Shadow Apostle

Horst opened his eyes suddenly and woke up from the nightmare with a cold sweat.

All night, he was immersed in the most terrifying nightmare.

The most critical problem is that he doesn't know what he dreamed about.

It's not that I don't remember, it's that I don't know at all.

It was an incomprehensible, bizarre dream.

Countless strange images repeatedly impacted his consciousness in the dream.

Just as he saw the vortex in the old lady's eyes again.

At that moment, Horst still couldn't understand what he saw through the vortex, or in other words, this time he couldn't understand what Lloyd allowed him to see.

Because, while he understood that he was 'seeing' this state, the huge impact had almost destroyed his consciousness.

It has nothing to do with good or evil, or any position.

It's just a simple impact of high levels on low levels.

Just the simple meaning of "existence" has natural destructive power.

It will not change due to human will.

Not better, not worse.

Such is the price of confronting mystery.

Horst felt strange, cold, and twisted.

No, even feeling this phenomenon is beyond the scope of understanding.

By the time he had recovered his composure from the shock, the countess had fallen back on the bed.

His breath was weak and he was near death.

And in his body, whether it was his brain or the depths of his soul, there was an aura that he couldn't understand.

Miss Burnt also woke up from a coma, and after accepting everything, she fell into a rather complicated grief.

But the next occasion was no longer suitable for an outsider to come forward.

After comforting the sad Jessica, Horst asked the coachman to return him to Vila Street.

Then there was the impact of nightmares all night, and I woke up from nightmares sweating profusely countless times.

It was not until dawn that the shock gradually dissipated, allowing him to sleep peacefully for a few hours.

"Phew, what a strong impact."

Rubbing his aching forehead, Horst was not too nervous.

Because he could sense that the breath was not an attack.

But a gift.

The breath of Hades.

It can make all undead and mysterious aliens feel close to each other, and will not actively attack creatures contaminated with aura.

It was a gift from the sky. It was probably because Lloyd hated the Lord of Deceiver Lyle and the black-robed bishop was playing with his sacrifice ceremony, so he came to give him a gift.

It was a gift very characteristic of Hades, but the way of giving it was too rough.

Probably it was my previous behavior of rolling on his altar that made him very satisfied.

With this thing, if I encounter those mysteries related to death in the future, such as skeletons, zombies, ghouls, etc., I will... what the hell am I thinking.

After lightly slapping himself twice, Horst sat up. When he raised his hand, he saw beef soup hanging on his wrist.

The little thing didn't shrink back last night and hung outside all night.

Horst reached out and rubbed it, and the little thing wrapped around his fingers skillfully.

I feel a little tired. It seems that I spent too much in less than a minute last night.

"It seems that you are also a big shot in the fantasy world. Even Hades knows about you, but who are you looking for? Is it Abigail?"

Wrap the beef soup around your fingers a few times and tie a bow for yourself.

"Is it really like what Lloyd said, that I am the host of the parasite?"

The tentacles had been untied and were rolling lazily in Horst's hands.

"Regardless of whether it is true or not, it seems that you did not protect me less even when I didn't know about it. Thank you. I will treat you to beef tonight to replenish your consumption."

The soft beef soup immediately stood up in the palm of the hand, and then pop-pop, another seven sticks stretched out from the wrist.

Eight small tentacles were lined up in a row, facing Horst neatly.

Gee, my life is too curious.

Horst clicked his fingers and climbed out of bed excitedly.

You can't sleep in late. You have to report mysterious things to the princess and K in the afternoon, but there are more important things to do in the morning.

Wow.

Opening the curtains forcefully, the sun was shining brightly outside.

It's a rare good weather without haze. Through the clear blue sky, you can even see the Tower of Justice in the distance.

Just right.

After taking off his pajamas and putting on coarse work clothes, and hiding the holes in the work clothes, Horst gathered all of 103's personal belongings together.

All thrown into room 102.

That’s right, move.

103, which has only one small room, is definitely not suitable for running an office. The suite in 102 is the most suitable.

Originally, Mr. William's personal belongings had been taken away by Mrs. Jennifer in the basement. Horst opened the door, took off his hat, and stood there for a full minute before walking in.

This will be my new home from now on.

Throwing away his few luggage, Horst walked around the room happily.

The three sofas are nice, and they also come with a coffee table. When it opens in the future, this will be the place to receive guests.

Hmm, there's a hole on the side, I'll cover it with something later, no, I have a lot of money now, um... I'll ask a tailor to sew it up later.

The bookcase is nice, it actually has a glass door, and there is a place to put customer information.

Gee, Mr. William was so extravagant before, he even had a fireplace.

Seeing that winter is coming, do you want to prepare some firewood? What a happy worry. Last year I could only rely on shaking.

You can hang some decorations on the door above the fireplace, and you can also use it to practice shooting. Then Mrs. Jennifer will use me to practice shooting, perfect.

Horst knocked on his head to calm himself down, but then his eyes lit up.

There is actually a small kitchen. No wonder Mr. William was rarely seen cooking in the public kitchen before.

The kitchen is not big, with a window leading to the outside patio, a small stove, and an evil gas meter fixed on the pipe.

It's actually coin-operated. This stingy Mrs. Jennifer is simply more greedy for money than the time traveler.

Forget it, the kitchen can be used when necessary. It’s not bad to eat hometown food once in a while. I...huh?

Horst was stunned.

Because he saw the two large pots brought back from Mrs. Andorra's restaurant floating in from the door.

Bang.

He piled himself into a corner.

what's the situation?

Only then did Horst notice that two small tentacles were holding the cauldron below and wriggling staggeringly from the outside.

ha? Are you trying to help? And you also know that this thing should be placed here?

After rubbing the two small tentacles with interest, Horst looked at the luggage in the room.

Go, help me put the clothes in the cupboard.

However, the little tentacle was completely unmoved, crawling and squirming on its own side, amusing itself.

useless.

Horst curled his lips in disappointment, but he happened to see his treasured kerosene stove. This one is also...

Then I saw the beef soup crawling over quickly, lifted it around the kerosene stove, and moved it all the way back to the kitchen.

You...you only recognize things related to food, right?

You are a being who has just fought against gods. Can you pursue it a little bit?

So, the beef soup got into the soup pot with great pursuit.

Horst sighed and simply turned his head and pretended not to notice. There were still so many luggage to pack anyway.

Moving is definitely a physical job, but fortunately Horst doesn’t have many things.

In less than two hours, the room was completely new.

It's just too empty. It seems like we need to purchase some daily necessities as soon as possible to make this place fuller.

But the bedroom was okay, it was about the same size as 103, and the layout was almost the same. Horst skillfully opened the closet, pushed aside the few clothes inside, and moved a heavy safe into the cabinet.

Opening the safe, there were a few bullets and two empty bottles scattered inside. Apart from that, all that was left was his business license and dangerous goods possession license.

People in the Princess Area would hardly steal such dangerous items, as long as they don't put guns in them.

Sighing, Horst closed the box and patted the bulging money bag.

It's time to find a new owner for you, the cutest Georges.

But it’s not bad, at least I can live like a normal person.

Although the days of being an awakened person are full of crises, it is indeed the right path for me.

Thinking of his previous shabbyness and desolation, Horst shook his head.

Then welcome the new life.

Horst opened the bedroom curtains and let the outside in...

An old face full of wrinkles appeared outside the window.

The two sides looked at each other through the window for three seconds.

Horst pulled the curtains back again with an expressionless expression.

The princess area is really scary. How come you can see the landlord just by opening the curtains?

"Open the curtains or I'll shoot."

The windows are so well insulated that I couldn't hear a thing.

"The compensation will be paid out of your rent."

Wow.

The curtains were opened again. Horst opened the window and pretended to be sleepy: "It's Mrs. Jennifer. I thought I had another nightmare. Is something okay?"

"Let me see, have you finished moving?"

Mrs. Jennifer looked into the room and threw in two boards.

"A carpenter sent this over yesterday and said it was custom-made for you."

One big and one small, two name tags.

Horst Drom Detective Agency.

"That's right, mine." Horst patted the name tag, "In the future, when I open an office here, I will often cause you trouble. I apologize in advance."

The old lady glared at him and stretched out her hand: "Bring the key to 103."

"Here, here." Horst took out the key and threw it over, "He said he would send it to you later, but he is so urgent."

"By the time you give me the keys, all the new tenants will have already run away."

"Hmm? 103 is going to have a new tenant so soon?"

Horst thought of the hole under the bed and smiled dryly, avoiding Mrs. Jennifer's sight. Sure enough, on the street not far from her, a gentleman in dark blue formalwear was waiting.

As if sensing Horst's gaze, the gentleman took off his hat and bowed to Horst.

Horst also nodded, but his expression was a little stiff.

He remembered this man and it was hard to forget.

Because he has never met such a beautiful man.

Yes, it was the foreigner who couldn't speak Norlandic clearly that he met at the night market.

The man who bought contraband.

Such a coincidence?

Horst's smile was quite subtle.

The new beginning doesn't seem so smooth.

What I wrote before was a little off, and now the progress of the main plot has almost caught up, but the daily routine is still seriously lacking. I have no choice but to focus too much on it, otherwise I won’t be able to watch it. I’ll insert it as appropriate. I feel like I'm back on track now, well, at least partially.

Damn it, how should I write everyday articles to be interesting?