Shadow Apostle

"Hi beautiful Linda."

Horst had long forgotten about the lady he brought in. Anyway, there would be people peeking in every time he came in, so he didn’t have to worry about anything going wrong. At this time, he was approaching the bar and pushing a silver Luca towards the male bartender in a black vest:

"Two flaming tentacles."

"I'm finally rich, Horst. I'm willing to drink such an expensive wine." Linda tossed over a half-silver Luca coin, and then placed two wine glasses in front of Horst, "But you can't bear it. Do you want this thing? I’m going to get drunk from smelling it.”

"Then smell it quickly and I'll have a chance." Horst winked at the girl, picked up the glass and left, "I just saved a woman who doesn't look very smart. This is her reward for gratitude. I But don’t drink it, I’m not interested in breathing fire yet, so I gave it away and left.”

Holding the wine glass, Horst walked around and finally got into a corner of the bar. There was a table in the shadows, and a man in a hooded robe sat here mysteriously.

In fact, everyone knows him, Marvin, a devout believer in Augustus, the Lord of Flames and Craftsmen, Rank 1 of the Flame Church, and like Monica, also a soul awakener.

Really woke, not like most people in the bar.

The people in the bar have awakened some characteristics just because they have been exposed to the mystery, good luck or misfortune, such as running faster and being more powerful. From then on, their fate has been entangled with the mystery, and they cannot be separated for life. Falling deeper and deeper into the mysterious world until death comes.

Of course, it is not ruled out that there are people whose characteristics just make Mystery want to chase him even more. This person has become a benchmark in the bar.

The real awakened ones are all-round soul awakenings, possessing complete and more magical special powers. Of course, they are also more mysterious. Even these people in the tavern have not seen many.

Marvin is an exception.

Everyone sees him every day.

He usually repairs weapons and equipment for everyone in the bar when he has nothing to do, which makes everyone love and hate him.

Because his technical level is absolutely top-notch.

But the fees are definitely top-notch.

"You don't have to repair it if it's too expensive, dear Mr. Horst." The voice under the cloak was old and elegant, "I happen to be a little tired today."

"You see, fate is such a wonderful thing." Horst offered two glasses of wine with a smile on his face, "I just ordered your favorite flaming tentacles, just to refresh you."

"Hmph, the people of the Flame don't like those magic sticks who peep into fate, let alone their master, but..."

Marvin picked up one of the glasses and drank it in one gulp, then raised his finger at Horst.

Horst immediately presented the silver revolver.

"Poor Serena, did you soak her in the water?"

"Uh..." Horst looked away guiltily.

"It's okay to just soak her in water, but she actually shot her forcefully. I really regret selling her to you. Ten...forget it, for the sake of these two glasses of wine, I'll charge you five Lukas."

The corners of Horst's mouth trembled, and even his smile was a little stiff. He gritted his teeth and squeezed out one word: "Okay..."

"Supposedly you have made money several times, why are you still so poor?"

Marvin slowly opened his small bag, and dozens of tools were neatly placed in the bag.

Horst could only smile bitterly.

He did make some money over the year, but that was in the eyes of others.

In fact, he had an ulterior expense that was draining his pockets like a bottomless pit.

All I can say is that everything comes at a price.

He couldn't express his pain.

Fortunately, Marvin didn't really want to know, so he turned on the gas lamp on the wall behind him.

With a low roar of gas flowing in the metal pipes on the wall, the light came on, illuminating the revolver that had been opened on the table.

Even though he had seen it before, Horst still held his breath.

The structure inside is not at all the same as the gun structure on Earth before.

There are dozens or even hundreds of small mechanical structures distributed inside Serena, with densely packed gears interlocking with each other, as detailed as a piece of exquisite art.

The power of gunpowder in this world is hard to describe. If you want enough power, you must rely on the kinetic energy provided by steam and machinery in the firearm itself.

Marvin's hands moved quickly around the pistol at a speed that Horst could not understand, and from time to time he pried or installed several parts from the gun body.

Every movement was incredibly precise, almost impossible for humans to do.

"Is this the ability of an awakened person?" Horst asked thoughtfully: "Master Marvin, I heard that you are a real level 1 soul awakened person. Is it true?"

"Want to get in touch with the mystery in depth?" Marvin paused and glanced back at him, "That's not a good thing."

"Um?"

"Awakening is to extract strength and ability beyond ordinary people from the soul. What do you think will be the good ending? As long as you make a mistake, madness is the best ending. If it were not to fight against the mystery from the fantasy world, no one would be willing to let themselves go You are always under the threat of going crazy. Moreover, once you get too entangled with the mystery, you often have to face the real mystery, especially for someone with special luck like you."

"Wait, what are you talking about the real mystery? Isn't what I'm facing now included?"

"What you people usually deal with are only some cursed objects and puppets affected by mysterious things, and you will not be exposed to the real mysteries from the fantasy world."

Marvin stopped what he was doing and said in a tone cold enough to freeze the air:

"Those are chaotic, twisted, crazy weird and weird. I have seen too many powerful people with unlimited futures, vulnerable to the real mystery, swallowed up, assimilated, twisted, and turned into crazy. The twisted body was finally solved by his former companions."

The sound was not loud, but Horst felt a chill creeping up his back, and a hoarse, low whisper of terror seemed to ring in his ears.

"So, do you think you have really thought it through? Once you touch the mystery, there is no way back, Mr. Horst."

"Master Marvin, do you know how many mysterious incidents I have encountered in the past year? Thirty-seven times." Horst sighed, "Eleven of them I was only a little bit close to death. Do you think I should count on it? How can you be so lucky for the thirty-eighth time? Not to mention..."

As he spoke, Horst touched his stomach, as if there was still a dull pain there.

"Okay, but if you don't have devout faith, the right path is hopeless. As for other paths, there may still be some incomplete awakening methods in some ancient families or secret institutions. Those are all those from the previous era. Things left behind by the fallen gods. If you are interested, go look for them. If you find the right one, it will be an opportunity."

"Mr. Horst, Mr. Horst."

Marvin's words made Horst a little dazed. When he came back to his senses, he heard a call from behind.

Looking back, a gray-haired middle-aged man wearing a shirt, vest and a single-sided glasses walked over from behind.

"Mr. White, nice to meet you."

As soon as he saw this person, Horst immediately smiled and took a few steps forward to hold the other person's hand.

This is Swain White, the boss of Flametongues.

Of course, this is not important. What is important is that he often releases some commissioned tasks transferred from other semi-official organizations, and the commissions are often quite attractive.

Food and clothing parents.

"I heard that you completed another bounty and successfully survived from Monica? Congratulations. Are you free now? Come to my room to talk."

"Yes, how could it not be." In the blink of an eye, Horst had already put on his hat and picked up his cane, "Master Marvin, I..."

"Go ahead and remember to come back for Serena later."

Horst nodded, followed Swain around to the back area of ​​the bar, stood directly on a platform in the corner, and watched Swain push the putter aside.

Click, click, click, and the subtle sound of gears clashing came from under the platform.

Then there was a hissing sound from the pipes on the wall, and several half-exposed gears began to rotate and bite each other, making a crisp collision sound.

The platform suddenly shook, and then slowly sank, and the surrounding area was plunged into darkness. Only the gas lamps in the four corners were still dancing with a faint light.

"There was a little trouble." Sven White whispered softly on the swaying elevator. "A very strange murder occurred in Burnt Manor in the suburbs."

"The murder case is coming to the police. Why are they looking for us? Is it related to the mystery? Then we should also look for the scarecrow."

"You don't know the Burnt family?" Swain's sympathetic eyes were a bit dazzling. "They are still relatively famous. There was only one queen, three earls, and five viscounts in the family. Although they have declined in the past hundred years, , but the family that has given birth to a queen still represents the face of the Nordland royal family. If such a big thing happens, they do not want to investigate through open channels."

"Oh, I understand. Especially if the identity of the murderer is found to be particularly sensitive in the end, there is still room for maneuver without going through official channels."

"Actually, if it is just an ordinary case, you can go to the police and go through the royal family channels." Swain shook his head and said, "But the problem is that this case may not be ordinary. If we go through the police channels, we will definitely end up handing over the case. If it comes to the Catcher in the Rye, they may not be willing to cooperate.”

Horst nodded: "So?"

"So they hope to ask someone to find out the truth first. If there is nothing to hide, the police will intervene. Otherwise, they will cover up the sensitive content first and then call the police." Swain stared at Horst and asked, "Three days, You have three days, are you willing to accept this commission? The price is easy to negotiate."

"I need more knowledge before I can decide."

"Impossible, more information can only be accessed by you after you accept the commission." The platform shook again and then stopped. A door opened in front of the two people, and the lights behind the door were bright. Swain walked in first and said without looking back, "Think it over carefully, Mr. Horst. If you are willing to accept it, come in and sit down."

Horst squinted his eyes and pondered for a while, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the elevator.

Outside is a Victorian-style office, bright and luxuriously decorated, without any sense of darkness and cramped underground.

Horst sat down on the sofa slowly. Swain showed no surprise at all. He had already taken out a thick folder from the drawer and put it on the coffee table: "Want something to drink? You're welcome."

"Dunst."

It was a legendary treasure that was quite expensive. It was said that a small cup cost five silver Lucca, and it was still very expensive.

"You're so rude."

Swain sighed, took out an unpackaged wine bottle from the wine cabinet, and poured a small glass.

"Didn't I follow your orders, boss?" Horst's eyes lit up, "Is this really true?"

"You go ahead and take a look, I'll be right back."

Swain pointed at the folder, stood up and walked out from the other door. Horst picked up the folder without thinking.

The moment he touched the folder, his hand suddenly trembled, his heart beat violently, and a cold wind seemed to blow behind him. At the same time, his eyes blurred, and everything around him seemed to be stained with a layer of blood red.

The vision only lasted for a moment, and Horst returned to normal.

Everything is just an illusion.

illusion? People who believe in illusions in a mysterious world often make people worry-free.

Most of them don't even need a funeral.

Recalling the strange and strange phenomenon that he had never seen before, Horst gently stroked the hard cover of the folder with his fingers, his eyes twinkling in his squinted eyes.

"Old nobles, old nobles, hey, I have no way to turn back."

After muttering a few words, Horst gritted his teeth and opened the folder.

There are many new black and white photos inside.

The top few pictures show several rooms, which are elegant and noble, well-decorated, and full of the heritage of old aristocrats.

However, there were large dark patches scattered everywhere on the furniture, on the floor, on the walls, on the roof.

There were traces of blood.

There were no bodies, but blood stains covered several different rooms.

The next few photos were a few messy notes. The contents could not be seen clearly in the photos, but as soon as he saw the photos, Horst felt the hair on the back of his neck explode.

Especially the photo of the last note, the only one in which the handwriting can be clearly seen, gave Horst the most creepy feeling.

"They're everywhere."

"Here they come."

"Hiss..." Horst took a breath of air, slammed the folder, and leaned on the sofa in a daze. At this time, the door knocked softly, and Sven White happened to come back.

"You really found a good commission for me, Mr. White." Horst rubbed his forehead and sighed, "This thing... huh?"

Horst was stunned. He discovered that Swain did not come back by himself, but that there was someone behind him.

Wearing a veiled hat, a long green skirt, and holding an exquisite folding fan.

The unexpected visitor was staring at Horst in surprise with his eyes wide open and his mouth slightly open.

Horst's only thought was a word from his past life.

The road between enemies is narrow.