Chapter 232: “Live Broadcast”

Chapter 232: “Live Broadcast”

Lightning split the sky, illuminating the pitch-black city wall.

Derrick Berg, carrying a leather pouch on his back and holding the Hurricane Axe, stood outside the gate tunnel with nearly ten teammates.

Looking up, he saw that the black soil in the cracks between the stones of the city wall had dried until it crumbled, yet clumps of stubborn weeds still grew from it, drifting densely like human hair.

Just then, he heard light footsteps. He hurriedly withdrew his gaze and looked toward the city gate.

Amid the alternation of lightning and darkness, a tall figure slowly walked over, carrying two restrained straight swords crossed behind his back.

Immediately afterward, his pale, disheveled hair, his weathered and profound eyes, old scars twisted and deep, and his unchanging brown coat and linen shirt entered the eyes of Derrick and the others one after another.

The one who had come was the Chief of the City of Silver’s Six-Member Council, Colin Iliad, a powerful Demon Hunter.

After greeting him, Derrick unconsciously cast his eyes toward the Chief’s waist. There was a belt divided into many compartments, each holding a different small metal bottle.

This was a sign of a Demon Hunter’s experience and power.

Derrick had once heard his parents say that Demon Hunters were skilled at discovering the weaknesses of different monsters, identifying the uses of various materials, and, under a unique meditative state, using the latter to counter the former. They could concoct and create corresponding miraculous medicines, holy balms, essential oils, and special marks, then achieve the effect of suppressing their targets by consuming, applying, or using those items.

In a certain sense, an experienced, well-learned, well-prepared, quick-witted Demon Hunter was the bane of most monsters. The number and kinds of small metal bottles at their waist represented their “experience.”

Of course, this was only one portion of a Demon Hunter’s Beyonder abilities. Relying on these alone, they could not be called demigods or Saints.

Colin swept his gaze around, confirming that all team members had arrived, then spoke in a low voice.

“Light the lamps. Set out.”

Two team members immediately lit the candles inside the lanterns, allowing faint yellow light to hazily shine through the extremely thin leather.

During “daytime,” when lightning was frequent, candles were unnecessary inside the City of Silver, because there would be “illumination” every two or three seconds, and the surrounding monsters had been cleared again and again. But once they left the City of Silver and entered the depths of darkness, they had to maintain candlelight at all times. Otherwise, if the lightning failed to continue at some stage, resulting in more than five seconds without light, the team would most likely suffer an attack from certain monsters.

A fierce battle was not the most terrifying outcome. What left the deepest impression on Derrick was a story his parents had once told him.

During one exploration into the depths of darkness, because of an earlier battle with a tide of corroded living corpses, candles had not been replaced in time. They had been forced to endure eight seconds of profound darkness. When lightning returned and candlelight reappeared, they were shocked to find that of the original eight teammates, only five remained. The other three had vanished silently and unknowingly. They were never seen again.

Drawing a breath, Derrick tightened his grip on the Hurricane Axe and walked in the middle of the team, following the Chief toward their predetermined direction.

A flash of lightning abruptly shone, making the plains and fields planted with black long grass appear like a sinister oil painting.

The exploration team of ten Beyonders walked along a road full of jagged rocks, moving deep into those stretches of black grass.

The lightning faded, and dense darkness immediately rolled back, nearly swallowing them whole.

Faint yellow candlelight passed through the leather, weakly, shakily holding the surrounding area.

…

In a greasy, low-priced café in the East Borough.

Following their previous arrangement, Klein found Old Kohler, who was spreading artificial butter on toast.

He glanced at the crumpled cigarettes on the table and laughed softly.

“Newly bought?”

“No, from before. I haven’t smoked them again, but I always carry them with me. From time to time, I take them out and sniff them. Heh, it reminds me of those days when I wandered the streets. Back then, I truly felt as though I might die at any moment,” Old Kohler said, his tone carrying a faint fear.

Klein took out the 20 soli in change he had exchanged beforehand and pushed it toward him as he sat.

“I was very satisfied with the information last time.”

Without waiting for Old Kohler to be modest, he turned his head toward the counter.

“One oat loaf, two slices of toast, one pat of butter, one serving of beef stewed with potatoes, and one penny’s worth of tea.”

“Mr. Moriarty, did you not eat dinner last night?” Old Kohler was taken aback as he held the banknotes.

Klein shook his head with a smile.

“I will be very busy afterward. Perhaps I will not have time for lunch.”

He had to pretend he was very active and serious, after all, since he had accepted Prince Edessak’s 100-pound expense fund.

Old Kohler did not ask more. While warily looking around, he stuffed the banknotes into his pocket.

“There are results regarding the matter you asked me to investigate last time. The bounty on Azik Eggers comes from several gang bosses and certain information brokers. Mm, I don’t know who commissioned them. Making contact with them is difficult.”

MI9, then… Klein nodded.

“That is enough. There is no need to go deeper. That would be too dangerous.”

Old Kohler let out a breath of relief, then continued, “Two days ago, someone saw a fellow suspected of being Azik Eggers at a cheap inn on Golden Cloak Street. They said he basically matched the photograph on the bounty notice.”

…Klein’s heart tightened. Instead of showing alarm, he smiled.

“And then? Don’t tell me the matter ended just as I was preparing to fight for that bounty.”

“Then? Once there was a clue, quite a few bounty hunters rushed over quickly, but they found nothing. Uh, they said there were traces of a fight in that room.” Old Kohler worked hard to recall the news he had gathered.

The information definitely would have gone to MI9 first… Did Mr. Azik have some secret confrontation with them? I wonder what the result was… Klein glanced at the owner approaching with the meal tray, then deliberately said to Old Kohler in a thoughtful tone, “Take me to Golden Cloak Street later. Perhaps I can find some clues.”

It was already past breakfast time in the East Borough, and there were very few customers inside the cheap café.

“All right.” Old Kohler agreed without hesitation.

“Sixteen and a half pence in total.” The owner placed Klein’s ordered breakfast on the table. There was not much beef in the potatoes, but it had been stewed until soft, clearly prepared in advance. The thick fragrance drew an involuntary swallow from Old Kohler.

After paying, Klein picked up his fork and spoon and said to Old Kohler, “Continue.”

“Hardly anyone is searching for the Fool’s believers anymore, aside from a few stubborn bounty hunters… Quite a few unemployed textile women, including some male workers, have left the East Borough…” Old Kohler reported item by item.

“What?” Klein swallowed the beef and raised his head. “Left the East Borough?”

“They probably found other work. I haven’t been able to find out exactly where they went,” Old Kohler answered truthfully.

“Their families don’t know?” Klein pressed.

“Some left together with unemployed family members. Others had no family to begin with and had come from elsewhere to Backlund looking for work,” Old Kohler said. He had clearly already carried out a certain degree of investigation.

Judging from the choice of targets, something is wrong with this… Klein noted it down first, then continued eating as he listened to Old Kohler describe what had happened in the East Borough during this period.

After agreeing on their next meeting time, he set down his utensils, wiped his mouth, picked up his hat, and said, “To Golden Cloak Street.”

…

Inside the only cheap inn on Golden Cloak Street.

After accepting a fee of two pence, the owner led Klein and Old Kohler toward the room where the person suspected of being Azik Eggers had stayed.

“During this period, many bounty hunters came. Heh, I made quite a bit because of it, so I kept everything as it was.” The owner opened the door with his key and pointed inside.

Klein looked in and saw an overturned chair and scraps of cloth scattered everywhere. Aside from that, there were no other signs of fighting.

Relying on his rather high inspiration, Klein cast his gaze beneath the bed.

After staring for two seconds, he walked over, bent down, and patted the bed frame.

Pff. A little dust rose, and a pale-black rat darted out from under the bed.

It looked normal, without the slightest issue, but in Klein’s spirit vision, the colors of its aura field had been reduced to black-green.

The rat made a turn and climbed up the wall, exposing its belly to Klein.

On that soft area, its flesh was green and oozed pus. The rotten internal organs inside could be seen directly.

Thoughtfully, Klein withdrew his gaze and said to Old Kohler, who had not noticed the rat at all, “Has the bounty on Azik Eggers been withdrawn?”

“No.” Old Kohler shook his head firmly.

Klein inspected the room again, then walked toward the outside.

“Let’s go. There are no valuable clues here.”

…

15 Minsk Street.

After spending the whole day “busily” running around outside, Klein lay down beneath the blankets early and entered the dream world.

Fragments, sometimes continuous and sometimes broken, drifted past. Klein suddenly became lucid, knowing that he was dreaming.

A force has invaded my dream… Klein maintained his previous hazy state and casually examined his surroundings.

He discovered that he was in the outskirts. Fertile fields lay everywhere.

A river flowed from the distance, bending around the cliff ahead.

One side of that cliff was bare, revealing pure white rock. From afar, it possessed a strangely sacred beauty.

At the river bend, nearly ten men and women carrying various items and wearing black coats or dark jackets stood around a hidden underground entrance. Among them was Klein’s acquaintance, Ikanser Bernard.

White Cliff Town… the bend in the Stafford River… the Machinery Hivemind… Are they exploring the Amon family mausoleum? But why would this scene appear in my dream? Klein was full of confusion.

Just then, he saw water-light stir across the river’s surface, quickly outlining a line of white words:

“Your loyal servant Arrodes reports to you the progress of the exploration.”

…Klein’s mouth opened slightly. For a brief moment, he was unable to say anything. In his mind, however, a voice echoed:

You’re a perfectly good mirror, so why are you acting like a mole?