Mystery: From the Shadow World

Chapter 130 Practice Results
East Side, Black Palm Street.

In the one-bedroom apartment that Klein rented.

"How's the situation?" Philip asked, looking at Klein, who was sitting on the bed and looked a little listless due to spiritual exhaustion and physical fatigue.

"Uh," Klein shook his head, trying his best to keep his mind focused. He sorted out the information and said concisely, "Those three men are the 'executioners' of the Zmanger Party, sent by a man named Meursault. They were specifically there to keep an eye on Ian."

"Where's Zreal?"

"I'll do the divination after I get some sleep."

Seeing Klein fall sideways on the bed, Philip sighed, straightened his body, covered him with the thin blanket left in the room, and then quietly waited for time to pass.

Two hours later.

After a short rest and regaining his spiritual strength, Klein took Philip out again. He broke off a withered branch and used it as a "divination rod" to divine the location of Zreal's body.

That's great! He's worthy of being called a "Fortune Teller." Even though I'm already Sequence 7, I'm still no match for him in this regard. Without blood, I can't predict others' positions. Philip's body was tightly wrapped in a gauze mask, a bowler hat, a brown coat, and brown trousers, revealing only his slightly helpless sapphire eyes.

With the help of the short, tan hair Zreal left in the room, Klein divined countless times to adjust his position and direction before finally leading him to the entrance of a sewer.

After removing the lid, a foul smell hits your nose, like methane that has been trapped in the ground for more than ten years without evaporating. It gushes out excitedly like a fat geek with oily face meeting a beautiful girl, wanting to let the person who opens the lid inhale it all in a few seconds.

Philip looked at Klein's equally expressionless face and couldn't help but admire him inwardly. Then he was the first to climb down the vertical metal stairs.

Little did they know that if the latter did not have the "Joker's" ability to control his facial expressions, his face would probably have been distorted long ago, and his clenched fists have already made this clear.

Unfortunately, the bag couldn't hold more. If I had Frye's "Oil of Krag," I wouldn't have to suffer like this. While Klein felt regret in his heart, he was also surprised at Philip's acceptance.

Isn't this too much to bear?

Without time to regret or be surprised, after confirming that Philip had arrived below, he also grabbed the metal stairs with both hands and began to climb down.

However, when the sticky coldness of the ground passed through the soles of his feet and into his mind, and the filthiness of the surroundings caused dense bumps to appear on his arms and body, the regret in his heart reached its peak again.

But there was nothing he could do.

Enduring the disgusting smell, Klein led Philip forward, walking through the empty and quiet sewer.

After a few seconds, seemingly overcome by curiosity, he couldn't help but turn around and ask, "Philip, why are you so tolerant? Or do you have any special methods?"

Emm, after a normal person has experienced being hunted, cursed by the full moon and turned into a werewolf every day, bleeding every night, overcoming bloodlust every day, suppressing madness every day, and pursuing to continue to advance on the extraordinary path...
They all feel that there is no further room for decline in life except death, or being trapped like the souls of the extraordinary people in "The Creeping Hunger", and nothing else can be achieved.

"Uh..." Philip hesitated for a moment, feeling awkward, and finally shook his head. "You don't want to know. This is the result of my practice. You know what I mean."

"If you want to try, then I don't recommend helping, although it's not necessary for you."

What exactly is the result of the temperance sect's practice? Klein used the ability of the "Joker" to resist the urge to twitch his mouth, suppressed his curiosity, nodded silently, and did not continue speaking.

When they reached a fork in the road, a stronger stench wafted out from the relatively hidden path, even stronger than in other places. However, Klein, who had begun to adapt, ignored it and turned directly into the path.

At the end of the road, in the eyes of the two people with their clairvoyant vision, the rotten, gnawed corpse was reflected in the gloomy corner.

The dense swarms of rats around them scattered in all directions. The few remaining ones, greedy for food, stayed put, but their attention had already shifted to the two strangers, ready to flee immediately if they encountered any danger. "It's Zreal."

After saying this, Klein drove away the rats and began to set up the spiritual ceremony on the spot.

If no one has dealt specifically with Zreal's spirit, even if a few days have passed, some superficial information can be obtained using the spiritual ritual. Although it is as superficial as it can be, it is better than nothing.

"Zreal's cause of death."

"Zreal's cause of death."

End of recitation.

Klein frowned slightly, then finally sighed resignedly, "Failure."

This meant that someone had already dealt with Zreal's spirit, and that person must be a Beyonder, able to disguise himself as Zreal and not reveal any flaws in front of the detectives. This seemed to be the same ability as the one in "Creeping Hunger".

Philip looked at the rotting corpse, clenching his chin in thought. Having already confirmed that the "Faceless Man" was most likely behind this, he was already thinking about how to lure him out.

If there are other helpers, although the benefits will increase, it will also be very troublesome. Maybe you can try pretending to be an ordinary person, or a low-sequence extraordinary person?
The two men, who had completed their mission, each with their own thoughts, left the fork in the road and prepared to retreat to the exit along the dirty cement road on both sides of the sewage river.

Boom!Boom!Boom!
The sudden sound echoed in the sewer.

Philip paused in reaching for the metal stairs, turned around and looked in the direction where the sound came from, but was blocked. After a few seconds of silence, he gave up the idea of meddling in other people's business and left.

"Let's go, go straight back."

Philip waved his hand and was about to run away in the direction he remembered, but Klein pulled him back in the direction he came from by the corner of his clothes.

"what happened?"

Facing Philip's doubts, Klein explained, "I need to go back over there and change clothes. This will effectively reduce the risk."

“I don’t need to change.”

Philip replied as a matter of course.

Klein was silent for a few seconds before nodding. "I know, but I feel safer with you. It's better than being attacked alone."

".Fine."

In the morning, 17 Braun Street.

The doorbell jingled. Philip, who was sitting on the sofa, was about to get up and open the door, but he found that Klein, who was still sleeping soundly, turned over and stood up reflexively.

He straightened his white shirt and black vest, which he hadn't even taken off. Seeing that Philip was still sitting there blankly after seeing that he had woken up, he stood up, walked to the door and opened it.

Outside the door was the boy named Ian.

"Good morning, Detective Moriarty."

(End of this chapter)