Chapter 65

Chapter 65

Chapter 65

173
"You are so cold." Adela rubbed her hands together, creating a flame and lighting the stove in front of her a little brighter.

Edward ignored her and passed the time by fiddling with the Rubik's Cube in his hand. With the sound of mechanical gears clicking, he restored the third side, the red one. He did not respond to her words, nor did he stop her actions.

It was indeed cold today, and it was raining heavily outside. Outside the French window, the weather at three o'clock in the afternoon was as gloomy as evening, and the heavy rain curtain was like the sun being driven away by a tyrant. The weather was bad, but it couldn't hold back a Sequence 7 Hunter Path Beyonder, not to mention that the place where he lived was only two blocks away from Soran's house, and even a turtle could crawl back in the rain.

Adela stretched her neck and watched for a while. After she was sure that she had no interest in the new educational toy invented by Mr. Rosel Gustav, and was only interested in the person who played with the toy, she sighed with regret and dragged out a word very long: "You still don't understand the essence of human beings, especially in Intis..."

Edward paused for a moment. He knew that this sentence would attract his attention. Adela also knew that this sentence would attract his attention, so she looked at him expectantly, like the farmer in the fable who waited for the rabbit. But she always waited for the rabbit. The Abyss Angel did not linger on this little frustration, but turned to look at her, waiting for an explanation.

"Look, the hypnotic sound of rain, comfortable weather, and warm stove, perfect for sleeping together." Adela sat backwards on a chair covered with brown velvet. Seeing Edward looking over, she grinned, spread her arms on the top of the chair, and said in an exaggerated tone, "What a wonderful atmosphere! Moreover, we are now alone in the same room, with a fireplace burning brightly, and you are concentrating on playing with the Rubik's Cube. Shouldn't we have some traditional Intis social activities now? I came in through the back door, and you would rather look at the Rubik's Cube than at me!"

"..."

Edward pressed the Rubik's Cube into her hands.

"You can have fun." He said coldly, "I'm leaving now."

"Hey, don't go, don't go. I know. I won't mention it anymore." Adela quickly reached out and grabbed the belt of Edward's shirt. She dragged the person and the chair and slid one meter. She complained loudly in annoyance, "You are too ignorant of romance. Don't demons have all kinds of deep desires?"

"I am fear, not some messed up low-level demon."

Edward walked forward expressionlessly, dragging Adela and her chair behind him. After walking a few steps, he began to feel annoyed: Even if this woman could have a unique position in front of the devil by virtue of her unique role and her own schemes, she should not be allowed to despise the status and honor of angels like this. Where did she get the courage?
She saw the other person's face become more indifferent and felt the change in the atmosphere around her, but Adela was not afraid. Instead, she smiled with some joy and anticipation: "Do you want to kill me?"

"I'm thinking about it." The demon gently placed his hand on her neck. "You should know your own worth."

"You have killed me, your highness, but not there."

Miss Hunter looked very happy. Her face flushed with excitement, which made Edward wonder if the brain structure of this human was a little too different from that of an ordinary person. Adela smiled and reached out to grab Edward's wrist. After confirming that he had no intention of killing her, she removed his hand from her throat and gently placed it on her chest:
"This is it."

174
"Admitsol, you have performed very well in the basic literature class recently and have excellent grades. You will draft a letter later."

"Okay, Miss Maria, what's the content?"

"The content is to request the assistance of the Aurora Society to help us find out the internal situation of the Kapin Mansion. It must be written in my tone and handed to me for inspection after it is completed." In the principal's office, Maria stood by the window overlooking the children playing freely in the open space below. Her expression was gentle, but her eyes were getting more and more fierce. "Now is the honeymoon period of cooperation, and we are also in a period of financial comfort. Mr. Z will most likely not sit idly by, but we can't put all our hopes on them. We should be able to get a reply soon. If I go out alone one day, you have to imitate my handwriting and handle the work on my behalf. Don't let anyone who peek find out the problem."

"...Okay." Admisol, who had already become a "machine", hesitated for a moment, closed his eyes, and opened them again a few seconds later, saying apologetically, "Ms. Maria, I can't see clearly, but I can feel that what you are going to do should go smoothly, and the abducted people can come back."

"Everything?"

"Some of them." Admisol pressed his brows, and some red bloodshot appeared in his light gray eyes. "The others were swallowed by the shadows, or they are already dead. I don't understand the mystical meaning of the shadows."

Maria shook her head: "It doesn't matter. Your prediction is the best blessing for me. I am very satisfied with the result. I should really thank Mrs. Norma for finding you for us."

Talking about the 70-year-old director of the Tingen Almshouse, Admitsol's face also showed gratitude and longing: "When Mrs. Norma pulled me out of the mud and wiped my face and hands clean, I received a baptism more sacred than in the church."

"Then I'll give you a holiday and let you go back to Tingen to see her at the end of the year. Mrs. Norma will definitely be very happy if she sees you now."

Maria smiled, but her expression quickly turned serious again: "Of course, our job now is to Capian and save the children, so you must pay attention."

"Yes, I will definitely not let up."

After saying that, Admisol thought for a moment and asked again: "Choosing to seek help from the Aurora Society, do you intend to give up looking for detectives for help?"

"...Yes, I give up. After all, private detectives are just ordinary people. There is no need to involve them in our affairs." Maria sighed and slid her fingers across the file bag on the table. "Okay, class will start soon. You go back. I want to continue..."

At this moment, there was a quick and violent knock on the door of the principal's office. After getting Maria's permission, a tall blond man walked in. He was a head taller than Maria. He had an indelible dead air, and his eyes flashed with anxiety from time to time. There were also two expressionless thugs standing against the wall outside the door.

"Ms. Maria." The blond man saluted roughly and spoke impatiently, "Ms. Sharon and Mr. Maric have made new moves. They had a battle with the Rose School's pursuers last night and miraculously won. They don't need us anymore."

"The people chasing them brought with them a Sealed Artifact that could restrain them, as well as a full Sequence 5, yet they managed to escape?"

"They didn't run away, they were killed!" the blond man whispered. "Including the wronged souls of Sequence 5, all the pursuers were wiped out by them! Ms. Maria, this is not good. I have come into contact with them twice, and they all showed rejection and disgust towards me. Now they have obtained the seal that restrains the Temperance Faction. If they want to attack us, Backlund only has a few newcomers and me now. We have no power to fight back!"

Maria's face changed. She covered her mouth with her hands and thought seriously for a while before she said, "They couldn't do it. Who did they find to help them?"

"The Church of Steam is investigating, but there is no clue yet." The blond man replied, "However, someone saw them driving a carriage and taking a passerby away a few nights ago. I suspect that was their helper."

"Oh?" Maria asked, "Any clues?"

"According to the description of the person who saw them by chance, the other party is a man with no notable features..." The blond man grabbed the draft paper on the table and quickly drew a useless abstract masterpiece by Picasso. He handed the masterpiece to Maria with a good feeling. "In order to get more information, I hypnotized him a little. Anyway, he looks like this."

Maria took the masterpiece without saying a word: "Yellow hair?"

"Those are gold-rimmed glasses!"

"It should be easy to find someone with such sharp edges."

"I just drew an ordinary black-haired man?" The two of them exchanged glances for a while, doubting each other's eyes and brains. Finally, Maria gave up thinking, put away the portrait that had no reference value, and said to the blond man with an expression of "great, I learned a lot": "Okay, I get it, you go back first, I will continue to pay attention to this matter."

175
After last night's battle and spending some time with the biological toxin bottle, Klein caught a slight cold. On the way to the East District, the cold wind and thick fog with a pungent smell blew in his face, causing him to cough a few more times.

Mike, a reporter traveling with him, asked with concern: "Are you okay? Patients really shouldn't do strenuous exercise. Let's take a rest."

"Ah!"

Klein took out another piece of paper and wiped his mouth and nose, sniffing a little. Since there was no trash can nearby, he folded the paper and put it back in his pocket.

"You're right. There's a cafe here that serves decent food. Of course, this is for residents of the East District." Klein was also somewhat eager for warmth, and pointed to the slightly greasy cafe on the corner of the street.

"It looks like it's one of the better restaurants here." Mike didn't think it was a cafe.

It was past nine o'clock, and there were few customers in the cafe. Residents in the East District usually finished their breakfast at around seven o'clock and started working or looking for work. After accompanying Mike to order beef stew with potatoes, bread, coffee, and other food, Klein looked around and looked for a seat by the window.

At this time, he saw an acquaintance, the middle-aged man he had met by chance when he pretended to be a reporter.

He was the one who brought me here in the first place... Why is he having breakfast only now... Klein thought about it and said to Mike:

"You have an interviewee."

He said as he walked towards the old man with his coffee cup.

He was still wearing the same thick jacket, but with a few patches on it. His graying hair looked greasy, and his beard was quite obvious. The last trim was probably several days ago. He was wearing a patchwork scarf made by his tailor daughter. In front of him was a piece of cheap black bread and a large cup of tea that was almost like boiled water. He looked relaxed and peaceful.

"Good morning, we meet again."

Klein sat opposite and greeted him. The middle-aged man raised his head, took a closer look, and said in surprise:

"Mr. Reporter, is that you?"

…Klein laughed dryly and pointed at Mike next to him: “This is my colleague. He wants to do a more in-depth investigation on my previous interview.”

Mike is an experienced and knowledgeable reporter. Hearing this, he didn't say much. He just smiled, nodded and said hello.

As for the fact that Detective Moriarty pretended to be a reporter, it was not like he just found out about it today. The other party had borrowed a fake press card from him!
"So you are really a reporter!" the middle-aged man blurted out in astonishment, "But that doesn't stop you from being a kind and well-meaning person."

Klein smiled and asked, "How have you been lately?"

The middle-aged man took a sip of tea and smiled: "It's okay. Taylor works hard, and I work hard too. I want to do the shoemaking job I used to do, but they say I'm too old and my hands shake... So I continue to try my luck at the docks. Occasionally, I can earn one or two soli for a day's work. But I don't have such good luck every day. Just like today, I went there early without eating breakfast, stood in the crowd and shouted my name and the steward's name loudly, but I was still not selected, so I came to eat."

"Haha, my Taylor gets up even earlier. There are always children being kidnapped in the East District recently. If I don't go to accompany her, she will go home soon after dark, and now she is waiting for me to bring her lunch." He pointed to another palm-sized piece of black bread, which was the daily food for the thirteen or fourteen-year-old girl.

"Fortunately, there is still a chance in the afternoon. Those people in the morning may be busy until very late and will not compete with us."

Klein listened quietly, occasionally drinking a sip of cheap coffee, while Mike took out a pen and paper and quickly took notes. When they heard the word "kidnapping", they raised their heads at the same time. The two looked at each other, and Klein asked tactfully and tentatively: "What does it mean that children are often kidnapped?"

"…Miss Maria told us not to go out alone at night. We don't know the details, but it's true that many children and girls that we usually see have disappeared." The middle-aged man hesitated for a moment and decided to tell the two kind reporters everything. "There's an 11-year-old pickpocket on the next street. He stole my shirt once, so I know where he usually sleeps. I haven't seen him for two days. And the 18-year-old eldest daughter of Ivy's family in the alley also disappeared before. She's been missing for a long time and was sent back by Miss Maria a few days ago…"

"But we have to go out. It's only dark after six o'clock. If we go back, we won't earn enough money and won't be able to buy bread the next day..."

The middle-aged man didn't say anything more, but the implication was very simple: if you can't afford bread, you won't have the energy to work, and you might end up in a vicious cycle that's even worse. Therefore, even though they knew there were dangerous people wandering around the East District, they still had to go out and separate from their children, otherwise they would soon starve to death in their own place or on the street.

Mike frowned, and the sound of the pen rubbing against the paper was the only sound between the three of them. Soon, he finished recording and said to the middle-aged man with a serious expression: "If you want to find out the whole story, this information is far from enough. Who else can provide information?"

The middle-aged and elderly man did not speak, his expression seemed to be hesitant to speak, and his eyes looked behind them from time to time.

Klein looked back with a sense of understanding, and his heart skipped a beat: he saw that the woman who had seen through his disguise at a glance when he last came to the East District was sitting at the table behind them, with a sandwich on the plate in front of her and a cup of steaming coffee at her fingertips.

“I’m Maria.” The woman with black hair, blue eyes, and a scar on her face looked at them unkindly. Her gaze stayed on Klein’s face for a longer time. She felt that this person’s aura was somewhat familiar.

"Are you reporters? What are you investigating here? If there is nothing important, please go back."

TBC
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Event - Card Ping - Start loading progress.

Suddenly I realized that I wrote the wrong number for the previous chapter! This chapter is only 57! Ah!!!

*And my dear readers, please stop giving me rewards. Please stop giving me rewards. It makes me feel guilty and nervous!!

And is this article originally a happy article? Isn’t this article about “Everyone thinks I am a pig playing pig and eating tiger on Earth, only I know how insulting it is to be beaten by a group of true gods” (?)

(After all, decline is not fun at all)
(End of this chapter)