Mystery: My Encounters with the Celestial God

Chapter 354 The So-Called Assassin (3.2K)

The man in the black robe never dreamed that this "middleman" would pull out such a deadly weapon from his crotch. Who, apart from a private investigator, would illegally possess a gun for no reason?!

Just as Klein was about to pull the trigger, he flicked his right wrist, and the dagger in his hand flew out instantly, stabbing straight at the detective's right eye socket.

At the same time, he touched the ground with the toes of his left foot, and his body became as light as a feather. In just an instant, he changed his forward momentum and turned to the side to avoid the gunshot that might follow.

He intended to exploit the human instinct to avoid obstacles, disrupting Klein's aiming and trigger-pulling action. If this "intermediary" didn't dodge, his throwing knife would be enough to severely injure this suspected extraordinary individual.

As expected, the moment he flung the throwing knife away, the man in black robes saw Klein's expression change drastically, and immediately twisted his waist and swung his arms in a "disheveled" manner to dodge this swift and fierce attack.

What a great opportunity!!! It seems his sequence isn't high; at least he shouldn't be an extraordinary individual with enhanced physical abilities!

Seeing Klein stagger and lose his balance while dodging the flying knife, the man in the black robe was overjoyed. He suddenly sped up and came to the great detective who had not yet regained his footing. He reached out his hand to disarm the revolver that posed a great threat to him.

But at that moment, he suddenly saw that the "middleman" was no longer staggering, but had stabilized himself in a posture that no human could possibly maintain.

next moment……

Klein raised his leg and kicked the man in black robes in a vital spot.

During their brief encounter, the great detective carefully analyzed two points.

First, this murderer should be an extraordinary individual with outstanding fighting skills and not much mystery, because his only means of ranged combat is throwing knives, and his first reaction after failing to throw a knife is to close the distance.

Secondly, based on the voice the other person had just heard, Klein could confirm that the man in the black robe was a man.

so.

"ah!!!"

A pitiful howl echoed through the five-story building. The hood of the man in the black robe was pulled off due to the violent twisting motion, revealing his handsome face contorted in extreme pain.

This wave, this wave is a victory for the despicable "fortune tellers"!

As a Sequence Seven "Magician", how could Klein be threatened by a throwing knife? Putting aside the "Paper Doll" which was enough to save his life, even the "Joker's" ability to maintain balance would not have made him so disheveled.

The black robe was soaked with red spots; the great detective hadn't held back with his kick, and it could even be said that he had used all his strength.

Just as Mr. Assassin was under strong control, his whole body tense and stiff, unable to move, Klein clenched his fist and punched him hard in the right cheek.

This fist, carrying immense power, slammed the man in black robes to the ground with a single blow. His teeth loosened, his expression seemed dazed, and he spat out a mouthful of blood.

Things are different now. Klein Moretti is no longer the "clown" who first arrived in Backlund. He is now a mid-series Extraordinary!

The mysterious man in the black robe had lost all ability to resist. His face was swollen to the color of a liver, and he was writhing on the ground in pain, clutching his groin with both hands.

Gone, all gone!!!

Sivir's mind went blank. The intense pain in his groin told him that he had lost his best brother forever!

Clearly, completing this mission will grant me the "Sequence Seven" potion, allowing me to fulfill my promise to that beautiful lady and enjoy true pleasure with her.

But now there's nothing left!

People always learn to regret when they lose something.

Although when he first became an assassin, the woman told him that an assassin is someone who can endure what ordinary people cannot, and that even if he loses everything, he must remain calm and composed, and find an opportunity to kill the target.

But the thought of never having the chance to savor those moist, sweet, pink lips and that creamy, smooth body filled Sivir with endless resentment and rage towards the despicable man before her.

"I want you dead! I want you dead! I want you dead!"

He opened his bloodshot eyes wide, with black blood seemingly flowing from the corners of his eyes, and stared viciously at Klein, who was approaching.

The frantic shouts grew increasingly indistinct and inhuman, and within a second, they transformed into violent panting and incomprehensible roars.

Oh no! This is getting out of control!?

Klein, who had been on guard, was alarmed. He had clearly underestimated the psychological blow his kick had dealt to his opponent.

Of course, there's also the reason that this unqualified assassin hadn't fully digested the potion.

In short, at this very moment, he is about to turn into a monster under the dual blows to his mind and body!

Snap, snap, snap...

The "Magician" snapped his fingers with a solemn expression, and several invisible air bullets pierced straight into the Assassin's forehead.

The body, which had been struggling, twisting, and deforming, and was flowing with black blood and pus, went limp and slowly collapsed to the ground, devoid of any life.

Out of caution, Klein snapped his fingers again, fired one last shot at the body, and then strode to a window in the corridor, quietly watching the commotion outside.

After waiting for several dozen seconds and finding that the security personnel outside had not noticed anything unusual, Klein finally breathed a long sigh of relief.

If outsiders were to see this scene, he would truly be a laughingstock, even if he wasn't already covered in mud.

"Why do I always run into these kinds of weird things?!"

After muttering a low complaint, Klein returned to the black-robed man he had killed, attempting to dispose of the body and conceal the evidence.

To be honest, he had originally planned to use his self-made slumbering spell to put the other party to sleep so he could communicate with spirits and obtain information, while keeping the real culprit at the scene so he could report him severely.

However, this guy's sudden loss of control disrupted all of Klein's plans.

He took out Holy Night Powder from his pocket, sprinkled a little around, and at the same time held a silver dagger to create an invisible spiritual wall.

After completing the preparations, the great detective took out a candle, broke it into three pieces, and began to chant the name of "The Fool".

If you want to destroy evidence, gray fog is undoubtedly an essential tool for home and travel, as well as for silencing witnesses. Moreover, the spirits of those who have lost control also need the help of gray fog.

After another flurry of activity, Klein sacrificed the black-robed man's corpse, along with his dagger, onto the gray mist.

An endless, hazy gray fog continued to spread, and once again, the magnificent palace, like the abode of a giant, came into the eyes of the "Fool".

"What Sequence of Extraordinary are you? What is the name of your potion?"

Klein didn't waste any time. Although he had already guessed that the other party was an "assassin," he still couldn't help but confirm it.

"...Sequence Eight...The Instigator..."

Damn, it really is... Dude, it's not my fault. We were going to die sooner or later anyway, I just helped you prepare in advance...

Using an excuse Ron often used, and silently defending himself, Mr. "Fool's" guilt lessened considerably. He asked again:

"Who sent you?"

A few seconds later, the face of the instigator's spirit became feverish, as if it had thought of something it desperately craved.

"It's Mrs. Jessica, she's the second wife of Baron Kessel of the Kingdom."

The second wife? Mrs. Sharon of Tingen was also the second wife, tsk tsk, this baron is quite lucky.

A slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, a silent grumble running through his mind, Klein continued, "..."

"Is Mrs. Jessica a member of the Witch Cult? Why did you come to kill the high-ranking executives of Honest Steel? What is your purpose?"

Faced with this somewhat complicated question, the spirit was clearly stunned for a few seconds.

"I didn't know the Witch Cult was here to carry out Lady Jessica's orders."

They don't know anything about the Witch Cult, nor even the reason for the assassination; it seems they're just an outer member of the Witch Cult.

Klein lowered his eyes and sighed deeply, for this meant that he could not obtain any more information.

Next, he questioned Sivir in detail about her, and finally received satisfactory answers. As time passed, the assassin's remaining spirit gradually disintegrated and turned into nothingness.

I definitely can't just walk out like this now; there are still two dead bodies in the office. If that happens, wanted posters will probably be plastered all over Backlund by tomorrow. And if I throw the assassin's body back, I'll definitely be investigated too, since someone who can kill an Extraordinary must also be an Extraordinary.

Unlucky

Mr. Fool, sitting on the bronze high-backed chair, covered his head, unable to think of any good way to get through the situation.

As his gaze swept over the assassin's corpse, a spark seemed to flash in Detective Moriarty's mind. He hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and searching all of Sivir's belongings.

A wallet containing several sous of cash, several daggers hanging at the waist, the extraordinary characteristics slowly emerging, and a small dressing mirror tightly wrapped in kraft paper.

Through the detailed information obtained through the psychic communication, Klein knew that this dressing mirror was an important tool used by Lady Jessica to contact the assassin.

After glancing at the extraordinary properties of the Puppet Master on the bronze table and then at the communication device in his hand, Klein felt a chill run down his spine and a bold idea formed in his mind.

If he impersonates this assassin, wouldn't that make things simpler?

The assassin is dead, killed en route to the mission. This means the "post-mission report" was not completed, implying that Mrs. Jessica was unaware of the mission's specific details.

Therefore, whether it was secretly infiltrating to assassinate the factory manager or disguising himself as a "middleman" to approach the assassination, it all relied on Klein's words.

Only in this way can the extra person at the scene be eliminated, forming a perfect alibi.

What does it have to do with me, Sherlock Moriarty, that an assassin impersonates a "middleman" to commit murder?

That's right. If that's the case, they can use the cover-up provided by the person behind them to completely cover up the whole thing, and then they'll be free to do whatever they want!

Sherlock Moriarty grew increasingly excited, feeling that he had not only become a great detective but also lived up to the name of his surname.

Back in my seat, I wrote a note and simultaneously conjured a citrine pendant, asking whether there was any danger in doing so.

After silently repeating the command seven times, Klein opened his deep eyes and saw the citrine pendant rotating counterclockwise. The rotation was small and slow, which meant that if he was careful, there would be no danger.

Relieved, Klein quickly returned to the real world and began cleaning up the "crime" scene.

(End of this chapter)