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.

after, he committed suicide for

though it wasn’t something that

felt a deep sense

is more lamentable than a dead heart… He suddenly recalled the saying he had

prohibited by the Churches, but it was a punishable

them turning into a water ghost. Second, the suicider often had very abnormal emotions. Thus, under

certain objects that were around after them after their deaths would carry strange curses that harmed

was probably where the Misfortune Cloth Puppet behind Tingen City’s Chanis Gate came

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

course, this seemed ridiculous to Klein. How could a suicider be afraid of

was taking notes, he was about to say something when

we’ll talk later.” Mike

the food in

she quickly finished her

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

Mike answered

lady thanked him gratefully a few times before she sat down on the chair and curled up into a ball as

seem to be very familiar with this place. I wish to hire you as our guide. How’s three soli

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

me Old

soli a day. You deserve

when he suddenly sensed that something was wrong. He turned

to the coffee, was

and subconsciously extended his

Kohler looked at him in surprise,

his chest thrice and said with a bitter smile, “I knew

things happen every day

I hope—heh heh, I hope it will be the same

for a moment before he said, “Kohler,

more and ran out of the coffee

come over. It was as though

policeman in a black-and-white checkered uniform,

said, “That’s all there is to this. The three of you can leave

Mike blurted out in

not very familiar

The policeman sneered.

numbers every day in East

and looked at

like people from around here. Who are you?

press identification, and Klein said that he was a