"How's that, do you know?" Franka looked sideways at the silent Lumian.

Lumian withdrew his gaze from the mirror of the gradually mooping lake, and replied in a deep voice, "Huge. People from Artois, I've seen in his campaign."

Franka frowned, put away the makeup mirror, and said, "What the hell is going on?"

Lumian gave a general account of what happened to Ruhl and Michel, and finally said, "This man is very problematic."

Franka sighed and said, "It's so miserable that you can be a scavenger, why would this happen." She then scoffed, "Yuge. Artois can be judged by Lady Moon as an enlightened enough person, and I am not surprised that there are any strange guys around." At this point, Franka paused, looked at Lumian and said, "Huge. Artois is now a member of Parliament, and there is no lack of protection, both openly and secretly, and if we do something against him or the people around him, it is easy to be traced, and the consequences are very serious.

"I'd better leave this matter to the official Extraordinary for follow-up investigation, I can't guarantee anything else, at least the purifiers of the Inquisition and the members of the Mechanical Heart will not turn a blind eye to similar things, and will definitely find a way to find out the truth of the matter and the situation of the target."

Lumian nodded slowly, and instead asked, "Which path and which sequence will that be?" A mouthful of phlegm can infect a person with such a deadly disease."

On the way from the Golden Rooster Hotel to White Coat Street, he carefully recalled the low-level information of the twenty-two divine paths recorded in Auror's witchcraft notes, and found that none of them matched the current situation.

Franka thought for a moment and said, "I know about the twenty-two divine paths as well as your sister. It's just that in some aspects I'll get a little deeper, and I can think of only one sequence that meets the criteria, but it's higher and limited to female, which doesn't match the target." Since we have all met the Great Mother and the Scroller of the Mother Tree of Desire, why can't the target be someone who has received the gift of another evil god?

"Hehe, if it really involves the cult of evil gods, the extraordinary people of the two major churches will definitely work harder.

"Well, Ruhl's death is very distinctive, as long as the police who come to explore the scene are not blind, they will quickly report it to the higher authorities and let someone who can handle it deal with it."

Lumian let out an "um" and softened a little.

After saying goodbye to Franca, he returned to the Golden Rooster Hotel.

As she passed the front desk, Mrs. Firth stood up and said, with a little fear and flattery, "Good morning, Mr. Charles."

A few days ago, the police informed her that Mr. Eff believed in a cult and became a wanted criminal, and asked her to use the rent income during this period to pay for all expenses, maintain the normal operation of the hotel, and keep accounts, and when the election is over, they will deal with the fate of the Golden Rooster Hotel as soon as possible.

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The flavors mingle and diffuse in the brighter and brighter light.

Lumien stared for more than ten seconds, then slowly turned and left.

It was almost eight o'clock, and the last time the two policemen were notified, they arrived at the Golden Rooster Hotel and saw Lumian, who had been disguised with "voyeur glasses".

"Why are you dead again?" The policeman who had questioned Lumian before asked unhappily.

His face is deep, but his facial features are not good, and he looks a little old.

Lumien replied calmly, "One is sick and dead, and I am not a doctor, so I can't save him."

"And another?" The policeman asked.

Lumian said calmly, "I was struck and hanged myself."

The old-looking policeman frowned, and moved into room 302 with his companion.

The first thing he saw was Mrs. Michelle's body hanging from the window frame, instinctively covering her nose.

It's so dirty and smelly here!

Then, his gaze swept over Ruhl's corpse, seeing patches of festering skin and flesh.

"***, that's called getting sick?" He couldn't help but turn his head and look at Lumian with a look of horror and fear.

Lumian briefly described what had happened last night, but he didn't mention that when he was at Roebling's Clinic, his condition had deteriorated, and he had to fill half a bottle of "healing potion" to save it, and give the credit to the Fool Pharmaceuticals Company's antipyretic potions.

He also recounted the details of his suspicion that the Ruhrs had collected the garbage last night and told them to sleep in room 307, and Mrs. Michelle mentioned that there was a silk handkerchief in the bathroom.

The more the two policemen listened, the more silent they became, and their expressions were a little wrong.

When Lumien finished speaking, they quickly went to the bathroom to confirm the presence of the silk handkerchief.

The old-looking policeman looked at Charles outside, and said to his companion in a suppressed voice, "It's another occult incident, you watch the scene here, and I'll report it."

The other policeman nodded, "No problem." Lumian watched them divide his labor, patiently waiting for the official Extraordinaire to arrive.

In less than two quarters of an hour, the old-looking policeman returned to the Golden Rooster Hotel.

He was the only one.

What about the official extraordinary? Lumien's eyes widened slightly.

The old-looking policeman avoided Lumien and pulled his companion to the end of the hallway, where they exchanged words in a whisper.

Lumian was far away, and tried to listen but couldn't make out what was being said.

After a while, the old-looking policeman walked up to Lumian and said with a serious face, "It is preliminarily confirmed that he died of illness and committed suicide."

Don't do the survey anymore? Lumian's eyebrows twitched slightly.

The policeman repeated what he had said when he took Flemish's body, put on his gloves, put on his gloves, put the silk handkerchief in a cloth bag, and fastened it vigorously.

Lumian watched in silence as they put down the corpses, wrapped the Ruhrs, and put them in the body bag, and all kinds of thoughts were mixed in their minds: "This kind of death, the official extraordinary people think that there is no problem, and there is no need to investigate?" Or did the police not report the matter, and the official extraordinary person did not know about it?

"Someone stopped him and told him to treat this as if it were an ordinary death penalty that did not involve a criminal offense?

One by one, Lumian quietly followed behind the policeman who carried the two bodies onto the wagon.

He stayed farther away, sniffing the remaining stench from Ruhl and Michel, and tracked it all the way to the door of the police headquarters in the market area.

Looking at the gate where uniformed police officers entered and exited from time to time, Lumian frowned slightly.

He initially suspected that a police officer had stopped the two policemen, but could not confirm who it was.

Even if he followed up with the police headquarters, given the environment there and his identity, it would be impossible for him to trace all the way to the corresponding office, and if he looked outside, he would have no way of knowing who walked out of the door was in trouble.

Lumian thought about the direction of the investigation again: "Find Franca

By divination?

"But there's no medium at all." To put it another way, why did that officer block the investigation? Did he know that someone was going to be involved, or was someone already on his radar about something like that in advance?

"If it's the latter, it's probably a powerful figure in the councilor's office."

Feeling relieved, Lumi left the entrance of the police headquarters and walked briskly to the earthy four-story building where the congressman's office in the market district was located.

He crouched down at the mouth of the alley across the street, with a group of homeless people as his companion.

Not long after, he saw a police officer.

The officer was round, in his early forties, with brown hair and blue eyes, and a silver-white vetiver iris split into three petals on his black epaulettes.

This represents the Chief Inspector, who is one level below the Superintendent.

Watching the Chief Inspector walk into the Congressman's office, Lumian curled the corners of his mouth and smiled slightly.

The second floor of that earthy four-story building.

Teebert, pale, with curly yellow hair, entered the office of the councillor's secretary.

The secretary was in his thirties, his black hair was neatly combed, his blue eyes were blocked by gold-rimmed glasses, his facial features were upright, and his temperament was gentle.

He looked at Tibert, who was coughing intermittently, threw out a cloth bag, and said with a cold expression, "Your handkerchief has been recovered."

Tybert, with dark yellow curly hair, dressed in a black suit, smiled and said, "Soon."

"Bastard." The secretary of the councillor scolded, "Don't you know that your phlegm can infect others? Aren't you afraid that the people of the two major churches will find out?"

Tibert's brown eyes were blank, and he said indifferently, "At most, two or three untouchables will die, and no one will care about them.

"I've been sick long enough and haven't received a new gift, which makes me irritable and want to kill." The councillor's secretary looked at him for a few seconds and rebuked in a deep voice, "If I hadn't taken precautions in advance, the Purifier would have come to you." It's okay if you're dead, don't affect us.

"Tibert, there's no next time."

Tibert shrugged his shoulders and accepted the criticism.