Mystery: The Ancient God is Actually Me

"Courageous, three pounds a week, is anyone here?" Ian looked around for a week, bright red eyes swept across the faces of every bounty hunter he could see, revealing a faint expectation.

There were more than fifty bounty hunters crowded in the not-so cramped tavern, but no one stood up at this time, with obvious hesitation on their faces and hesitant eyes.

After all, from the perspective of the entrustment requirements alone, the content of this young man's entrustment is too similar to that of the Zigman Party, which makes people have to think about it.

For a while, the entire tavern was suddenly silent, and then the usual noise resumed, ignoring the client who offered a high salary.

The tired-looking boy's eyes gradually retracted, his lost expression was blocked by the drooping eyelashes, and the thin body in the tattered coat was even more stooped.

He hesitated for a while, then handed a few bills to the bartender on duty, pressed his felt hat, and prepared to leave.

In the past few days, he and his employer, or master, Mr. Zerrell, have been hunted and killed by the Zigman party, almost without pause, and have always been on the verge of life and death, even this commission , all rely on a Sealed Artifact to find the opportunity.

"Can I consider five pounds a week?" Just as Ian watched the bartender put his commission on the wall, and was about to leave, a mellow voice stopped him.

This voice... Ian, whose memory was touched, turned around quickly. Sherlock Moriarty's mature temperament was reflected in his bright red eyes, his hairline receded slightly, and his eyes were deep.

"This gentleman..." I was slightly surprised, and then my nerves quickly tightened. Ian, who was instinctively worried about whether it was a trap, questioned slowly. Using the blind spot created by the dislocation of his body, he silently stretched his right hand towards the worn coat. Outside the bag inside.

He had already done divination and confirmed the danger. Klein, who had increased in height, was looking down at the young man who was on guard in front of him. The corners of his mouth were slightly raised, and he said with ease:

"As an acquaintance, I think it's a fair price. We can talk about it outside. We can sit down and talk slowly."

Ian, whose fingers had already pulled the trigger on the revolver, carefully examined it several times, straightened his back, and moved the satchel forward, with a natural expression:

"No problem, I just want to thank you. How about we leave the East District. It's too messy here to talk about things."

"Okay, I happen to be a little hungry. Let's have lunch together." Klein, who followed the conversation, turned around at will, kept a distance of two meters from Ian, and walked out of the bar with a casual gait, ice blue eyes. Some discoloration in sunlight.

......

Hillston area.

Klein dressed in Sherlock Moriarty disguise and Ian dressed out of tune with the surroundings were sitting in a cafe on the side of the street. The street was dressed in all kinds of dark formal clothes, with most of the gentlemen with leather bags under their arms. It comes and goes, giving people an intuitive sense of urgency.

"Why do you think of choosing such a place? Let's talk about it first. The employer should be responsible for the cost of negotiating the employment price." Klein, who was putting his left leg on his right leg, was looking out the window on the fifth floor. The bungalow, the line of sight fell on the sign on the top of the building, a little divergent.

Hearing this, Ian, who was restrainingly nibbling on the bread, froze, the muscles on his face twitched unnaturally, and his eyes rolled up.

He suddenly felt a blockage in his throat, hurriedly picked up the milk next to him, poured it a few times, and gasped.

"This is the economic center of Loen. Even the desperate plateau people would not dare to openly act here."

"Especially recently, for some unknown reason, members of the military and intelligence agencies have suddenly increased their protection for this side. However, this can also be used in reverse to protect themselves."

"Realistically speaking, Hillston should be the safest place outside of Queens right now."

MI9 has strengthened its protection here?

I remember that they should be working together with the Nighthawks to track down the human trafficking conspiracy of the Psychology Alchemy Society and the Aurora Society...

Thinking of the last piece of information he had obtained from official channels before he left the Nighthawks, Klein did not think that within a month, MI9, a valuable human resource, would frequently change its plans, and now most of the energy should be on the population in the case of trafficking.

Generally speaking, the mobilization of MI9 is ​​directly in charge of the high-level military personnel installed by the royal family, and this operation belongs to the joint operation of the Church of the Righteous God and the military organization, and involves the advent of evil gods and the creation of large-scale terrorist incidents, etc. Conspiracy should not be arbitrarily occupied by other events.

Could it be that the human trafficking of the Psychological Alchemy Society and the Aurora Society even involved some large financial institutions in the Hillston area, and MI9, which is better at this aspect of investigation, is collecting evidence to prevent the relevant personnel from escaping?

Falling into thinking, Klein, who slowly rubbed his chin, retracted his thoughts, made a look of approval, and nodded slightly:

"It's very thoughtful. If you can agree to my request for five pounds a week, I think I can accept the commission now."

"I can't agree to your request directly. You know, I can't be the real client. Even the current meal money, I need to pay for it myself." Ian, who saw the other party's mild attitude, did not let go, but Silently wiped the jam that he accidentally rubbed on, pretending to hesitate.

This is a miserable child. No one has reimbursed him for such a dangerous job... Suddenly recalling that under the guidance of Old Neil, Klein, who had exploited various loopholes to reimburse him, trembled in his heart, and the corner of his mouth twitched. Smile more, more brilliant.

"Then I can only give up. I saw the new bounty hunter hired by the Zigman Party. She is very dangerous. I won't risk my life for money." Klein leaned back in the chair and took out a With his hands in his pockets, he moved lazily. For the first time, he picked up the coffee in front of him, endured the bitter taste, and took a sip.

"I can probably guess why you and the executioners of the Zigman Party put forward such similar conditions, and I can probably guess why you issued the task immediately after they left."

"To be honest, this is not a wise choice. With such similar requirements, most people will think of the plateau gangsters who also released the task just now, and will not choose to confront them head-on."

"Although most bounty hunters do some dirty work, they also have families, and they won't sacrifice their families' lives in vain for a seemingly high-paying commission."

"But luckily, I don't have anything worth worrying about right now, and I need money urgently, so five pounds a week is my last request."

Recalling the words he had learned, combined with his experience, Klein, who was constantly putting pressure on Ian, had a relaxed tone, giving people a sense of cynicism.

This was his sudden inspirational decision.

Because in Backlund, it is still possible to meet acquaintances who recognize him, and the magical items he uses for disguise cannot completely change his appearance, and some of his facial features are still obvious. If you add some habits in life and work , and it is not impossible to be contacted by some sensitive people to reveal the identity behind the mask.

So he planned to perfect his character design for Sherlock Moriarty again, so that this identity, who inherited the name of detective and crime master, deviates from Klein's own character and makes a difference.

Compared with "Klein Moriarty", who is a little smart, but is still very kind in general, "Sherlock Moriarty" has fewer restraints and can do whatever he wants... The smile is more and more The splendid Klein silently turned on his spiritual vision, and while observing the emotional changes of the big boy opposite, he planned to continue to exert pressure.

"I can pay you five pounds a day." Just when Klein was about to speak, a man with tawny hair who was sitting farther away from Ian with his whole body wrapped in spirituality slowly got up and said in a low voice, "Extraordinary. worth the price.”

He turned his neck slightly, rubbed his chin towards Ian, motioned him to move away, and then sat opposite Klein.

"Are you a Beyonder of the 'Death God' pathway?"

"grim Reaper"? With the ability of "Clown", Klein, who did not allow himself to make extra expressions, nodded silently, which was regarded as acquiescing to the other party's judgment.

At the same time, his vision swept away in the state of spiritual vision, and as expected, in the shadow of the other party, he saw a relatively weak spirit with a low sense of existence.

However, this kind of clumsy operation should not be an Extraordinary of the "Death God" pathway. It is probably because he has a Sealed Artifact of the "Psychic" level on his body... Klein's inspiration moved slightly, and he remembered the inside of the left pocket of his coat. The Azik copper whistle quietly changed his sitting position, no longer deliberately restraining his spirituality, but trying to cover up the aura of this item through his own overflowing spirituality.

Suddenly, he saw the man opposite him nodded in approval, and leaned back.

"The response is very quick. We still have to hide our aura outside, especially in front of those annoying official Beyonders."

"My name is Zeriel, I'm a detective, and I'm investigating a document stolen by the Zigman Party."

"The weekly salary is five pounds a day. Let's sign an agreement and settle it a week from now, how about it?"

Having said that, Detective Zeriel took out a piece of paper with a gentle aura from the inside of his coat, wrote roughly the contents of the employment with a pen, placed it lightly on the table, and moved it to Klein.

"This is a contract made by a 'Notary', and it has little binding force, but I think it should still be very deterrent to the Beyonders of the 'Death God' pathway."

"This is an industry rule. After all, I can't confirm whether you are an undercover agent sent by the other side, or whether you will betray in the future. This is a safe method for both of us."

"That's true, at least I don't have to worry about no one paying me." Klein added a joke very familiarly, picked up a pen, roughly reviewed the content, and signed his name.

"Sherlock Moriarty." Detective Zeriel glanced at the unfamiliar name, and without thinking about it, he instilled his spirituality and activated this spell-like item.

This seemingly ordinary piece of paper suddenly burst into colorless flames, with golden lines on the surface, and the written words disappeared little by little, as if it was secretly connected with some kind of rule.

Klein silently observed the change of this item. From the perspective of Spirit Vision, the golden lines were connected together, and then he felt a heat flow slipping through his body, entrenched in the depths of the spiritual body.

Direct damage to the spirit body?

No wonder Detective Zeriel is so sure of the "Death God" path that the Beyonder would be afraid of breaching the contract. After all, the best way to eliminate the undead is the magic of the "Sun" domain. Can take away weaker Beyonders.

It's a pity that I'm a "clown", and I estimate that as long as my last time with the gray fog, the power of the gray fog itself will completely wash away the **** of this contract... Klein is still smiling and doesn't care. Appearance, the voice is mellow:

"Okay, starting a week now, you are my employer."

"Now I want to ask, what exactly are we going to do?"

It seems that he is still glad that the other party signed the "notarial certificate" so easily. Detective Zeriel didn't react for a while. After a moment of stunned, he made a move to Ian beside him and replied in a low voice:

"Go find a stolen document."

Stolen documents?

It seemed that he saw Klein's doubts, Detective Zeriel thought for a while, but he wasn't cheating.

"I originally planned to hire bounty hunters to confuse the public while the Zigman party lost my assistant."

"But now, we have two Beyonders, and we are not afraid of them at all, so I choose to take the opportunity to retrieve the information about the document they stole."

"There is only one Beyonder in the Zigman Party, a newly promoted Sequence Nine, and we went directly to their collaborator, the owner of the Tussock River United Industrial Company, Nikolai Babbage."

"He has information related to that document in his hand, and they have been eyeing that document for a long time."

"Can I know what document it is?" Klein ignored Zeriel's scrutinizing gaze, turned his head slightly, and said to himself, "After all, if I happen to obtain information about that document~www.wuxiamtl. com~ But because I don't know what it is about, I just ignore it and miss the mission objective, which is probably a pity."

"No, that document is very conspicuous, even if it is related information, it will have very obvious features." Zeriel rejected Klein's application, speaking quickly, "You just need to know that it is a precision instrument. It's just the relevant file, it's definitely named after you've never heard of it."

Absolutely never heard of it, precision instruments?

As a resident of the information age, "Klein Moretti" raised his left eyebrow slightly, and couldn't help being curious about the items described by his employer.

"Babbage, is this kind of name a coincidence, isn't it a difference engine?"

He didn't say a word, with an indifferent expression on his old-fashioned and mature face, he shrugged slightly.

"You are the boss, listen to you."

......................

Backlund West District, 27 Red Maple Street.

In the exquisitely decorated living room, tall Nikolai Babbage, who was dressed in dark embroidered patterns, put down the cigar in his hand, and pushed back the identification documents and other documents on the table to the opposite side, revealing in his voice. visibly tired.

"Mr. Evans, in view of your family's good reputation, I choose to believe in your ability."

"I hope you can help me stop the harassment of those villains and keep those savage plateau people away from my family. As long as I can do this, I can pay a weekly commission of 800 pounds."

Sitting on the opposite sofa, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and having a strong bookish air, Dunn immediately sat upright, looked into old Babbage's turbid eyes, his eyes were firm, and solemnly said:

"I will live up to the price you offered, thank you for your trust in me."