At eight o'clock in the morning, after returning from the gray fog last night, Klein, who had a fairly good sleep, climbed out of bed with a dazed look in his eyes.
The temperature in Backlund dropped quickly. It was clearly not winter yet, but it was already cold enough to make people shiver. But even so, Klein still did not wake up from the haziness of just waking up, but was still in his own state as before.
It was like a rental house after graduation. I walked to the bathroom in a daze, relying solely on the rough memories in my mind.
He only reacted as the cold water was slapped on his face one after another under the support of his palm.
My face, the stiffness caused by the human skin mask is gone? He looked at himself in the mirror, who was much more energetic, and deliberately moved the muscles on his face, feeling a little surprised.
Sure enough, the strength of "Secret" is quite reliable, so I don't have to worry about the bodyguard lady anymore... Even if a member of the Tarot Society has something to do, "Secret" will temporarily help me deal with it.
, after all, He doesn’t want my specialness to be exposed casually.
After tidying up, he strolled to the single sofa in the apartment. He picked up the chain-blade cane that was leaning on the side of the coffee table, moved his neck, and slowly walked towards the door.
Just when his right hand that was holding the door handle was about to turn, his movements froze for a moment, then he turned around, looked at the empty room, and asked tentatively:
"I'm going out today, will you follow me in this way?"
Wow.
Through the not-so-clean glass, it spread wantonly throughout the living room. The relatively bright sunlight was distorted. Her face was as delicate as a doll. The bodyguard lady with blond hair and blue eyes suddenly appeared on the glass of the room window, her figure clear.
She quietly stared at Klein who was standing at the door of the apartment. A trace of doubt seemed to slip through her calm blue eyes. She nodded slowly and then disappeared.
Looking at the sunlight that once again dyed the entire room golden, the bodyguard lady in Klein's eyes had disappeared.
He controlled the urge to raise the corners of his mouth, skillfully took off the half-high silk hat on his head with his right hand, bowed slightly, and then opened the door and left.
Half a minute later, after walking through the familiar corridors and stairs, Klein glanced at the first floor of the apartment building. Mr. Aigron, who was sitting at the front desk as usual, silently reading the newspaper, couldn't help but quicken his pace and walked a few steps to the newspaper at the door.
In front of the shelf, I randomly picked out a newspaper of the day.
Or the Ripper and the Rotting Man Corpse... Hey, why is there another one now, the Bone-Crushing Demon? Klein looked at the exaggerated newspaper titles one after another, with an expression on his face that was free from the negative effects of magical items.
Transformation, eyebrows raised high.
Is this really the Tussock River Journal?
Klein, who couldn't believe there had been so many bizarre cases recently, turned over the newspaper in his hand, looked at the huge bold logo on the first page, and fell into deep thought.
............
"Mr. Evans, this is it. Below is the basement I found." Miller Carter, an old-school gentleman wearing a light gray coat and carrying a black gold-inlaid cane, looked at the entrance to the basement that was simply blocked by the servants with sundries, and turned sideways.
The young man with a strong bookish attitude next to him introduced.
There is indeed a certain problem here... Turning on spiritual vision in advance, combined with his own special "darkness", Dunn nodded slightly after checking it roughly. With the blessing of spiritual vision, his vision got rid of the isolation of darkness and examined
Looking at the gray-white stone door deep in the basement, he couldn't help but clenched his hands in his pockets.
In a place that ordinary people cannot see, several slow-moving black threads spread out from the shadows. They intertwined with each other and twisted into a shape that was almost like a tentacle, speeding up to swim deeper into the darkness.
Dunn, who was controlling all this, with veins popping out of his hands in his pockets, tilted his head slightly, with a smile on his face, and said casually to Mr. Carter beside him:
"This is indeed a large underground space."
"Can you see it?" Miller Carter, who had a little bit of gray on his temples and deep nasolabial folds, was stunned for a moment and asked with some confusion.
After all, Mr. Evans, who was repeatedly praised by Mr. Babbage, had never been inside, so how could he conclude that the basement at the back was not small.
Dunn, who was distracted by controlling the "darkness", smiled, casually took off the glasses that had been placed on the bridge of his nose, and rubbed his right hand constantly.
In another vision after he closed his eyes, the tentacles made of silk threads had penetrated into the tiny cracks in the gray door and slipped behind the door.
Just as the tentacles swimming forward like poisonous snakes raised their "snake heads", a strange bang exploded in the courtyard in the distance, interrupting Dunn who was barely controlling the "darkness".
"Angelo, what's going on?" Mr. Carter, who suddenly heard a bang, turned around suddenly, supported his lower back with his right hand, and shouted towards the entrance of the first floor.
Within a few seconds, the young manservant known as Angelo had already rushed to his side. He looked at his employer nervously and said awkwardly:
"Sir, just now, someone threw a baggage in, and there was a lot of black stuff oozing out of it..."
Dunn, who had stopped rubbing his eyes and put on his glasses again, suddenly paused. His dark red eyes instantly broke out of his trance. He looked at the panicked servant and asked with a frown:
"Where is that thing?"
Mr. Carter, who had not yet reacted, was also lost for a moment, and then said immediately:
"Yes, what was thrown into the yard? Now take Mr. Evans and me to see it."
With that said, the two of them passed directly over Angelo, who was even more nervous at the request of his employer and Mr. Detective, and walked up the stairs, leaving only the manservant, who was a little confused.
Separated by some scattered objects, the dark basement still maintained a cold and scary look. The "darkness" that had slipped through the gray-white door before was like a small snake that was pinched by someone's seven inches, with scarlet blood spreading all over its body.
The lines, struggling crazily, returned to nothingness again with a bang.
In the hall behind the gray door, countless long snakes with triangular heads and red patterns were also entangled and struggling with each other on the ground, pouring out the most primitive desires of living creatures.
However, for three days, the endless pouring seemed to have drained all their essence. The rich blood dance lingered in the center of the hall, constantly compressing and gathering, and even the most basic fishy smell of blood did not escape.
The blood cells, which are close to vermilion, move as if they are alive, like the heart of a giant beast, opening and closing as if breathing.
Finally, the presence in the blood mist that had just blocked the "darkness" from peeking behind the scene absorbed all the sacrifices.
He ignored the dilapidated figure that appeared in front of him through the remnants of his ritual, and mocked maliciously:
"Look, look, who is this? Isn't this His Highness the Red Angel who killed me, the 'Devil King', for not daring to show his face?"
"Why are you like this?"
Amidst the hoarse laughter, deep in the hall, a figure made of smoke and flames slowly raised his head. His young and handsome face was extremely pale, and his red eyes were rational and calm.
............
On Williams Street, at the Atomic Lord's Mansion, a man in a black coat stood next to the policeman who was taking notes, looking at the large yard.
Miller Carter, who was standing not far away, looked at Angelo who was being questioned by the police for details. He subconsciously turned his head to the right and asked in a low voice:
"What should we do in this situation? The police shouldn't look toward the basement, right?"
Just now, he and Dunn witnessed the servant opening the package that was suddenly thrown into the garden, and found that it contained a rotting, incomplete body!
"Probably not, this is just an accident." Dunn, who pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose and looked at the corpse from a distance, said softly without knowing what he was thinking.
As he spoke, he seemed to remember something. His dark red eyes just condensed, but became blank again. After two seconds of silence, he returned to normal and said to his employer:
"I'm sorry that this happened. I may not be able to continue exploring the basement for you in the future."
He looked at the members of the Heart of Machinery who were already walking towards him, and took out his hands from his pockets.
Dunn, who had already learned from previous chats that Miller Carter was also a believer of the goddess, notified the police and the Heart of Machinery in advance while the gentleman was still at a loss in order to avoid meeting his former colleagues.
"I'm sorry sir. I'm Karl, the inspector of Backlund Police Station. Next, we may need the assistance of Mr. Evans." The member of the Heart of Machinery, who looked meticulously organized and also wore a pair of glasses, clicked.
He nodded and said slightly apologetically to Miller Carter beside him.
............
Mike Joseph.
Klein took the envelope that Mr. Aiglon had collected before, and after thinking about it for a while, he walked into the office building of the Daily Observer. He looked at the receptionist behind the front desk and walked forward quickly and asked:
"Is Mr. Mike Joseph here? I received his letter before."
The receptionist who was sitting boredly behind the front desk looked at the sudden shadow in front of him, stood up, adjusted his somewhat decadent expression, looked at the form at hand, and then turned around and said:
"Sorry, Mr. Mike went out before. Do you have anything to do with him?"
She looked at the gentleman in front of her, who was not too young and had a somewhat high hairline, with some confusion. She relaxed a little when she discovered that the envelope in his hand was indeed printed with the newspaper's logo in wax.
One story goes that she was recently frightened by gang members who were dissatisfied with the report of a corpse appearing next to the Golden Rose Club and kept coming to the newspaper office to disturb her.
"It's like this, I'm a private detective. This Mr. Mike saw my advertisement in other newspapers before and wanted to hire me to help him complete the interview investigation." Through his spiritual vision, he found that the lady in front of him was a little nervous.
Klein subconsciously used a softer tone, took two steps away from the front desk, and handed over the letter in his hand.
The receptionist who took the envelope and glanced at the contents paused for a moment, then pulled out a palm-sized booklet from the table beneath him, and placed it gently on the front desk together with the pen.
"Mr. Mike has already gone out this morning. He usually goes out for a long time. You can write down your contact information and purpose of visit here first. I think he will take the initiative to contact you if necessary."
"Okay." Klein, who was not too surprised by this, took the matter as he was doing. He picked up the pen on the booklet, moved his wrist slightly, and quickly wrote down his specific address and purpose of visit.
After he finished writing, he glanced briefly and looked above him at the message written by the previous visitor, and at the end he signed Sherlock Moriarty's name.
Above the traces of wet ink, Louis Evans's cursive signature is very conspicuous.