The Evil God of Hogwarts

After a moment of silence, the store owner saw that Xing Ze had no intention of leaving, so he said angrily: "We don't like foreigners here."

"Really?" Xing Ze disagreed, "But since this is a university, there should be many scholars and guests from other places, right?"

"The university is the university, and this is this." The shop owner replied firmly, "This street is the oldest neighborhood in Brichester. It is different from other places in the city."

"How interesting. So I'm not even allowed to finish a Coke here? You guys are so hospitable."

The shop owner heard Xing Ze's cynicism. He didn't get angry. He just smiled coldly and said, "I know you foreigners all too well..."

However, his words were interrupted by Xing Ze, "I think you don't know. If this place doesn't welcome outsiders, then can you explain to me what happened to the trucks coming here?"

"truck?"

Looking at the confused boss, Xing Ze explained again: "Yes, the truck. Do you know that house on this street? No. 290, close to the cemetery. It looks like no one has lived in it for a long time."

"I will not discuss the affairs of the people here with a stranger."

"Oh, you are very vigilant." Xing Ze took a sip of Coke, "You don't discuss the foreigners living here with me, a foreigner. This is very contradictory, isn't it?"

"Are you kidding? The guy who lives there..." The shop owner suddenly realized something. He hurriedly closed his mouth, and finally there was some anger on his face.

Just a little bit. Xing Ze thought to himself, but he did not give up, but continued to ask: "Don't you think it's strange? There are always trucks parked near that house recently, big and small, am I right?"

"I don't know, go and ask somewhere else. Don't stay any longer, there's nothing you want here."

Xing Ze drank the last bit of Coke and left the glass bottle on the counter. It seemed that the store owner would not reveal anything useful anymore. He was considering whether to show his police ID to get the other party to cooperate.

But even the police cannot force a person to say something he does not want to say unless he is suspected. When he thought of this, Xing Ze gave up the idea. In fact, he didn't want to see that after revealing his identity, everyone on the street knew that there was a policeman from out of town asking questions.

He walked out of the convenience store, walked back for a while, and then ducked into the second-hand bookstore. The store was filled with the smell of moldy book pages, and there was also a faint smell of leather, probably from the leather-bound books stacked on the shelves.

The boss is a gentle man wearing glasses. He looks about fifty years old, but Xing Ze knows that he is actually much older than he looks.

When Xing Ze came in, he was looking down at a thick and spacious book. Xing Ze didn't recognize the text on it. It should be some kind of ancient text.

"If you want something, just read it. Take your time and don't rush. But please be careful, some books are very historical."

"If that's the case." Xing Ze stopped in front of a bookshelf, browsing the books on it aimlessly, "Are these books stored a little too casually?"

"Are you very knowledgeable about books?" The bookstore owner raised his head, looked at Xing Ze for a moment, and then lowered his head again, "It's funny, there are very few outsiders in this neighborhood. Let alone Orientals."

"If you put it this way, your business is obviously not doing well."

"I have a supply agreement with the university, and some of the teaching materials are provided by me, so my life is pretty good. The books in the store are all sold to people who are destined."

Xing Ze smiled, looked away from the bookshelf, and introduced himself: "Richard Lee."

"Riley." The bookstore owner closed the heavy book and replied, "Are you here for a trip? Or for school?"

"Travel. Come and collect some local customs."

"Customs and customs? Oh, then you have come to the right place. Brichester is full of legends."

"I've heard about it, but the locals don't seem that warm and welcoming."

"Haha, don't expect the locals to give you a good look. Everyone here is like this, frowning and stern, as if they have something big on their mind. Can you believe it? Even the local broadcaster has this kind of behavior. I I think it’s caused by the lack of transportation.”

Xing Ze spread his hands, "Who knows? I just went to the convenience store to buy a Coke, but the boss didn't want me to stay in the store. You wouldn't do this, right?"

"Do I look like a local to you?" Riley asked, taking off his glasses and smoothing his thick but gray hair.

"Of course not. The locals don't talk as much as you do."

"Hahaha." Riley laughed, "You are very interesting, a guest from afar. Unfortunately, I can't buy you a drink, I am still working, and the nearest bar will not welcome you."

Hearing this, Xing Ze suddenly realized something, and he asked: "Then they welcome you?"

“It’s not exactly welcoming, but it’s not too exclusive.”

Having said this, Riley rubbed his clean chin and thought about it. "Well -" he spoke again, "People here seem to have a special ability to tell whether you are a local at a glance. However, the bars near the university are all owned by outsiders, you can go there."

"I'd go if I had the chance. But right now I'm more interested in the house."

"House?" Riley didn't understand.

"No. 290, Avenue de Reims, do you know who owns that house?"

Riley shook his head, "I rarely ask about the residents nearby, and even if I did, no one would tell me. You said No. 290? You may have to point it out to me before I can tell you."

Xing Ze walked to the door of the bookstore, pointed in the direction of the house and said, "That's the house with all the curtains drawn. Do you have any impressions?"

"Ah, you mean old Kimball's?"

Xing Ze was stunned for a moment. He wondered if he heard it wrong, so he asked: "What did you say? You mean the owner of that house is named Kimball?"

"Yes, but old Kimball has passed away. He was a book collector and had a lot of books..."

Xing Ze did not continue to listen to what was said after that. His brain was running rapidly and the clues were slowly gathering.

After a long while, he asked: "What is the full name of the owner of the house?"

"Why are you asking about this?" Riley noticed something was wrong with Xing Ze, and he became alert.

Xing Ze saw his doubts and had to take out his police officer ID card and hand it over, "I am investigating a case and I hope you can cooperate."

Riley took the police officer's ID card and looked at it, nodded and said, "I didn't expect you to be a police officer."

"Very surprised?"

Riley smiled awkwardly and said, "Well, it's nothing. Let me look for it for you. He has come to my place several times to buy books and there is a receipt. His full name should be on it. Please wait a moment."