Mystery: My Encounters with the Celestial God

Chapter 286 This~Bow~ (3.4K)

"You two spineless women! If you hadn't been so slow cooking, I could have gotten back before this happened. How could the Church of the Night have gotten there first!"

"Don't let me find out which son of a bitch reported you, or which bastard killed Lanluus, or your best fate will be turning into minced meat in a bowl!"

"Bang"

Red Angel slammed the cleaver into the marble countertop and lit a cigarette, taking two deep drags.

"Ha, stop talking nonsense, Medici. Judging from the scene of Lanius's death, those tarot cards are definitely foreshadowing something. Maybe it's the first operation of an ancient and secretive organization, announcing their arrival in this way!"

"That's right, Einhorn is right. Your investigation might be very dangerous. Not every being is as benevolent as Lord Ron, and judging from the fact that divination couldn't yield any information, the person behind this definitely has a hidden entity protecting them!"

Not to be outdone, Soren and Einhorn seized the opportunity and each said a sentence, successfully leaving the Red Angel speechless.

The Goddess of War wished she could tear the two bastards who were dragging her down and that son of a bitch who reported her to pieces, then pack them up and sacrifice them to the evil god so that they would disappear from this world completely.

"Suo"

Just then, as Medici was about to utter a provocative remark, He suddenly sensed someone entering the mansion.

"Damn it, you piece of shit, couldn't you have brought a few more servants?!"

He grumbled with a string of profanities, but in the end, he resigned himself to wiping his hands with his apron, smoking a cigarette as he went to "greet" the arriving guests.

Sharon was on her first vacation since Ron was away, so the Red Angel was the only one maintaining the villa.

However, just like an evil capitalist, Ron, despite admitting it was a vacation, still assigned the other party the task of investigating the Cult of Spirits.

They call it training the other person!

"Good afternoon, madam. We meet again. The weather is lovely today; I haven't seen the sun all day."

As soon as he reached the entrance of the mansion, Klein saw a beautiful redhead peeking out from inside. He immediately took off his hat, bowed, and greeted her with a humorous joke that had never gone out of style in Backlund over the decades.

"Good afternoon, is there anything I can help you with?"

Seeing that the visitor was an acquaintance with whom he had made a deal, the Red Angel's unpleasant expression improved considerably. He greeted him in return, though the coldness in his words was immediately apparent.

"Madam, I'd like to speak with Ron Sothos. I have something I'd like to 'discuss' with him."

"I'm definitely fine, but you guys might be in trouble. Luckily, I know Ron well, otherwise I would have reported you long ago, given your basement."

Klein pretended not to understand, muttering to himself, while simultaneously stating his purpose.

"Heh, you've come at the right time. Ron isn't home. He left last week, saying he had some business to attend to in the Southern Continent."

Hong Tian held the cigarette between his fingers, habitually twitching his lips into a bright and magnanimous smile, saying something that sounded rather irritating.

"What do you mean 'I've arrived just in time'? Why do you talk like a little kid?"

"I see. Then I won't bother you any longer."

The great detective mentally scoffed, then politely took his leave. This outcome was not unexpected, but what Klein did not expect was that Ron, who had attended the Tarot meeting, had not yet returned.

This doesn't make any sense at all by that lazybones's logic!

"etc."

Just as Klein turned his head, Medici suddenly called out to him from behind. He turned his head to look back and saw the lady, whose appearance was a mixture of heroic spirit and charm, beckoning to him.

Klein's smile froze. He crossed his arms and stood still, but actually took a few steps back to maintain a safe distance.

"Madam, what do you want?"

"Damn it! She wouldn't have her eye on me, would she?!"

The great detective broke out in a cold sweat and muttered something to himself.

It's not that he's overthinking things; based on Klein's deduction, this stunningly charming woman must be a witch.

And she's a demigod-level witch!

However, he always had an inexplicable and mysterious connection with witches, as if he could always bump into the "true creator".

His time studying history with Mrs. Sharon in Tingen left him with a severe psychological scar. Today's tarot gathering, Ron's changed appearance, and the lamentations in Emperor Roselle's diary have made Klein extremely uneasy. He can already imagine what his nightmare will be like tonight.

Either he becomes a witch, or he is toyed with by a witch; this is the most obvious thing!

"Ha, I'll say it again, you're very good at provoking!"

Seeing the great detective's actions and hearing his tone, Medici's face twisted slightly, acknowledging the aggressiveness in Klein's words and actions.

"I've heard Ron mention that you're an excellent detective, and that little brat also said you're a real pain in the neck, always managing to uncover things that ordinary people can't even notice. I have a request for you, I wonder if you could take it?"

"Madam, that depends on what kind of request it is."

And, is the price reasonable?

Upon discovering that it was legitimate business, Klein felt a slight sense of disappointment, but immediately adopted a professional demeanor.

"Very well, come in. The doorway isn't the place to talk, but remember, you can't tell anyone about this mission, and the reward I can give you will be absolutely generous!"

After opening the villa door, Medici first looked around to make sure there weren't many people around before beckoning the great detective inside to talk in detail.

Klein hesitated for a while, but ultimately gritted his teeth and decided to go along with it, because the two materials he bought at the Tarot meeting had emptied most of his wallet, and his investment in the "bicycle" project would undoubtedly require more money in the future.

"I'll take on as many commissions as I can; a demigod should be generous enough."

He muttered something to himself and followed Medici to the sofa on the first floor.

"Heh, sit down. To be honest, I find it hard to imagine how you even know that little brat."

The Red Angel lit another cigarette and glanced at the extraordinary being who looked like a weakling.

Then He took out a glass and filled it with red wine in front of Klein.

"Olmir red wine, from 1286."

He gave a brief introduction, indicating that the guest should make his own way.

126 pounds!

The detective's mind instantly flashed through the corresponding prices, and he secretly marveled at the extravagance of the Ron family. Although he had stayed here for one night, he had never imagined that they would use such expensive wines to entertain guests.

"And why serve alcohol to guests? I seriously doubt I'm the only guest here."

"Oh, ma'am, it's all in the past now. When I first met Ron, he was just a homeless kid with no money, so I took him in."

Klein Moretti took a small sip of the outrageously expensive wine and responded rather sadly to Medici's earlier topic.

"But that brat is not only greedy and lazy, but also lacks self-discipline. He doesn't even wash his own clothes, and he'll hit people at the slightest disagreement. Every day he's either mocking people or causing trouble. He'll also tattle, tattle on me, uh, on my boss, and pin some unfounded accusations on me!"

"I still remember the first time we met, he loudly mocked me for being an amateur fortune teller and smeared my reputation. Do you know how much psychological damage that is for a newcomer to the profession?"

But as he talked, Klein Moretti got more and more carried away, and a wave of sadness washed over him. His complaints came like a flood that had been released, and he couldn't stop.

He recalled all the trouble Ron had caused, and he had never found the little brat so annoying. He recounted Ron's crimes one by one, spitting as he spoke, his eyes filled with tears, his tone a mixture of sadness, helplessness, and anger, so aggrieved that Medici felt as if he were looking in a mirror.

"You're right, that little brat is indeed greedy and lazy, and he's very sarcastic. I'm the one who washes his clothes, cooks his meals, and cleans the entire manor."

The red angel was now covered in stubble, his back hunched, his forearms resting on his thighs, and the cigarette in his hand was emitting wisps of white smoke, silently telling of the sadness and anguish in his heart.

Suddenly, Medici stubbed out his cigarette, poured himself a glass of red wine, and then raised his glass to look at Klein Moretti, who was in tears and whose voice was choked with emotion.

"Let's do it!"

He suddenly shouted loudly, which earned the great detective's approval.

"Let's do it!"

Klein also shouted, and then the two poor souls raised their glasses, clinked them together, and gulped down their drinks.

Men don't need to say much; it's all in the wine!

"Ahem, your name is Sherlock, right? I, Medici, am not one to mince words. If you ever need anything, just come to me, and I'll take care of it!"

"Sister Medici, don't worry, just tell me what's wrong. Money isn't an issue!"

"Call me Big Brother!"

The Angel of War smirked and corrected the detective, who shared a similar experience, on his wording.

At this moment, He seemed to have returned to the Fourth Age, to the time when His Legion still existed, when there were many subordinates and brothers who shared His will.

"Heh, since we've come this far, I won't hide it from you anymore. I do need help investigating some things!"

"Don't worry, as Russell said, even brothers need to keep clear accounts. I won't shortchange you!"

Medici patted his chest and spoke his true feelings to the detective, whom he found increasingly pleasing to the eye.

"It's alright. I've never met anyone I can truly confide in. Don't worry, brother, I'll definitely get a result on your request!"

"I can do some divination above the gray fog. Sigh, it seems I shouldn't be prejudiced against people based on their appearance. Medici is such a good person; judging from his appearance, becoming a witch was probably out of necessity."

The great detective wiped away the tears that had welled up in his eyes and suddenly recalled the group of teammates he could rely on back in Tingen.

"Kid, you're pretty good. I acknowledge you!"

The Red Angel immediately stood up, patted Klein on the shoulder, and without pausing, stated the request He wanted to make.

"I want you to investigate who killed Lanluus, and which despicable bastard secretly wrote a letter of denunciation to the Church of the Goddess of Night!"

"Sherlock, I have some clues that should be able to help you!"

"The despicable man who killed Lanluus was skilled in divination, and might even be a diviner like you, because he used a simple deck of tarot cards—a weapon that normal people wouldn't use!"

"He's about 1.73 meters tall and on the thin side. This was determined based on his footprints; there's no error. His build is similar to yours!"

"And most importantly, based on the traces left at the scene, he was a low-sequence individual, because his fighting style was different from that of high-sequence diviners."

"Remember, be careful during the investigation. There's likely a hidden figure behind that despicable person!"

After Medici finished speaking, he slapped the dumbfounded "despicable man" hard, showing great anticipation for this guy.

(End of this chapter)