"Is this the inside of Chanis Gate, the aura of 'eternal sleep'?" Klein stared at the black thread in the air, examined it for a few times and then quickly turned off his spiritual vision. Then, under the leadership of the internal watcher, he entered the room marked "
"Information" Shimen successfully took out the information he needed.
When the heavy stone door slowly closed behind him, making a muffled sound that echoed continuously in the deep, silent underground, Klein realized what was wrong just now.
What does "eternal sleep" mean?
Although it was true that when I saw those black lines just now, I felt that my entire consciousness was going to sleep and dissipate, but this word is the same as that time when I looked directly into the blood of the "Eternal Blazing Sun", it is the feedback brought about by spying on high-level items.
?
While trying to sort out his thoughts in his mind, Klein said hello to Siga, who was on duty at Chanis Gate, saying that he could guard him for a while.
After he stood in the duty room and watched Sika gradually disappear around the corner of the spiral staircase, Klein slowly sat down on the wooden chair that still had residual warmth and looked through the literature that almost occupied the entire table.
He has encountered too many problems that cannot be solved recently, whether it is that he is suspected of being watched by the goddess, or the angels of the "God of Mysteries" have come into contact with the members of the Tarot Society, or Daxter who is controlled by the Psychological Alchemy Society and the real one are...
Demiurge-Tainted Hood Organ Raid.
These are all without exception. They all involve high-level existences. They are all small Sequence Eight in themselves. They cannot be solved and guarded against by a "clown". Therefore, there is only one choice left for him now, which is to try his best before the danger breaks out.
Improve yourself and try to rely on gray fog to gain a certain amount of initiative. Even the worst plan cannot threaten the safety of Benson and Melissa.
Now I must collect as much information about the "secret" as possible, and at the same time make full use of the "gaze" that may come from the goddess. If necessary, I can surrender to the church to avoid risks... Klein looked heavy
He read the information in his hands, thoughts racing in his mind. After all, no matter how much he maintained a good attitude for the sake of his own stability, he could not really "forget" the dangers from the unknown.
"Perhaps I can try to read that note again. I haven't read it since I was promoted. Maybe I can get some more information about the 'God of Mystery'. At the same time, if Mr. Azik gives any information in the reply,
Regarding the 'summoning' information, I can also take a gamble and prepare as many trump cards as possible for myself." Klein muttered to himself in the narrow duty room, and his left hand resting on the edge of the table unconsciously seemed to be shaking.
It was like a fog on the ground, tapping the edge of the wooden table, once and for all, very rhythmically.
............
At No. 94 Berklund Street, Azik Eggers was sitting on the sofa. He took the coffee handed by the maid with familiar movements and nodded slightly.
"You resigned from Tingen University?" Bill Hawkins, who sat opposite him, had sparse golden soft hair on his head, clear green eyes, only a thin beard, and his legs were slightly
The middle-aged gentleman with ectropion was stirring the coffee in his hand and asked Azik with a smile.
Azik symbolically took a sip of the Queen's coffee in his hand. A trace of undetectable attachment appeared in his brown eyes. He relaxed his body slightly, sighed and smiled bitterly:
"I recently discovered that I may not be suitable for such a comfortable life, or that I am too lonely. I still want to search for my own past and find my 'parents'."
Bill Hawkins was Azik's old acquaintance when he was a student at Backlund University. As the second son of a nobleman, he finally relied on his family's influence to successfully stay in Backlund, unlike most of his classmates.
University, and has now become an authoritative expert on the history of the Honakis Mountain area, a full professor.
He put down the small porcelain plate he was holding, placed the back of his hand naturally on his knees, thought for a moment, and then said:
"Azik, you have been looking for your parents since college. After so many years, even we have reached this age, some things have already..."
"In short, my personal suggestion is that you can take this opportunity to relax. Recently, my students and I are preparing to organize an expedition to the top of Mount Honakis. If you are willing to help, you can try it together for a change.
Feeling."
After saying that, Bill Hawkins, the man with a sparse head, placed the coffee cup in his hand and the small porcelain plate under the cup on the small mahogany table. The only sound left in the room was the sound of burning coals.
"Oh, Bill, I'm glad to be invited by you, but I may really need to go out alone recently. I think it may be difficult for me to help you. After all, you are far away from the research on Honakis Mountain.
More professional than me." Azik Eggers, who was silent for a while, glanced at the photo of the inter-school canoeing competition placed on the fireplace in the distance, and his fingers couldn't help but touch the warm porcelain.
Coffee cup rim.
Bill Hawkins, who was sitting opposite Azik, sighed silently, curled his lips like he did when he was young, and said helplessly:
"I know you won't agree easily, but there may be other places where I can help you. There are not many old classmates who still insist on studying history."
Listening to the complaint of his friend in front of him, Azik couldn't help but smile on his soft face. He touched his beardless chin with his right hand. His bronze skin reflected the orange-red light from the fireplace:
"After all, history doesn't make money, but being a consultant does."
"Maybe I really have a favor that I need you to do. I want to know some history about the Balam royal family. This is the research direction of one of my students. He has recently been studying the history of the Quaternary Age." Azik thought.
Thinking about it, he put his left leg on his right leg and skillfully came up with a set of words, "You know, although Tingen is called a university city, its stock of some documents is pitiful."
Bill Hawkins opened his eyes with some interest, and answered without even thinking:
"No problem, but what should I give you? Do you want to live in Backlund for a while?"
Azik shook his head and denied:
"I should be leaving Backlund soon. I still need to trouble you to send those materials to Tingen."
The tall Azik took out a pure gold-embellished fountain pen from his formal pocket, quickly wrote down the residential address of Klein Moretti in his portable notebook, pulled it off with a swipe, and handed it to him.
old classmate.
Bill Hawkins took the piece of paper that was not neatly torn, glanced at it, nodded slightly and said:
"It's not a problem. I'll have my assistant deliver it to this address."
After talking about the business, Bill paused, and then asked curiously:
"Do you like this student very much?"
Azik was stunned for a moment, then nodded uncertainly:
"He is very similar to me. He is a young man with great promise."
Bill listened to Azik's description and became interested for a moment.
"Has he graduated now? Although Backlund's environment is not good, he can still provide some necessary help and platform for his academic studies."
Azik smiled and shook his head, interrupting his old friend's words with a calm voice.
"He has joined a company with government background and is now engaged in antiquities-related work."
"Related to antiquities?" Bill Hawkins, who was more conservative in thinking, frowned, "That kind of money-scamming business!"
He didn't wait for Mr. Azik to explain, waved his hands and shouted:
"You haven't been in Backlund in the past few years. You don't know those people, those people treat research as a business. The one sold a few days ago, the stone slab in East Chester County that is called a Quaternary Artwork,
Those are simply broken rocks dug out from Hedrak Village, and Hwen was deceived by them!"
"Hey, do you know what other story they made up? They said that thing was from the collection of King Angerweed, and the inscription on it said this. I have never heard of this king at all!"
"You should advise your student to get out of this kind of company as soon as possible. This will not lead to any good results!"
Angelweed Azik raised his eyebrows slightly, as if he recalled something in his mind, and a vague gray-white lizard figure appeared in his memory.
He suppressed the discomfort that felt like his brain was swelling, pressed his temples, and explained slowly:
"Not all companies are like this, Bill, Klein's..."
Bill Hawkins waved his hand. He realized his gaffe, lowered his head, and his whole figure looked a little lonely.
"I will send those materials to your students. I have been a little nervous recently. You know, the reason why I rely on family connections to stay in college is because I don't want to get involved in this kind of thing...
.”
Azik's brown eyes reflected the figure of his old friend. He stood up after a while of silence, exchanged a few words before making a request to say goodbye, and spent the rest of the time with his friend.
Wrapped in a double-breasted coat and holding down his silk top hat, he braved the cold wind and walked to the intersection of Berklund Street, where he stopped a hired carriage and drove to the North District, which was not far away.
While passing through a densely populated road, the carriage that was running smoothly suddenly jolted. Inside the dark red-lined carriage, the tall gentleman with bronze skin who was sitting in the middle disappeared silently.
There were only a few banknotes left that were weighed down by stones.
At the door of the bookstore at the end of the road, Detective Zerrell was looking around, waiting for the appearance of his best "assistant" Ian.
Suddenly, he felt a cold wind blowing over the back of his neck, which was exposed to the air, and immediately his whole body became cold.
With many years of professional experience, he turned around confidently. His right hand in the pocket of his heavy coat had already touched the mahogany handle of the revolver, ready to shoot potential enemies at any time.
He glanced around, only to find a tall gentleman with soft features leisurely passing by him, standing at the door of the bookstore reading a newly printed newspaper.
His gait was relaxed, and his body showed no traces of training. It was just his bronze skin and slightly mixed-race face that attracted attention.
Zerrell nodded secretly, and then relied on his "warrior" intuition to look inside the bookstore through the glass window, and checked the customers in the store one by one.
If I hadn't been promoted again, my height would have increased, surpassing the level of most Loen people, and I would have been at least Sequence Seven. If this mission succeeds, and if the information is true, when I return to Fusac, I will
At least he will become a colonel, a true "guardian".
I had already consciously acted in advance... Zerrell, who had not discovered the enemy, turned his gaze back and looked at the position next to him again.
At this moment, he suddenly discovered that the bronze-skinned gentleman who was standing next to him and reading the newspaper was missing!
"How is it possible? I am a "warrior". In order to make up for the weakness of the lack of sequence, I also brought a sealed item corresponding to the "psychic person". Why didn't it call the police on me?"
Zerrell's nerves were tense again, and he became alert to the possible dangers around him.
............
Azik, who had wandered through the spirit world to his rented room in the East District, put down the newspaper in his hand, and couldn't help but recall the suspicious-looking man just now.
A "warrior" with a "psychic" sealed item... Azik took out the stationery he put in the drawer, and at the same time took out the commonly used letter with pure gold decoration from his formal pocket.
I sat in front of the dim gas lamp with my pen and wrote my reply word by word.
"Dear Klein:"
"I'm sorry to reply to you at this time. I have been busy meeting with my former classmates and teachers recently. There may be some information about the Balam Empire that will be sent to your residence recently. I hope you can save it for me first. I
I will pick it up myself after this."
"About the questions you raised..."
The pen made a faint rustling sound on the slightly inferior letter paper. Azik's right wrist kept moving, and as time passed, it moved to a position closer to the corner of the table.
Snap!
Azik finished writing the last character, gently closed the cap of the crimson pen, folded the slightly rough letter paper in half and put it into the envelope.
As the blood-colored fire paint completely sealed the opening of the envelope, a coldness suddenly occupied the entire room. In the surrounding air, the yellow became more yellow, the black became darker, and the red became more red. Each one was glowing with hazy light.
White bones spewed out from the surrounding void, and in an instant they spliced together into a giant skeleton monster with pale flames burning in its eye sockets.
He curled up in the room, his head pressed very low, his huge pale palm stretched out to the long table where Azik was sitting, his fingers spread naturally, waiting for the letter he needed to deliver.
His eyes were filled with a dark golden halo at some point, and Azik, with an extremely cold expression, said nothing and casually placed the letter on his huge palm.
The flames in the eyes of the crouched giant skeleton suddenly surged, and the ferocious body quickly faded away. The whole room became empty again, and the heat of burning coal began to occupy the room again.
Azik pulled his chair back, stood up slowly, walked to the window covered with a layer of oil, and looked down at the night-time East End shrouded in gray-black steam.
From this gentleman's perspective, there were countless souls being suppressed and wailing under the factory that was spewing smoke and heat in the distance. Nearby, in relative peace, one soul after another with numb faces was prostrate on the ground, heading toward his feet.
I worshiped this small red brick building as if praying for a miracle to come.