Mystery: From the Shadow World

Chapter 106 Are you rebelling?

"Ok?"

At night, a doubtful whisper was heard.

Philip, who had just returned to 17 Braun Street, had just closed the door before turning to look at the skeleton messenger holding a letter. After a brief silence, he pointed at himself and asked, "Are you sure this is for me?"

The tall skeleton messenger tilted his head slightly when he heard this, then loosened his fingers and let the envelope slowly float to Philip with the cold breath, and was caught by the latter in time with his hands.

It does seem so, but this guy is a bit disrespectful to me. Philip complained in his heart, and after waving goodbye to the messenger who was gradually disappearing, he opened the envelope and read it.

"Philip, I'm Klein."

Philip looked at the first sentence on the paper, closed his eyes, rubbed his forehead, and muttered to himself in a daze: "Strange, how can there be fraud these days? The methods are a bit sophisticated."

As he muttered to himself, his tightly closed eyes opened a crack and he carefully checked several times. After discovering that the handwriting on the entire piece of paper was similar to Klein's memory and that he could not detect any elements of hallucination or hypnosis, he gradually accepted reality.

The content of the letter was simple. Apart from the greetings and condolences to Philip and Azik, all the other words clearly expressed one message -

I have no money, help, help, help.

Philip thought of the man climbing out of the coffin and using the gold coin he had left behind to save money and come to Backlund. He couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle, and the tension that had been hidden in his heart also eased a lot.

Let me think, how can I provide relief? Should I just give him money? No, the thought of being fooled by this guy makes me feel a little unhappy. I have to squeeze him. Philip pinched his chin, and his sapphire eyes reflected the warm light of the gas lamp.

Then, he smiled suddenly, and had the answer in his heart. Then, without stopping, after briefly tidying up the living room, he immediately walked into the study and began to write a reply to the other party.

Ten minutes later.

It's done. Well, let's roughly calculate the expenses of this guy. I'd better give him a little. If he comes here with unkempt hair and dirty appearance, he will not be able to withstand the inspection in the future, and I will be the one who suffers.

After thinking it over carefully, he added another note worth £1 and made a note on the new balance, asking the other party to take good care of it.

The skeleton messenger's head poked out from the ground, and its eye sockets burning with black flames looked at the letter handed over by Philip. After a few seconds of silence, he reached out his hand, picked up the letter, and left.

Philip was about to breathe a sigh of relief, but soon his expression became a little strange. He then opened the box he brought back, and inside was the gift he bought on this trip, the "Bloodthirsty Heart".

This broken thing, can it be useless?

Philip thought with some worry.

At the party hosted by Mr. A in Queens, this kind of item that can give the holder the ability to fly is bound to be very popular. I believe that many people will be interested in buying it, but he is still a little reluctant. After all, he himself needs this ability now.

Philip held the translucent heart in his hand, then walked to the window and let the crimson moonlight fall on it. The flashing red dots brought with them a lingering tingling sensation, causing black hair to grow on the back of his hand again.

Undeterred, Philip retrieved his silver knife and skillfully slashed his wrist. He then placed the wound over his heart, letting the crimson blood flow onto the "bloodthirsty heart." However, the heart seemed to have life, slowly wriggling at a barely perceptible speed. With this seemingly resistance, only a small amount of Philip's blood was absorbed, the rest flowing down his palm and onto the ground.

Philip fell into a brief silence.

He pinched his chin, frowned slightly, and was trying to make a choice about this unlucky thing, but his eyes suddenly looked at the crimson moonlight falling on the ground, and his mind suddenly recalled some of the difficulties he had experienced in the past.

Good job! Keep going!

Seeing that the blood flowing from his wrist was still being rejected, Philip simply put the "Bloodthirsty Eye" directly on the table, and then used the water cup he usually kept in the study to catch his precious blood, ready to grind it with this unlucky thing.

After the dizziness and weakness subsided a little, the wound on his wrist had healed. Philip looked at the water cup and found that it was half filled with blood. He immediately began to plan.

He held the "Bloodthirsty Eye" in one hand, dipped the fingertips of the other hand into the blood in the cup, and smeared it vigorously on the translucent heart, trying to cover its entire body.

There are only about two or three drops each time, and it is almost impossible to seep out, so it can only stay on it. No matter how unwilling it is, it can only absorb the blood cleanly.

I just don't believe it. No matter what it is, just let me drink it if it won't hurt me. I don't even indulge myself, so how can I indulge you? Thinking of what he had experienced before, Philip felt a little indignant.

However, the doctrine of temperance that was almost engraved in his mind still made him subconsciously close his eyes, control the growth of negative emotions, and calmly carry out "technical adjustments" on the extraordinary weapon in front of him.

As time passed, the night gradually became darker and deeper.

The next day.

Backlund East District.

As Klein walked out of the hotel, he recalled Philip's reply from last night. He pinched the brim of his half-high silk hat with his fingers, slightly pressed it down, and sighed silently inwardly.

He originally thought that Philip would directly transfer him a few dozen pounds or even tens of pounds for emergency use, but he didn't expect that the other party not only gave him only 1 pound, but also said that he would provide a place and asked him to rent it the day after tomorrow disguised as a tenant.

Sigh, I always have a strange feeling. Klein shook his head slightly, looked down at his relatively clean clothes, then carefully found a rental carriage and left the East District.

Even though the economic situation is not optimistic, when he was choosing a place to stay last night, he still chose a hotel on the edge of the East District. The advantage of this is that there is at least the most basic guarantee of public security.

And now the target is the Cherwood District.

Not only can it reduce the possibility of encountering local night watchmen, but it also has a large flow of people and relatively good public security, making it easy to hide. The Hillston area, which also meets these conditions, was ruled out by him because of its slightly higher price.

I hope the address Philip provides isn't too weird, otherwise I'll refuse. Klein thought as he gathered his thoughts and prepared to think about the Tarot Club at 3 p.m. this afternoon.

Mr. Hanged Man seems particularly concerned about Qilingos's situation. Now that he's gone, I don't know how he'll react. I hope he won't continue to urge me to send a follower to help. I really don't have any.
(End of this chapter)