Mystery: The Ancient God is Actually Me

At noon in Backlund, the fog was not as thick as in the morning, but the pungent choking smell still lingered on the empty streets.

After inquiring about the specific address in the bar, and finally being forced to settle lunch there, Klein and Mike were strolling down the street not far from the dock union.

This is one of the most concentrated areas of labor in the Eastside. A large number of dock workers will spend all day here to earn a meager salary, while the remaining unemployed workers and homeless people will also wait on the edge of the nearby road, waiting A foreman was chosen to select the coolies to act as porters.

"If the **** bartender hadn't lied just now, old Verdu should live near here." Mike, whose belly seemed a little bloated, said fiercely.

Originally, he planned to leave the bar after asking the general clues, but he didn't expect that the bartender's mouth was quite difficult to pry. amount of lunch.

I still hugged at least a sule of lunch... Klein, who followed behind Mike, didn't cater to him. Instead, he touched his stomach with satisfaction, feeling a burst of warmth.

Considering the possible gangster power behind the bar, Mike and Klein had no intention of doing anything even if they knew that the other party was going to force-sell them.

Fortunately, after paying honestly, the bartender really gave the specific address of Old Verdu, which is on the street opposite the dock union.

This is a small brick building with the outer wall peeled off and it looks crooked. Although it has three floors, there are not many residents in terms of the clutter of the corridor.

Following behind Mike, he slowly climbed the stairs. Klein, who said nothing, carefully looked at the various doors of the room in the stairs, and his eyes gradually became serious.

The wooden doors of each room here do not have the obvious dust accumulation of empty houses. On the contrary, from the perspective of the door axis, these doors are often used.

But will the residents of the East District really not occupy any open space in the corridor? I remember that even in the Lower Street of Tingen, various low-cost apartments would have additional encroachment on the corridor vacant space...

In doubt, Klein subconsciously turned on his spiritual vision, and frowned when he saw the empty gloom in front of him.

The walls here are thicker than he imagined, and ordinary spiritual vision alone is not enough to see the situation behind the door.

Klein restrained his mind, his spirituality gradually spread, and the delicate spirituality slid all the way to his right hand.

In the silence, the "substitute" disguised as an ordinary glove quietly opened, and the illusory dark lines separated from the air and gradually became clear.

This is the perspective of the "spiritual body thread" that can only be mastered by a "puppet master"!

With the help of the vision established by the "substitute", Klein's vision of the entire small three-story building that was not too tall was almost completely brought into Klein's vision. On the top floor here, the non-load-bearing wall was opened up. In a relatively spacious room, the lines of the two spiritual bodies almost overlapped, and the corresponding bodies were almost glued together.

Klein, who was silently observing the situation, suddenly frowned, and immediately closed the perspective of the spiritual body line, and there was a tinge of livid on his face.

The good news is that he found the old Verdu, and the bad news is that he doesn't know how he will be treated when Mike knocks on that door for a while.

It is easy to be hated for disturbing other people's good deeds.

Sure enough, Mike walked up to the third floor according to the guidance of the note in his hand. After a while of recognition, he knocked on the closed door of the room.

"what!"

Suddenly blocked by layers of walls, a slightly weak scream rang out, followed by an inaudible scolding, which scared Mike to a halt, and subconsciously looked at Klein behind him .

Don't look at me... Klein, who had probably guessed what was going on in the room, resisted the urge to look away, controlled his expression, and tried his best to appear innocent.

After about five minutes, the door of the room, which was no longer audible, finally opened, and a man with a big beard, who looked to be in his forties, with a sturdy body, dark skin, and messy clothes, opened the room. door, with a gloomy face.

Mike, who has seen a lot of them, was not frightened, but he adjusted his position and moved back a little quietly, and then imitated the way of communication in the East District and said:

"Are you old Verdu?"

"I was introduced by Fitch from the Boomerang Bar."

Fitch is the name of the bartender just now.

Verdu's cheeks, who were forcibly interrupted, bulged, and a hint of dark red appeared on his livid face, which made his already dark skin even darker.

With his eyes wide open, he stared at Mike who was half a head lower than him for a long time, and then looked at Klein, who was standing behind him with calm eyes and a mature temperament, and then he slowly suppressed his anger and scolded inwardly before he murmured. said:

"It's me, and I knew that Fitch wouldn't let me idle."

His voice was like being stuffed in a jug, and there was gas in the urn.

"Tell me, what's the matter with you?"

"Hey, I want to know about the business." Seeing the drama, Mike's face quickly put on an expression that he understood, and lowered his voice.

Having calmed down, Verdu, whose blood returned to his brain, looked at Mike standing at the door with strange eyes, and had no intention of letting him in at all.

Not to mention that it is noon now, his business has not opened at all, and the man in front of him doesn't look like he wants to "order food".

"Heh." He sneered, his tense movements gradually loosened, and his sturdy arms took out cigarettes and matches familiarly from his trouser pockets.

As a little spark passed by, the choking smell belonging to tobacco leaves slowly dissipated, Verdu took a deep breath with satisfaction, and said to Mike with a smile:

"You shouldn't be looking for a street girl, right?"

While speaking, his gaze dimly glanced at Klein, who was standing in the corridor, watching everywhere.

His former gang career told him that the man standing behind the suspected reporter was the thug who might be a real threat.

Mike obviously didn't expect that he would be exposed so quickly, but he was just stunned for a moment, then quickly reacted and said obediently:

"Yes, but I'm also a customer."

Verdu, who was in a good mood today, didn't seem to care much. With his free right hand, he took out his trousers that were a little crooked, and asked casually:

"Are you looking for someone to interview, or do you want me to introduce someone for you?"

Mike, who was ready to pay to solve the problem, was suddenly stunned, the expression on his face solidified a little, and he looked at the vulgar pimp in front of him in disbelief.

He actually saw through his intentions directly, and even behaved very sparsely, as if he had done it many times?

It seems that he felt Mike's surprise. Verdu, who was smoking a cigarette, shrugged his shoulders in a non-serious manner, tidying up the messy clothes on his body with both hands, with a cigarette holder in his mouth, and said vaguely:

"It's not uncommon, since the **** Ripper case happened seven times, there have been reporters trying to interview us. Since it's all money, why not?"

"Anyway, I believe that you will not be willing to offend most of the gangster forces in the Eastern District. You will keep it a secret, right?"

Speaking, leaning on the door frame, the very lazy Verdu suddenly glanced at Mike and Klein, his tone was sparse and ordinary.

Feeling the full threat of the other party, Mike smiled dryly, and immediately asked for the specific price and handed it to the other party.

But even so, Verdu didn't even plan to let them in, he just put out the cigarette at the door and recalled it carefully.

"You want to ask Ai Wen, the news is so fast, it turns out that the unfortunate person whose internal organs were dug out in the newspaper was her."

According to the information about the deceased given by Mike, Verdu gave the real name of the deceased without much effort, and filled in a lot of information that the newspapers could not get.

"Heh, she was originally from here. She looks good, and I didn't make her feel bad, but in the first two weeks, she told me to quit after taking a job with the dock union opposite."

"Oh, I suspect that the newly added recorder from the dock union said something to her. This kind of woman always likes to think."

"I really didn't expect that she would die so soon. It's a pity." In the end, Verdu sighed with emotion, but the corners of his mouth were raised.

Mike, who was standing at the door, instinctively frowned, subconsciously recalling the wooden doors he saw just now, and his mood was even darker.

But in order to make the investigation smooth, he immediately eased his brows, and asked in a slightly curious tone:

"Is that all? Are there any more violent revelations?"

During the conversation, he even used the usual phrases that the third-rate reporters of the ordinary tabloid newspapers would use.

Verdu, who was leaning against the door frame, smiled and said nothing, but with a sarcastic smile on his face, he said nothing.

Mike, with one hand in his pocket, clenched his fist subconsciously, was silent for two seconds, and then calmly counted the price of "one time" that Verdu said and handed it to him.

Weighing the weight in his hand, Verdu nodded with satisfaction, and continued to say in a less serious tone:

"I don't know too much about the rest. After all, there are so many people. Even if she looks good, all I care about is her face."

Looking at Mike's gradually turning purple face, Verdu smiled wickedly, and turned the conversation:

"But I can tell you that the last customer she picked up before, Lot from the dock union opposite, the new recorder, should be called this word. You can ask and you will definitely find it."

Mike, who was silenced by Verdu's tall shadow, nodded stiffly, while behind him, Klein subconsciously looked in the direction of the union.

That Miss Aiwen should only be a low-sequence Beyonder. After all, apart from the "Witch of Pleasure", no Beyonder needs to use this method to play, let alone lead such a life.

If she really only recently became a Beyonder, then the source of her potion, or the opportunity to obtain the potion...

The sight cast by Sherlock Moriarty's icy blue eyes passed through the round hole-shaped window that was not blocked by glass in the corridor, and cast it towards the dwarf house where the Docks Union was looming across, and his eyes narrowed a little.

(https://)

Please remember this book's first domain name: . Mobile version reading website: