"Dear
The surface of the silver mirror shimmered faintly, quickly outlining a picture of Sherlock Moriarty leaning against the wall, his fists alternating between releasing and clenching.
Then, Iconseth Bernard and the nearby "Mechanical Heart" deacons and captains saw the private detective put on a flamboyant smile, turn around, draw his gun, and rush out.
In that instant, influenced by the composition, they all felt an inexplicable sense of tragic grandeur and excitement.
The scene in the mirror suddenly jumped, showing Sherlock Moriarty holding a revolver, shooting at the altar, but to no effect. The separated extraordinary bullets made everyone present feel a bit anxious.
Then, Sherlock Moriarty threw out a brass key, and the altar showed signs of contamination and instability.
A blast of air erupted,
At this point, the scene changed, with the slightly murky River Tasok becoming the main background. Sherlock Moriarty and Mr. A floated in the water, simultaneously looking into the empty sky, where there was no cloud or fog.
Almost instantly, Mr. A became transparent and disappeared, leaving only Sherlock Moriarty staring in astonishment.
"...Rescue from the Church of the Night?" Iconseth frowned slightly. "Unfortunately, he didn't mention in his letter what appeared at that time, so we have no way to guess. Does he want to sell this secret for a good price, or is he simply under influence and has lost the related memories? Also, his escape experience in this underground ruins doesn't show any clues, as if it was hidden along with the relevant hints..."
He quickly analyzed this in a procedural manner, then, with relatively light psychological burden, positioned the equal treatment as an answer rather than an adventure.
Arrodes doesn't seem to be in a mischievous mood today; can I make full use of this? Iconseth comforted himself, as he saw bloody words forming on the mirror surface.
His heart skipped a beat, and he had a bad premonition that Arrodes had adjusted and restored its "state".
The blood-drawn words wriggled and quickly formed a question:
"You give your all, try to please, but end up only being discarded. Who is the object?"
Buzz, Iconseth's face first lost color, then flushed red.
This question not only pierced the hidden wound deep in his heart but also left him at a loss.
If they say who he is, before tonight, his reputation would be ruined... I have become a "legend" in some sense... Iconseth swallowed hard and said painfully:
"I choose punishment."
A lightning bolt immediately struck, but unlike before, it was not silver but tinged with green.
It hit Iconseth directly on the top of his head, causing his hair to stand on end and reflect the color of the lightning.
He shook violently like a dice, as if injected with a hallucinogenic drug.
Archbishop Horamik sighed, closed his eyes, and muttered to himself:
"A 'Grade 0' sealed artifact?"
When Iconseth recovered, he looked around and said:
"There is one more question: where did the key that Sherlock Moriarty used to destroy the descent ritual come from?
"Who among you will use '2-111'?"
The "Mechanical Heart" deacons and captains present looked at each other, and for a moment, no one responded.
...
The sound of water, splashing against the cabin, as if this was the only sound in the world. The sea at night was both noisy and quiet.
Klein suddenly woke up, opened his eyes, and saw the wooden ceiling draped in a red lunar veil.
His spiritual intuition told him that something was happening outside.
Who's having a rendezvous? He listened carefully and vaguely caught some unnatural sounds.
Klein thought for a moment, turned over, sat up, put on his gloves, and draped his coat.
With his eyes deepening, he took out a gold coin, tossed it up, and quickly performed a divination.
After receiving an omen of no danger, he took out the revolver he had been holding under his pillow and put it in his pocket.
After making the necessary preparations, Klein opened the door, left the room, and followed the sounds to the upper deck.
At this time, on the sea away from industrial pollution, the crimson moon hung quietly, mysterious and dreamy.
Carefully bypassing several patrolling sailors, Klein arrived at the area where there was activity and smelled a faint trace of blood.
Using the moonlight, he looked and saw the former adventurer Clevis crouching by the railing, setting something up.
In the shadow of the cabin more than ten meters away from this gentleman, three people were hiding: one was Clevis's partner, the female bodyguard in a black coat, and the rest were their employer's children, a girl of fourteen or fifteen and a young gentleman under ten.
These two minors were wearing thick bathrobes and woolen coats, clearly having come out very hastily.
In the cold night wind, they were shivering but still energetically crouching there, watching Clevis with bright eyes.
A game of hide and seek? Klein joked to himself.
He deliberately made his footsteps heavier, drawing the attention of Clevis and the others.