London in the early morning is also shrouded in fog, with smoke-billowing chimneys, fog-filled Thames, and looming London Bridges.

Those who happened to walk past the bridge, looking through the railings and peering into the foggy sky, were surrounded by fog as if they were floating in a balloon in a wet cloud.

The fog crept into the eyes and throats of the old men in the lower city, who lived on pensions and were panting hard by the stove in the wards, the fog slipped into the pipes and pipes of the bag of cigarettes smoked by the angry captain in the airtight cabin, and the fog cruelly tortured the fingers and toes of the shivering young apprentice standing on the deck.

"Sell newspapers!Sell newspapers!" A shrill children's voice broke the dead silence of the city: "There was a massacre at the Ritz factory in the East End of London! The entire factory supervisor was killed! The child laborers disappeared into the factory!"

The newsboys walked through the streets, wearing green long-sleeved shirts, dark blue shorts, full satchels with patches and stuffed at their waists, and waving newspapers in their hands.

"Hey, boy, bring me a newspaper!" called the gentleman with a black cane standing in the street

The newsboy hurried up to the gentleman and handed him the paper: "Here you are, three pennies, sir!"

The gentleman took the newspaper and, instead of paying attention to the long newsboy with his hand outstretched, opened it.

When you open the newspaper, you will see the headline: Massacre in the factory!

The gentleman frowned, didn't say anything, lowered his head and continued reading.

Massacre in the factory: This morning, Mr. Bob, who works for the Ruiz factory, found multiple bodies lying on the cold ground in the factory, and then the police rushed to the scene to find 43 bodies inside!

After Sheriff Gregg's verdict, the criminals in this case had multiple murderers, and each corpse wound was fatal with one blow, and there was even a corpse that was penetrated by the perverted criminal from the chest to the wall behind him! The criminal is a planned crime!

Sheriff Greg would like to remind all citizens not to walk alone at night!

The London Daily will continue to keep you up to date.

The gentleman's brow furrowed, and without saying a word, he circled the newspaper and stuffed it into his arms.

The newsboy raised his hand: "Sir, 3 pennies?"

The "gentleman" had a gloomy face and pushed the newsboy away: "Get out, damn little ghost!"

Then he turned and strode towards the back of the street, the newsboy's eyes widened, his teeth bared, and his fists clenched tightly.

After a long time, the newsboy sighed, pulled out a newspaper from the satchel covered with patches on his waist, buried his head, and ran around the street waving the newspaper: "Sell newspapers! Sell newspapers!"

It's just that there is no initial cheerfulness in the voice, it seems to have some helplessness, and a slight choked sound.

The "gentleman" walked to the end of the street and came to a six-story apartment.

The "gentleman" pushed away the caretaker's hut on the edge of the apartment, and shouted loudly, "Finch! Finch! Damn, I think we're in trouble!"

A man with curly brown hair stuck out his head in surprise in the office in the cabin, "What's wrong with you, Raymond?"

Raymond closed the door, walked quickly to Finch, took out the newspaper in his arms, and smashed it on the desk in front of Finch: "I think you will understand it if you look at it!"

Finch picked up the newspaper on the table differently: "Hmm~ I'll see, the Ruiz Factory Massacre?

Raymond angrily interrupts Fincher: "Don't complain!

Finch looked at Raymond helplessly: "Don't worry, Raymond!"

"The overseers were all killed, the children are gone, the children must have run away, so what trouble are you in? Are there any relatives among the overseers?" Finch looked at Raymond strangely.

Raymond seemed to be angry, and he kept tapping on the ground with his cane in a rage: "Damn! Listen, it's not me in trouble! It's us! We're all in trouble!"

Finch sat in his chair and shrugged, "I'm listening, Raymond." ”

Raymond seemed to be running out of control of his emotions: "Kids! The kids are gone! I swear, someone is definitely eyeing us! Don't forget, most of the child labor at the Ruiz factory is provided by us!"

Finch carried the coffee pot and filled the empty cup at hand, then handed the cup to Raymond: "I think, you should calm down, Raymond!"

Raymond took the coffee rudely: "Don't forget, Winsel died at King's Cross station some time ago, and it was also killed with one blow!

Finch frowned, "I think you might be thinking too much, I suggest you go back upstairs and sleep now!"

Raymond slammed the coffee cup on the table, lowered his body, and stared at Finch, "Listen, Finch! My instincts never missed! If you don't listen to me, I swear! You'll regret it!"

Finch nodded helplessly, "Okay, okay! I'll let the gentlemen keep a low profile for now." ”

Raymond got the desired result and nodded with satisfaction: "I think you will be glad about your decision in the future!"

"Kuang!!"

The door to the hut was slammed shut, and Finch rubbed his temple with his hand, "Damn! Raymond will break my door sooner or later!"

"Perhaps, but are we really going to keep a low profile for a while?" a voice came from the bookshelf next to it.

"Boom~"

The bookshelf was pulled open to the left, and a man in a black coat walked out of the dark room behind the bookshelf: "Could it be Raymond's delusion?"

Finch nodded thoughtfully: "Keep a low profile, Raymond's intuition is indeed quite accurate, but...... If nothing happens..."

The corners of Finch's mouth were raised: "Then let him never slam my door again!"

The Kuroko man reopened the bookshelf to block the dark room, then walked to the door of the hut and opened the door, nodded to Finch, and walked out of the hut without saying a word.

City of London Police

The police officers were busy like worker bees, and the air was full of noisy and impetuous atmosphere, some of them were writing and drawing with papers in their hands, some were interrogating prisoners, and a small number of officers were preparing to go out on duty with batons and gun holsters

A roar came from the depths of the police station, "Damn it, please move your rusty brains, I don't want to hear any more speculation! I want clues! Now, get out of here and look for clues!"

The four officers walked out of the office in the depths of the police station with gloomy faces.

Inside the office

A uniformed male police officer with short black hair and a rough beard stared motionlessly at the blackboard hanging on the wall with his hands behind his back.

The door suddenly opened: "Sheriff Gregg, we found the carriage transporting child laborers!"