Lord of the Mysteries 2: Circle of Inevitability

died!

Although Lumian was mentally prepared, he still couldn't accept it.

When he left the clinic, Ruel had obviously recovered and escaped the fate of death. How could he die suddenly?

Lumian slowly stepped into room 307 and set his sights on the bed.

Ruel was lying there, his skin covered with rotten wounds oozing yellow water one after another. His face was sallow and pale, and there was no movement at all. His eyes were wide open, and there was a little vomit around his mouth.

After looking into the eyes that were filled with confusion, pain and unwillingness for a few seconds, Lumian asked in a deep voice: "When did he die?"

Michelle's pale hair seemed to have lost its luster. She slowly shook her head and said, "I was too sleepy and fell asleep. When I woke up, he was already dead."

"Did he reply to 302 before going to bed?" Lumian asked.

"No, he just went to the bathroom near 302, and I went there too." Michelle's voice was obviously very deep, but it gave Lumian a very erratic feeling, as if her soul had already Part of it is not in the body.

They all went to that bathroom. One had a recurrence of his "strange disease" and the other had nothing. Lumian frowned and planned to go to the bathroom to take a look. If there's nothing wrong there, the chances are pretty high that there's something unusual about Mrs. Mitchell.

When Lumian left room 307 and walked toward the bathroom along the dimly lit corridor, Michelle was still kneeling in front of the bed, sobbing quietly and paying no attention to what other people were doing. Because there is a regular cleaning lady, the bathroom on the third floor is no longer as dirty as before. Although there will inevitably be stains and garbage after a day of use, it can at least provide a place for civilized people to stay.

Lumian glanced around, using the crimson moonlight shining through the window, and saw the toilet and sink, the rusty water pipes on the surface, and the mirror reflecting his silhouette. He observed carefully for a while and found a white silk handkerchief hanging on the pipe in a hidden corner.

Just by distinguishing it with the naked eye, Lumian believed that it did not belong to most of the current tenants of the Golden Rooster Hotel, because it was made of excellent material, elegant embroidery, and must be expensive.

Are there outsiders? Lumian's first reaction was to pick up the silk handkerchief for a more detailed examination, but then he remembered the picture of Mr. Ruhl's body festering when he suddenly fell ill, and he forcibly controlled himself.

As soon as his thoughts flashed, he left the bathroom, walked back to room 307, and asked Mrs. Michelle, who was still sobbing: "Do you know whose handkerchief belongs to the bathroom?"

Michelle was confused and sad, and answered purely instinctively: "It's Ruhl's."

Mr. Rule's? Lumian felt surprised, but also felt that it was indeed the case. He asked, "Where did it come from?"

Mrs. Michel looked at the hideous dead Ruhr, and said in a dream: "I don't know which gentleman or lady threw it out of the garbage I picked up tonight." It was wrapped in a mouthful of phlegm and was not damaged. Ruhr I washed it and put it on my body, intending to sell it as a second-hand product instead of recycling it as garbage.

"After you said there might be something dirty in that pile of garbage, Ruhl took it out and hid it in the bathroom. He didn't dare to go back to 302."

Phlegm... Lumian felt like he had found the source of the problem.

He exhaled slowly and said, "Did Mr. Ruhl touch that handkerchief again? Did you?"

"I don't know." Mrs. Michelle shook her head slowly, "I haven't touched the bathroom where he went by himself."

Sure enough... Lumian took out his gloves and put them on, went to the bathroom again, used "fallen mercury" to pick up the white handkerchiefs made of silk, put them into the white paper he carried with him, and folded them .

During the whole process, he was careful not to touch the handkerchief directly.

After doing this, Lumian wiped the blade of "Corrupted Mercury" with another piece of white paper, threw the paper ball into the toilet, and flushed it after it softened due to soaking. As soon as he walked out of the bathroom, he saw Mrs. Michelle standing quietly at the door of Room 307, like a ghost lingering in the darkness.

Seeing Lumian approaching her, the white-haired old lady showed a pleading expression: "It's almost dawn, Mr. Charles, can you help me carry Ruhr back to 302?" Her voice was still like balderdash.

Lumian was stunned for a moment and was silent for five or six seconds before saying: "Okay."

He immediately entered Room 307, wrapped Mr. Ruhl in the bed sheets, and carried him behind him. Within a few steps, Lumian placed the body on the bed in Room 302.

Mrs. Michel, who squeezed through the garbage pile, thanked her profusely, then wandered to the wooden table like a sleepwalker and opened the curtains. It was close to six o'clock in the morning, and a ray of morning light lit up on the horizon, making the crimson moonlight fade a lot. Michelle listened to the sounds of vendors from the other side of the hotel and stared at Ruel deeply. Lumian exited Room 302 and returned to the corridor where the light could not reach. He leaned against the wall and stood silently. It didn't ruin the quiet scene.

A few minutes passed when Mrs. Mitchell suddenly began to stir.

She rummaged around the room to find more bills and coins, then rushed out of the room and downstairs.

Lumian did not follow, raised his right foot, stepped back on the wall, and leaned against the wall sleeping in the darkness.

Time passed by, and Mrs. Michelle came back with a lot of things.

There was red wine in a bottle, a grilled fish, bacon, meatloaf, refried beans, hot sauce, and apples.

Without looking at Lumian, Mrs. Michel walked into Room 302 and sat down on the floor beside the bed, placing all the food next to the rotting corpse.

She thought for a while, stood up again, and lit the carbide lamp on the wooden table, filling the room with light. Mrs. Michel fell to the ground again, picked up the piece of meat pie, brought it to Ruel's mouth, and said with a smile: "Don't you want to eat meat pie lately? I'll buy it for you today."

After letting the corpse's lips become glossy, Mrs. Michelle also took a bite of the meat pie and said with her eyes closed: "It's so delicious. How long have we not eaten? Two weeks, right?"

After taking a few bites of the meatloaf, Mrs. Michelle held the bottle of red wine and took a sip. She said coquettishly: "Old man, our vines have produced fruit and turned into red wine. We don't have to worry about what to do in the future."

While chattering to Rule's body, she drank heavily and ate various foods.

Lumian stood outside the door in the darkness, leaning against the wall, quietly staring inside without leaving or entering.

Soon, Mrs. Michel's drunkenness became stronger, and she, a former barmaid, sang loudly: "Trier covered with gold;" a dance that lasted until dawn;

"A fat roasted chicken;" like a castle cake;

"Waiters wearing bow ties shuttled among the guests;" stepping on cheerful dance steps;

“In the midst of them, O my beloved;”In the midst of them;

"This is the city of joy, this is eternal Trier."

At this point, Mrs. Michel stood up, staggered to the wooden table, and put the pile of banknotes on her body in front of the carbide lamp.

In an instant, all the cash was set on fire.

It fell on the table, emitting a bright yellowish firelight.

Mrs. Michel opened her arms and shouted: "This is the city of joy, this is eternal Trier."

She immediately took the rope tied to the sack, climbed onto the wooden table, tied the rope to the window frame, and tied a tight knot.

In the light of the fire, Mrs. Michel turned around, facing Rule on the bed, put her neck into the knot, and then bent her legs.

The knot sank heavily, and Mrs. Mitchell's eyes bulged a little.

The sky outside the window became brighter again, and one-third of the corridor was dimly lit. Lumian leaned against the wall that was still shrouded in darkness, with his hands in his pockets, his right foot propped back, and he stared expressionlessly at the person hanging by the window. Mrs. Michel on the frame watched her mouth gradually open, her expression became painful, and her legs were bent up until she died.

The body swayed slightly in the morning light.

At 6:35 in the morning, inside Apartment 601, No. 3 Baiyi Street.

Franka, who was woken up by the knock on the door, rubbed her flaxen hair in pain: "I only slept for three hours, three hours."

"Please help me take a look at what's inside. Is there anything wrong with it?" Lumian seemed not to hear Franka's accusation and took out the handkerchief wrapped in white paper. Be careful, it can spread disease. ""disease? "Franka suddenly woke up, returned to the room, and put on a pair of translucent light yellow gloves made of rubber.

She very carefully opened the outer paper, took out the silk handkerchief inside, and placed it on the glass coffee table.

After tapping her teeth a few times and observing carefully for a while, Franka said with a solemn expression: "There is something wrong. There are many small but active spirits remaining on it, which belong to the same type.

"I suspect it is a pathogen, spread through skin contact or even blood exchange. According to your description, it is not very contagious."

Lumian didn't understand what a pathogen was, but he could probably figure out what Franka wanted to express.

He was silent for a moment and said, "Can you find out who the owner of this handkerchief is?"

"No problem, there is a powerful medium here. As long as he does not do anti-divination, or the level of anti-divination is not high enough, I can find it." As he spoke, a layer of black appeared on Franka's rubber gloves. flame.

After finishing "cleaning", she took off her gloves, took out a cosmetic mirror, pressed her left palm on top of the handkerchief, and gently stroked the mirror surface with her right hand.

She recited a few mantras in a low voice, and her eyes became deep.

She began to repeat the divination phrase: "The owner of this handkerchief, the owner of this handkerchief."

After several times, the mirror glowed with water, and a figure was reflected in the darkness. He was a young man with a thin build and a pale complexion who seemed unhealthy.

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