The Lord Of The Mysteries

The Chapter 119

Tingen City, 2nd Street Daffodil.

Klein, who had left the note, locked the door and walked quickly towards Leonard Mitchell who was waiting by the side of the road.

Leonard's short black hair had grown a little over the course of a month, and the lack of grooming made him look messy.

Even so, her disheveled hair still praised her decent appearance, emerald-colored eyes, and poetic vibe. It exuded a distinct sense of beauty.

Indeed, any hairstyle depended on his face.Klein sneered inwardly. He pointed towards Iron Cross Street and asked, "Is Frye waiting for us there?"

"Yes." Yeah." Leonard tidied up his shirt and said casually, "Do you see any clues when you look at the documents?"

Klein held his wand in his left hand as he walked along the side of the road and said, "No, I can't find anything common at their time, location, or cause of death. you should know that any ritual involving an evil god or demon. must be performed within a certain period of time or using a special method.”

Leonard touched the custom-made revolver hidden behind his shirt, on his waist and chuckled.

“It's not an absolute rule. In my experience, some evil gods or demons are easily satisfied, as long as they have a special interest in what is asked of them.

"Also, a large number of deaths appear to be normal. We have to get rid of it before we can get to the real answer."

Klein glanced at him and said, "That's why the Captain asked us to investigate once more. To eliminate the normal incident."

"Leonard, your tone and description tell me that you have enough experience in this field, but you've only been a member of the Nighthawks for four years, with an average of two supernatural incidents a month. In addition, a large number of them are simple and easy to complete."

He always felt that Leonard Mitchell was a little strange and mysterious. Not only is he always suspicious of her, believing that there is something about her. In addition, his attitude also changes from time to time, sometimes quiet, sometimes arrogant, sometimes frivolous, sometimes quiet.

"Maybe you also had a chance encounter? The meeting that made you look at yourself as a star in a drama?" Klein made a rough conclusion based on all the movies, novels, and dramas he had watched in the past.

Hearing this question, Leonard laughed and said, "That's because you haven't fully become a Nighthawk. You are still in the training stage.

"The Holy Cathedral collects records of all the supernatural encounters experienced by the cathedral from the various dioceses and passes them on to its members once every six months.

"In addition to your mysticism lessons, you can apply to the Captain and ask to enter the Chanis Gate to read these notes."

Klein nodded in enlightenment.

"The captain never mentioned this to me."

Klein had yet to have the chance to enter the Chanis Gate to date.

Leonard chuckled and said, "I think you're used to the Captain's style. To think that you're still naively waiting for him to remind you …"

After saying that, he added meaningfully, "We must be careful with the Captain if one day he remembers everything."

Does that mean losing control? Klein nodded, his expression serious. He then asked, "Is forgetfulness unique to the Captain? I thought it was a problem caused by the Sleepless Sequence."

Burning midnight oil usually leads to memory loss…

"To be more precise, it was a unique symptom of Nightmare. With dreams and reality intertwined, it is often difficult for a person to distinguish between what is real and what is not. They needed to remember what was not part of the reality." Leonard wanted to explain further, but they had already arrived at Iron Cross Street and found Corpse Collector Frye waiting for them at the public train station.

Frye wore a round black hat and a jacket of the same color as the leather bag in his hand. He was so pale that it made Klein suspect that he would soon faint at any moment. His cold aura made everyone waiting for the carriage keep a distance from him.

After nodding at each other, the three gathered in silence and walked past the Smyrin Bread Shop before turning into the Iron Cross Street Lower Road.

They were immediately faced with a frenzy. Merchants selling shellfish soup, grilled fish, ginger beer, and fruits cried hysterically asking for attention, causing pedestrians to involuntarily slow down.

It's been five o'clock a little past. People returned to Iron Cross Street, and the side of the road became crowded. Some children mixed in the crowd, coldly watching everything, putting their attention on the pedestrian pockets.

Klein often came here to buy cheap food and was familiar with the streets, especially since he had lived in a nearby apartment in the past. He reminded the group, "Be careful with thieves."

Leonard smiles. "You don't have to think about them."

He pulled his shirt and adjusted his holster, revealing his revolver.

Suddenly, all the gazes fixed on them shifted. The pedestrians around them instinctively made their way.

Klein froze for a moment, then caught up with Leonard and Frye with big strides. He lowered his head, trying hard to avoid being noticed by anyone he knew.

Benson and Melissa are still in touch with the neighbors here. After all, they didn't move too far.

The three walked through an area that had a lot of peddlers and turned to the actual Lower Street Iron Cross Street.

The pedestrians here were all wearing tattered old clothes. They were wary of strangers wearing bright and beautiful clothes; however, there was also greed in their eyes, like vultures eyeing for food, waiting to attack at any moment. But Leonard's revolver prevented an accident.

"Let's investigate yesterday's death. We'll start with Bu Lauwis, a woman who glues matchboxes to make a living." Leonard flipped his notes and pointed somewhere not far away, "First floor, No. 134 …"

As the three of them walked forward, the children who were playing in the streets and wearing shabby clothes quickly hid in the corner of the street. They were watching them with eyes full of curiosity and fear.

The air that was a mixture of various scents entered Klein's nostrils. He could vaguely detect the smell of urine, sweat, and mold, as well as the smell of burning coal.

Klein could not help but pinch his nose. He then looked at Bitsch Mountbatten who had been waiting for them there.

Officer Mountbatten has a brownish-yellow mustache and is envious of the rank of inspector Leonard.

"Sir, I've asked Lauwis to wait in her room" Bitsch Mountbatten said with his unique, shrill voice.

He clearly did not recognize Klein, who now looked even more excited and deserving. All he cared about was siphoning off the three officers in front of him as he led them to the Lauwis family on the first floor.

It was a simple apartment. There was a bunk bed placed upright in the room and a table filled with glue and hard paper on the right side. The corner of the room is stacked full of frames for matchboxes, while an old closet sits on the left, serving as storage space for clothing and cutlery.

Stoves, toilets, and a small amount of coal and wood occupied both sides of the door, while the middle of the room was occupied by two dirty mattresses. A man was sleeping under a torn blanket, leaving no room for anyone to walk.

A woman was lying on the floor under the bunk bed, her skin ice-cold. It was clear that he had lost all signs of life.

Next to the corpse sat a man in his thirties. He had oily hair, looked desperate, and his eyes lost their luster.

"Lauwis, these three officers are here to examine the body and ask you questions" cried Bitsch Mountbatten, ignoring the sleeping man.

The desperate man looked up weakly and asked in surprise, "Didn't someone have already examined the corpse and questioned me?"

He was wearing a grayish-blue worker uniform that saw signs of having been repaired several times.

"The answer when I told you to! Why do you have so many questions?" Bitsch Mountbatten scolded the man, then turned to Leonard, Klein, and Frye. "Officer, this is Lauwis. The one on the bed was his wife, who was also deceased. According to our initial analysis, he died of a sudden illness."

Klein and the others tiptoed to the edge of the bed.

The tall-nosed and thin-lipped Frye said nothing in her cold demeanor. Instead, he patted Lauwis gently, gesturing for the man to give way so that he could examine her corpse.

Klein looked at the sleeping man and asked, "This?"

"M-my tenant." Lauwis rubbed his forehead while saying, "Hire this room three soli ten pence a week.I'm only a worker at the port, and my wife makes two quarter pence per box of matches glued together. Each crate h - has, up to 130 boxes. We, we have children too. We can only rent out the rest of the space to others. We only charge soli a week for mattress..”.

"I have a tenant helping out at the theater, and he doesn't come back before 10 p.m. He sold his rights to a mattress during the day to this t-man. He is the one who guards the theater gates at night. , so he only pays six pence every week.”.

Hearing the other party stammer as he explained, Klein could not help but look at the chest in the corner of the room.

One crate contained 130 matchboxes and produced only 2.25 pence, roughly the cost of two pounds of black bread ?

Leonard looked around and asked, "Was your wife behaving abnormally before her death?"

Lauwis, who had been asked a similar question, pointed to his left chest and said, "From last week, yah—maybe a week before, he said, he said that he felt stuffy in this area and could not breathe. "

Precursor to heart conditions? Ordinary death? Klein interrupted, "Did you see how he died?"

Lauwis recalled, "He stopped working after sunset. Candles and gas were more expensive than matchboxes.He said that he was very tired and asked me to talk to the children and let him rest. When I saw him again, he stopped breathing."

Lauwis could no longer hide her sadness and pain when she said that.

Klein and Leonard asked some questions, but were unable to find anything unnatural about the death.

After they looked at each other, Leonard said, "Mr Lauwis, please wait outside for a few minutes. We'll do a thorough examination of the corpse.I don't think you want to see it."

"Good." Lauwis stood up worriedly.

Bitsch Mountbatten walked towards the mattress and kicked the tenant, violently chasing him out of the apartment. He then closed the door and guarded the room from outside.

"So?" Leonard looked at Frye.

"He died of a heart attack" Frye said with certainty, pulling back his hand.

Klein thought for a moment before spending half a cent, intending to make a quick assessment.

"Bu Lauwis' heart attack for supernatural reasons?" No, it's too narrow, the answer might be misleading..Hmm, "There are supernatural factors that affect the death of Madam Lauwis." I'll use that! He quickly decided on a statement.

As he read out the statement, Klein walked over to the side of Madam Lauwis' corpse. His eyes became darker as he tossed the coin.

The sound of coins echoed around the room as it fell, directly into Klein's palm.

This time, the portrait of the king was facing upwards.

It means that there was a supernatural factor that affected Bu Lauwis' death!

During the Victorian era, a crate contained 144 boxes of matches. That labor is worth 2.25 pence. A woman who works all day can do at most 7 crates.