The Master of the Strange Realm

No one was there.

"At least it's not the worst."

Jenkins comforted himself.

He continued to follow the purple line to the second floor of the store, then hesitated for a few seconds and pushed open the door of his father's bedroom.

The quilt was neatly folded on the bed. Because the window was not closed tightly, one side of the bed sheet was soaked.

Jenkins fixed the candle in his hand on the desk, looked at the guidance he followed, and sank directly into the wooden floor.

He squatted down, shuddered violently, and then groped on the floor. Because of the reminder of the purple line, he quickly lifted up a loose floor, and inside was a rusty iron box, scattered bullets and pistols, a stack of letters and the key that his father often used, fixed together with black wire.

"Goddess bless, I hope my father will forgive me!"

Jenkins skillfully drew the holy emblem of [Inherited Sage] on his chest, and then picked up the top piece of paper pointed by the purple line with his normal left hand.

The luxurious color representing destiny disappeared immediately. Jenkins was stunned for a moment and found that it could not be activated again, so he unfolded the letter in his hand:

Dad Oliver:

The fat woman who came to your store to sell badges yesterday morning has been identified. The specific information and the report Billy gave me are attached to the letter. The poor student Black Wilt from the art college you asked me to investigate last week did not have any abnormalities, but I still did not find out how he got the ring.

In addition: The source of the ring has been found out. Its owner is the guard of Baron Morton who disappeared three weeks ago. He was last seen at the Flame Bar at 11 o'clock in the evening.

In addition: The payment has been received.

Yours faithfully,

Fat Jack

"What do you mean?"

Jenkins originally thought that there would be some kind of wonderful ritual recorded here to help him reverse this strange situation; or, the letter paper is actually a powerful weapon, enough to destroy the demigod.

But, it is really just a letter.

From the content of the letter, since the church is currently short of manpower, Dad used his own connections to investigate the customers who sell extraordinary items in the antique shop. The fat woman mentioned here should be the landlady who sold her tenants' relics, but I already knew about this, so what's the point?

"No, the fat woman may not be the key."

Jenkins looked at the "poor student" from the art college mentioned in the letter.

"I met him twice. The first time he came to sell things nervously, and the second time Mr. Bro helped me find a painter."

Jenkins muttered to himself, frowning and breathing heavily.

"The original owner of the ring disappeared on the night three weeks ago, which means that Wilt picked up the ring by accident."

"No, if it was that simple, there would be no need for my ability to lead me here, so let's assume that the guard's death hides a huge secret."

"No, on the night three weeks ago, there wouldn't be any secrets. The only thing I can think of is the octopus. Let's assume that the octopus killed the guard."

"But that doesn't make sense. The octopus is real only to those who see it, so the people killed by it won't leave corpses and relics. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a serial disappearance case, but a serial murder case."

"So, when the guard was killed by the octopus, Blake Wilt must have been there."

Jenkins muttered to himself faster and faster.

"That's not right. If I remember correctly, Mr. Bro said that he believed in the righteous god [Lightless Moon]. So shouldn't he report this to the police or the church? Did he conceal the octopus just because he wanted a relic of the deceased?"

"That's not right. Since he had seen the octopus, how could he not be crazy? At least he shouldn't act so normal."

The only conclusion appeared, and the man's face showed a crazy expression.

"That octopus, controlled by Black Wilt?"

He put the letter back to its original place with a heavy breath, took out the pistol from the secret compartment and put it on his waist, then walked out of the room with a candle.

"If this is true, why guide me to know this? Can I beat someone who can control that kind of creature?"

He roared in a low voice like a madman, standing on the stairs. The floor of the first floor was only the muddy footprints left by Jenkins just now.

He shook his head like a wet wild dog, trying to shake off the rain or sweat that flowed down his cheeks. He immersed the candle in his own spirit again, locked the shop door, and turned to run to the police station three blocks away.

But he stopped in the rain again while running, turned around and looked at the door of the street-facing apartment he had just passed, with the words 431B written on it.

"431B Queens Avenue, the left compartment of the attic, if you send a letter, please mark it to Mrs. John. This is the mailing address that Blake Wilt told me when I met him that day."

Chapter 45 Chapter 44 Murder and Loot Jenkins

He reached into his coat, and the pistol that was not wet by the rain was there for the time being.

"So Blake chose to sell things to his father, just because the distance was close? So careless, confident in his own strength?"

Jenkins turned his head to look at the carriages with lanterns gathered at the corner of the street, and then looked back at the house number "431B".

"You will be killed by yourself!"

He muttered, walked up the steps with a pistol in hand, and knocked on the door.

"Oh my god, who is it at this late hour? If it's a robber, you know the patrolmen pass by every ten minutes!"

The voice of an irritable middle-aged woman came from the door, mixed with incomprehensible dialects and swear words.

"Hello, I am Black Wilt's classmate, and I am here to visit him."

"Spirit of All Things, it's eleven o'clock now, sir, what are you doing?"

She did not open the door.

"I am really his classmate, just want to take shelter from the rain! This damn weather, I just came out of the bar on the corner and it became like this, ma'am, please believe me."

Jenkins said, biting the pistol in his mouth, and took out a ten-pound note from his pocket with his free left hand.

"No."

He said to himself, then put it back and stuffed a one-pound note into the crack of the door.

"Please, be kind, this is all the money I have. I swear I won't cause any trouble."

There was a moment of silence, only the sound of the rain was still ringing. Then, the door was opened a little. First, the black muzzle of the shotgun was exposed, and then a withered woman's face behind it.

She looked at the shivering Jenkins nervously, and probably convinced by his overly young face, nodded and let Jenkins in.

"He lives in the compartment on the left side of the attic, right?"

Jenkins said before the woman could speak, and then walked up the stairs by himself, holding a pistol in his left hand.

The woman pursed her thin lips and stood on the carpet at the door, "Be quiet, don't wake up other residents."

Jenkins didn't care what the person behind him said at all. He went up the stairs and stopped on the fourth floor, which was the attic.

His heart was beating violently, but he couldn't turn back.

"May the [Inheritance Sage] bless you, your glory illuminates the way forward for people."

He took a deep breath and gently knocked on the door leading to the attic.

"Who is it? Oh, God, don't let it rain again!"

Soon, there was a noise in the attic, the sound of clothes being dressed, and then a low complaint, and soon a familiar face appeared.

At the moment the door opened, a sudden loud thunder shook the sky. Jenkins pulled the trigger without thinking. The surprised young man covered his chest with surprise, and was pushed back into the house by Jenkins. He covered Blake's mouth and fired several shots at the young student's body in the continuous thunder.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Until Blake's body stopped twitching and Jenkins' pistol was empty, he let go of his body.

"Did he die like this?"

This scene was a bit funny. Jenkins looked at the body at his feet with the murder weapon and kicked it, revealing the young man's face and several blood marks on his chest.

"Huh?"

The fire outside the window illuminated the murder scene. It was not thunder but an explosion. Judging from the location, the explosion site was the [Knowledge and Books] Church.

The whole city was awakened by the explosion, and Jenkins could hear the commotion from the people who were awakened downstairs.

He first stuffed the brass bullets/bullets in his pocket into the magazine, and his soaked sleeves were completely stuck to his arms.

He turned on the [Eye of Truth] and scanned around, moved the corpse aside, and then squatted down to look at several oil paintings in the corner.

Just like the works that Black Wilt had shown to Jenkins, all the paintings were full of weird and strange styles.

He didn't care about those paintings, but pulled out a piece of white paper from behind the painting that was pressed in the innermost.

Unlike the oil paintings, there were only simple pencil sketches on the paper. It can be seen that the painter's skills are indeed superb, and a giant octopus that looks like an evil god descended to the world was sketched out with just a few strokes.

"Weird thing."

Jenkins laughed for some reason, "That octopus is not the real body, this painting is!"

He got up, dragged his heavy body to the small window in the attic, swept the withered pots of plants on the windowsill to the ground, and then lay there with his whole body.

The cold breath of his right hand suddenly trembled the moment Jenkins touched the paper, and the impact made him almost unable to move.

"I understand, this is what guidance means."

Through the rain curtain, looking at the greatest wisdom of the steam age that appeared in the sky at some point - the floating steam airship, watching the black shadows landing from the airship and then contacting the ice-blue figures on the ground, watching the fire spreading in the rain with the church as the center, Jenkins finally understood what he should do.

He moved his body and fell to the ground, crawling hard on the dirty floor, and luckily found a pencil and eraser in the pile of oil paintings.

"Erase it, erase it."

He said nervously, stroking the paper to wipe off the eraser, and holding the pencil in his left hand.

Chaotic whispers came into his ears, and the paper in his hand seemed like a demon that swallowed the soul, whispering to tempt Jenkins to draw his hope with his soul.

"I can't draw!"

(divider)

"Binxi, long time no see!"

The man holding the flaming sword yelled loudly, and then was punched in the stomach by [Ice Servant] Brut, and half of his body was frozen.

"Now is not the time to say hello!"

Binxi took a deep breath and threw the broken metal block of the church door at the enemy. It continued to increase in size in the rain like a sponge absorbing water. But Brut, who was entangled by the support that fell from the sky, just exhaled a breath, and the giant metal was frozen into powder.

"The rain is his home court!"

The black-clad Requiem shouted loudly, with his long-dead colleague at his feet. The man holding the phantom of the trident beside him pulled him to avoid the scattered ice chips.

"Hold on a little longer, the airship carries the holy relic, we need time to prepare."

The man holding the flaming sword said loudly, and Brut heard this, his stiff face suddenly looked up, then opened his hands and pushed outward, and the several figures entangled around were immediately repelled by the sudden appearance of the ice wall.

"I'll take the things away, and see you again if you are lucky!"

He said to everyone with a sneer, and then ran quickly to the alley on the street.

Chapter 46 Chapter 45 Sir, do you want to buy flowers?

But there seemed to be something hidden in the shadows, a cold light flashed, and Brut, who was covering his left arm, frowned and looked forward.

In the fire, a young man with black pupils, black hair and yellow skin was suspended in the air. His calm expression seemed to transcend the whole world, and the ice-blue and flame-red rapiers without hilts kept turning around him.

"Who is your Excellency?"

Brute asked loudly, and one side of his body flashed slightly and turned into a pure light form, but the young man did not speak. He waved his hand, and thousands of white sword qi fell from the sky.

After Jenkins finished his somewhat abstract painting, he fainted. He came to the streets of Nolan City as if in a dream, and followed his instinct to fly to the center of the fire.

He could see all this but could not control it. It seemed that the instinct in his subconscious mind controlled his body's actions.

The familiar face of a stranger appeared in front of him, and he raised his hand and a sword qi pierced his right arm, and then recited Chinese that had not been used for a long time:

"Qianfang Canying Sword."

It was like watching a movie with magnificent special effects. The flying sword fairy beat the ice-using superpowers to nowhere to hide.

Even if the [Ice Servant] froze the whole street into ice, even if he controlled the raindrops to condense into thousands of ice arrows to fight back, even if he transformed part of his body into elemental form to try to avoid the attack, they were all resolved by the sword fairy.

But [Weirdness] has always been dangerous. Gradually, Jenkins could feel that the sword fairy seen from the first perspective was losing control. His attack was no longer limited to one enemy, and at the same time, the strange whisper appeared in Jenkins' ears again.

"Spare your life!"

Watching Brute, who had lost his left arm and was covered in blood, disappear at the entrance of the sewer, Jenkins gritted his teeth and tried to find the feeling of waking up. He knew that if he didn't quit, he would probably become mentally ill even if he could wake up.