Taylor!" The middle-aged man smiled and walked over quickly. "This gentleman's coat needs to be mended."

"Okay, sir, could you please wait a moment?"

The girl called Taylor raised her head from her work and greeted Klein warmly. Although she was a tailor, her clothes were very thin, her face and hands were red from the cold, and she looked about the same age as Melissa. Taylor folded her hands and blew a few breaths, then looked at the middle-aged man and relaxed: "Dad, how much bread did you buy today?"

"Thanks to the Food Act, the price of black bread has also dropped. This time I went to queue up in the early morning and I was able to grab a discounted loaf of bread that was about to be sold out!"

A look of joy appeared on the old face of the middle-aged man, and he patted the paper bag in his hand: "We don't have to worry about going hungry for the next three days."

Klein stood quietly by the side, listening to the conversation between the father and daughter. He looked at the paper bag in the middle-aged man's arms. There were three or four pieces of rough, low-quality bread in it, probably only four or five pounds, but they were going to feed two people for three days... He sighed silently, handed his coat to the girl, shivered in the cold wind, and smiled:

"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself just now. Actually, I'm a reporter reporting on the East District. Can I interview you? It's a bit cold right now, so we can go to the cafe in front."

The middle-aged man was stunned for a moment, then smiled and said, "No problem, it's much warmer inside than on the street."

The tables and chairs in the cafe were quite greasy, and because there were walls and windows inside and there were many customers, the average temperature was indeed much higher than on the street.

Klein motioned for him to sit down and ordered two large cups of tea, a plate of lamb stewed with tender peas, two loaves of bread, two pieces of toast, a portion of cheap butter, and a portion of margarine, totaling 17.5 pence.

The middle-aged man hugged the black bread in his hand awkwardly to hide his Adam's apple that was moving because of the fragrance.

“Eat. You can only interview after you are full.” After all the food was served, Klein brought them back to his table.

"For me?" the middle-aged man asked with expectation and surprise.

“Except for a piece of toast and a cup of tea, everything else is yours.” Klein responded with a smile.

The middle-aged man was stunned. He wiped his eyes and said with a choked voice: "...You, you are such a kind person. But this is too rich. Can I pack up the leftovers and give them to my daughter?"

“Sure.” Klein calmly ate his toast and butter, sighed in his heart, and continued to smile, pretending that he was really a reporter. “Can you tell me about yourself? Your family is also allowed.”

"This is an unlucky thing. I used to be a pretty good worker. I had a wife and two lovely children, a boy and a girl. But a few years ago, an infectious disease took away my son and wife. He was a strong young man, but he fell ill due to overwork and died soon after... I was also hospitalized for a long time, lost my job, lost my wealth, and was left with only my daughter who was lucky enough to be treated in a charity hospital. From then on, I often couldn't find a job, had no money to rent a house, and no money to eat. This made me very weak, and it became even more difficult for me to find a job, and I was unable to raise my children..." said the middle-aged man with some aftertaste and sadness.

He took a sip of tea, sighed, and spoke again:
"But my daughter worked very hard and worked in the poorhouse in the East End. Then she got a place in the charity school and learned simple sewing in the school. Later, she found an old sewing machine and earned a meager salary every day by sewing clothes and pasting paper boxes for people. With this little money, we can barely make ends meet. If it weren't for Taylor, I'm afraid I would have given up long ago."

"I'm telling you, I should have been a good worker, and my daughter wouldn't have to work so hard."

Klein was not a professional reporter, so he didn't know what to ask. Fortunately, the middle-aged man had already eaten his portion and carefully packed up the rest and put it in his arms, hoping to give his daughter some warm food. Klein watched the man leave the cafe on his own initiative and said a few words to Taylor. Then the two of them returned his mended jacket without mentioning any charges.

"By the way." Seeing that this trip was about to yield no results, Klein couldn't help but stop the middle-aged man and asked casually, "Has anything happened in the East District recently? For example, fraud or robbery?"

Before he could finish his words, he saw the other person looking at him in confusion, and then he realized that this was as normal as breathing in the East District.

"Uh, sir, what you said is too common. I don't have any information." The middle-aged man said awkwardly, but Taylor raised his head after hearing it and asked tentatively:

"Sir, I have heard some news recently. I wonder if it is what you need."

"What is it?" Klein asked without hope. "Miss Maria told me."

Taylor spoke naturally without introducing the name, as if assuming that everyone who came to the East District should know this name: "Miss Maria asked us not to go out recently. The human trafficking of women is getting more and more rampant. There are also several very strange murders, which Miss Maria mentioned one day. It seems that there is a perverted murderer in the East District who has killed several bounty hunters. Each of them was tortured beyond recognition."

"Well, I just heard this by chance. If you want to know more, you can go interview Miss Maria!"

Taylor did his best to help the kind reporter: "She's been at the Longshoremen's Association almost all day lately. She should be easy to find."

90
"...By the way, I've always forgotten to ask you, what kind of ending do you plan to give to this story?"

Forsey thought for a moment and said, "I have a plan, but it's a play that will be performed during the New Year this year. It should be a reunion comedy."

"But the premise for a happy ending is that the hero is dead. It's fine for the heroine to find someone new, but overall the viewing experience will be extremely bad." Edward reminded her, "You don't need to be bound by the New Year. Whether it's a tragedy or a comedy, as long as it's beautiful enough, it can get box office. You also hope to get more compensation later, right?"

"Well, I have an idea!" Fors quickly went through the old plans in her mind, "How about having the heroine become a carefree pirate who robs the rich and helps the poor after killing her enemies? Adventure elements are very popular now!"

“Are you going to write the next one?”

"Ah? No, I'm not going to prepare. Isn't this just a drama?"

"Then why did you design this ending?" Edward complained, "It's good to create your own continuous plot, but you need to be careful about giving the audience unrealistic expectations. Miss Wall doesn't seem to have any experience in taking risks, so it's not realistic enough. Otherwise, let her die with unswerving love, and see the phantom of her lover coming to greet her before she dies."

The stay-at-home romance novelist wanted to scratch her head out of habit, but she controlled her unladylike action. Fors pondered for a few seconds, and suddenly an idea came to her: "Oh, right, how about letting her pray to the gods? The sincere love between her and her lover and her piety to God moved the gods, so the angels took her lover's soul back to the earth, and they lived happily ever after... Hey, why does it seem like a happy ending again?"

"...Not bad, at least better than the current version. Then you have to invent a god. It's best to make it up completely. If you allude to a certain god, it might make the believers of other gods feel unhappy."

Edward did not comment. He flipped through a few pages and put all the manuscripts aside. The editor, who knew the nature of his writers, said, "We can tentatively decide that if I remember correctly, the deadline is the end of this month. Of course, I can help you get a few more days to revise, after all, the plot and my soundtrack need more polishing."

"Thank you, Mr. Vaughan. You are so thoughtful." Fors breathed a sigh of relief, a happy smile appeared on her face, and she unconsciously relaxed a little. "New Year's Day is coming soon. Do you have any plans?"

"I remember Miss Wall mentioned that you were planning to go to the relatively warm southern continent or the sea for vacation."

As the conversation entered a relaxed and pleasant phase, the gentleman ordered two cups of coffee and two cakes and enjoyed a simple afternoon tea: "I don't have any plans this year. Haha, when my wife was still alive, she would always take me on short trips to some interesting places every year."

Well, for example, she would investigate the remains of the God of Death in the southern continent, go on archaeological adventures or dig graves, climb the Amanda Mountains, and gaze at the Church of Tranquility, the headquarters of the Church of Evernight, in the distance. Occasionally, she would go to the Feysac Empire to see the Dusk Palace in the capital. She was also curious about the God-forsaken Land...

"That sounds really romantic." Fors cut a small piece of cake and couldn't wait to get to the point. "I'm very interested in the secrets of the Fourth Epoch history you mentioned last time. Can we talk more about it? Well, I'm also curious about a legend I came across in an ancient book. Mr. Vaughn, as knowledgeable as you are, have you ever heard of something like "Deadly Whispers at the Full Moon"? "

She deliberately modified and added some to the noun.

Edward put a sugar cube in the coffee and stirred it slowly. He thought for a moment before speaking, "I did do some research on this... Coincidentally, it was also in an ancient book. It said that the deadly whispers during the full moon first appeared in the Fourth Epoch. It was said that an unknown evil god was delivering the message."

"boom"!
He looked up without any surprise, only to see that the best-selling novelist had her eyes wide open. The sound just now was because she accidentally loosened her hand in surprise, and the metal fork hit the plate heavily.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Fors hurriedly picked up the fork again and suppressed her anxiety to ask, "Excuse me, does that ancient book mention what information the evil god is conveying? Can you sell it to me?"

"Unfortunately, that's all there is to it. The book is lost."

"what……"

"Actually, there's no need to be so sad." Edward smiled, "After all, sometimes ignorance is a good thing."

Because you are useless now. He calmly drank a sip of the coffee that tasted just right. At least you need to get Sequence 5 and become a recorder or traveler to be valuable. At that time, I will use more detailed information to exchange for your soul.

"Anyway, thank you, Mr. Vaughan. Your answer satisfied my curiosity." Fors felt a little disappointed, but after seeing the manuscript fee form and envelope handed over by Edward, she quickly became happy.

"I will definitely hand it over to you quickly this time!"

TBC
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Update! Dear readers, my mission is complete! Ha~hahahahaha!

*Lanevus's current partner is the demon Jason Belia, so the bounty hunters who were tracking him were played around by the demons.

(End of this chapter)