Chapter 298 Three Bottles of Potion
If conditions allowed, Angel would like to try to let a beam of light shuttle back and forth between the two mirrors to see what effect it would produce. Unfortunately, there was only the soft but unfocused light of the gas lamp in the room, which made her experimental plan abort.
"Perhaps with this experiment, I can get a certificate of admission to Backlund University."
She smiled self-deprecatingly, watching the scene in the mirror slowly disappear. The applied potions also evaporated, leaving behind a smooth mirror surface reflecting the normal shadow of the room.
Thinking of college, Angel thought of Lily Granger and the threatening letters she had received. Unfortunately, the detectives had been waiting for less than 24 hours and would probably not gain anything. It would be useless for her to rush over.
After calming down, she took the three bottles of communication potion and the "Book of Secrets" that she had copied in advance, took a hired carriage to Minsk Street in the Cherwood District, and rang the doorbell of the two-story house at No. 15.
Today, she imitated Ms. Lola and wore a long skirt that dropped to her ankles, a thick shawl, and a soft hat with fine mesh draped over her head, trying to get used to the complicated style popular in Backlund.
As soon as she went out, she found that many women on the street were dressed like this. Coupled with the effect of the "Frenzy Ring", she could instantly blend into the crowd, even better than a hooded cloak.
Ding-ling-ling——
Not long after the crisp bell rang, the door was opened. Sherlock Moriarty, who was wearing a gray sweater, was blown by the cold wind outside the door, and the words of welcome were swallowed back into his stomach.
Having been here many times, and since the other party was a follower of the Fool, Angel naturally felt a sense of closeness to him, so he didn't hesitate and sat down on the single sofa by the window.
Taking off the soft hat and putting it aside, Angel returned the "Book of Secrets" to the detective who had already entered deep winter and wore a shirt over a sweater indoors. The latter went upstairs to put it away, then returned to the living room, added a few pieces of charcoal to the fireplace, and sat down opposite Angel.
"You today..."
"That master key..."
The two of them spoke at the same time, then stopped at the same time, waiting for the other to speak first. A brief silence fell in the corner of the room.
"Well, I tried divination with the Master Key," Sherlock finally spoke first. He fished the brass key from his pocket and placed it on the table. "It does contain a curse far higher than its own sequence. It might be the mumbling of a higher-sequence being. Combined with what you described about the owner of the notebook before his death, I believe this is a cry from an ancient member of Abraham's family to his descendants."
"What follows is all my speculation, and may not be correct. His cry will take effect on those descendants of Abraham who become Beyonders, causing their spiritual instability. This effect is strongest during a full moon, especially a blood moon, and can easily cause the Abrahams to lose control or even die."
Angel nodded in understanding. "So the man who was going to make the Abraham family great again took the potion on a full moon night, causing him to lose control and die instantly?"
"That should be the case. This is my analysis based on the divination results, the contents of the notes, and your description. I can't guarantee it's correct."
Although he said this, Sherlock looked confident and obviously believed in the results of his analysis.
This matched Angel's original analysis, but she hadn't figured out the source of the curse on the master key. She hadn't expected this descendant of Abraham to be killed by some strange whispering of his ancestor. This was simply...
"He's simply trying to wipe out his Abraham family... Is he a traitor to this family, or does he harbor some kind of long-standing hatred towards all Abrahams? That's why he keeps issuing curses, making it almost impossible for the Beyonders of the Abraham family to survive for long periods of time?"
Angel asked, frowning.
"Hatred? No, those horrifying words he uttered were actually just cries for help. He might have been asking for help from his descendants, but the difference in status between them was so great that those cries became deadly to his descendants, killing them instead..."
The corners of Sherlock's mouth twitched as if he was about to smile, but he gave up in the end.
"Also, it's best not to carry this 'Master Key' with you on full moon nights. You can seal it with a spiritual wall or a container that can isolate spiritual energy. It's best to sell it and get rid of it once and for all."
"A spiritual wall? If it's sealed in the room, how can I get out of it?"
Angel asked back, turning her gaze to the brass key on the table as if she were looking at a time bomb - after listening to Sherlock's analysis of the curse, she no longer wanted to use this magical item.
"You can use a spiritual wall to seal the small container, just like you would an altar, except you're outside, not inside... Wait, this method is described in the Book of Secrets. Haven't you already read it?"
I just copied it and haven't had time to read the rest...
Angel blushed slightly. She took the brass key and sealed a bullet box in front of Sherlock with a simplified ritual, then placed the brass key inside. Although this would be a little more troublesome to use, it would at least avoid the negative effects of this magical item.
After solving this biggest problem, Angel's frustration at the shattered dream of becoming a "master of the occult" was alleviated a lot. The two continued to share some recent experiences and expressed their concerns about the name of "The Fool" being known to outsiders. Seeing that time was almost up, Angel took out the bottle with the most communication potions out of the three and handed it to Sherlock.
"What is this? It looks like a concentrated healing potion..."
Sherlock asked in confusion, holding the bottle up to the light.
"A medicine used for communication, not the kind you take orally, but..."
Angel told Sherlock how to use the potion.
"I'll carry a mirror coated with the potion with me so you can contact me at any time, but it's best to use it sparingly. The materials aren't expensive, but after all, well, it's made of my blood."
After hesitating for a while, Angel finally told the other party the ingredients of the potion, avoiding his meaningless waste.
Sherlock took the vial and carefully studied the viscous liquid inside, as if studying a magical item. Then he carefully put it in his pocket and asked, "Is it only one-way communication? For example, I also paint a mirror in advance, and then you can contact me at any time... ahem?"
"Unfortunately, unless you have two sets of potions, it's best to keep only one mirror active at all times. Otherwise, if someone else applies the potion and comes looking for me, it's likely to connect to your mirror."
"Others? Who?"
Sherlock raised his eyebrows, his brown eyes revealing undisguised doubt.
Angel pulled out two more bottles, shook them in front of him, and replied, "Yes, I'm going to give these two bottles away later. One is to a friend, uh, a female friend, and the other is to a Beyonder who works under me."
She didn't know if it was an illusion, but she felt Sherlock's body, which had just been sitting upright, relax.
"Well, that's good... No, I mean, I'm planning to go out for a while, to St. George's District. I invested in a new invention, and it's already reached a critical juncture. I might be able to make a lot of money. I have to go and take a look..."
He spoke incoherently and stood up first.
Angel was about to leave, so he nodded and stood up. However, he became interested in the new invention Sherlock mentioned and asked curiously:
"A new invention? Is it your own idea?"
"No, I'm only an investor, but I did offer some small suggestions. Most of them were ideas from Mr. Leppard himself, as well as from Emperor Russell..." Sherlock said with a frustrated tone, "A two-wheeled, foot-powered, single-person vehicle. I'm going to call it a bicycle."
It sounds like a bicycle, but Emperor Roselle had indeed "invented" it, or at least left behind some manuscripts...
Angel felt the same way as Sherlock felt frustrated, and many of her novel ideas were suppressed by this time traveler from two hundred years ago. She only regretted that she had not come to this world three hundred years earlier to make achievements.
Fortunately, according to Sherlock, he and Leppard are improving Russell's preliminary design, and perhaps they will soon be able to produce a product that strikes a balance between convenience and price. Either they produce it themselves or sell the patent, both will bring in a lot of money.
After expressing her congratulations to him in advance, Angel and Sherlock left No. 15 Minsk Street one after another. She still had to deliver two more bottles of communication potion during the day, and time was running out.
…
After handing the potion to "Justice" Audrey at Earl Hall's villa in Queens, Angel immediately traveled to the East District. The biggest impact of this journey across Backlund was that two more "unlucky" drivers needed to repair their axles or wheels. Although Angel gave them corresponding compensation, he still felt a little guilty.
"Compared to my 'Thirst for Blood', the negative effects of this 'Good Luck' revolver are far too strong. Could it be that the Beyonder characteristic it uses, that the Disaster Priest of the 'Monster' path, actually has the ability to attract disasters and bring harm to others nearby?"
Holding his wallet that was bleeding again, Angel came to Sherman's house in frustration. It was already dusk and the lights on the second floor where Sherman lived were not on. However, the other party was an assassin and could be seen without turning on the lights, so Angel still went up and knocked on the door. After a while, he found that the new assassin was indeed not at home.
After a simple divination, Angel quickly found Sherman in a nearby bar. He was talking to another teenager who looked underage at the bar. The teenager looked a bit like a woman from behind, with a thin build and gentle movements. At first glance, Angel didn't even recognize him until he walked around to the other side and saw the other person's neutral face.
Seeing Angel coming, he hurriedly said a few words to the boy, walked out of the bar quickly, and under the guidance of the former, walked through the street full of vagrants and entered an alley opposite.
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