Tingen City, 2 Daffodil Street.

Klein, who had left a note, locked the door and walked briskly towards Leonard Mitchell who was waiting by the side of the road.

Leonard’s short black hair had grown a little over the month, and the lack of any grooming made it look messy.

Despite that, his messy hair still complimented his decent looks, emerald-colored eyes, and poetic vibes. It exuded a different sense of beauty.

Indeed, any hairstyle depends on the face… Klein lampooned inwardly. He pointed in the direction of Iron Cross Street and asked, “Is Frye waiting for us there?”

“Yes.” Leonard smoothed his untucked shirt and said casually, “Did you notice any clues when you were looking at the documents?”

Klein held his cane in his left hand as he walked along the side of the road and said, “No, I cannot find anything common in their times, locations, or causes of death. You should know that any rituals involving evil gods or devils must be conducted within a certain time frame or using a special method.”

Leonard touched the custom-made revolver hidden underneath his shirt, by his waist and chuckled.

“That isn’t an absolute rule. In my experience, some evil gods or devils are easily satisfied, as long as they have a particular interest in what is being asked of them.

“Also, a good number of the deaths seem normal. We have to omit them before we can arrive at the real answer.”

Klein glanced at him and said, “That’s why the Captain asked us to investigate once more. To eliminate the normal incidents.”

“Leonard, your tone and description tell me that you have considerable experience in this area, but you have only been a member of the Nighthawks for four years, with an average of two supernatural incidents a month. Furthermore, a large number of those were simple and easy to solve.”

He always felt that Leonard Mitchell was a little weird and mysterious. Not only was he always suspicious of him, believing that there was something about him. In addition, his demeanor also changed from time to time, sometimes quiet, sometimes arrogant, sometimes flippant, sometimes staid.

“Could it be that you’ve also had a fortuitous encounter? An encounter that makes you view yourself as a star in a play?” Klein made a rough deduction based on all the movies, novels, and dramas he had watched in the past.

Upon hearing this question, Leonard laughed and said, “That’s because you’re not a full-fledged Nighthawk yet. You’re still in the training phase.

“The Holy Cathedral compiles a record of all supernatural encounters experienced by cathedrals of the different dioceses and hands it down to its members once every six months.

“Aside from your mysticism lessons, you can submit an application to the Captain and request to enter Chanis Gate to read these records.”

Klein nodded in enlightenment.

“The Captain has never mentioned this to me.”

Klein hadn’t had the opportunity to enter Chanis Gate up to this point.

and said, “I thought that you were already used to the Captain’s style. To think that you are still naively waiting

“We must be cautious of the Captain if there ever

of control? Klein nodded, his expression serious. He then asked, “Is the forgetfulness unique to the Captain? I had thought that it was a problem

midnight oil usually leads

what is real and what isn’t. They need to remember what isn’t part of reality…” Leonard wanted to elaborate further, but they had already arrived at Iron Cross Street

round black hat and a windbreaker of a similar color with a leather briefcase in his hand. He was so pale that it made Klein

each other, the three grouped up silently and walked past the Smyrin Bakery before

faced with a din. Merchants selling clam soup, seared fish, ginger beer, and fruits were shouting hysterically

returning to Iron Cross Street, and the sides of the streets were becoming crowded.

with the streets, especially since he had lived in a nearby apartment in the past. He reminded the group, “Be careful

need not

adjusted the holster of his gun, revealing his

the gazes fixed on them shifted away. The pedestrians around them

with large steps. He lowered his head, trying hard to avoid

dealings with the neighbors

was had many peddlers and turned into the true Lower Street of Iron Cross

and beautiful clothes; yet, there was also greed in their

Lauwis, a lady who glued matchboxes together for a living.” Leonard flipped his

the three of them walked forward, children who were playing in the streets and dressed in shabby clothes

as matchsticks.”

could faintly detect the stench

his nose. He then saw Bitsch Mountbatten who had been waiting there

a brownish-yellow mustache and was envious of Leonard’s rank of

to wait in her room,” Bitsch Mountbatten said with his

clearly didn’t recognize Klein, who now looked more energized and proper. All he cared about was sucking up to the three officers in front of him as he led them to

upright inside the room and a desk filled with glue and hard paper on the right side. The corner of the room was piled full of frames for matchboxes, while

center of the room was occupied by two dirty

the bunk bed, her skin ice cold. It was clear that she had lost all

the corpse sat a man in his thirties. He had oily hair, looked

and ask you questions,” Bitsch Mountbatten shouted, without any

surprise, “Didn’t someone

worker’s uniform which had visible signs of

questions?” Bitsch Mountbatten berated the man, then turned to Leonard, Klein, and Frye. “Officers, this is Lauwis. The person on the bed is his wife, who is also the deceased. According to our preliminary analysis, she died from

and the rest tiptoed to the edge

Instead, he patted Lauwis gently, signaling for the man to make way

the sleeping man and asked, “This

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