The Master of the Strange Realm

"Write it on paper? Write it on paper while you still have the memory?"

Jenkins asked again.

"It doesn't work. I am now sure that I must have purchased a weapon that cannot be recorded at some time in the past. This power is very strange. In fact, when I went to the church for help, I couldn't make anyone remember what I said."

At this point, the old man looked at Jenkins seriously:

"In other words, you are the first person besides me who can understand and remember this matter."

"Oh~"

Jenkins sighed, actually to cover up the fact that he didn't know what to say.

"So what should we do now?"

"The slower way is to wait for Befanna to come back. She is a demigod and may be immune to this kind of memory interference. But she will not be able to return to the parish until at least tomorrow night. I am afraid that thing will cause trouble during this period."

"There is more than one demigod in Nolan City."

Jenkins suggested.

"We generally don't seek help from pagans unless it is absolutely necessary."

The old man shook his head and refused, and at the same time pointed to the papers on the table.

"The only way left is to check the store's inventory, because of an incident five years ago where a numbered item went out of control. The concept of the inventory in the antique shop itself has extraordinary power. I think there may be some clues in this."

Jenkins heard about this once from his father. At that time, someone sold a batch of old books in the antique shop, but they were mixed with pages of B-10-1-8211 "Books in Books". This is a very dangerous Class B [Extraordinary] that can change the concept itself to a certain extent.

That time, the father was lucky enough to find the clues before the power of the page completely went out of control. But even so, part of the power of the page still leaked, and the father's antique shop had to be closed urgently for two months, waiting for those powers to dissipate.

Since then, [the inventory of goods in the father's antique shop] has never been wrong. Both the father and the church believe that this is the power of B-10-1-8211. Because this is not a negative impact, the church has not taken any action on it. In the past few years, the father has only regarded this as a convenience, but it unexpectedly worked tonight.

Checking the complicated list of goods is a very troublesome thing, otherwise Dad and Jenkins would not have asked to work together. The two checked until the early morning, and Chocolate had woken up twice before they found clues in the transaction records of the summer three years ago.

A complete purchase record should include the time, place, amount and trader, in addition to which Dad would paste the corresponding bills on the back of the record. Although the record that was found to be problematic had all the items, Jenkins checked it twice before realizing that those items were exactly the same as the records at the same time a year ago.

If it weren't for a good memory, this would be difficult to detect.

"In other words, the unrecordability of the unknown weapon conflicted with the remaining power of B-10-1-8211, resulting in the retention of records, but the records were wrong."

Jenkins concluded.

"That's probably it. Let me see the name of the item--"

Dad stretched out his finger and pressed it on the paper. Small words written in dark blue ink were right under his finger:

[Antique gun (unknown model, unknown production date, unknown origin)]

Section 802 Chapter 786 Help from the pagans

These small words were in Dad's handwriting, but Dad would definitely not record such vague information in the list of goods in the store he was looking at. Strangely enough, before discovering that other items were wrong, Jenkins read this line of words more than once, but never realized that there was anything wrong with it. It was not until he checked that the information of this item was wrong that he could understand what Dad had written.

Of course, he had completely forgotten the gun in the restaurant at noon.

"A gun, I think it should be a pistol, because our store has never purchased other firearms such as shotguns."

Dad raised his hand to press his temple, then frowned:

"Although the target has been determined, we still don't know what it is..."

Dad's right index finger tapped regularly on the armrest of Jenkins' sofa, and Jenkins was also worried.

This unknown influence was obviously also affecting him. Although the influence was very slight, it did work. With his current soul strength, this was almost impossible. In other words, the extraordinary power involved in the gun came from at least the evil things or even gods in the void.

Jenkins had no clue about finding that thing, and Dad was unwilling to seek help from the pagan demigods. He was very stubborn on this issue. After thinking for a long time, Dad asked Jenkins to go out with him.

"Okay sir, but where are we going?"

He stood up hurriedly and grabbed the cat who had fallen asleep in his hands. When he walked to the hallway with Dad, he took the coat off the hook and put it on. When he opened the door, the cold wind at night and the strange smell in the air hit him.

It was cloudy tonight, and with the influence of the bad air, the whole street looked foggy. Let Dad walk in front, Jenkins turned around and locked his door with the key, feeling that he might not be able to come back until dawn.

The destination of the two was the Mr. Ink Club where Jenkins trained firearms. After an incident last year, Jenkins learned that there was a stronghold for believers of the false god [God of Guns]. Dad obviously wants to find some clues there. Although they are also pagans, this is different from seeking pagan demigods.

The distance between Mr. Ink Club and St. George Street was not far, so Jenkins and his father simply walked there. On the way, Dad talked about the news he heard in church today. He thought Jenkins would be interested:

"Remember the woman who ate Mr. Stan? The woman who awakened her ancient bloodline."

They turned the corner together, and the street in front of them was only dimly lit by street lights.

"of course I remember."

When I said this, I thought of the unlucky Miss Rick and Garcia again.

"It was discovered some time ago that her bloodline awakening was not completely natural, and the secret keeper has now concluded that there are some trace amounts of pharmaceutical ingredients in her blood. In other words, someone injected her with a magic medicine , which led to the subsequent tragedy..."

"Potion? Yes, the Keeper talked about it."

Chocolate squirmed restlessly in the arms, and it was no longer sleepy after being woken up.

"Yes, that's it. The specific ingredients haven't been analyzed yet, but the conclusion shouldn't be wrong."

As they spoke, the two left the main road illuminated by street lights and turned into an alley. It would be closer this way.

"But this is too scary, isn't it? The awakening of alien bloodline can actually be achieved using potions."

Jenkins thought about what kind of army a guy who could mass-produce such a thing would have.

"It's not as simple as you think."

Dad snorted, and at the same time he seemed to have stepped on something like a nut shell, and made a strange sound:

"That kind of medicine is definitely not universal. According to the specific blood strength, type, and human body information, the ingredients of the medicine need to be calculated and adjusted in detail. Old Jack mentioned this kind of thing. It is very complicated and very dangerous. expensive."

"How expensive can it be?"

Jenkins asked smoothly.

"The problem is not that it is expensive, but that the materials used are rare and it is difficult for pharmacists to find it. In short, this is a medicine that cannot be mass-produced."

It was already a little late when we reached the door of Mr. Ink Club, and of course it was not open.

After knocking for a long time, the doorman lazily appeared at the door and asked loudly whether the person outside was a robber. Dad had to explain his club membership number to Jenkins to gain his trust, and it was nearly an hour later when he met with the club director.

It was an office inside the club, with numerous antique guns covered in glass displays on both sides of the wall. There was even one made of pure gold, a brilliant color that reflected the light of a kerosene lamp, and Jenkins definitely liked it.

"Meow?"

"It's not food."

Jenkins warned.

Although Chocolate sometimes snoozes, as long as he gets enough sleep during the day, he will be quite willing to wander around at night. From this point of view, its habits are still the same as those of ordinary cats.

"Take a seat, you two. Oh my god, I'm so sleepy. Dad, would you like some tea? And Mr. Willamt, what do you need? I think we all need a pick-me-up."

The person who greeted the two of them was a middle-aged man with a half-bald head. He acted extremely capable. Even though he was so sleepy that he could hardly open his eyes, his Raleigh style was surprising.

This should be a believer of the God of Guns, Jenkins judged this from his status as a level 3 benefactor.

Coffee and tea do have a refreshing effect, especially if the people who make these drinks are very good at their craftsmanship. The three of them all picked up the cup and took a sip, and then let out a sigh of relief.

"So dad, why are you here so late? I promise, the club does not harbor any suspicious elements."

Judging from this sentence, the middle-aged man knows his father’s church status, but their relationship should be good.

"If you take in suspicious people, then it won't be me."

Dad said sarcastically, and then briefly told about the gun. He emphasized the interference with memory, but it seemed that the middle-aged man, like everyone else, had no memory of Dad's specific description of the gun.

"Okay, listen."

Lack of sleep made Dad a little grumpy, but it might also be because he wasted so much time talking. His voice suddenly became louder, which made Jenkins, who was almost asleep next to him, perk up again:

"I want to know if there are any firearms with the [unrecordable] characteristic?"

"There are many such things. Which one are you referring to?"

Sure enough, this question is valid.

Chapter 803 Chapter 787 Alive

"The current whereabouts are unknown, the style should be a pistol, and the [unrecordable] characteristic is the strongest."

After hearing his father's description, the middle-aged man raised his head suspiciously. He was slowly stirring the liquid in the cup with a spoon, but he stopped doing so at this moment. Pushing the cup aside, he put his hands together on the table.

"Are you in trouble?"

He smacked his mouth and asked.

"answer my question."

Dad doesn't want to cause trouble.

"OK."

The middle-aged man answered slowly, but in a somewhat reluctant tone:

"I have read some information. You are very lucky. If it were not me but Corneo who was on duty here today, I am afraid it would take some time to figure out these things. There is probably such a black pistol, God. , I don’t know what that thing looks like, people can’t remember it at all, well, let me think about it..."

The gentleman immediately showed the same expression as his father just now, which meant that he knew he had forgotten something, but he didn't know exactly what he had forgotten.

"Who knows?"

The middle-aged man could only shrug his shoulders in the end.

According to common sense, the middle-aged man in front of him should not be able to remember the information about the gun. But he is a believer in the God of Guns, and the power from the god's priesthood and his own abilities allow him to avoid some effects.

But even so, the description of the strange gun is still unclear:

"That's not a dead thing, that's... a living thing. I hope you understand what I mean."

This sentence was said by the middle-aged man himself, but there was doubt on his face.

"I can't remember the serial number, name, etc. of that gun clearly. It's possible that no one can remember it clearly, but I can still recall some of its specific origins."

He raised his hand and rubbed his temples, looking like he was having a headache:

"About the 13th century? Or the 14th century? Sorry, I'm not sure about this. In short, in the Karaska grassland in the middle of the continent, a huge ancient ruin was exposed due to an earthquake. A group of bold ancient benefactors entered to explore Treasure, but only four people escaped in the end. One of them was a believer in the great one I believed in, the God of Guns. The other two were believers in the God of Corpses and Sacrifice and the Minerals and Cave Dwellers. God] of..."

"Wait, what about the fourth person?"

Jenkins asked.

"Sorry, I don't remember."

The middle-aged man shook his head, and Jenkins noticed that his face turned pale:

"We have no way of knowing what happened underground, but what we do know is that the only thing they took out from the ruins was the pistol that could not be recorded. The adventurer who shared the letter with me suffered from headaches and nightmares after leaving the ruins. Tormented for many years, he suffered for the rest of his life, and finally committed suicide at the age of thirty-two, with last words warning us that the gun and the bullets in it were living things, and if possible, use every possibility. Destroy them even if the sect is destroyed."

The first words were normal, but the last sentence was far beyond the expectations of the listeners. Jenkins and his father looked at each other, and the latter used his eyes to signal Jenkins to ask.

"So all these years, you haven't taken any action?"

"Of course I did."

The middle-aged man shook his head slowly: "But you see, people will always forget this matter. I think there are no more than 20 people who still remember this matter, including me. But even me, every few years That’s when I remembered there was such a thing.”

"Do you have any guesses about that thing?"

Jenkins asked again.

"Of course there is. After all, it's already the 18th Era. There will always be something to gain."

He didn't hide anything about this and told everything he knew:

"There is a bold guess that the original ruins were actually part of a large seal that appeared in the material world. And those bold ancient people brought out the terrifying sealed creatures. I know you may not believe it, but this is extremely It's possible that... the seal on that gun has not been completely removed, so it hasn't caused any big trouble yet, but as time goes by, the power of that thing is becoming stronger."

He paused and looked at his father:

"Dad Oliver, I can't confirm that the big trouble you are encountering is this, but if you are really unlucky, please don't deal with it alone. In my opinion, only the power of God is possible..."

His voice became lower and lower, and his eyelids closed little by little. Before he could finish the last sentence, he lay down on the table.

Jenkins immediately got up to check and found that the gentleman was simply asleep.

"Do you need to wake him up?"

Jenkins asked Dad for his opinion.