Klein didn't touch Zreal's body, and just backed out of the fork in the road.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Suddenly, there was a sound in the distance, and there was a constant noise in the empty and deserted sewer.

Klein listened attentively for a few seconds, then decisively retreated toward the exit along the dirty cement road on both sides of the sewage river.

For him, there is no need to take risks if it does not involve himself.

After climbing out of the sewer, Klein closed the iron cover again and dealt with the surrounding area briefly before returning to the one-bedroom apartment he rented in the East District, changing his clothes and removing his disguise.

Then he put on his gold-rimmed glasses, walked to another street, took a cab, and arrived in Cherwood in the quiet and cold of three in the morning, but not Minsk Street.

After that, Klein made another long detour and confirmed that no one was following him before returning home. He slept until daybreak when the doorbell began to ring.

He sat up suddenly, put on his shirt, buttoned his vest, walked quickly downstairs and opened the door.

Prior to this, the premonition ability of the "Joker" sequence had already allowed him to naturally outline the image of the visitor in his mind:

An old coat that didn't fit him well, a round brown hat, a tattered shoulder bag, bright red eyes, a handsome face, and a calm temperament. This was Ian, the big boy who came to entrust the task yesterday.

"Good morning, Detective Moriarty." Ian greeted him, looked around and said, "Did you get anything? Well, I just asked while passing by."

Klein nodded solemnly:

"have."

"Ian seemed startled and couldn't speak for a long time.

After a while, he stammered and asked in astonishment:

"Have you confirmed Mr. Zreal's condition?"

“Yes.” Klein paused and said seriously, “I found Zreal’s body.”

"Corpse," Ian's pupils shrank and he repeated in a low voice.

He was not obviously surprised and seemed to have anticipated the worst possible outcome.

Klein watched quietly without interrupting.

"Huh," Ian exhaled, looked around vigilantly and said, "Your efficiency is amazing. Can you take me to see Mr. Zreal's body?"

"No problem. In fact, I'm planning to do that." Klein thought for a moment and said, "I hope you don't mention me when you call the police. Just say you found it yourself. I think you know how to make up an excuse."

Ian was not surprised at all. He knew very well that not every detective liked dealing with the police. In fact, except for the famous detectives who often provided consulting advice and assistance to the police department, everyone else was discriminated against by the police, excluded by them, and even blackmailed.

This is the current situation of the Kingdom of Loen.

"Okay." Ian agreed readily.

Considering that he would be entering the sewer, Klein changed into ordinary working-class clothes, put on a deerstalker hat, and took a lantern.

The two took a public carriage to the East District, and walked for half an hour under the gaze of some numb or malicious eyes to the remote sewer entrance.

“How did you find it?” Ian asked in surprise and curiosity as he watched Klein remove the lid and climb down.

Klein looked down and answered casually:

"Skilled training, which includes many techniques of reasoning, investigation, tracking and questioning."

Ian followed him into the sewer and nodded without any disgust:

"You seem to have received very professional training."

Klein did not answer directly. He carried the lantern that had already been lit and led Ian to a fork in the road, arriving at the gloomy corner.

As soon as he approached, his eyes narrowed slightly, because Zreal's body was much more mutilated than last night, missing an arm and half of his ribs.

This is not something a mouse can do, Klein muttered to himself without reminding Ian.

With the help of the lantern light, Ian could see the body clearly.

He suddenly squatted down and began to vomit, gradually vomiting yellow-green bile. Klein took out the prepared "Krag's Oil", unscrewed the cork, bent down and put the end to Ian's nose.

Ian suddenly came to his senses and calmed down.

Ten seconds later, he whispered weakly:

"Thanks"

He stood up slowly and carefully examined the mutilated body several times:

"I can confirm that he is Detective Zreal."

“I’m sorry,” Klein responded politely. “I suggest you call the police.”

"Yeah." Ian nodded imperceptibly and followed the other party back to the ground.

At this time, Klein clapped his hands:

"My mission ends here. What to do next is up to you."

Ian was silent for a few seconds and said:

"I still owe you three things, and you can tell me now."

"Actually, I've only thought of one thing for now," Klein answered frankly, "I want to know where I can get a gun and bullets without requiring a full weapons license."

Ian said almost without thinking:

"Backlund Bridge area, Iron Gate Street, 'Brave Bar', look for Kaspars Kanlinin and say that the 'old man' introduced it to you."

“Okay, let’s talk about the remaining two things later. I have a feeling that we will meet again.” Klein nodded casually.

Ian looked at him, remained silent and said nothing.

The two separated and walked towards different streets in the East District, and the remote place returned to silence again.

After walking for a while, Klein suddenly turned around and returned the same way. Then he hid in a hidden corner and peeked at the entrance to the sewer.

After waiting for two or three minutes, he saw Ian return quietly, looking around vigilantly.

Klein retracted his gaze in time, leaned his back against the wall, and listened to the noise.

He heard the scraping sound of the iron cover being removed and heard someone climbing down.

Cautiously poking his head out, Klein discovered that Ian had re-entered the sewer.

Is there a clue or an item hidden on Zreal's body? This matter is indeed very complicated. He nodded thoughtfully.

Having satisfied his curiosity, Klein did not stay any longer and truly left, planning to go find Kaspas Kanlinin again in two days.

It was tea time at Viscount Glint's home in the Queen's Borough.

The door of the room was tightly closed, completely separating the four people inside from the guests participating in the salon from outside.

"Xiu, Fors, this is the compensation you deserve." Audrey, wearing a light yellow dress decorated with many laces, pushed a bulging envelope to the two ladies across the table.

Xio wanted to say something polite, but her hand had already grabbed the envelope and felt the weight of the money.

She had no choice but to say sincerely:

"Thank you for your generosity, Miss Audrey. Your integrity makes you even more beautiful."

As she spoke, she had untied the string around the envelope and saw the banknotes inside.

It was a uniform gray-background black-lined banknote. It was thick and exuded a special scent of ink, a scent that was refreshing and soothing.

"10 pounds." Xio took out a bill and confirmed the denomination. Fors, who seemed lazy and didn't care about money, came over at some point.

At least, Hut can observe the thickness and guess how many there are in total.

She couldn't help but look at Fors, and saw the surprise in each other's eyes:

This is obviously a lot more reward than they imagined!

Audrey smiled and said:

"It's 800 pounds in total. You can decide how to divide it up."

"That incident put you in danger, and I'm sorry for that."

800 pounds No, no need to apologize. If you do it again, even if I knew the possible consequences, I would accept the commission. Even if it is just divided equally, plus my savings, it will be enough to buy the formula of the "Sheriff" potion. Hugh, who was over 1.5 meters tall, stared blankly at the banknotes in the envelope, wishing he could take them all out and count them repeatedly.

She believed that the generous and beautiful Miss Audrey would not be short of money, but what if the other party counted wrong?

Everyone makes mistakes! Xio raised his right hand, paused for a few seconds, and then put it down silently.

Fors couldn't help but raise the corner of his mouth, and said with emotion:

"This is more than the total royalties I have received for Stormwind Heights so far."

Should I praise Miss Audrey or ridicule myself as a writer's poverty? She added silently.

Viscount Glint, who was sitting on the sofa, was also a little envious, but not envious of Hugh and Fors. As a viscount with a relatively good financial situation, 800 pounds was not a large sum.

What he envied was that Audrey was generous and had no burden at all.

"Ahem." Viscount Greylint cleared his throat. "If you can get the recipe of the 'pharmacist', I will give you a handsome reward."

"We'll try our best!" Xio answered without hesitation, and then she looked at Audrey and said, "I'll get a clue soon about the 'audience' potion you want."

Xiu, I'm already Sequence 8, which is better than you. Audrey smiled reservedly:

“I’m looking forward to it.”

After finishing their business, the four of them chatted about various rumors in the extraordinary circle, and under Audrey's demonstration, they each looked for the pictures they wanted to read.

Suddenly, Xio's eyes lit up as he saw two hard cover pictures:

The history of the nobility and heraldry of the Kingdom of Loen.

At the same time, Fors also found a book that interested him:

Geography of Feysac Empire People and Traveling Around the Northern Continent.

"Respected Viscount Glint, may I borrow these two books? I will return them soon." Xio looked at the owner of the room pleadingly.

Grellint nodded indifferently and said:

"No problem."

After hearing his answer, Fors quickly made his request and was also granted.

Audrey, who witnessed all this, curled her lips slightly and looked aside modestly, pretending to look for something.

As a qualified and promoted "audience", after many contacts, she had accurately grasped Xio and Fors' preferences in certain aspects, and made arrangements in advance without anyone noticing.

Making the people being guided feel that it is their own will is a reflection of the audience's ability.

In the evening, Xiu curled up on the sofa, facing the fireplace, reading the history of the nobility of the Kingdom of Loen by the gas lamp, while Fors went to attend a gathering of the writers' circle.

After looking at it for a while, Xio suddenly felt that the cardboard cover was a little strange, so he carefully checked it, found the interlayer, and took out an old piece of paper.

The front of the paper was covered with the special symbols created by Emperor Roselle, and on the back was written a passage of ancient Hermetic text.

"Viscount Greylint's ancestors deciphered some of Emperor Roselle's special symbols?" Xio suddenly became excited.

She struggled to decipher the ancient Hermetic text and silently said:

"A fool who does not belong to this age;"

"The mysterious master above the gray fog;"

"The yellow and black king who controls good luck."