abnormal mutation

Chapter 43 The Exile and the Demon-Slaying Bullet
The decline of the judicial system and the realm of law enforcement begins with the corruption of the rule of law and the embezzlement and corruption of officials. The law is the will, while prestige, public support, and hope are the soul. Without prestige and public support, the realm of law enforcement will naturally become weaker and weaker.

"I heard Roland was just kidnapped?" the middle-aged law enforcement officer said meaningfully.

"Yes." Director Mark looked embarrassed.

"Bring the murderer to justice as soon as possible and give the people of Ice River Town an explanation. Do you understand what I mean, Chief Mark?" The middle-aged law enforcement officer's gaze suddenly turned stern.

Ice River Town has only a few thousand people. He doesn't believe anything can be hidden from the law enforcement agency and Mark. It all depends on whether he wants to get involved or not.

"I'll take care of it right away. I won't let the law enforcement agency be disgraced." If Mark still doesn't understand, then he's truly hopeless.

This incident is both a crisis and an opportunity. If handled properly, the image of law enforcement officers can be greatly improved, and they can regain the trust of the public.

Roland's identity is too sensitive; he is a native Soren of the North, a descendant of a meritorious official, and a "philanthropist" in Glacier Town, drawing people's attention.

If something really happens to him, or if he is threatened or manipulated by law enforcement officers, the prestige of the law enforcement officers and the public's support will immediately plummet. If the Law Enforcement Spirit Domain loses its foundation in Ice River Town and even the Northern Territory, then it will be a problem that cannot be solved by the death of a few people.

Protecting him means protecting the people's hearts; this is the current political correctness, and Director Mark clearly lacks this sensitivity.

"Do your job well."

The middle-aged law enforcement officer mounted his snowmobile and sped away. Three other snowmobiles followed closely behind, with two carrying wooden crates in the middle. The group quickly disappeared into the distance, resembling a long, flying snow dragon from afar.

“Ms. Julia, Mayor Olge, I’ve prepared a banquet at the hot spring resort, with fruits from the south. Why don’t you join us for a taste?” Director Mark extended an invitation with a smile.

"I need to concoct medicine. I appreciate Director Mark's kindness," Yulia said dismissively, turning and jumping onto the reindeer-drawn cart.

"I won't stand on ceremony with you then," Olger said, rubbing his stomach and laughing heartily.

"Get in my car."

Director Mark watched the reindeer wagon drive away, a hint of regret in his eyes.

…………

As night fell, firelight flickered in the courtyard. Roland was instructing several people on how to make charcoal, explaining that a fire that was too big or too small would affect the yield and quality of the charcoal.

Suddenly, Roland stood up and listened intently. He could faintly hear the roar of machinery outside the west gate, gradually fading into the distance.

'This doesn't seem to follow procedure. As the person involved, you should at least summon me for questioning, and you just leave like that?' Grantham's law enforcement officers are different; they're quite efficient.

He thought this was a good thing; if no one questioned it, it wouldn't be exposed, since he had too many secrets.

"Keep it like this, cook for another half hour, then quickly remove the heat..."

"Got it, big brother."

Roland returned to the house, where Luke was making soup. He lit an oil lamp, carried it into the west storeroom, hung the lamp on the wall, and then eagerly rummaged through the corner to find the leather suitcase.

He laid the suitcase flat on the ground. The suitcase was not locked. There were two mechanical latches on the side with the handle. He pressed and pushed, and the latches clicked open.

Just to be safe, he summoned Freddy and asked it to open the suitcase. Freddy cautiously pried open the suitcase with its paw, then leaped away, revealing a full box of items. There was no poison smoke or hidden arrows; everything seemed normal. Freddy tilted its head, rolled its eyes at Roland, let out a soft sigh, and lazily lay down by the door.

“Cough, what do you know? This is called being cautious.” Roland glared at Fletcher.

He squatted in front of the box, his expression full of surprise. At a glance, he saw books, holsters, wallets, clothes, and the like. He had a feeling that today was going to be a big day.

He picked up the wallet first. Its old-fashioned style and soft, heavy feel surprised Roland. When he opened it, he found it was full of banknotes and coins. He poured them out and counted them. There were more than 120 German dollars in total.

It wasn't as much as he'd imagined, but he could understand. The old priest was a very kind person who helped the poor every day, so it was quite remarkable that he had saved so much.

He put his wallet away and then picked up a holster—a black leather underarm holster with a small ammunition box hanging beside it. He drew his pistol, a revolver he'd never seen before, matte black, somewhat similar to the Imperial Elite II single-action revolver, but with a larger caliber and a longer muzzle, the word "Exile" branded on the barrel.

'The gun even has a name, could it be some kind of magical item?' He examined it for a while but found nothing unusual.

It wasn't until he opened the ammunition box that he realized the bullets were the core component. Inside were twelve bullets, all made of purple metal, engraved with strange patterns that gleamed faintly.

'Is it specifically designed to deal with extraordinary individuals?' He reloaded the revolver and bullets and gently set it aside.

Inside the box were three wooden boxes, one small and two large. He opened the two large ones first. Inside one of them were six tubes of medicine: four purple, one colorless, and one light blue. There were no instructions, and he didn't dare to touch them.

Another wooden box was written with "Demon-Slaying Bullets" in Akkadian. When he opened it, it was full of bullets. He counted them and there were 48 in total, the same as the bullets in the other box, only the pictures on them were different.

'The old priest isn't as honest as he seems,' he muttered to himself.

The small wooden box was the most exquisite, with glossy red wood and intricate patterns branded along the edges. There was a mechanical combination lock on one side, but it wasn't locked, and he opened it in no time.

Inside was a pocket watch, with a gold hunting case and exquisite design. The case showed a complex and intricate gear structure. The moment his fingers touched the pocket watch, the gears suddenly started to turn, startling him so much that he quickly pulled his hand back.

The gears stopped immediately after his hand left. Roland was both surprised and delighted; without a doubt, this was a magical item.

With a snap, he closed the box, calmed himself down, and decided not to touch it again.

In fact, there is no fundamental difference between magical items and sealed items. One has a greater positive effect, while the other has a greater negative effect. In other words, even the best magical items have side effects, and misuse can lead to irreversible consequences.

There were three books and a piece of clothing left in the box. The clothing was at the bottom, and the three books were stacked together.

He picked up the top book, a diary about the size of two palms. He opened the title page and saw Colin's name written on it in clumsy handwriting, like a beginner's scribbles.

He randomly flipped through a few pages and found them torn and ripped everywhere. The dates were also jumbled up, with diaries from dozens of pages apart containing entries from the same date. The handwriting was sometimes elegant, sometimes messy, and sometimes clumsy, which gave him a headache, so he had to put it aside for the time being.

Below the diary was a faded parchment book, about the size of a notebook, with elegant, patterned writing that he had never seen before. He tried to open it, but couldn't; the pages seemed welded shut.

'Another item related to the extraordinary.' Since anything involving the extraordinary carries a certain degree of danger, he didn't try it again.

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(End of this chapter)