The Master of the Strange Realm

PS: Jenkins is awakening.

Another note: Some people are looking forward to some ‘nice to hear’ content. It should be noted that the protagonist of this book, the cat lover Jenkins, is definitely a normal adult male. The persistent Yang Wei is the label of male pig feet in Japanese light novels, not this book. Since it is an imaginary world similar to the Victorian era, some plots must be closer to the customs of that era, such as the chaotic relationship between men and women, lovers and mistresses, etc., so as not to cause drama. Some people really want to see no female protagonist, but judging from the background of the times, it is impossible. Unless Jenkins becomes a Japanese light novel male pig foot, or is even more nerdy than his current life trajectory, he will definitely be exposed to women. Regardless of whether you are currently reading the book and prefer no heroine, single heroine, or multiple heroines, you can express your opinions as much as possible - I will not change the plot anyway.

Slipping away.

Chapter 273 Chapter 269 Children of the Mist and the Undead

The newspaper specially included a picture from the murder scene. It was a smashed window, with shards of glass and debris in the room scattered all over the floor. It can be seen that the room is decorated like a study room. In front of the desk in the upper left corner of the black and white photo, a bloody hand suddenly stretches out, and the position of the body is outlined with chalk around the hand.

This is the most interesting news in today's newspaper, because the author of the report was laughing at Percival's extremely poor public security, but he did not expect that Nolan's situation was not better.

Maybe because Jenkins left the bed early, Chocolate woke up very early today. It slowly walked down the stairs, jumped from the penultimate step to the carpet, then jumped onto the chair and jumped to the milk basin on the table.

"Meow~"

Such a cry was considered a greeting to Jenkins.

Generally speaking, the breakfast of the nobles and big businessmen of this era was very rich, including but not limited to boiled lobster, offal balls, cold cuts, meat pies, bacon, etc., which were made by the chef's skills and the leftovers from last night. What to decide. This sounds exaggerated, but it is true, and there are even news about people who eat breakfast to death every year. It is believed that a rich breakfast can keep diners active throughout the day and energize them before the next meal.

This is one of the main causes of obesity and complications.

As for the middle class, that is, people like Jenkins, breakfast will be relatively simple, but it will definitely not be easy to deal with. But a single man has to prepare breakfast by himself. He doesn't like to cook, so he just makes do with it.

Speaking of which, the flame of the gift candle can now be freely controlled outside the scope of the candle core, which is perfect for frying eggs. This also saves some money on gas.

Because of his deal with Miss Magic, Jenkins is determined to live a hard life in order to reawaken his stingy good character.

"The price of eggs has gone up again."

With some distress, he picked one out with his right hand, knocked it gently on the edge of the bowl, and then squeezed hard to let the egg whites and egg whites fall into the bowl. After stirring with the chopsticks I drew half a month ago, pour the boiling water in, and breakfast is basically complete.

You also need to use a flame to slightly heat the bread slices. White bread made from this kind of refined grain is not cheap, but Jenkins really can't stand black bread. When that kind of thing becomes hard, it can kill a mouse.

After dinner, Jenkins was not planning to go out yet, but took out the letter from Mr. W to Mr. Clark that he obtained from the cabin yesterday. Although it is not yet known what these two people do, it can be seen from the dialogue between the lines that they should be cultists or something like that.

After flipping through the information and letters that I didn't look through yesterday, I picked up an envelope that had been sealed with red sealing wax. The pattern on the sealing wax is an engraving of a cross with a circular upper part.

"Encore Cross?"

This is a commonly used occult symbol that represents eternal life and resurrection. It is very similar to some Egyptian writings in previous lives, but it is just a coincidence.

He dug out the letter in the envelope, and the first title at the beginning almost made him spit out the milk in his mouth:

Mr. Clark.

"Mr. Clark again? Wait, does this last name sound familiar?"

Touching the chocolate beside him, Jenkins felt that there were no accidents in this world, only necessity.

The owner of this letter has no signature, but from the content of the letter, we can know that the place where the letter was written should not be in Nolan, and the person who wrote the letter is a believer of the [Immortal Lord].

Rubbing the surface of the letter with his hand, he found that the light yellow paper was quite rough. The writer of the letter was very cautious, so other than the identity identified by Jenkins, he did not disclose any valid information. Just the repeated mention of the proprietary word "immortal" even made Jenkins suspect that it was related to the ability on the burned letter found in New Truman City.

"It can't be such a coincidence, right?"

He turned around and saw "Mr. Clark" at the beginning of the letter, and felt that it might be such a coincidence.

He found quite a lot of information. After reading it all, it was already around ten o'clock in the morning. The plate in front of Jenkins was not cleared away, and even the remaining half glass of milk was completely cold.

Mr. Clark in the first letter is actually the history teacher at Newman William School who likes to read newspapers to the coachman. This can be read from the subsequent letters. The note that writes the method to fight A-11-02-3219 mentions the [Son of the Mist] plan, which seems to be related to the workers' riot that occurred on the night when the twin demons appeared.

According to the information, Mr. C, that is, Mr. Clark, is a member of a large organization and is responsible for inciting the workers' riot. After the plan failed, he decisively chose to give up his current identity and flee. The resident of the wooden house, that is, the victim of A-11-02-3219 before Jenkins, is also a member of that organization. Like Clark, he gave up his previous identity after the riot failed, fled to the woods to stay temporarily and keep some important letters and materials, and then died in an accident.

The [Son of the Mist] plan should be to launch a large-scale ceremony with the help of the smoke covering the city. However, the purpose and method of the ceremony were not specifically mentioned. It is only known that the plan will be carried out again, but the time is undetermined.

The real name of the deceased Mr. W is Alan Wesley. He participated in two operations at the same time. One is the Son of the Mist related to Mr. Clark, and the other is the Undead related to the first letter. Mr. Clark, who has disappeared, is now mainly targeting the Son of the Mist Project, and the previous letter seems to need Wesley to pass it on, but he has no chance.

In other words, Jenkins is not sure whether Clark knows about the Undead.

Jenkins did not find out what the two operations were until the end. Although Wesley was confident that no one except Clark could find his remains, he destroyed the most important part of the information out of the caution of the cult. The most important clue Jenkins could get was the two small bottles he found in the corner where the information was buried. Each bottle contained the dissolved liquid of the ashes of the illegal longevity. As long as the liquid is evaporated, the powder obtained is the ashes of the illegal longevity.

In a short, scribbled note, the unidentified person told Wesley to carefully preserve the two materials, and stated very bluntly:

These things are more important than your life!

PS: I looked at the word count in the background, and I have updated more than 150,000 this month. I am really diligent. Tomorrow is the next month, and I ask for everything at the beginning of the month in advance.

In addition: I will offer a reward again in the middle of next month, which is mid-December. I have been busy with the thesis proposal report recently, and I have eaten up a lot of manuscripts.

Chapter 274 Chapter 270 Detective Agency

"Have I accidentally gotten into some big/trouble again?"

Looking at the two thumb-thick glass bottles facing the sunlight outside, under the effect of the sunlight, you can detect very fine particles in the turbid liquid. I don't know if this is ashes that are insoluble in water, or dust.

"How about finding a time to deliver these things to the church door?"

Jenkins planned, but then thought that the missing Mr. Clark should also know that the woodland where the accident happened yesterday was Wesley's hiding place. Therefore, the saved data and plans are likely to be changed, not to mention that there is not much substantive content in them.

"Go if you feel like it, but it will take a few days."

He finally made up his mind, so he tidied up the things on the table and put them together. Now, there are many things hidden in Jenkins's house. He is also actively learning trap-triggered rituals from his father, but what he has come into contact with now is not as good as hiding a steam bomb triggered by a pull cord in the house.

Even if the weather is very cold, Chocolate is reluctant to wear the small scarf Jenkins knitted for it. But there is only the last week left in October. Jenkins believes that in the second half of November, when the coldest days are approaching, Chocolate will definitely change his mind.

There are few pedestrians on the street on Sunday, and most of them are still walking hurriedly with their necks shrunk, scarves and hats. He considered taking a carriage, but gritted his teeth and saved it. After all, it is not far.

The Howard Detective Agency where Detective Erwin Ignaz works is located in Room B, No. 38, Tibister Avenue. The landlady who opened the door for Jenkins wore a white hairnet and looked at the cat with suspicion, but she didn't stop Chocolate from entering.

Detective Ignatz was not there. He had gone out early. The recorder who was in charge of reception told him that the detective was investigating a case of divorce property transfer.

Although the office was in a rented apartment, the venue was unexpectedly large. I thought there was only one office, but I didn't expect that this was an office space that was combined after two houses were connected.

Howard Detective Agency has several experienced detectives. Although its reputation was dragged down by the assistant's blackmail incident some time ago, it still has a lot of clients.

The recorder recommended another idle detective to Jenkins. Jenkins' purpose of coming here was just to "take a look", so he agreed.

This is a well-proportioned, tall middle-aged man. He sat in the armchair opposite Jenkins with sharp eyes. Next to them was a burning fireplace. On the fireplace hung a crossed rapier and a shotgun, and next to it was a carefully framed detective's license.

It was like a scene from a detective novel, and it was also one of the marketing methods of the detective agency.

“My name is Jenkins Williamson.”

He introduced himself first, and the man sitting opposite nodded and motioned to the lady in charge of taking notes to write it down.

"Hello, Mr. Willamt, my name is Deke Irfan. Now please tell me the content of your entrustment."

He glanced at the recorder and added: "Don't worry, we will never leak the client's information."

If he hadn't known the information about the first man infected by gear bacteria, Jenkins might have really believed him... His voice was calm and slow, and his face was serious. At first glance, he looked like a man with high mobility and good work skills. Seriously sir.

"Is such that."

Jenkins slowly spoke the made-up words, but in fact he was using his "eyes of truth" to observe whether there was any aura nearby.

"I live in a house at No. 13 St. George Street. Next door at No. 12 lives the widow Lady Margaret, who lives alone."

The tangled look on his face was actually because he was surprised by the taste of the coffee and that there was no sugar cube.

"Mr. Detective, I am not a nosy person, please believe this. But this lady's behavior has indeed become more and more weird recently... I am a writer, and I am used to staying up late at night. Writing. In recent weeks, before going to bed, um, around eleven o'clock, I have seen this lady rushing out many times. You know, this is the season, even for a young person like me. I don’t want to go out so late at night.”

This is all false. Jenkins just found that the neighbor's house had lights on many times before going to bed. He planned to exaggerate the facts, and then let the detectives investigate casually and come to his careless conclusion. Even if the matter was passed over, no loss would be caused to Lady Margaret.

"So, the gas lights were on in your home when you saw her?"

The detective immediately found the point and leaned forward slightly.

"No, after I finish writing the manuscript, in order to save gas bills, I usually turn off the gas light and then go to the bathroom to wash up. And after seeing Lady Margaret many times, I don't dare to leave the light on in the dark... ...I live alone and I only have this kitten for company, so I'm a little scared."

He made a sheepish expression and stroked the cat's back. Detective Irfan nodded, as if thinking, but made no comment.

From the moment I entered until now, I haven't seen anything strange in the detective agency. In other words, the connection between this place and multiple cases is just a coincidence.

Jenkins then commissioned Detective Irfan to investigate Lady Margaret. He claimed that he had been a little nervous recently because his writing was not going well, so he was not sure whether he was being paranoid. The detectives were prohibited from following Lady Margaret directly or conducting private searches of her house for fear of disturbing innocent neighbours, all of whom were decent people.

The detective only needs to conduct peripheral background checks, so the commission is relatively simple. Jenkins is not worried about the fee because the church will reimburse the entire cost of the commission.

The entrustment content was confirmed again, and then the deposit was paid. It was agreed that the end of the entrustment would be half a month. While Jenkins was waiting for the recorder to write the receipt, the door of the office suddenly opened, and a woman wearing a floral skirt and an exaggerated sun hat walked in.

This is not the look of the season.

She looks very young, no more than 25 years old, with delicate skin with no visible pores.

"Oh, madam, you are here."

The female recorder hurriedly stood up to greet her, and then realized that Jenkins was still waiting aside, so she introduced:

"This is the owner of the office, Mrs. Agnes Howard."

After saying that, he hurriedly introduced Jenkins to the woman.

PS: Ask for everything at the beginning of the month.

Chapter 275 Chapter 271 The idea of ​​potion

Jenkins just shook hands with young Mrs. Howard politely and stopped talking.

After walking back to the street and joining the crowd, Jenkins looked back at the second-floor window and could see the recorder preparing documents with his back to the outside.

"You are so young, why do you call her 'ma'am'? Is she married? Or is it just respect?"

Chocolate looked up there as well, and then tried to fiddle with Jenkins' chin with her paw.

"Those light spots just now, is she Miss Magic? Ha, it seems that the bad luck brought by the wishing tree still exists, otherwise I would not have discovered the true identity so easily."

Meeting the true identity of Miss Magic is indeed an unexpected thing. But this discovery further rules out any connection between the detective agency and the illegal cult organization.

It's not because he completely trusts Miss Magic, but because he simply believes that it is impossible for an illegal organization to let the grantor serve as the explicit holder of the subordinate organization. This would be too easy to expose.

Of course, when Jenkins went to the church to report, he would only say that he found nothing, and let others judge what happened next.

Today's first goal was successfully completed without any setbacks. This made Jenkins convinced that yesterday's unlucky events had consumed most of his bad luck. At least these unfortunate things should not happen continuously.

The detective agency was very close to the Pig's Head Bar. Jenkins walked along the road for a while, and even pretended to stop at a small fruit vendor on the roadside for a moment before turning into an alley.

And when he came out from the other side of the alley, he had transformed into a different person.

The cat hid in his clothes, with the button in the middle of his chest unbuttoned to prevent it from suffocating.

After everything was ready, Jenkins walked into the bar. The business here was still so sluggish during the day, and the bartender in front of the bar seemed to have always maintained the same posture, standing there with half-closed eyes, wiping the wine glass with a rag that was dirtier than the tabletop.

Jenkins handed over the banknote with a special number, and the bartender nodded without saying anything. When the waiter brought the wine and bacon together, a small pocket had appeared at his feet.

Compared with the leather bag last time, this woven sack seemed more perfunctory, which was more like the bag used by dock workers not far away. But this was also because there were more replies this time.

"Goddess bless!"

He chanted softly, then rummaged through the sack with a pungent smell, and soon found the one from No. 13 Green Avenue.

"God bless you!"

He whispered again, looked around, and saw that no one was paying attention to this side, so he unfolded the rough letter paper and looked at the letters written in inferior ink.

The reply was still signed by Hunter Bell, and like the previous letters, he complimented "Miss Fabry" on her social research and excellent luck with words that were not very gorgeous and had some problems with grammar at the beginning.

Jenkins didn't have the patience to read these things, so he kept turning back. He didn't mention the substantive content until the fourth page of the letter. But unfortunately, this was not the end, and Jenkins' prayer did not work. Just when he thought the letter would end with thanks, Mr. Bell actually asked about the mining company that made Miss Fabry "rich" and hoped to participate. Even at the end of the questionnaire, he attached a 1-pound note, and he didn't know where he exchanged it for the local currency.

"Goddess, what happened?"

Jenkins almost moaned, "Does he trust Miss Fabry so much?"

But thinking about it carefully, the two sides have contacted each other many times, and "Miss Fabry" has always shown simplicity, integrity and honesty. She never hesitates to give money when asking for help from others. Even if she implicitly indicates that she is not well-off, she will immediately "repay" the kind people in Elderron after receiving help and successfully investing.

Elderron is not a very big city, and Jenkins has sent a lot of letters as of the last time. Considering the literacy rate of this era and the fact that he specifically chooses those wealthy neighborhoods to send letters, perhaps the story of the "generous and upright" Miss Fabry has been known to most people.

"I have a bad feeling."

Jenkins swallowed his saliva, took a sip of coffee, and then coughed. The coffee in this small bar tastes extremely weird.

He pressed his chest and pressed back the tail of the chocolate. He casually pulled out another letter, and the letter indeed mentioned the investment.

"I exaggerated the investment in the mining company too much in the last letter. This is bad."

He closed his eyes and felt a deep sense of powerlessness. This was the first time that Jenkins realized how much trouble a lie derived from a lie could cause.

After packing up the letters, he carried the small sack and went directly to the black market. There was not much change here, except that the stench in the sewer became stronger.