The Lord Of The Mysteries

Chapter 232's

Wh who? How does that guy know that I bought the Sheriff's prescription? Xio's dark green pupils shriveled as he scanned his surroundings in astonishment, but he didn't see anyone watching him suspiciously.

According to Mr. A, the transaction here should be very safe and confidential here. Finally, Xio could not help but look at the one sofa where Mr. A, whose face was covered in a hood, was sitting. He was still secretly assessing people without revealing anything strange.

He nudged Fors with his elbow and whispered, "Should I go?"

Fors took the paper, glanced at it, and replied without hesitation, "Go, at least you still have Master A watching. No one dares to do anything to you, so you can take the opportunity to find out what the other party's goal is. Who knows? you might actually get the ingredients of the potion you wanted as a result?"

"That makes sense .." Xio, who was a very proactive person, immediately nodded to the attendant, followed him into the study, and finally, dressed in a hooded robe.

This hood could cover my entire face, until I could not see the road in front of me. After wearing that hood, Xio opened the door and saw a man wearing a tuxedo sitting behind the table.

The man wore a gold mask that exposed his eyes, nostrils, mouth, and cheeks, but it was impossible to identify him.

The light brown eyes behind the golden mask shifted as the man pointed to the chair across the table and said, "Sit down."

His voice was deliberately hoarse; otherwise, there was nothing special about it.

Xio closed the door of the study, stuck out his chest and raised his head, and sat in the designated position without feeling intimidated. He then asked, "Do you have the main ingredients for the Sheriff's potion?"

The masked man chuckled and said, "Yes, I have the eyes of the Terror Demon Worm and the right palm of the Silver War Bear.

"In fact, the Sheriff's potion formula you bought was sold in my name …"

Xio is often ridiculed as brainless by his best friends, but for surviving in the Beyonders circle, in the gangs of the East Borough, and among the poor, he is not a completely reckless person. He had an intuition for danger similar to a savage beast.

He asked in a deep voice, "Why are you doing this?"

"To choose a suitable maid." The masked man laughed. "With your financial situation, it will be difficult for you to collect the money needed for these two Beyonder ingredients in a short period of time. Of course, you can sell the formula at other Beyonder meetings, but please, believe me, this will bring you unnecessary danger. Our circles may not overlap, but I'm not the only one."

Xio frowned and said, "Since you have such a large organization and have the formula for the Sheriff and Arbiter potion, why do you need my help?"

"There are certain things we don't want to deal with on our own. There are many reasons, but I don't need to tell you that. And any Arbitrator who embarks on a journey as a Beyonder himself has, more or less, some connection to the aristocracy. This is something we need," the masked man explained, simply.

It seems like he doesn't know about my origin, nor does he know my reputation in the East Borough.

The masked man continued, "Just treat it as an additional mission outside of the Beyonder meeting.I'll give you some missions and pay you with the appropriate reward. If you feel that it is dangerous, you can reject it. This is fair and free trade. . Once you save enough money, you can buy the ingredients from me."

This ... Xio, who was still struggling with his financial situation, suddenly his heart trembled. She continued her acting for nine seconds before she said, "As long as I have the right to refuse the mission, I can consider it."

"No problem." The masked man laughed. "We can agree on where and how we will meet in the future. To make you feel comfortable, we'll give you the right to decide the details."

"Good." Although Xio was still confused and did not understand why the other party was offering his mission to do, he still agreed.

At the very least, he could not identify the obvious danger at the moment.

…

Klein busied himself by buying chairs and tea sets and fixing his clothes all Sunday. He spent a total of 6 pounds 9 soli to restore the living room, dining room, and himself to his original state.

How terrible it is. I hope the police department repaid me from Meursault's treasure. Huh, the odds are small because, at best, only partially. Klein placed the invoices and receipts neatly, waiting to be used in the future.

Of course, in terms of income alone, he had committed a considerable murder. Beyonder Meursault's characteristics are worth at least 300 pounds, or more.

The premise of all this is that Klein has access to the circle of Beyonders.

After dinner, wearing a turtleneck sweater, a solid-colored sweater, a grayish-blue worker's coat, and a hat, Klein came out, once again, with a, and make two transfers before arriving at Iron Gate Street in the Backlund Bridge area. .

He looked at the Bravehearts Bar after taking a few steps. He looked at the seemingly heavy black wooden door and a muscular man nearly two meters tall with his hands folded.

The muscular man judged Klein, but he did not stop him from opening the door, but his throat moved as he heard the cheers inside.

That's when the bar experienced the peak of its business. Even before Klein entered, he felt a heat wave swallow him up. He could smell the strong scent of malt beer and hear the commotion.

Not surprisingly, he saw two stilts in the middle of the bar. One was a rat fishing competition with dogs, and the other stage had two boxers patiently waiting for the fight to begin.

The smell of alcohol mixed with the smell of sweat emanated. Klein lifted his gold-framed glasses and pinched his nose. While protecting his belongings, he walked over to the bar counter.

Before the bartender could say anything, he said, "One glass of Southville beer."

This is the best beer the Loen Kingdom has produced.

"Five pence" replied the bartender like clockwork.

Klein took out a handful of coins and counted five pence before handing them over in exchange for a large glass of gold beer from wood. The smell of beer is alluring.

"In front of him, a lot of beer can't even be called alcohol and can only be considered a drink." The bartender laughed.

Klein lifted the cup and sipped it. It was cold and refreshing, initially bitter and fragrant, but then, the malt taste burst. It has a slightly sweet aftertaste.

After putting down the cup, he looked at the small white bubble and took the opportunity to ask, "Where are the Kalinin Caspars?"

The bartender stopped wiping the glass in his hand as he looked up and observed Klein for a few seconds before pointing to the side.

In a spirit to not waste anything, Klein brought the cup and walked into the third billiard room.

With just a light knock, he left the door creaking open.

The two men inside stopped and looked towards the door.

"I'm looking for Kalinin's Kaspars." Amidst the silence, Klein hurriedly added, "Old Grandfather introduced me."

After hearing this, a fifty-year-old man with a big nose and a linen shirt said in a deep voice, "Come in."

He had a large scar that was bent from the corner of his right eye to the side of his mouth, and his nose was a typical brandy nose, which was almost completely red.

Klein slowly walked in with the cup in his hand and saw that the opponent of the billiards Kaspars had put his staff aside like clockwork and left the room before closing the door behind him.

Kaspars Kalinin limped and asked, "What do you want?"

"Strong custom revolutionary and fifty bullets." Klein sipped another of his Southville beers.

"3 pounds 10 soli." The kaspars gave a price. "It will definitely cost more than a regular gun shop. The price includes the risk I have to bear."

"Agreed." Klein took five pieces of one-pound banknotes he had prepared out of his pants pocket and counted them.

The kaspars checked the authenticity of the note before nodding.

"You're more straightforward than you seem. Give me five minutes."

He placed the banknotes on the billiard table, leaned on a support stick, and limped to the door.

After seeing the Kaspars leave, Klein glanced back at the billiards that were being trendy and felt very similar to snooker on Earth.

It must be you, Emperor Roselle.

After waiting for a while, the Kaspars pushed the door open and entered, carrying a package wrapped in brown paper and two five-soli notes.

Klein took the money and the item and opened it on the spot. His eyes caught the long, silvery barrel of a revolver. The handle seems to be made of walnut wood.

Moreover, there were fifty sparkling bullets neatly placed inside the box.

Klein tried the empty gun, filled five bullets, stuffed the revolver into his armpit she bought some time ago. Then, he collected the remaining bullets and looked at the Kaspars. He considered and asked, "If I want to hire a good bodyguard, who should I look for?

"That's great, the kind that transcends human limitations."

Kaspars rubbed his red nose and his eyes turned cold.

He carefully inspected Klein for two minutes, using his silence to create a terrible sense of oppression.

"I can make a query for you, but there's no guarantee that someone will accept this mission."

He seemed to know more than one Beyonder .. Klein smiled and said, "No matter what the outcome, allow me to thank you in advance."

The caspars put the banknotes on the pool table and walked out again. Ten full minutes before he returned to his room. And by then, Klein had already finished a big cup of Southville beer out of boredom.

"He wants to meet you before making a decision" the Kaspars said in a heavy voice.

"No problem. I'll also determine the mission's difficulty if it's me." Klein smiled and nodded.

He followed behind the Kaspars limping through the crowded boxing ring and into the bar kitchen.

The kaspars suddenly stopped and lightly knocked on the door. After obtaining permission, he pushed it open and entered with Klein behind him.

It was a card room where more than ten people played Texas poker.

A man wearing a black vest and a white shirt slowly stood up after seeing the Kaspars and Klein enter the room. Others who were playing cards stopped and made no sound.

With a glance, Klein frowned without being able to be seen.

Regardless of the man standing up, he noticed that all the other players had an indescribable sense of oddity in them. Their faces were pale, and their eyes were like the eyes of a savage beast.

Tapping his left molar twice, Klein quietly activated his Spirit Vision.

His muscles suddenly stiffened, and he could barely control his expression as the auras of those players were pitch-black!

That meant, other than the man standing, the ten more people playing cards were all dead!

No, they did not just die, because the dead did not have the color of the aura

These are all zombies!

A rotting feeling approached him, and a man in white clothes and a black vest walked in front of Klein.

His face was just as pale, and there seemed to be a deep hatred in his eyes.