Mystery: Starting from the Shadow World

Chapter 141

"Is it all sorted out?" After returning home, Philip raised an eyebrow and asked Klein, who was sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands, seemingly deep in thought.

"perhaps."

Klein's tone was hesitant and uncertain. He rubbed his forehead and then lowered his hand. "I tried to find Ian's location, but I didn't find anything. As for Meursault's body, I've already disposed of it."

"Then there's no need to worry."

Philip waved his hand dismissively, poured himself a glass of water and drank it, then went straight to the corner to add cat food. "Being able to deal with Meursault, who is a 'Hunter,' means that our information as Extraordinary has definitely been exposed, but the other side obviously doesn't know the specifics. They might at most just think of us as Sequence Eights. This is the opportunity."

But I am Sequence Eight! Klein's stiff facial expression was controlled by the "Joker's" ability. He nodded. "So, what should I do now to dispel their wariness?"

"It's not very significant, but it can't be said to be meaningless."

Philip, having finished feeding the cat, stood up and turned to look at him. "After all, there's a possibility that if you don't take any action, they might think you have something to rely on and send out a sure-fire candidate, or even multiple candidates."

"However, given your current situation, I don't think there's anyone in the extraordinary community that we can currently contact in Backlund who would dare to accept the task of protecting you."

Philip smiled and made a teasing remark.

If he were to face a Sequence 5 Extraordinary, and if their abilities were difficult to deal with, Sharon would be his only lifeline.

Well, Mr. Fool is also a close call.

"You have to try, right? After all, as an ordinary wild extraordinary being, finding yourself suddenly offending a country's ambassador, you'd definitely seize any opportunity to survive." Klein shrugged, leaned back in his armchair, and sighed.

"Ah~, this commission is a real trap. Five pounds. I thought it would be easy to get those five pounds. I thought this matter only involved low-sequence extraordinary individuals or other small forces at most."

"Stop complaining."

When this topic came up, Philip was somewhat helpless and could only skip it.

He wasn't a saint, nor was Klein; it was just that the good education they received on Earth had instilled in them some kind qualities.

It's impossible for someone not to feel emotional when a request from a boy they just met suddenly causes such great harm.

However, for Philip, who had almost become desensitized to pain and lived in this broken world, a clean and decisive death was not something unacceptable, so he could think of it in a positive light.

What if you manage to turn the tables and become incredibly rich?

The two then chatted casually about this and finally decided that Klein would frequently go out and spend more time making reasonable contact with the extraordinary circle before posting the request to find bodyguards.

Philip pretended to be unaware or only partially aware of the situation, and during those days he stopped all unnecessary outings and stayed home as much as possible, giving the ambassador's subordinates the illusion that "this guy is just an ordinary person."

After all, killing a Sequence 9 "Hunter" is not difficult. Whether one person or two people do it, there is not much difference. As long as you can lull the opponent into a false sense of security and lower their psychological defenses, that's enough.

Of course, necessary things still need to be done.

For example, go find the inventor Repard.

The next day.

9 Satchel Street, St. George District.

Philip rang the doorbell and waited quietly for about ten seconds. Soon, footsteps approached, and the owner of the sound opened the door, revealing himself:

A tall, thin man in his thirties with black hair and blue eyes was dressed in gray-blue work clothes, but he appeared to be a refined gentleman.

Although it was morning, the gentleman's eyes showed a hint of weariness. He rubbed his forehead and asked indifferently, "Miss, who are you looking for, and what can I do for you?"

Philip bowed, lifted her skirt, and said, "Hello, I'm here to see Mr. Repard. I'm quite interested in his new mode of transportation."

Upon hearing this, Repard's eyes lit up, and her tone became somewhat excited, "Hello, Miss, I am Repard, please come in."

He stepped aside to make way and politely led Philip into the living room.

Philip sat on the sofa, looking at the mechanical-related items that almost completely occupied the coffee table. He raised an eyebrow and was about to speak when Repard spoke first:

"Actually, my initial idea was a four-wheeled vehicle that didn't need horses, and was driven by a driver pedaling. However, someone came to take a look and suggested that I change the direction to a bicycle type."

"I was prepared to follow his advice, but unfortunately he left and never came back. Miss, are you interested in this? Without investment, I can't even buy the parts to continue my research."

Bicycles, what a great idea! Philip silently praised in his heart, but then suddenly felt something was off.

Not a single mistake, not a single poem, not a single post, not a single piece of content, not a single look!

Not everyone is interested in or has access to the manuscripts of Emperor Russell. Even if someone meets the relevant requirements, they would probably study them on their own rather than come to him to invest in them.

It should be Klein.

As he thought this, he pinched his chin, pretending to be deep in thought, and then said, "In fact, I also know a bit about bicycles and am very interested in them. I believe I can invest in this area, but I have only one requirement."

"The design must be simple and accessible to the general public, without anything bulky, irrelevant, or meaningless, is that alright, sir?"

Philip blinked, his sapphire blue eyes meeting the other's as he made the request.

In fact, as long as she could make money in the end and wouldn't get involved in any trouble, she didn't care about anything else. Her only concern was that the inventor in front of her might take too big a step and fail, resulting in financial loss.

As for other modes of transportation... forget it, this isn't how you squander money.

"Of course, no problem!"

Repard agreed to the request without hesitation, and Philip did not disappoint him, preparing to invest all of his royalties from writing "Sherlock" and the 100 pounds he represented on behalf of Klein, totaling 300 pounds, into the other party.

With a stern face, Repard hesitated for a brief two or three seconds before granting Philip a 45% stake, limited to the bicycle project.

Even so, Philip felt that the other party was being far too charitable. After all, although he had never been involved in such matters before, he had a general idea of ​​what was going on. He had originally thought that he would be grateful for twenty or thirty yuan, but he hadn't expected this.

Indeed, being around tech geeks is quite relaxing in some ways.

(End of this chapter)