"Did your chief mention any further measures to deal with the exploration team?" Alger, whose doubts were rising, carefully glanced at the "Fool" sitting at the top, and saw that the god was still calm and indifferent.
After that, he thought about asking the question.
"Yes." Derrick "The Sun" nodded ignorantly, "The chief requires that after returning to Silver City, all team members participating in the exploration must be isolated and observed. People like me who go deep into the temple may need to go underground.
Only after it is confirmed that there is no contamination can freedom be restored."
Underground... Audrey instinctively felt that there was an unspeakable danger hidden behind this simple word.
As the daughter of a powerful noble, she was qualified to know about the Extraordinary prisons controlled by various churches and official Extraordinary organizations. According to the Extraordinary people she came into contact with, they were recognized as hell on earth.
But "Sun" didn't seem to have any additional psychological fluctuations. It seemed to him that this was a natural decision... "Justice" moved his lips slightly, and finally gave up the idea of asking questions.
"Is it an underground prison made of sealed objects?"
Alger, who has the most experience and knows the Beyonder Prison best, frowned.
He didn't care about "Sun"'s life safety, nor was he worried about whether this member would miss Mr. Fool's gathering due to the influence of the underground prison.
Except for another god, no mysterious power can block the call of one at the top of the sequence.
If the "sun" is indeed contaminated, it will no longer be possible to contact a convenient place like Silver City... Thinking of this, Alger clasped his hands slightly harder.
Derrick subconsciously looked at his superiors and felt a little uneasy when he saw that Mr. Fool still didn't express anything.
"The underground prison preserves two god-level sealed artifacts."
He tried hard to embody the "common sense" he had learned in general courses, but due to his lack of experience in facing dungeons, he could only present boring darkness and long narrow passages.
He only had one experience, when he got to know his parents personally.
"I only know that one of the god-level sealed objects is called the 'Crown of Glory'. Legend has it that it is the crown of the Giant King Ormir, which can release the morning light and purify evil."
God-level sealed object, the crown of the ancient god?
The name Olmir immediately reminded Xio of the Olmir red wine that her father loved when she was a child. However, her reason told her that unlike now, which is not understood by everyone and is just used as a pure myth, the Olmir referred to here is
Ermir is an ancient god who really existed.
For a moment, there was a shock of history coming to reality.
The so-called god-level should be the corresponding zero-level sealed object... But why did the chief just let the elder who was once suspected by "The Sun" believe in the evil god and the "Sun" who hid the secret follow him into the secret room?
Alger nodded slightly as he thought. The worries hanging in his heart were much lessened, replaced by more doubts.
"Crown of Glory"?
The index finger of the hand covering the long bronze table was raised slightly, and Klein, who was at the top, was startled.
Silver City actually possesses two zero-level sealed artifacts, which is more abundant than many rectangular parish cathedrals.
"Have you ever behaved in a special way in Silver City or around your chief?" During the pause between everyone's sighs, Alger suddenly looked directly at the "sun" and asked sharply.
Derrick, who suddenly looked embarrassed, opened his mouth, his eyes suddenly flickered away, and under the gaze of "The Hanged Man", he stumbled and said:
"I once prayed to Mr. Fool."
Stupid! This time, not only Alger, but also "Justice" and "Judgement" rarely showed some dissatisfaction. Only Foer, who was a little distracted just now, was developing whether the material of the Ancient God's Crown was writeable.
He was confused, and as for the dummy "world", he was still lifeless, staring at the Lord at the top.
"That was the first time we explored the ruins of this city. On the way, we met Loholid, who was under Mr. Fool's seat." "Sun" recalled the predicament at that time, feeling a little aggrieved. "He grazed at least three more
Demigod-level puppets, and each one can break away from the main body and fight independently."
"I only called Mr. Fool's honorable name when both the Chief and Elder Lovia could no longer hold on."
"No one around noticed."
He was still too young, and he should actively admit his mistakes at this time... He didn't understand the situation very well, but he apologized to his friends, and Forsi, who had already developed a mature kneeling skill, shook his head.
"Don't worry, that elder Lovia is a believer in the true Creator. She will not be harmful to the people marked by Mr. Fool." Seeing the atmosphere of the party becoming more and more serious, Klein quietly raised his finger, and the "World" at the bottom
"He turned his head mechanically.
At the same time, he also seized this opportunity, turned back to the identity of "The Fool", pretended to be relaxed and knocked on the table, and hurriedly made a rescue:
"do not worry about it."
The emotions around the long table gradually subsided. Alger, who did not have any anger in his heart, withdrew his gaze with satisfaction, while "Justice" and "Judgement" who were sitting opposite still had a little worry in their eyes.
Alas, in the end, it was a bit off topic. The overall level of the Tarot Club was too low, and the matters discussed were often secretive, so this situation occurred... Klein shook his head imperceptibly.
"That's it."
...........
The drumbeat of the heart rhythmically drives the blood to deliver warmth, and the dazzling silvery white streaks across the horizon from afar, connecting more vertical and horizontal lines to tear the dark sky.
Derrick, who was sleeping on a relatively flat stone, listened to the movements around him. His right palm resting on the hilt of the "Sword of Silence" suddenly clenched tightly, and he suddenly opened his eyes.
"There are still three hundred breaths before departure. You woke up in time."
The dim red torch illuminated the messy silver-white beard. The old man, whose face was covered with deep wrinkles like ravines, picked up the weapon and took a few steps closer to Derrick.
"Thanks."
Faced with the other party's concern, Derrick, who was not good at words, just nodded in response, and then looked at the burning torch in the farthest distance. Following the light and the thorny lightning flashing irregularly in the distance, he peered into the darkness.
The outline of mountains in the middle of the Ming Dynasty.
"In about one day's walking, we can return to Silver City." The old man holding a torch walked quietly behind Derrick, his cloudy eyes looking in that general direction, with a cluster of flames dancing in it.
The noise caused by more people waking up was mixed with the sound of the wind. Derrick's hand holding the sword hilt tightened unconsciously, and his mouth suddenly felt dry.
"What's it like in the dungeon?"
He licked his lips uncomfortably and forced himself to look in the direction where the old man was standing.
My mother once said that this is the basic etiquette that should be observed when communicating with others.
"Dungeon..." the old man who was staring into the distance murmured softly, the dancing flame in his eyes half extinguished.
He shook his head, pulled himself out of the dream that only he knew, and sighed:
"It's just like the houses on the ground, except that there is no chance to see light there. Under the power of the god-level sealed object, monsters cannot appear even if there is no light, so most of the cells have no lighting."
"Well, you should know that the people there are all contaminated or have problems themselves, so it may be noisy at night, but as long as you stay in your cell honestly, don't try to communicate, and ignore those other
People in cells generally have no problems."
As he spoke, the old man turned his head, looked at the crowd that had begun to form, and hurriedly added fuel to the torch.
He held the container of grease in one hand and lowered the torch with the other. His head, which had not much flesh, took the opportunity to look behind him, and the corners of his mouth that were as chapped as an old tree raised a slight smile.
"Don't worry, kid. In fact, the dungeon is not that scary. Just treat it as a normal isolation."
............
Backlund, five o'clock in the afternoon.
The exploded warehouse has not yet been cleaned up. Scattered tiles are everywhere. The steel bars twisted by the heat are stubbornly clinging to the ground, standing on the bare ground. Workers in shabby brown uniforms are as small as ants around it.
Since machines replaced most of the traditional workshops, the working hours of textile workers have not been shortened, but have been increased with time extension techniques that cleverly avoid labor laws. Now, even at five o'clock in the evening in winter, there is no
A worker walked out of the factory gate.
The figure wearing a black double-breasted coat walked alone on the street filled with yellow mist, looking out of place with the surroundings.
After finishing the Tarot session, Klein took a short rest, then went to the subway station near Backlund Bridge, where he usually served as the point of contact with Yin En, and wrote down the meeting place in an hour.
After doing all this, he sat alone in a hired carriage, bypassed the edge of the East District, and directly entered the factory within the dock area.
The warehouse where Capping once held slaves is located here.
Without making any more disguises, Klein, who was dressed in formal attire, just brought along his previously forged press card. As a journalist, he generously approached the ruins of the warehouse surrounded by the East District police and gangsters.
Before those fierce big men drove away, the actual situation in the ruins of the warehouse was imprinted in my mind.
The workers hired by the police were mainly concentrated outside the warehouse, cleaning the collapsed steel structure on the ground, while the area near the underground part was controlled by gangs... However, there were two Beyonders among them who could not see the sequence clearly.
He has put on some disguise, but his position and behavior do not look like a gang member... Is this someone from MI9?
Klein seemed to casually avoid the newsboys running on the street and the unemployed workers sitting on the roadside, holding wooden signs in their arms, waiting for the foreman to choose, and walked in with many eyes that were either numb or envious.
A tavern filled with the pungent smell of alcohol.
This kind of pub that specializes in low-quality beer is distributed throughout the East District. They refer to the business model of maritime city pubs and do not pursue the taste of alcoholic beverages. They put the alcohol content first, but they are quite popular.
However, these pubs are generally controlled by various gangs. In addition to being partially used for bounty hunter activities, they have basically become gathering places for gangs.
Klein looked at the dirty hall shrouded in dim yellow lights, walked to the bar familiarly, and took a glass of wine from the bartender without arousing any suspicion or noise.
If I don't consider the existence of other extraordinary beings, with the magician's illusion, I basically don't have to think about changing disguises.
Taking a symbolic sip of beer, Klein leaned sideways and squeezed towards the edge of the pub, where a thin figure in a shabby coat occupied the wine table.
"Good evening, Yin En."
The big boy touched his face, a smile appeared on his tired face.
"Good evening, Detective Moriarty."
After learning about Kapin's death, he vaguely realized something. He moved out of his original residence overnight and spent several nights under a bridge filled with unemployed workers, without getting enough rest at all.
"I saw what happened in the newspapers recently."
Klein pulled open the squeaky wooden chair, pushed the beer glass away, looked at the big boy who was asking questions nervously, and took out the chocolate with irregular edges from his arms.
“Rogue ‘Black Emperor’, right?”
"That is indeed a bit excessive. I heard that the police have begun to make great efforts recently and even alerted MI9."
Hearing the word "Black Emperor", the drunk man behind Klein turned his head blankly, and before Yin En could ask further questions, he grinned and said:
"That's a good guy. I've long heard that Capin is a bastard who buys and sells women!"
Klein kept smiling and nodded slightly.
"He is indeed a bastard, but the police are also very angry. They were so angry that they recently hired some bounty hunters, vowing to find out who made the houses in Cherwood unsafe."
Hire a bounty hunter?
Yin En, who looked gloomy, was just stunned for a moment, then understood what Klein meant, and squeezed out white marks with his hands holding the shabby cloth bag.
"Then Detective Moriarty, what should we do next?" Yin En's eyes wandered a little.
"Do you still remember that notebook?" Klein was silent for a moment, holding the inferior beer on the side. The pungent smell of alcohol made his nasal passages clear.
"It's the one you gave me when I was working last time, the one at the flea market."
Yin En searched the corners of his memory, his eyes changing from blank to firm.
"I plan to give that notebook to a friend of mine." Klein put down the cup.
Detective Moriarty plans to draw the police's attention to Cappin's enemies?
Yin En thought about the possibility of this idea and nodded secretly.
Kaping kidnapped young girls wantonly in the East District. Not only did many workers whose families were broken up and their wives and children separated as a result hated him, but he also touched the interests of many gang groups. As a result, many small gangs lost their credibility among workers. If it hadn't been for them before
Kaping has the help of extraordinary people and is unable to resist. Now there will definitely be more gang fights in the East District.
"Then, what do you need me to do?" Feeling more and more that this idea was effective, Yin En praised it without forgetting his own duties. He looked around and asked cautiously.
Looking at the skinny big boy in front of him, Klein moved his rigid face and tried his best to make his smile more natural.
"No, I think my friends will solve this matter. What you need now is to ensure your own safety."
"If necessary, you can live in the Backlund Bridge area. I will provide rent and help you buy a house you can trust."
He was talking about the apartment of Mr. Agron. Although this gentleman was also a member of MI9, he was alienated from the group and had a certain sense of justice.
Upon hearing Klein's promise, Yin En was stunned for a moment. He quickly turned his head, and after a moment, changed the subject.
"By the way, Detective Moriarty, I've heard some strange news recently."
"It seems the gangs in the East End are looking for a university professor."
"It seems to be called Azik Eggers."
－－－－－－Digression－－－－－
Please give me a monthly pass and recommendations, please!
I've been reviewing recently and it's exam month. I hope you understand. Of course, there will be double updates tomorrow.