Lord of the Mysteries

Finally, the elderly man, with gray hair by his temples, took a sip of tea and sighed with a smile.

“In truth, this is already much better than my previous situation, and it’s much better than many of the people here. For instance…”

He pointed out the window to the tramps huddled in a corner.

Klein and Mike looked over and saw a group of cowering tramps lying on the ground in a filthy place that provided shelter from the wind. They were of all sexes and ages.

It was possible for them to never wake up again in the coldness of late autumn.

It was then that Klein noticed an old woman in her sixties standing by the street. Her dress was old and worn, but she was relatively neat, and her hair was neatly trimmed.

The white-haired old lady had the usual tired look of a tramp, but she still persisted in not squeezing together with the group. Instead, she slowly walked by the roadside, occasionally gazing into the coffee shop numbly.

“She’s also a pitiful person.” The former tramp who had eaten the leftover black bread also noticed the old lady and sighed, “She was said to have led quite a good life in the past. Her husband was a grain merchant and had a very spirited child, but unfortunately, he went bankrupt and her husband and child died not long after. She’s different from us, really, and you can tell at a glance… Sigh, she won’t be able to hold on much longer, unless she’s lucky to be admitted into the workhouse every time.”

As he listened, Mike’s expression changed from quiet to somber. He slowly let out a sigh and said, “I want to interview her. Can you invite her for me? She can eat and drink whatever she wants here.”

The man wasn’t surprised by this request. He merely looked at Klein and Mike separately, as if to say: “the both of you are indeed colleagues.”

“Yes, I’m sure she would like that.” He drank his tea, got up, and walked out of the greasy coffee shop.

Not long after, the elderly woman in her old but tidy dress followed him in. Her pale face slightly lightened thanks to the warmth of the coffee shop.

She continued to tremble, as if she wanted to release the coldness in her body, bit by bit, and absorb the relatively high temperature within the coffee shop. Even after she sat down on the chair, it still took her a full minute before she could truly warm up.

“You can order whatever you want. This is the reward for accepting this interview,” Klein spoke on Mike’s behalf.

After Mike nodded, the old lady modestly ordered toast, low-quality cream, and coffee. Then she smiled and said, “I heard that one cannot eat greasy food after not having eaten in a while.”

Very polite, very self-restrained, not like a tramp at all… Klein sighed silently.

Before the food arrived, Mike asked casually, “Can you talk about how you became a tramp?”

The old lady revealed a look of reminiscence and said with a bitter smile, “My husband was a grain merchant who mainly bought all kinds of grain from domestic farmers, but we rapidly went bankrupt ever since the Grain Act was repealed.

“He wasn’t very young to begin with. After suffering that setback, his body quickly collapsed. Not long after, he passed away.

“My child, a brilliant young man, had been learning the ropes of doing business from his father. He couldn’t suffer the blow, and he ended up jumping into the Tussock River on a moonless night.

“His first suicide didn’t work. He was sent to the magistrate’s court, and the police and judges were very impatient, feeling that he was wasting their time.

“If you want to commit suicide, please do so quietly and successfully. Don’t trouble us… Yes, that was probably what they wanted to say, but they found it too direct.

was put in prison. Not long after,

though it wasn’t something that had

reason, Klein felt a deep sense of

a dead heart… He suddenly

world, suicide was not only prohibited by the Churches, but

by jumping into a river, and without being discovered in time, there was a certain probability of them turning into a water ghost. Second, the suicider often had very abnormal emotions. Thus, under such states, ending their lives was equivalent to a sacrificial offering

objects that were around after them after their deaths would

Puppet behind Tingen

their believers from committing suicide through their own doctrine, and the royal family also promoted the corresponding

could a suicider be afraid of

was about to say something when the owner of the coffee shop

first, we’ll talk later.” Mike pointed

the food in small bites,

much, she quickly

the last mouthful of coffee, she rubbed her temples and pleaded, “Can I get some sleep first? It’s too cold

problem,” Mike answered

she sat down on the chair and curled up into a

beside him and said, “You seem to be very familiar with this place. I wish to

shook his head and said, “No, no, that is too much. I only earn one soli a day most of

call me Old

a day. You deserve it,”

cup of coffee, when he suddenly sensed that something was wrong. He turned to look at the old lady who was curled up, asleep

due to the coffee, was pale again.

extended his hand to check the

him

out. Kohler tapped his chest thrice and said with a bitter

every day in East

least she filled her stomach and died in a warm place. I hope—heh heh, I hope it will be the same for me in

a moment before he said, “Kohler,

his chest thrice once more

boss glanced over but didn’t come over. It was as though it wasn’t something he needed to concern himself

uniform, carrying a baton

his hand and said, “That’s all there is to this. The three

blurted

obviously not very familiar with East

The policeman sneered.

in large numbers every day in East

his eyes and looked

people from around here. Who are you? What’s your

produced his press identification, and Klein said that he was a private detective responsible