On the four-meter-high balcony, the late autumn wind was cold and cold. Rafter Pound's face was full of tears. His eyes were dull, his mouth was trembling and his mouth was opening wide. His voice was uncontrollably louder.
"without me......"
Silently, he felt the despair that even his thoughts gradually solidified, stopped talking, and slowly lowered his head.
From an angle that could not be seen, the corners of his eyes were covered with bloodshot eyes, and the capillaries were swollen and thick, as if they would explode at any time.
Finally, he raised his head. Although tears were still hanging on his face, his tone was much calmer, and his eyes seemed to have been dead for a long time.
"The house I sold, the old residence of the Pound family, was originally a precious legacy that my cousin, the respectable old Viscount, ordered me to protect even at the risk of my life."
"But I was too young at that time, and I couldn't disobey those people of unknown origin. My cousin left before he could tell me all the secrets."
"They replaced the familiar servants around me one after another, and the kind old housekeeper also disappeared. In order to protect myself, I could only sell the property and let them find the underground secrets on their own."
His tone was desolate, the corners of his mouth were raised strangely, and his eyes were dead.
"Look now, those people didn't find anything, right?"
"Have you ever been underground, the real underground ruins?" Klein, hiding in the darkness, rubbed his forehead that was beginning to throb, his voice still hoarse.
Rafter Pound, whose whole body was stiff and no longer struggling, was stunned for a moment, and then said calmly:
"I've been there, of course I've been."
"I only remember that there were corpses of our Pound family in front of the door, and countless snakes and vicious curses were wandering in the hall, which could take away my cousin and me at any time."
"I just took a look at it from a distance, and I will never forget that scene again."
Klein played with the coins that were being thrown up in his hand, looked at the upward patterns in his palm, and then asked:
"Then let's talk about the secret between the Pound family and the 'Hunter'."
He had no intention of asking here about their relationship with Tudor, Sauron, Einhorn, or even the Red Angel - Medici.
Judging from the final result, Tudor and Trunsoest may be the winners in this secret struggle, while Sauron, the Einhorn family, and Medici are all just secret victims.
At least one of the victims of the Sequence One Angel, a battle of this scale has secretly pointed to something even more shocking.
The identity of the Hades Emperor is very clear, he is the God of Death from the Fourth Age.
The War of the Four Emperors...maybe it can be called a genuine war of gods.
Raft Pound, who was hung by himself outside the balcony, naturally didn't know what Klein was thinking. He still looked indifferent and said "naturally":
"Our family is in charge of the 'Hunter' path and even retains the demigod's potion formula."
As he spoke, he changed the subject, his tone became urgent, his voice trembled, as if he wanted to prove something, and his teeth chattered.
"But my cousin didn't have time to tell me. I, I only know the low-sequence formula. As for the demigods, that formula should also be hidden in the old house, and they may have already searched it!"
Zheng!
The coin fell, and Klein looked at the front with his face printed on it, nodded slowly, and still said in a voice so hoarse that his original characteristics could not be heard:
"I trust you."
He put away the coins in his hand, looked into the distance, and tightened his grip on the cane.
"But I hope you can tell me the low-sequence recipe you know. I can't come here in vain."
Huh? Rafter Pound, who was shivering in the cold wind, looked a little confused.
He originally thought that this was just another method of those people, and did not expect this development.
"I, I, I..."
Those recipes are in a sense his last possessions!
"I only know 'hunter', 'provocateur', 'arsonist', and the rest..."
Raft Pound, who was hemming and hawing, suddenly felt that his hands were relaxing, leaving the cold iron railing, and his body was falling straight down.
This guy didn't even want to ask for the formula. He wanted to throw himself to death. This is a place four meters high!
brake!
In mid-air, Pound's body suddenly regained its agility. He struggled like a toad in boiling water, but he heard the sound of the fabric tearing behind him getting louder and louder.
"Ah, help, help!" He opened his eyes suddenly and found that his clothes were hanging on the decorative hollow under the balcony handrail, and the pajamas behind him were holding on with difficulty.
Under his call for help without caring about his image, the house that had already fallen asleep became active again. The woman's scream, the housekeeper's panicked order, and the sudden lighting of the lights attracted all the people around who were still awake.
look.
Not far away, Klein, who was walking on the street tapping his cane, also cast a curious look. His right hand was ordinary and showed no spiritual fluctuations.
The gaze hidden in the nearby trees moved away. In Klein's spiritual vision, a roughly red figure stood out in the darkness like a firefly, running towards House No. 29.
They rushed over in a hurry, stopped outside the garden, and waited anxiously until they saw the curtains on the second floor window of the house were opened, and a female figure passed by for a few times before they felt relieved and stepped back.
Klein, who had already boarded the hired carriage, withdrew his gaze, and the smile on his lips became even brighter.
"Sure enough, Rafter Pound is still under surveillance by some people."
He didn't know when he took out the coin again, playing with it, throwing it away, and dropping it.
Recalling the results of the divination just now, Klein's smiling expression slowly disappeared, replaced by a look of solemnity.
Half of Rafter Pound's answer just now was false, or at least some details were blurred in an attempt to mislead Klein.
It's a pity that the environment at the scene did not allow me to sneak in. Otherwise, I could have directly channeled the spirit through dream divination and asked him to tell me the truth... He shook his head slowly, and an idea suddenly flashed through his mind,
He looked out the window with some confusion.
"'Mysterious', are you awake?"
His voice was so low that if you weren't close to him, you might not be able to hear it.
In the silent night, the noise of the carriage's bumpy driving was amplified several times. Listening to the clanging sound, Klein relaxed and leaned against the backrest, and his sitting posture gradually became more casual.
"woke up."
Klein, who had just relaxed a little, almost jumped up. His body was strangely tense under the powerful control of the "Joker", like a cat that was out of control while jumping. He turned his waist and sat firmly back on the back seat.
The coachman who was driving in front looked back strangely. When he saw his employer sitting solemnly and upright, he shook his head and looked away again.
Klein, who sat upright as if facing a formidable enemy, lowered his voice and said:
"When did you wake up?"
"Just now." It was indeed a "mysterious" voice.
He sounded extremely tired, as if he had just experienced a big battle.
Sitting on top of Sefirah Castle, he looked at the moved notes, his slender pale fingers kept tapping on the table, and the corners of his mouth raised.
Klein calmed down in the carriage, and after thinking for a while, he chose to get straight to the point.
"Red Angel Medici, is he the ghost in the ruins?"
Through the clone in the spirit world, he was admiring Medici's boredom in playing with the corpses of Sauron and Einhorn and smiled. Then he let go of the control and spoke his own voice, which was calm.
"Yes, He was the sword of the Creator, my friend."
He looked at the "happy" Medici who was "playing" and suddenly stopped what he was doing. His brows furrowed deeper and deeper, as if he felt something. He raised his head with complicated eyes and looked at the ceiling, as if he was thinking.
Try looking further away.
Klein, who was still chewing on the "secret" answer just now, thought about it again, decided to take the plunge, and continued to ask:
"Medici is the first sequence of the 'Hunter' path?"
"Soren, are those two from the Einhorn family in the underground ruins too?"
"Tudor, I mean the Tudor who has a seat in the ruins, is he also a 'hunter'?"
Listening to the questions surrounding his body, "Secret" almost couldn't help but stand up and applaud.
But he still sat calmly on his seat, touching the corners of his mouth and the smile that became more and more obvious at some point, and spoke slowly:
"Medici, Einhorn, and Sauron are all sequence one angels. Tudor, yes or no."
Yes or no?
Feeling the bumps in the car, Klein raised his eyebrows and felt a sense of disobedience.
What is yes and no? Aren't extraordinary people only able to choose one path?
Even if the adjacent paths are interchanged... Could it be that Tudor was once an adjacent path to the "Hunter", and which path is this?
"He is not a 'witch'."
Peering at the Source Castle, Medici was gradually unable to suppress Sauron and Einhorn. The two translucent shadows were not very real. The "mystery" flew out of the crystal on the chest of Medici's original corpse.
After a pause, he decided to "maintain" his little dignity for the "Blood Emperor".
"Although she is very popular with the three grand dukes of the Fourth Age, she is not a 'witch'."
This sounds even weirder!
The three dukes, Klein couldn't help but imagine some scenes from Korean comics, the noble blood prince and the nobles under him...
Fortunately, the identities of those three people and Tudor were confirmed, and it turns out that the adjacent path of "Hunter" is "Witch"...
One is male and one is female, but the sequence of sex changes is inconsistent.
Hmm, it has the charm of a crazy asymmetry... He stopped the topic sensibly and prepared to get off the bus at the edge of the Backlund Bridge area.
Here he will transform into Sherlock Moriarty again, and then return to Minsk Street.
The carriage passed by, and a mature man wearing plate glasses slowly walked to another street intersection, taking his time.
............
The valley on the outskirts of Backlund is not as quiet as the city. All kinds of creatures come and go, as if cheering that this place is not polluted by civilization and is pure and joyful.
In the deep valley, a faint blue light suddenly shined, breaking this beautiful scene. The natural banquet that was so lively just now came to an abrupt end. A man who looked like a tough guy, with his arms hanging down close to his knees, suddenly appeared deep in the valley.
Outside.
He glanced around cautiously, turned his wrist slightly, and then disappeared.
The various creatures that had been frightened just now popped up again and looked in a direction in the distance. The blurry figure of the man was reflected in the eyes of the crow standing at the top of the tree crown, and it turned stiffly like a puppet.
head.
Suddenly, all the creatures around him trembled suddenly, illusory threads rippled, and returned to normal in an instant.