Chapitre 31: chapter 26
Chapter 31 This is the East District
Chapter 117 This is the East District
"Look, I didn't lie to you."
Facing Klein's surprised gaze, the middle-aged and elderly man wiped his mouth, shrugged, and said with a bitter smile:
"I haven't eaten in almost three days."
Three days... Klein turned his neck in a daze, looked at the alley not far away, and then at the haggard-looking man. An indescribable bitterness filled his heart.
His spiritual intuition and vision told him that the man in front of him was indeed lying, but he could not express his doubts because he knew that the man's last words were not false.
Klein sighed silently and smiled:
"Sorry, I didn't introduce myself just now. I am a detective and I am investigating some recent events in the East District. Can you answer some questions for me? We can go to the cafe in front."
He pointed to the cafe mentioned in the man's lie.
The hand of the middle-aged and elderly man holding the half piece of black bread trembled. He was a little scared, but he really longed for a full meal, so he nodded nervously.
"No problem, it's much warmer inside than on the street."
"Their hot water is free, and if it's convenient for you to buy two loaves of bread for a penny, they won't drive me away."
"I recently heard someone tell me something new in the newspaper. They said that the king and the prime minister have issued a new decree that does not allow homeless people like me to disrupt the normal operations of businesses, so..."
Klein opened his mouth, not knowing how to continue. A feeling suddenly came over him, an incredible question.
He couldn't believe that the human opposite him was a legal citizen of the Kingdom of Loen, a citizen living in the Capital of Mandu.
He was completely silent, and simply led the man into the cheap cafe at the corner of the street.
The tables and chairs in the cafe are quite greasy, and it has a rare heater in the East District, which attracts many customers.
Noticing that the middle-aged and elderly man was attracted by the scent of food in the room, grabbing his throat to hide the movement of his Adam's apple, Klein's expression became more complicated. He went to the ordering position and ordered breakfast for two people.
"We can talk while we eat."
After bringing the food back to the table, Klein, who had already eaten breakfast, picked up a piece of toast and pushed the plate with food to the opposite side.
"These are all?" The man pointed at the bread and tea on the plate with anticipation and surprise, deliberately ignoring the more fragrant lamb and butter.
"all these are."
Klein's fingers crossed the entire table, and after the man began to dip a piece of bread into the tea and taste it carefully, he began to ask:
"You just said you got your cigarettes from Downton's ship?"
The man whose cheeks were stuffed with soft bread tensed up, hurriedly swallowed the food in his mouth, and explained slightly anxiously:
"I was just called over by someone else and didn't take anything more."
"I'm not sent by Downton Company," Klein waved his hand in relief until he thought of something. "My employer has been made trouble by the plateau people before, and he paid a lot for it. He hired him to collect people from the plateau. Evidence of crime, see if we can use the media to get revenge."
As he spoke, Klein picked up the thermos with tea, poured a glass of water and handed it to the man.
"Don't eat too quickly when you've been hungry for a long time."
"I know, I have an old friend who died like this." The middle-aged and elderly man tried to slow down and talked about sad things without too much trouble.
It seemed that the luxurious feeling of fullness moved him, or that he did not feel the malice he was accustomed to from Klein. Before the man filled his stomach, he took the initiative to persuade Klein, who was "collecting evidence of crimes committed by plateau people for his boss." .
"Sir, I am a homeless person, but to be honest, only people like me know the East End best."
"You are a good person. You should not get involved in the conflict between the plateau people and reporters, those beasts that eat people but don't spit out bones. I can read. Two days ago, I picked up a newspaper that others didn't want. It seemed to talk about the party of the plateau people. Got caught by the police?"
"You must never believe this kind of thing. This is all a lie created by reporters."
"If the plateau people find out that you want to do harm to them..." The man trembled in fear, and scanned the surrounding area alertly to make sure no one was eavesdropping, then he lowered his voice and said, "They have guns in their hands. You don't want your life!"
By causing trouble, reporting, sneak attacks, and ambushes, Klein, who had long ago offended the people on the plateau, personally killed the so-called "executioner" Meursault, and witnessed the whole story of the Zimange Party's lair being sealed off by the "Red Gloves." In the process, although I couldn't understand why the man who also got the news from the newspaper was so afraid of the plateau people, he still asked patiently:
"You said reporters were lying, but the police did arrest a group of plateau people recently. Is there anything wrong with this?"
The man licked the butter on his knife and fork, his eyes wandering, and he deliberately avoided Klein's eyes, not daring to answer.
Afraid of revenge from the plateau people... Klein snapped his fingers, and the surrounding environment suddenly became much darker.
His eyes were imperceptibly stained with an evil blood red, and the "poisoned wine brooch" hidden under the worker's uniform was faintly hot.
"Don't worry, no one will hear you."
His words seemed to have magic power. The man put down his knife and fork, rubbed his eyes in a daze, and suddenly changed his mind.
"Sir, you may not know that although the Zmange Party is gone, there are many people from the Plateau. Gangs of all sizes in the East District have their presence. Even the Fei Party. I heard that there are people from the Plateau in the Fei Party. Boss."
"People from the plateau originally came to Backlund from other provinces to seek a living. They care about their fellow villagers. If a person from the plateau is bullied, ten or twenty people from the plateau may seek revenge from you next time."
"Not to mention the boss of the Philip Party. When I was a worker, I worked in a factory controlled by the Philip Party. Once, I went without wages for two weeks. The children in our family were so hungry that they couldn't stand it. Let's try to imitate the troubles mentioned in the newspaper, let the boss know that we are not easy to bully, and quickly make up for the salary, but the result..."
"result?"
The man fell into memories, and his numbness gradually gained some aftertaste and sadness. He didn't get out of it until Klein reminded him.
He swallowed hard and said:
"The reporters came the next day. They said they would help us. They interviewed many people. They took down what we said at the time and said they should send this to the newspapers. The kind gentlemen and ladies who live in the West End and Queens, the Prime Minister and the Ministers We will definitely take it seriously, and maybe the king will support us in the end and help us get the rewards we deserve."
"Then the reporters sold your words to the Philanthropists?" Klein guessed the worst possible development.
"More than that," the man smiled bitterly, "the people in the Philip Party fired us after they figured out who was behind the commotion. The reporter published our story in the newspaper, but in the report we turned into a group of people smashing factory machinery. The thugs still need to pay compensation."
"When did this happen?" Klein's voice did not rise or fall.
"Four years and three months." The man said numbly, "My wife and child died of infectious diseases not long after that. Thank the goddess, at least they no longer have to endure hunger and cold after going to the Kingdom of God."
Thank you... Klein's hand hanging on his chest was frozen in mid-air, and he didn't know what to do for a moment.
He suddenly remembered the topics he had discussed with netizens in the game group.
There were several P Society war criminals in the group at that time, and they talked about the current social status of various European countries after the industrial revolution. They talked about everything from Tsarist Russia to Britain, from east to west, and everywhere in the world.
P agency players said that in the 19th century, the average age of residents in the West End of England was less than thirty years old. The factories were full of gray-haired laborers, but few people actually reached their sixties.
Klein originally naively thought that it was machines and high-intensity work that took away these people's time. Now it seems that ultimately, the deformed and rapidly developing society itself is the real culprit that devours lives.
But is the world really developing at a rapid pace?
Klein read Russell's diary.
"I am a selfish person, and there are not many strangers worthy of my nostalgia, but I cannot allow my children... to continue to live in such a world."
"The current human race has developed for more than four centuries since it was liberated...It is still incompetently stagnant in feudal tranquility...The shackles of ignorance and arrogance have never been relaxed for a moment."
Now, Klein is looking at the poor people in front of him. Countless East Sides have been flattened before him. They are similar but different. Countless legal citizens who are hidden under the reputation of "Capital of Ten Thousand Capitals" and "Land of Order" have no regard for Russell. The sigh has a deeper understanding.
Russell launched the Industrial Revolution in order to free mankind from backwardness. Regardless of his ultimate ambition to become a god or other purposes, this is indeed part of his rebellious motivation.
But has the world really changed? Klein questioned himself and also questioned his dead fellow villager.
A Sequence 1 Archangel, a being who almost ascended to the throne of God. As far as he knew, the high-sequence "generalists" had keen inspiration. Did Russell really not encounter all of this?
No, it's not him who should answer my question, it's the king of Loen, the gods living in the star realm. Haven't they seen everything that happened in the East District and even more similar areas?
If you saw it, why did you ignore it?
If he saw it, how could Tingen do it... He stopped his divergent thoughts in time and strangled the blasphemous thoughts in the cradle.
Even if he is an out-and-out unbeliever, he is still afraid of the divine punishment that the real God may inflict.
He scratched the itchy palm of his right hand, scanned the dust floating in the air with his peripheral vision, and said lightly:
"Are the East District Plateau people still active recently?"
"Did you notice anything unusual about them, anything different from usual?"
The middle-aged and elderly man took a sip of water and showed no expression.
"They have been active, as usual, and are still doing their old business. It's just that after the Zmange Party disappeared, they did panic a lot. Maybe they were afraid that other local gangs in Backlund would take the opportunity to suppress them. They seemed to be trying to establish a A new gang composed entirely of highlanders."
"In other words, they are gathering frequently in private?"
Klein accurately grasped the key points of the man's words.
"I don't know how detailed it is."
The man shook his head and said sorry.
"It's okay, thank you for giving me these," Klein thought for a moment, took out a handful of copper pennies from his pocket and stuffed them into the man's hand, "This is the reward you deserve."
"Okay, okay, thank you, thank you!" The man didn't come back to his senses for a moment, looking at the half-untouched food on the table in shock. It wasn't until Klein walked to the door that he raised his voice and said, "I Go back to the cheap hotel, take a shower, get some sleep, and then go find a job."
When Klein heard this, he quickened his pace even more.
It's not that he hasn't thought about developing men to become his regular informants, but what he really wants to investigate is too dangerous, and some people's own experiences have been unfortunate.
…
On the streets of the East District, on Klein's empty right side, a voice that only he could hear suddenly came out.
"That man is lying, there's something else in the alley."
"Is it important?" Klein asked, "There is no trace of the existence of the spiritual thread in the alley. He has no ill intentions towards me. Even if he really couldn't help it and had no choice but to do something wrong, so what?"
As soon as he finished speaking, Klein noticed that his tone was a little fierce and shook his head.
"Sorry, I know you mean well."
"Well, Your Highness, I mean Mr. Viscount, does he usually receive reports from reporters investigating the living conditions of residents in the East District?"
Sharon, who had transformed into a spirit body, scanned the faces with obvious signs of hunger. Some were still awake, while others were numb and exhausted and looked less human, just like the ones she had seen in her hometown in the highlands.
Klein couldn't see her expression, but only heard Miss Hunter's ethereal voice:
"Reporters from the "Tasok River News" occasionally send similar surveys, hoping that banks can allocate funds to support the welfare funds and public welfare organizations they recommend. UU Reading www.uukanshu.net"
"As for what happened after receiving the investigation, I don't know very well."
"Someone will be responsible for subsequent verification and appropriation."
In other words, there are still reporters working hard... Klein nodded slightly.
When the report is sent to Zaratul, there will be a dedicated person in charge. I am afraid that Zaratul is not only maintaining the daily operations of the identity of Viscount Hunter, but also showing off like other nobles, using public welfare undertakings to embellish it. Pretended reviews.
Is the so-called person in charge actually a member of the Secret Order?
Klein suspected that Zaratul's main purpose of supporting public welfare and welfare organizations was to covertly spread the belief in the true Creator or the "God of Mysteries", expand his influence in the enemy's hinterland, and secretly increase his power.
This is what the "Rose School" is doing, but they want to win over the plateau people at the bottom of the oppressive class in the East District.
No wonder the church's handbook says that slums and factory areas are breeding grounds for cults of evil gods... Such an environment can indeed easily shake a person's heart and voluntarily fall into the embrace of dangerous and unknown beings.
"What's next?"
Sharon Hunter's usual restrained words reached Klein's ears.
He thought for a moment, then a smile slowly formed on his lips, and he turned around and headed towards the north where the smog was heavier.
"The factories and docks, I want to see what's going on over there with my own eyes."
I am too young and my life is too good. When writing this kind of plot, I feel unconvincing in many aspects, so I can only rely on investigation reports that actually existed in the past.
Maybe this is the era of the Industrial Revolution.
Finally, I would like to ask for recommendations and monthly tickets, please.
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Chapter 32 12 years old
Chapter 119 Twelve Years Old
The brick-red factory buildings are crowded inside the gray walls, with chimneys made of stone interspersed among them, continuously spitting out Backlund's raw materials with a cold tone. The pungent mist with the smell of sulfur is like a big hand, suppressing the corner of the city.
In the dock area, workers in thin uniforms were busy blocking passing ships, which was the only connection between the closed factory area and the outside world during working hours.
Klein leaned his back against the rough exterior wall of a two-story building, squatting on the raised exterior of the street like many homeless people waiting to be selected by the foreman, rejecting the good intentions from around him.
"I don't smoke."
The little boy holding a carton filled with various Southern Continental cigarettes smiled awkwardly, and like a magic trick, he picked up two packages made of oil paper in the box, rather mysteriously.
"Besides cigarettes, I also have other products. Ye Zi and Lie Langqi are all products from Kangsheng Haihang of Yishui. You really don't want to try them?"
In a boy's world, there is no man in the East End who doesn't smoke.
These plantation products from the kingdom's colonies were not just entertainment for the big shots, but also the only good medicine for workers who were exhausted after work and could not muster the hope to continue living.
The East End makes up most of the word "world" in the boy's life, but that doesn't mean the boy's experience is wrong.
On the contrary, a report published by the Backlund Post at the beginning of this year pointedly pointed out that the factory clusters contained in almost every Loen city are the largest sponsors that support tobacco companies in continuing to open plantations.
The cheap cigarettes, which cost five pennies and were rolled out of scraps from newspaper factories, were far more popular than the high-end cigarettes popular among aristocrats and businessmen.
The little boy's cheekbones are very prominent but they don't look mean, because Klein can clearly see that the high cheekbones and extremely sharp chin are the result of his skinny cheeks, lack of nutrition, and shriveled and deformed limbs. by-product.
Klein took out a few copper coins, exchanged them for a bottle of Relenzi from the gray-haired boy, and crushed the metal bottle cap combined with glass with his bare hands.
"Did you get all this from the Downton ship last week?"
"Hey, to tell you the truth, I know the news earlier than others, and I grab all the top-quality goods!"
"Look at the box in my hand. No, it's this line of characters. You may not recognize it. The last word is department store. This is something that was originally intended for the gentlemen in the Jowood District."
The little boy's eyes flashed with a cunning light, and his thin black fingers pointed at the label on the carton that was already damp and blurred, with pride in his tone.
"Are you literate?" The glass bottle containing Lielangzi was placed against Klein's mouth. The strong smell of low-quality alcohol made it difficult for him to swallow. "You studied in a missionary school?"
"You also went to a missionary school?" The little boy blinked.
"I went to the church's night school," Klein thought for a moment, "You don't go to school now, do you?"
Out of the habit of acting, when Klein saw the boy for the first time, he had already picked up all the information that could be mined from the boy's body.
He has no shoes, like most other children in the East District. The bottom of the cardboard box is wet and sticky with soot, indicating that the place where he placed the cardboard box yesterday must be on the floor of a leaky room. Considering the "goods" contained in the cardboard box, "This is probably the basis for the boy's survival in the next two months or even six months. Klein speculated that he himself slept on the ground.
As for how he could tell that the boy no longer went to the public welfare school run by the church... Klein withdrew his gaze from the large and small calluses on the boy's fingertips.
"I'm already gone," the boy snorted, then added, "My father said that as long as you know a hundred words, you will be very popular in the factory. There is no need to waste any more time."
What a waste... Klein half-sighed:
"So, your father, who knows a hundred words, must have found a good job in the factory."
The boy became excited when he talked about his father.
Few of the unemployed workers squatting beside the union wall, waiting for an opportunity, would buy goods from him. He was just passing by to try his luck today.
It was still early before the bar opened, and the boy who could rest for a while simply sat next to Klein, looking into the distance with longing in his eyes.
"Did you see the third chimney on the left? My father used to work there."
"He is in charge of a machine that can move a house-sized hammer by boiling water. He has six assistants under him. At the best time, he can get a salary of three sulu a week."
"Three sulers."
Klein turned his head and glanced at the little boy who was licking his wet mouth, and said without emotion:
"Your father is a skilled worker who controls a steam forging hammer. He is very powerful."
"Do you want to find a job like this in the future?"
"No." The boy shook his head in denial.
He continued to stare at the chimney behind the haze, his tone much more negative than before.
"My father only received a salary of three soles for less than a month."
Klein nodded silently without interrupting. He looked at the little boy quietly and continued:
"Not only does he command one kind of machine, but he also has another one that I can't name. Anyway, it's steam or something."
"I later found out that there are many people like my father who have been eaten by machines. Working with iron guys who can spray steam, almost no one can last more than a year."
Similar experiences are not uncommon in the East End, in Loon, and in any new factory. Mines, cotton spinning mills, and foundries are always the places with the highest wages and the closest to death. This is especially true after the "Corn Act."
The farmers who used to cultivate the undulating wheat fields and were self-sufficient although not carefree were driven out of their hometown by a piece of legislation.
Even if they were tied up, these people who did not know a hundred words and had never seen a steam train were sent to a dock where steam monsters were rampant as soon as they entered the city. They were kicked out of the mining industry and imprisoned in a factory with excessive lead content.
These are places where it's easy to find skilled jobs without being an apprentice, which is the only way out they can find.
Listening to the unlucky story shared by the fourth conversation partner this morning, Klein still found it difficult to adapt to the indescribable bitterness in his heart.
He tried his best to control the ups and downs in his voice, observed the boy's expression, and said carefully:
"You live with your mother now?"
"She works nearby? Is she also a factory worker?"
There are many street girls near the factory area. Klein heard this from the second chat partner he met in the dock area today. Many of them are the family members of a worker in the factory next door.
The boy, who had been under the influence of "poison wine" and illusion for a long time, nodded indifferently.
"My home is nearby, but she doesn't work in the factory."
As he spoke, the boy started gesturing with his hands.
"My sister works in a textile factory, and the other two sisters work in the garment factory next door. There was originally another sister, but she... Meila got the plague last year and didn't survive it."
"My brothers all work in the foundry, but my mother doesn't dare to let them do the same job as my father, so even if they know a hundred words, they can only work as assistants for others, which adds up to only one person a month. Soule."
The boy pointed at himself again, as if it was a matter of course.
"But I don't plan to listen to my mother. I asked in the bounty hunter's bar. I can be an apprentice to a watchmaker. They can work if they are under twelve years old. I only need to wait for another year. "
"Can you work at the age of twelve?" As a time traveler, a lucky person who still has his brother to take care of him even after time travel, Klein couldn't imagine how a twelve-year-old child could survive in a factory that even adults couldn't survive.
In the more than two months since he traveled back in time, this kind of thing has not been reported in Lun's newspapers, and the people on the streets who came into contact with Tingen during his mission have not heard of this kind of thing. "Cline Moretti" has a better memory. No.
The boy's words were like a blow to the head, reminding Klein of the chat he had with the Moretti brother and sister, a family of three, at the dinner table one night.
At that time, Benson hesitated for a long time after listening to Klein's work experience.
"Maybe I protected you too well..."
Klein remembered him saying this.
"...The factory has been like this for a long time." The boy didn't notice the confusion in Klein's eyes. He showed a maturity that did not match his age, and he calculated the accounts seasonally. "My sisters can get half a suler a week, and my brothers A little more. Mum and Nopa wash clothes every day for about four pence. I earn about the same as the two of them combined in a day. This is just enough for rent and food..."
"When I pass my birthday this year, and I have been working for a watchmaker for three years and become a true apprentice, I will be able to get a salary of one sole per month, which is more than my two brothers combined..."
The total amount of money that the boy had carefully counted was not as much as the change that Klein had in his pocket at this time.
"But sir, I really need to thank you." The boy suddenly stopped clasping his fingers.
He turned his head and stared at Klein's blank eyes very seriously. He imitated the way the priest prayed in the church school. He drew the triangle symbolizing the God of Steam and Machinery on his chest and said with a straight face:
"I stole the Lielangzi you just bought from the ship. You did make me a sole."
…
Da, da, da, several horses ran over from afar and stopped beside the artificially created stream.
A young man wearing white trousers, high black boots, a slim shirt and a dark riding uniform quickly dismounted and walked to another brown pony that he loved more and was more docile. He reached out and handed the horse the same riding uniform. Young brunette girl dressed up.
He leaned against the girl and whispered a few words in her ear. After a while of comforting him, he took the time to glance at the guards protecting the two of them. Then he left the riding team alone and walked towards the people who had been waiting at the edge of the grass for a long time. Several figures.
"Gilbert, you gave me a wonderful gift."
One of the most noble people in Loen - the fifth son of the current king, "Earl Rustin" Edsac Augustus waved the riding crop in his hand slightly and looked at the man who was almost shorter than himself. The one-headed Baron Sindras generously embraced him.
The prestigious banker returned the favor with a smile, not unlike his peers at all. Because the person in front of him was a full twenty years younger than himself, he felt the generation gap and resisted, and he was not flattered by the name of the third prince.
The two chests touched each other reservedly for a moment and then separated immediately. Gilbert Sindras's mustache trembled and trembled due to his smile.
He first responded seriously as a courtier.
"Your Highness, the Amanda Mountains have always been the best fur producing area in the Kingdom. Although we always say that the Fusac barbarians do not understand art and aesthetics, they do have unique knowledge in raising livestock. I specialize in hiring people at my ranch in the Amanda Mountains. I have helped several people from Fusac, and your praise just affirms this hard work."
"However," Viscount Sindras changed the topic and said with a sly smile that was not suitable for his age, "Even if you want to ask me for it again, I will not be able to conjure up a second batch for you. Our little bull's whole body Everyone is with you."
"Gilbert, this is why I like chatting with you." Edsac smiled, patted the banker's shoulder, and led the way to the main manor house not far away.
"Most people give me gifts, and if I like them, they will give me the same kind next time. They keep emphasizing that they can definitely find better ones, but the quality is not as good as before, and they make up all kinds of weird stories to try. To add drama to something that was born in the hands of a craftsman less than a year ago."
"You're the only one who would say to me, 'Well, Your Highness, this is the best I can find. There's nothing you can do about it, this is the best.' You're the only one who can tell the truth. ."
Baron Sindras smiled humbly.
"You praise me so much, but I don't know if I should tell you the rest of the story."
Prince Edsac, who was half a body ahead of everyone, suddenly stopped and asked curiously:
"ＵU看书www.uukｎshu.net Is there a story behind the gift you gave me?"
"You should have heard the joke about me in the newspapers some time ago." Baron Sindras did not answer directly.
His words succeeded in inflaming the prince's annoyance with reporters.
"Ignore those flies that just buzz around people."
"The protagonist of the story is not them, Your Highness," Baron Sindras chuckled, "My goods were indeed snatched away by the plateau people, and I didn't even keep the gifts I wanted to give you. This is my dereliction of duty. , no matter how ugly their reports are, I don't think there's anything wrong with it."
"Emperor Russell once said that after the storm is the rainbow. I have always liked this sentence."
"After I lost the gift I wanted to give you, I tried many ways to get it back from the plateau gangsters, even if I gave up all other goods."
"But they refused?" Prince Edsac had obviously heard about the recent major events published in the newspapers.
"Rejected." Sindras couldn't deny it, "That's why the rest of the story came about."
He blinked mysteriously and gave it up.
"Your Highness, can you imagine how a little-known detective went deep into the plateau people's stronghold, killed their 'executioners', and then brought your gift and a surprise back to me intact?"
I just finished writing it today, sorry for the late update.
It lasted twenty hours from the train ride last night to the time I ran to see my old man at home. I was so tired that I took a nap before I started writing. I hope you can understand and apologize~
Finally, I would like to ask for recommendations and monthly tickets, please.
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Chapter 33 Debate
Chapter 120 Debate
"…Dirty, crowded, and smelly, this is the impression that my eyes, mouth and nose give me intuitive feedback."
In the factory, which was filled with light yellow and could not be seen, no one could find any trace of a "faceless man" sneaking into the factory.
When I walked out of the factory, there was no difference between the brand-new dark blue workers' uniforms and the many clothes of the same style in the East District. They were all stained with mud and full of pungent rotten odor.
"This is nothing new. The kid you're talking to sounds more mature than you, at least he's not surprised."
"I remember that your life wasn't very good before. Why did you suddenly become so sentimental?"
In the old apartment that temporarily belonged to Sherlock Moriarty in the Backlund Bridge area, Jerry Zaratul looked at the "ghosts" floating in the air with interest and poured the brewed coffee into a cup.
"You should know better than me." Klein's eyes were serious.
"Gostars, there is a reason why the 'Rose School' chose the East District."
"Do you even need to say this?" Jerry Zaratul raised his eyebrows.
Klein, who was suddenly interrupted from casting a spell, suppressed the blockage in his throat, glared fiercely, and continued:
"Everyone in the East End has parasites, and their drinking water source is problematic. Factory owners don't live in the East End. They don't care how much chemical waste is deposited in the section of the Tussock River that flows through the dock."
"As for the houses in the East District, I went to the shabbiest neighborhoods. Many houses are almost as old as Backlund University. Even so, this is not the worst living environment."
"Because a lot of people simply can't afford housing."
"Their spirits are not normal, even..."
"stop."
Jerry Zaratul calmly interrupted Klein's accusation, not hiding his heartfelt disdain.
"Do you think this has anything to do with me?"
"Are you a 'Nighthawk' recognized by the Church of the Night? Or are you a Backlund policeman?" Jerry Zaratul's raised lips were filled with sarcasm as he clicked his tongue, "I only see that you are wasting His Highness's precious expectations. I'm wasting your advisor's time and being self-impressed like a child."
Faced with Jerry Zaratul's accusation, Klein glared back without showing any weakness.
He took a deep breath, trying to suppress the anger that was provoked by the "poisonous wine" and resonated with the "creeping hunger".
"You are not from Loen. Of course, it doesn't matter how miserable the people of Loen are."
"Of course I don't care what happens to Roen, because I am an Intis by blood, I belong to Trunsoest by faith, and I am essentially a Zaratul." Jerry Zaratul's accusation against Klein is just Smile easily.
He glanced at Sharon, who had sat on the only vacant seat in the room at some point, observing the two sides without saying a word, and suddenly lowered his voice.
"I understand what you mean."
"You used your own body to measure the current situation in the East District and figured out how bad the current situation is. You are worried that what A and I did in Tingen will be repeated by the 'Rose School' in Backlund. And it's more intense."
"To be honest, if you can consider this, you are already much stronger than Prime Minister Roen's cabinet three generations back from the current one."
"But the problem is, my Mr. Moretti, we are not Loen's law enforcement agency, nor are we the agents of their faith church. You also know that I am a believer in the Creator, and I am Loen's enemy!"
"Except that our attitudes towards the lackeys of the 'Mother Tree of Desire' may be similar, as for the rest, what obligation do I have to help them deal with the aftermath and do my best for the citizens of other countries?"
Maybe it was because he had spent a long time with Mr. A, who was not good at talking, but now that he suddenly had an opportunity to communicate freely, Jerry Zaratul suddenly became interested.
He tapped his index finger on the table, attracting the thoughtful Klein to raise his gaze.
"You don't understand the Southern Continent, so I won't discuss anything related to the Holy City with you."
"Let's start with the Northern Continent that you are familiar with. Trier, are you familiar with it?"
Trier, the capital of the Republic of Intis, the heart of Russell Gustav's empire, and further up, was divided between the Blood Emperor Tudor and such prominent surnames as Trunsoest, Solomon, and Eggers. The imperial capital of the world.
Whether it is from historical records, newspapers, or magazines, there is no shortage of enthusiastic praise for the "Romantic City" in the texts Klein has read.
Seeing Klein nodded, Jerry Zaratul continued:
"Then you know that apart from the White Maple Palace, apart from the Presbyterian House, apart from the enthusiastic Intis girls and boys, the most important thing about Trier that cannot be ignored is that it is actually nearly twice the size of Trier City and more shabby than the East District. Dirty slums?"
He briefly described the buildings in Trier's underground, high and low, always on the verge of collapse, maintaining a tilted state and standing tenaciously, and shared the various gangs and cults that were broken down during secret operations. Scenes of persecution of slum dwellers.
Finally, looking at Klein, who had his eyes lowered and was obviously in low spirits, Jerry Investigate did not forget to spread his hands and continued to strike:
"This is the Northern Continent. Except for the small countries of Maxi and Lunberg that believe in knowledge and have special social and political forms, you will only find more Eastern Districts on this land. The tragedies you said you saw abound. "
"You will definitely not stay in Backlund for a long time. Do you think that every time you visit a city in the future, you have to go to the local slums to lament?"
Jerry Zaratul used his rich experience to brutally confront Klein with the bloody reality. He only hoped that Klein could get out of the meaningless empathy as soon as possible and devote himself to investigation work.
He is not interested in attacking college students who have just entered the society. It is only because of work needs that he said so many dangerous remarks in one breath.
If the head of the family is not joking, after a few years, you become a "Miracle Master", and no one will care if you are willing to go to the Northern Continent and work as a wishing machine every day to help the poor realize their dreams...
Jerry Zaratul took out the documents he carried with him and was just about to start the real purpose of his visit when he suddenly heard a question from Klein.
"Every time you chat with me, you will show a sense of superiority similar to the way you look down on the indigenous people in the Northern Continent."
"You said that the tragedies in the East District are common in the Northern Continent. Isn't this the case in the Southern Continent?"
Klein's brown eyes shone with shrinking anticipation, making Jerry Zaratul's eyelids twitch.
"Of course not." He smiled and shook his head. "The Second Empire of Trunsoest is not equal to the Southern Continent. The empire is not prosperous everywhere. A country always falls behind."
He untied the cotton thread that sealed the seal of the document bag and wrapped it around it.
"But compared to Lun, we at least have an Emperor who is sane, not crazy, and not trying to hatch dangerous ideas."
"Your Majesty, His Majesty the Pope, and the angels of the church do not have to hide behind secular power agencies, but can directly intervene in everything to prevent some ambitious people from becoming big. After seeing the countries in the Northern Continent, I am very glad that we Maintaining the good traditions passed down from the Quaternary Age."
He handed the document to Klein and explained:
"Of course, even if their highnesses take the lead in daily work and ensure the basic line of real estate supply, the empire cannot keep everyone fed. Many families can only rely on their children of school age to enlist in the army in exchange for an extra ration. ."
"Feifan can properly participate in productive labor, but if everything must be solved by Feifan..."
Jerry Zaratul frowned in disgust and slapped a few pages of paper he took out of the document bag in front of Klein's face.
"No more nonsense, there is an additional operation that requires your assistance."
He looked at the slightly surprised Klein and shrugged.
"Wouldn't you like a change of mood?"
"You applied voluntarily. You said that if there was news about Lanerwus, you..."
Not caring about continuing to debate the Bible with Jerry Zarathustra, Klein picked up the paper on the table that recorded various clues. His arm that moved too much hit the corner of the dining table and made a muffled sound. Even Sharon, who had been listening as an audience, was attracted by his fierce reaction, got up and flew behind him.
There are only a few pages, not much detailed description, only detailed maps, place names arranged in chronological order, and autopsy reports of the deceased attached to the main information.
The outer suburbs of Backlund, White Cliff Town, Stepford Riverside... Klein scanned these familiar place names and saw the same familiar descriptions on the time report.
Unknowingly, he had come into close contact with Lanerwus.
Klein was breathing heavily, his back bent uncontrollably, and his hands trembling violently clasped the sides of the dining table.
"boom!"
The expression on his face was almost out of control. Klein tried hard to use the ability of the "Faceless Man" to correct his rebellious facial muscles, and continued to read the remaining clues he had not finished as if nothing had happened.
Just like Lanerwuss did in Tingen, the scam that occurred at the party held by the old man "Eye of Wisdom" also appeared in the Bounty Hunter Bar in the East District, underground gang gatherings, and other events in the Backlund Bridge area. In a communication group formed spontaneously by extraordinary people of all sizes.
Lanruth gave them the same speech, and every time he would go with them, there would be no exception.
Klein looked at it for a long time before putting down the crumpled page.
"That's not like Lanrewus' style."
Not to mention that Lanerwus knows that he cannot escape the pursuit of the followers of the True Creator. Even if he does have a new goal, he should hide behind the scenes the whole time like last time and not reveal his true identity until the last moment. whereabouts.
"We also think that Lanerwus' purpose is not to get something in the Stratford River Mausoleum." Jerry Zaratul said, "It seems to want everyone to pay attention to this mausoleum, whether it is us, It's still the official and church of Loen."
"You see, every time he appears, the rhetoric he uses to deceive the wild Beyonders, at least in the impressions of the survivors we have come into contact with, is completely consistent."
Jerry Zaratul touched his chin and said:
"Actually, when you reported to A last time, our people lurking in the wild Extraordinary gathering had already discovered the anomaly. Another divine envoy - K, who was the person responsible for tracking down Lanerwus in the first place, used Our own experience provides us with the most important clue."
"Encounter? The most important clue?"
Could it be that the divine envoy codenamed K has already met Lanerwus and even fought against him?
Klein couldn't wait to dig out the details from Jerry Zaratulli.
Fortunately, Jerry Zaratul was still very serious when he was working and did not deliberately tease Klein's thoughts.
"Based on K's experience, we determined that the tomb discovered by Lanerwus belongs to a great nobleman from the Fourth Age."
"Which noble?" Klein immediately asked.
After looking at Sharon, who looked unrealistic, and then at Klein, Jerry Zarath gave up the idea of reciting the name of his family master to save his life.
But out of fear of that surname, he still took several deep breaths before opening his lips with difficulty.
"Amon."
Amon? An unheard surname... Unlike Klein who was fearless due to ignorance, Sharon, who had been watching, could hardly maintain her inorganic expression like a "doll" when she heard this surname. Her azure eyes trembled and glanced towards Jerry Zaratul, with a hint of surprise and inquiry.
As a child adopted by the "Angel with Lamp", she had of course also studied the family history of the Zarathul family, and understood many parts of the Fourth Age that had been lost in the eyes of historians.
For example, Amun, the son of the Creator, killed the head of Zoroastrian family.
For example, Zaratul and Zoroaster, both ministers of Solomon, were not only competitors in adjacent paths, but the two duke families also became allies shortly before the second fall of the "Black Emperor".
At first, when Sharon read this record, she thought it was just a helpless move by two archangels in an awkward position to help each other and protect themselves. Until one day, she accidentally learned that some members of the Zaratul family now Her original surname turned out to be Zoroastrian, and she realized that there might be a deeper reason for the alliance between the two major families in the Fourth Age.
But Sharon Hunter is an outsider after all. When it comes to her understanding of the Zaratul family... Klein noticed the gaze of Miss Hunter behind him, and UU Reading www.uｕkanshu.net also cast his gaze to the opposite side.
"Amon, if you have read the original holy book of the Lord, you will know that he is the youngest son of the Lord, a terrifying existence with the titles of 'Angel of Time' and 'God of Mischief'."
Does the Creator have children? Thinking of the rumors about the "Father of All Things" and "Mother of All Things" that the Vampire Clan had heard, Klein's eyes suddenly became a lot strange.
Jerry Zaratul seemed very reluctant to mention anything about "Amon". Sharon had also read the so-called original version of the Holy Scripture and quickly changed the subject.
"After conducting a covert inspection of the periphery of the tomb discovered by Lanreus, we found traces left earlier than Lanreus and those who were deceived by him."
"Based on the intelligence we had previously obtained, we have reason to suspect that before Lanerwus participated in the Tingen operation, he obtained the coordinates of the mausoleum from a party composed entirely of 'thieves' - the 'Hermits of Destiny'."
"We speculate that his original plan was to defraud the Lord of the power that descended during the ceremony, and wanted to use this to try to open the door to the mausoleum. However, because the level was too low, he failed to accurately predict the power of the Lord's divine power, so now he has to remove the tomb's door. The location is disclosed to the public step by step under his own control to attract the attention of more forces."
Jerry Zaratul paused for a moment.
"The most likely guess at the moment is that Lanerwus wants to continue to make noise, and use the hands of unknowing storms or the Church of the Night to remove the divine mark left on him by the Lord, and escape again like Tingen did at that time ."
It should be a little earlier tomorrow. I will try to finish writing before nine o'clock tomorrow.
Finally, I would like to ask for recommendations and monthly tickets, please.
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