Mystery: Two or three things between me and Tianzun God

Chapter 350: The noble lady's invitation to the party (3.2K)

In the afternoon.

After receiving the 800 pounds in cash handed over by Mr. Fool, Ron ended the ceremony. She habitually picked up the banknotes and counted them carefully to confirm that they were all real.

"In this era, there is no room for counterfeit money."

The silver-haired lady muttered, and then she saw her own ghost maid walking towards her, handing her an invitation.

"This is the invitation from Earl Hall's daughter to the ball tomorrow night."

There was no ups and downs in this short sentence, and the person who spoke it seemed like a machine.

Ron was used to the maid's speaking style. He took the invitation and looked at it carefully, then said casually:
"Servants are all about service. With your cold expression, someone who doesn't know me would think I'm a servant."

Sharon showed no expression when she heard this, but the look she gave when she looked at Ron's clothes and her own clothes mercilessly betrayed her inner thoughts.

Miss Wrathful Soul's appearance and temperament were not bad, and her skin was delicate and elastic. It was just because of the characteristics of the sequence pathway that her face looked very pale.

If her and Ron's clothes were swapped at this moment, Sharon would undoubtedly be the aloof and mature young lady, while Ron would be the lackey servant who "takes advantage of his master's power" and mocks others everywhere.

"Do you know any great nobles?" Sharon asked calmly, her tone still level.

A "god" that originally belonged to the hostile camp not only lived in Backlund openly, but also knew the daughter of a noble family. If anyone said there was no conspiracy, Sharon would be the first one to disbelieve it.

After such a long period of contact, she has probably grasped the character of this "master" in daily life. From the outside, he looks no different from an ordinary person.

Well, it should be not much different from ordinary people.

"Shouldn't I know him? I can see what you are thinking. You are suspecting that I have some conspiracy behind your back. I am really sad that you are so suspicious of your own master."

"Your camp should be the Southern Continent. You should be on the same side as me, right?"

"Faced with these guys who invaded our homeland, you still defend them and expect them to uphold justice?"

The silver-haired lady raised her eyebrows and saw through the servant's thoughts at a glance, because Miss Wrathful Soul's question was unnecessary and exposed her inner thoughts.

"This is different. The southern continent is full of blood, killing, hunger, and desire. This is true for both the Spiritual Cult that believes in the God of Death and the Rose School that believed in the Mother Tree of Desire."

"A strange and terrifying evil god, a bloody primitive sacrifice"

Sharon pursed her lips here and did not continue, because her meaning was already very clear. According to the existing conditions, no matter how you compare, the Seven Gods appear to be more "just".

"So, this is the problem you've been struggling with? Simply restraining yourself is not controllable. You should at least find someone to talk to and help you recover your mental state."

The all-knowing and all-seeing Infinite Wisdom did not accuse Miss Wrathful Soul of being unsteady in her stance, but instead teased her with a smile.

Then her blood-red eyes looked forward, and her pupils seemed to dilate.

"Let me ask you, should believing in evil gods make you a slave, and use your flesh and blood to build railways and factories?"

“You just need to answer yes or no!”

"..."

".Shouldn't."

Sharon was silent for a while, finally shook her head and uttered a few words hoarsely.

"You know that in order to avenge your teacher, you must first improve your strength, then gather helpers, and even "endure humiliation" and become my servant. But what about the people of the southern continent who are being dominated by hunger, poverty, war, and slavery?"

"You're lucky you have your teacher's protection, but they don't."

"From the beginning to the end, they were nothing more than abandoned children of fate. They were so unlucky that even the gods they believed in were a group of evil guys. They could only be dragged forward step by step and had no way to decide their own future."

"And now, there is a group of unfortunate people being bullied and accused of evil, unclean, and horrible crimes. Do you think they should open their mouths to defend themselves or pick up their swords to fight back?"

This "God of Time and Space" who has always been a bit unserious completely stunned Miss Wrathful Soul, because she had never thought that the other party actually had his own reasons and persistence.

I am not afraid of the evil god being powerful, I am just afraid of him being cultured!

Seeing Sharon silent, Ron walked up to her, patted her shoulder, and touched her neatly combed light blonde hair.

"No one is born cruel or evil. Everyone has a chance to start over, and I am giving them this chance..."

At this point, Ron paused, as if she realized there was a loophole in her words, so she looked up and pointed at Monocle who was watching the excitement from a distance.

"Except Him!"

Amon, who accepted the position of butler, was obviously stunned, and then he felt discriminated against and felt that Monger was insulted.

"Oh, thank you for the compliment!
He gritted his teeth, pushed up his crystal monocle, and admitted his mistake in anger.

What a joke. I, Amon, am the king of angels in ancient times. I am not like some psychological minor who would hit others without caring about his own dignity.

"Except you."

At this time, Sharon also came back to her senses. She pointed at Ron, whose bloodshot eyes widened slightly, jokingly, and there was a hint of "forced smile" in her tone.

"Gods cannot be defined!" "By the way, as my personal maid, you have to go to the ball with me tomorrow night, so you'd better manage your expression!"

Ron raised his head and skipped the topic which was a bit heavy for the maid.

Tuesday, foggy morning.

Klein sat at his dining table, breaking up the oatmeal bread he had bought and soaking it in milk, trying to improve the way he ate it.

In fact, I prefer soy milk and fried dough sticks, which are the tastes in my memory. Unfortunately, Roselle did not list these two items as palace dishes and pass them down.
Using a spoon, Klein quickly scooped up a piece of oatmeal bread that had just been covered in milk and immediately put it into his mouth. After just a little chewing, he could feel the flowing wheat-scented milk and the increasingly sweet aftertaste of the bread.

Not too soft or hard, with a moderate taste.

It took him a few minutes to prepare breakfast and a few more minutes to wash the dishes. Klein looked up at the clock and found that it was already past seven in the morning.

Without hesitating for too long, he immediately picked up his coat from the hanger, dressed neatly, and prepared to go to the East District, the factory area to investigate the conditions of each eligible factory.

He has been suffering from insomnia in recent days because of this matter. It is always exciting for an older single guy who has lived two lifetimes to start a business.

After going out and getting on a rented carriage, Klein spent two soli and successfully arrived at the door of a greasy coffee shop.

"Mr. Detective, you are finally here..."

As Klein was looking around, a slightly vague voice, as if there was phlegm in the throat, came from behind him.

"Old Kohler? I thought you had already gone to the dock. I was just about to leave and planned to come to see you this afternoon."

The great detective turned and looked back, seeing the middle-aged man in the greasy jacket.

"The pay for work in the morning and afternoon is the same. The dock workers in the morning will not compete with us for the afternoon work because they cannot work continuously for too long."

The middle-aged man laughed and seemed not to care about it, but his chattering words still betrayed his true thoughts.

"Mr. Detective, I have found out everything you asked me to find out, but you want to take responsibility for the backs of so many factories..."

Old Kohler paused for half a second before finally remembering the professional terminology used by the great detective.

"What's the point of background information? Some of those factories are controlled by gangs, and all the money they make is dirty money."

Old Kohler, who had lived in the East District for most of his life, once saw factory workers getting off the night shift when he was a homeless person.

In the darkness of the night, under the crimson moonlight, he actually felt that there was no essential difference between them.

"Nothing, my friend is going to open a factory to make bicycles, uh, you can think of it as small horse-drawn carriages."

"She is from another place and is not familiar with Backlund, so she needs me to help her investigate to avoid any troubles hidden behind it that are difficult to deal with."

In fact, when faced with trouble, Ron would only rush forward to deal with the troublemaker, and with our identities, it would be best for us not to make things worse...

Thoughts flashed through his mind, and Klein's brown eyes swept across Old Kohler's rough, wrinkled face, as well as his back that was hunched over from long-term physical labor.

He hesitated for half a second, then said in an uncertain tone:

"Maybe after the factory is opened, I can introduce you to some easy work there. I'll also have some shares in it."

"Mr. Detective, is this true!?"

When Old Kohler heard this, his throat moved immediately and he couldn't wait to speak in surprise.

He is already very old, and he probably won't be able to work at the dock for many more years. By then he will be back to having no income. In this case, it is a rare opportunity to have a job that allows him to make a living, even if it is just guarding the factory gate.

"I can only say it's possible. You know, opening a factory is not an easy thing. It requires the smooth flow of various links to ensure that things can go on."

Klein didn't say anything final. Out of instinctive caution, he left a lot of room.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Detective. You have helped me so much. If it weren't for you, I would probably still be chased back and forth by the police."

Even though the gentleman opposite him only had a plan, Old Kohler still believed in his words.

The middle-aged man cleared his throat, then came to a corner of the Greasy Café with Klein and told him the news he had found out.

"I heard that there are thirteen steel mills in the East District, ten of which are said to be state-owned and all of which have shares owned by the royal family. Only three belong to the rich and nobles."

"They are all small and have recently started to undergo massive layoffs, according to steelworkers who were laid off at the docks."

Layoffs means the company is going bankrupt?
Klein muttered in his heart and nodded in a professional manner.

"But there is one that is different from the other two. They are the property of the Rogge Party. You should know the Rogge Party, right? It is a well-known gang in the entire East District and has just risen in recent months."

Rogge Party. Sounds a bit familiar.
Klein frowned slightly. As a "fortune teller", he had a strong spiritual intuition. As long as he was familiar with it, it meant that he must have heard of this gang.

He did not rely on divination, but began to ponder based on his memory. After more than ten seconds, he finally remembered where he had heard about the Rogge Party.

That was a few days ago, when the gangster who knew the law very well reported him, a private detective, for illegal possession of guns in the East District!

(End of this chapter)