Chapter 98 98

Chapter 98 98


Clayton did not know anything about the forest until now, a fact that slightly surprised him.

"Is it still like that now?"

"Generally speaking, it shouldn't be like this now," Ackeret answered, looking at the foreman. "But if there is no one in the Gray Cap Gang’s house, this might be true."

The military was sweeping through the forest for mutated beasts, using the "iron tide" when the train entered the station to mask the sound of guns and artillery.

"Where is the exact location of that abandoned mine?" Clayton asked, having a bad premonition.

The storage environment for explosives also had requirements. This would usually be a stable environment; refined whale oil especially had such a need, because vibration might cause the whale oil to explode.

Ackeret pulled a pocket watch from his chest, checked the time, and looked up to answer: "I haven't been there, ask him. But don't think about going alone. They have more than one gang maintaining the 'secret base.' It would be simpler to handle this with the authority of the Security Department."

"I will apply to the commissioner of this parish. He will definitely be willing to help once he knows the danger of this batch of whale oil."

Clayton calculated; the Security Department building in the Saint-Alvin Parish was also about to complete the handover. Soon, he would be able to use the funds issued by the Parish Council to strike at his opponents. If there were fifteen people who knew how to use guns willing to listen to his command, he believed that in this environment where all transcendents had to maintain restraint, there was nothing he couldn't accomplish.

He looked at the foreman, who showed a sincere expression.

"Those gang members are not upright people; they never take me with them, so I don't know how to go there, but I know who often goes there." Speaking of the second half, his tone quickened, eager to add, for fear that this short pause would make Clayton give up the lenient treatment of him.

"Who is it?"

"There is a strip club nearby called the Broken-Wing Angel. Their girls are sometimes hired to perform there."

Clayton showed a strange expression, but didn't speak. This performance made the foreman even more nervous and uneasy.

"We have a person who lived in seclusion in the forest after retirement, and he lived with his dog. Is that so?" The lieutenant turned to ask Ackeret a strange question, using a relatively cryptic way.

Ackeret was also very interested in his reaction: "There is such a person. He did a lot of things for us before. Because he was a druid, long-term maritime life damaged his skin and joints, so after retirement, he applied to us for a piece of land in the forest for convalescence as a reward, but I haven't seen him for a long time. Do you know him?"

"We only met recently. He is dying and invited me to attend his funeral on Wednesday, but I still don't know his name."

"Is he dying?" Ackeret was stunned for a moment before answering: "Everyone calls him Old Marshal, but he is only in his early forties. For 'people' like us, he is still considered young."

Clayton didn't know what their relationship was like, but seeing that Marshal didn't seek the help of the Elder Council after being cursed, he was afraid that Marshal didn't think there was anyone worth asking for help there, except for that mysterious ghost.

He stared at Ackeret and spoke in a low voice, his voice only a little higher than the sound of the background loom.

"Are you sure he has retired?"

The word "retired" could not be used casually. This was a special term from Touton, born from mercenary culture. No one wanted to fight for a lifetime; that meant death for sure, so mercenaries would agree on a working limit with the mercenary group they belonged to. When the working limit was reached, if this person was still alive, he would be qualified to go home and retire, and could regularly get money from the mercenary group. After retirement, these workers and the original company had no relationship.

"I am sure." The pupils of Ackeret’s arguably huge eyeballs dilated and contracted slightly, and his thinking reaction was more agile than his superficial image: "You mean, his current situation is related to Athena Belloc."

If it weren't related to the messenger of the Holy Grail Society, Clayton didn't need to ask about the relationship between Marshal and the Elder Council’s position. He was looking forward to the Elder Council’s armed forces officially intervening in the Holy Grail Society.

"The peace between us and the Holy Grail Society involves a demonic contract, so we cannot provide help. Those who are formless judge the contract very strictly. They read minds directly, and Marshal has indeed left the Elder Council. Everyone thinks so, including himself."

"What a pity."

"Do you still need him?" Ackeret glanced at the foreman, who was waiting for them to dispose of him with a solemn face.

"No need."

Clayton answered carelessly. He was busy thinking, busy immersing himself in this joy of sudden enlightenment. Athena Belloc’s route of action so far was finally revealed. He had deduced the approximate range of activities of this lady, as well as the defensive measures left by the other party, and even the purpose of the Gray Cap Gang stealing refined whale oil had been answered in his thinking.

This was the first time Clayton had gained the absolute upper hand in this confrontation. Then he felt annoyed; killing that group of Hook Agency detectives was really a wrong move. If he had known the spider priest’s plan earlier, he might have been able to make those fighters useful to himself, at least not to work for her again—the Holy Grail Society had no intention of truly cooperating with those armed detectives. He already had evidence to prove this point. It was not much, but enough to make them retreat.

Next, as long as he asked Mary for help, and let her friends tell the location of the mine hidden by the Gray Cap Gang, everything would be over.

Bruno woke up from severe pain and saw an unfamiliar ceiling.

"I am still alive." He murmured with some exclamation and some doubts. He remembered that he had been plotted against by the dwarf before. That bastard, he had treated him well!

"Are you sure you want to say this as the first sentence when you wake up?" Someone nearby questioned this, "Then you are more useless than we thought before."

Bruno looked in the direction of the sound. A nightingale from the Kingdom Intelligence Department was sitting in a chair by the bed, holding a booklet in his hand, looking very leisurely.

He followed the trend and looked down, pulling open the blood-stained clothes. The location where he was shot on his skin curled toward the center strangely, bulging outward like a blackened hill, but it did stop the injury.

The nightingale closed the handbook with one hand and looked up at him: "A practical ranger trick, very effective for symptoms of continuous bleeding. But simple observation is just a waste of time. You cannot learn it through the appearance of the wound."

"I just think it's incredible."

Bruno made a dry voice. He was not that surprised, but he pretended to be very similar.

"I thought you had accepted this world. What did you find at Gallolin’s that made him willing to buy off your dwarf subordinates to shoot you on the street?"

The detective leaned on the head of the bed and relaxed. After pondering for a moment, a smile suddenly appeared on his face.

"Well, now that I think about it, Saunders might not have betrayed me. He was just cursed by someone, just like this." He looked at his chest.

The nightingale lowered his eyebrows: "Say it again in front of me, what is this?"

"It is a mysterious spell. Sorry, I used the wrong wording." Bruno could stretch and bend.

The blonde man who worked for the Kingdom Intelligence Department snorted: "Saving you is a violation of the nightingale’s code of conduct. You’d better make me feel it is worth it."

"Then I try to say it briefly, cough, cough, cough..." Bruno wanted to raise the volume, but there was an itching in his lungs. The bullet did not penetrate his body, but the impact hurt his internal organs. He covered his mouth until the coughing stopped, and some blood stains sprayed on his palm.

"This is just a minor injury and will be cured soon, provided you have no reservations about us."

"Gallolin kept a woman in his mansion, who perhaps mastered some mysterious power. I don't know what their relationship is. Maybe they are partners, but they are suspicious of each other. I was attacked by that group of people, maybe it has something to do with that woman."

The nightingale raised his eyebrows. He felt surprised for the first time: "You shouldn't have been to Gallolin’s house. Where did you know this?"

To ensure safety, they kept secret surveillance on this informant for a period of time. It could be determined that all of Bruno’s previous communications with Gallolin were passed indirectly through servants. People with Gallolin’s status would never let people of unknown origins enter his house. Although Bruno was capable, his reputation was quite poor because of his communication with gangs. Publicly hiring him would also damage the honor of the nobility.

"Perfume, my friend, perfume. Cough, cough, cough..." Bruno answered with a smile while coughing. "When Gallolin’s servant passed the envelope to me, every time I could smell that pungent smell on the letter paper, but there was no smell on the envelope. That kind of inferior perfume, I have only smelled it on street girls. Doesn't this explain anything?"

Indeed, Bruno was a low-status guy, and so were street girls. How could someone who sprayed such inferior perfume have contact with Gallolin? He suspected before that the servant met his old lover before starting, but that didn't make sense either. What kind of person would be in the mood to communicate with a lover when carrying confidential documents that need to be delivered as soon as possible? Moreover, the time Gallolin passed news to him was not stable. How could this servant ensure that his lover could find time to meet him every time? Moreover, the news passed by Gallolin was usually packed in an envelope. If it was just a brief contact, there should be no smell on the letter paper. The smell should be outside the envelope. But there was no perfume smell outside the envelope. Only the smell on the letter paper meant that before the letter was inserted into the envelope, another person had already read this document.

Being able to read letters that Gallolin had not yet sent, it could only be the person with him.

How could a woman who sprayed inferior perfume be mixed with the nobility? Gallolin wouldn't be dizzy enough to maintain a lover relationship with a woman of such status. Moreover, even if she was a lover, she wouldn't read Gallolin’s private letters at any time, especially such boring letters. Then the answer was self-evident. This woman lived with Gallolin, but they didn't trust each other very much. She even had the ability to carry out surveillance work without others noticing, but she didn't have the care of a professional spy. Unreasonable self-confidence made her not care about this flaw at all, which obviously possessed transcendent abilities.

"How long did it take you to think of these?" The nightingale straightened his waist and asked with interest.

"It’s hard to say clearly. I probably knew it after the third time I got the information sent by the servant." Bruno coughed a few times and sighed again.

At this time, showing off his reasoning ability could no longer give him a sense of accomplishment. Because of his carelessness and greed, he ignored the possibility of this woman creating accidents, causing other assistants in the detective agency to be almost out of control now, and even potentially in danger.

If he could, he would rather not accept Gallolin’s employment at that time. Unfortunately, too many people needed this money. Even if he did it again, he might still choose to accept it, but he would be more careful.