The flower-faced horse snorted, white mist spewing out of its nose, pulling the carriage behind it through the pitch-black lampposts.

The carriage is not large, the carriage is painted with black paint, and the windows around it are installed with transparent glass, which looks very delicate and stylish. The coachman sat at the back of the carriage with a long whip in his hand.

The carriage was a two-row seat, with Martin sitting on the side of the horse, flanked by a short, unshaven man, and on the opposite seat, a well-dressed gentleman, the three of whom looked a little cramped in the carriage.

The carriage was moving slowly, and there was an eerie silence in the carriage.

These two were the helpers that Shirley and Eddie had found for Martin, and they were both extremely efficient, and Martin thought that he would have to wait until at least the next day, and thought about going to Mr. Haynes in the afternoon.

Unexpectedly, after the morning had passed, after going to an expensive but undistinctive restaurant next to the auction house with Shirley for lunch, the person she was looking for had already come.

Fortunately, Martin has a basic understanding of the composition of the club, and the internal process of the "burial" business within the club.

Then Eddie's friend appeared, and the three of them rode together in Shirley's friend's carriage to Sir Henry Goode's house.

Eddie's friend's name is Octav Bowitt, and in addition to the fact that the name is a bit strange, Martin thinks that this middle-aged man's demeanor is also a bit peculiar.

Octave wears a thin trench coat and despite wearing boots, he is not so tall that the trench coat almost drags to the ground.

His scarf was old and unkempt, and his high-topped felt hat covered most of his head, so that Martin could only see the black blindfold of his left eye and the unusually wide nose.

If his clothes were more shabby, he could have been a vagabond.

Sure enough, the crazy woman's friend doesn't look very normal, otherwise she wouldn't be friends with Eddie.

Shirley's helper was different, he was a young man, he looked like he was in his early twenties, he was in a straight suit, a long black coat, and shiny leather shoes.

When introducing him, Shirley highlighted that his teacher was a well-known mortuary who had been invited by royal families from various countries to arrange funeral activities for royal family members.

The man, whom Shirley called Salomon, was a man of few words, but rather wealthy, and offered to take a public carriage to Sir Henry's house when Martin offered to take him to Sir Henry's house, and that they could ride it together.

Martin decisively agreed, after all, free carriages are not often available.

"Hey, I said."

Octave broke the silence in the carriage, and he had been looking at the elaborate decorations of the carriage since he got on the train, and finally couldn't help but ask Salomon.

"How much does such a private carriage cost for a week?"

Salomon, who closed his eyes and took a nap, opened his eyes, glanced at Octave, and replied lightly:

"Billed by mileage."

"You should negotiate a fixed price with the driver, or he will definitely give you a detour."

"I bet he'll get around the road."

Octave understood the look on his face, and he raised an eyebrow at Salomon.

Salomon closed his eyes again and replied with a blank face:

"I don't care."

Octave choked on this answer, hesitated for a moment, and then said:

"Instead of renting a private carriage like this, it would be cheaper to take a public carriage and meet a lot of interesting people, and wouldn't it be better to save money to buy some beer in the tavern or play a game of cards at the [Midnight Round]."

He leaned against the goose down cushion behind him with a big grin, as if he had really met "interesting people" in the railcar as he claimed, and he seemed to have a different passion for taverns and gaming tables.

In the face of Octave's somewhat presumptuous "suggestion", Salomon did not show any dissatisfaction, he still said in a flat tone:

"I just don't like being around people."

"To me, corpses are more like friends, they are honest and never hide their secrets or bother you."

Salomon smiled at the corners of his mouth, as if reminiscing about the warm time.

Hearing Salomon's description of the corpse, Martin, who had been quietly listening, began to look at him curiously, this young gentleman had a different kind of atmosphere, from his body Martin seemed to see the cemetery at dusk and the yellow roses stained with dew.

It was the breath of death.

Martin was a little curious about the young man's experience.

"Oh! The goddess is above! I can't believe you think that! ”

Octave let out an exaggerated scream, like a little girl making a fuss.

Martin felt that there was something strange about his tone, as if it were a deliberate disguise.

"Jingle bells-"

Octave was about to continue to say something, when the bell rang behind the carriage, reminding them that their destination had arrived.

Martin stepped out of the carriage and found them in a somewhat remote manor, surrounded by no buildings other than a road and a dense jungle, and the carriage was parked in front of a fenced iron gate.

Behind the fence was a three-story red-walled villa, and the doors and windows of the villa were closed, and the curtains were all closed.

"Hell! Something is wrong everywhere in this manor! ”

Octave sighed loudly when he saw this somewhat strange manor.

Salomon also walked down after a few words of advice to the coachman, and Martin found that he had a wooden makeup case in his hand, this Western-style box matched his dress and temperament, and he really looked like a makeup artist.

Octave went up to call the door, and an old man dressed as a butler came over to open the door slowly, much to Octave's chagrin.

After explaining their intentions to the butler and showing them the shepherd's badge, the three Martins walked into the manor, which still looked a little depressed in the sun.

As he looked around, Octave said mysteriously to Martin:

"Do you feel that this house is weird?"

"Damn, I'm going to kick Shirley's ass hard! She's a stupid groundhog! She doesn't even charge for this kind of task! ”

Martin was a little confused.

"Why kick Shirley's ass? Didn't Eddie come for you? ”

Hearing Martin's question, Octave turned his head and glanced at him, he shook his head a little nervously, and said decadently:

"It doesn't matter! You're a groundhog too! ”

Martin closed his mouth in amusement.

The three of them were led by the butler up the stairs through a heavy door and into a large hall, where the checkerboard tiles on the floor, the busts on either side of the door, and the huge carved staircase facing them all showed the wealth of the master's family.

Huge busts hung on the walls on either side of the staircase, and the three visitors seemed to be stared at by a pair of inexplicable eyes, and a strange tension spread through Martin's mind.

A well-dressed middle-aged man walked slowly down the steps to the hall, he had blonde hair and a thick beard that was beautifully groomed, but at this time there was some exhaustion on his face.

He was the commissioner of the mission, Sir Henry Goode.

It was his father, James Good, a 73-year-old aristocrat, who died.

Henry stepped forward and took Martin's hand, and said in a slightly gleeful tone:

"You're finally here."

The sound of jazz echoed through the hall, and the hall seemed to be more and more empty and silent.

He identified Martin as the leader of the trio, perhaps because Octave was a bit raunchy and Salomon was too young in a crisp suit.

His eyes skimmed directly over Octave, and he quietly stopped on Salomon for a moment, nodded and said:

"Bishop Thomas said that the Shepherds' Club has the best mortuary in all of Cavedes, and he was right."

Octave pursed his lips with some disdain at this scene, and Sir Henry, the mouse, did not pay attention to him.

It turned out to be an introduction to the church...

Martin is also curious about the origin of the club's business, even from the point of view of the [Birthal Bed Hall], the number of commissions of the club is very large, and it involves a wide range, but during the time Martin came to Cavides, he basically did not hear the title "shepherd".

Only once, in the mouth of the butler of the Turner housekeeper, but he also seemed to be very secretive about the word.

How did the shepherds' club, which has no reputation, receive so many commissions? Or are there some "ads" that Martin doesn't know are only visible to the upper echelons?

The doubts were partially solved, and Martin took Sir Henry's hand with some warmth, and he found that this sir's hand was a little cold, and his palms seemed to be a little sweaty.

"You've won a prize."

"We can start now, where is the body of the old sir?"

There was an unexplained urgency in Martin's heart, and he wanted to finish this mission and get out of here as soon as possible.

"On the second floor, I'll take you there."

Sir Henry nodded, and seemed to be pleased with the efficiency of Martin's actions.

He led the three of them up the staircase in the center of the hall to the second floor, where Martin walked through the busts and found that the people in these portraits looked a little like Sir Goode.

They made their way to the second-floor hallway, through the long carpeted hallway, to a wooden door covered in black velvet, and Henry pushed the door.

Martin noticed that he was using a lot of force when pushing the door, which seemed to be heavy.

As the wooden door was pushed open, a strong, somewhat pungent aromatic smell wafted out of the room.

Sir Henry turned his head, with some sweat on his forehead, and said to the three:

"We have been observing for three days, as is customary, to make sure that my father is not in a deep sleep or fainting."

Martin nodded, and said in a deep voice:

"Please mourn."

Henry nodded in response and led a few people into the room.

There were many black curtains hanging in the room, and incense was lit on the table, which was probably where Martin's smell came from.

The windows were all closed, the curtains were down, and the room was a little dim, apparently lit by candles.

Between the curtains was a tall bed with white sheets, and a figure lay on the bed.

This must have been the deceased old Sir Goode.

Martin followed Henry forward and asked softly:

"Is there anything we need to pay attention to?"

Henry turned around when he heard this, and the light of the candle shone on the left side of his face, while the right side of his face was in the darkness.

Martin heard his somewhat hoarse voice say:

"There's a strange place."

"In the days since my father died, my eyes haven't been fully closed."