Even though the weather is pretty good today, and the countryside is even more sunny, the manor is completely covered by the shadow of the hills and the surrounding scenery is desolate, which still makes people unconsciously think of those horrible stories.

　　 The coachman who sent Jenkins said that although he often came nearby, he never noticed that there was a small manor here.

　　Because the road ahead was difficult to walk, the carriage did not take Jenkins to the entrance of the manor, so he let him down.

　　 The building in front of me knows that it has been some years, the stone wall outside the manor has been dyed green by creepers, and the path connecting the country road has been buried in the grass, and only a small part of it has been cleared out before the gate.

　　 A slanted wooden sign stands at the entrance of the manor, and it says [Private territory, with evil dogs], but Jenkins quite doubts whether anyone will come to such a remote place.

　　 He looked at the door for a while, but he didn't see anything like a bell. So I stood on tiptoe and looked inward at the door, trying to see if anyone in the manor could find someone at the door, but there was no one in the courtyard.

Chapter 1392 The God Who Appeared Unexpectedly

　　 I can see people in the windows of the building with tiptoes as far as I can see, but the people in the house obviously don't like to look outside.

　　 "Hello, is anyone there? I'm here to visit Viscount Franca."

　　 Helplessly, he can only stand at the door and shout loudly inward. This is quite rude behavior. If it is against his own face, Jenkins will never do this.

　　 But this is obviously useful. Half a minute after the loud shout was over, the door of the three-story building was pushed open. The man dressed like an old housekeeper slowly walked along the path in the overgrown courtyard to the door, and looked at the stranger with the cat standing on his shoulder through the fence.

　　 "Sorry, who are you?"

　　 asked the old housekeeper, although he was the housekeeper of the country aristocracy, his accent had a very strong Berdylan style.

　　 "Hello, I'm here to visit Viscount Franca, is he home?"

　　 "Hello sir, may I ask what's the matter?"

　　 "I found an old letter addressed to the Franca family. I think the Viscount will be interested."

　　 As he said, he showed the letter. The old butler obviously wanted to check it, but Jenkins didn't give it to him.

"Look at my dress, you know that I am a decent person. And I came here so far from Nolan, but I didn't want to deceive anyone... You see, I wear such an expensive ring Can people be a liar?"

　　 said that he showed his ouroboros gold ring. I don't know if it was because Jenkins chose the image this time, or the noble color of the ring moved the old man. He finally opened the door for Jenkins.

　　 The hinge of the door hadn't been lubricated for a long time, and it screamed when it opened.

　　 The area of ​​the manor is not large, not to mention that it is not comparable to the suburban manor of Dolores, or even the residence of the Marquis of Mihail in Nolan.

Although it looks very dilapidated from the outside, after entering the building, it is found that the interior decoration is quite good. The walls have been painted recently and have a strong smell. The oil paintings on the walls are also newly hung, and the vases are specially purchased. Porcelain, this costs a lot of money.

　　 "Your Excellency has only recently planned to move here for a period of time, so the outside yard did not have time to clean up, and it is still decorating the interior of the manor."

　　 The butler probably saw Jenkins's question, and said as he walked with him.

　　 After coming in from the doorway, it is the stairs through the corridor. Walking down the stairs to the second floor, the old housekeeper knocked on the second door on the left, indicating that someone was visiting, and Jenkins walked in after getting permission.

　　 This is a study room, with bookshelves on all four walls, only the door is left, and a window is left for ventilation. The curtains are closed, but because the three gas lamps in the room and the candlestick on the table are all on, the room is not dim.

　　 Jenkins had the idea that the fire here is very dangerous, and I don’t know whether he should remind him.

Viscount Franka was sitting behind the desk. He was a tall and thin middle-aged man with a slender face. His hair was brown, his chin had a carefully trimmed beard, and his face was also wearing a pair of golden frames. Glasses.

　　 When Jenkins came in, the Viscount was putting down the big book in his hand. Jenkins didn't read the title clearly, but wanted to come up with some serious academic work.

　　 "Good afternoon, Viscount Franka. I took the liberty to come to visit, there is really a very important thing. Oh, you can call me Poirot, sorry for not bringing a business card."

　　 "Please sit down, Mr. Poirot. It may be a little luck that the gods have given me to meet strange visitors in such a boring morning. Hull, please make us some hot tea."

　　 He said to the old butler standing at the door, who answered softly and then closed the door of the study, and Viscount Franka looked at Jenkins with interest.

　　 "Mr. Poirot, you look like a city man. Are you from Nolan? It must have taken you a long time to be here?"

　　 "Yes, I set off from Nolan yesterday afternoon and spent the night in Yorktown. I crossed the river and came to Romantown this morning. I found your address from the sheriff at the entrance of the town."

　　 "Speaking of which, the murderer has not been found in the serial murder?"

　　 Viscount asked curiously.

　　 "I don't know, it's just that someone died in the town last night. I heard that this is the third victim in a serial homicide."

"This is really scary. Roman Town is not a big city like Nolan. There are not many people here, and there will not necessarily be a vicious murder case in a few years... Forget it, let's talk about it. The topic is about, let me read this letter."

　　 He reached out and picked up the letter paper Jenkins had placed on the desk, felt the texture of the letter paper with his fingers, and then opened the letter.

　　 Jenkins has already read the content of the letter. It is in modern lingua franca. There are only a few lines of letters in it. The rough meaning is to let the person who gets the letter look for the Franka family to get paid.

At normal speed, you can read all the contents in at most half a minute, but Jenkins waited for a while without seeing Viscount Franka put down the letter, so he frowned and tilted his head to see the expression on the face after the letter. , The Viscount was motionless like a sculpture.

　　 The study room was very quiet. Jenkins thought the atmosphere was a bit weird, so he patted his cat and wanted it to cry to break the silence, and then reprimanded it again, so that the Viscount had to speak.

　　 But now the chocolate in the state of flower cat is extremely uncooperative, Jenkins can only cough himself, and then say sorry to Viscount Franka in an exaggerated tone. The latter did not respond at all, and helplessly, Jenkins could only say softly:

　　 "Viscount Franka, what do you think of this letter?"

"My point of view?"

　　 Viscount finally spoke, but his voice was a little weird. Jenkins was taken aback, and subconsciously leaned back. At this moment, Viscount Franka finally put the letter in his hand on the table again.

　　 It is clear that the other's appearance has not changed at all, but the middle-aged man who is watching him at this moment seems to be a different person. If the former Viscount Franka was an elegant and easy-going scholar, then the current Viscount Franka is like a bottomless abyss, staring at him is also like looking up at the sky where the end cannot be seen. The strange temperament Jenkins is very familiar with.

"you......"

　　 "Good day, the **** of lies."

　　 He showed a real smile to Jenkins, the letter in his hand has been transformed into a spirit with the power of the purest god, and it has escaped into this world:

　　 "It is a pleasure to meet you here in the morning of this material world. I think even if there are no poets or scholars to record our meeting at this moment, the next conversation will be very meaningful."

Chapter 1393 Chapter 1370 Gifts and Small Troubles

　　 "Viscount Franka" just smiled and talked to Jenkins. Although the face was still the original face, the inner core was no longer the original mortal.

"you are......"

　　 Jenkins was already speechless.

"I am the ancestor of this body in the distant past. When my blood comes into contact with this letter, I will automatically receive the message and obtain the beacon of the material world. I want to clear the curse of the mad poet. A small gift..."

　　 Seeing that Jenkins looked wary and wanted to turn around and ran away, he smiled and continued:

　　 "Forgot to introduce myself, my real name cannot tell you, but people like to call me [Hovering Mist]."

This is not the first time Jenkins has seen real gods in the material world. On the last day of last year, he saw five gods at once. Later, after returning from the mirror world, the former **** of lies visited with the [Doctor of Doom]. His home.

　　 But this does not mean that he is very used to meeting God, let alone the other party using this "surprise" way of appearance, which is too frightening.

　　 "You... hello, nice to meet you."

　　 was not ready to talk to a **** before, and Jenkins didn’t know what to say in a hurry.

"Fate is always impermanent. Even if I become a god, I often lament this. The **** of lies, this letter is indeed left by me. At that time, I was still very weak and could not solve the owner of [Son of Disaster] The curse that was leaked after death, so it was left behind so that future generations can solve this matter. I think you can probably guess that [Son of Disaster] is one of the saviors of the fifteenth era, and the mad poet Cavendy Xu Ze is the original qualification holder. He has fully mastered this ability before he died, and the savior's ability is so powerful that you can experience it yourself..."

　　 The other party seemed to know all the secrets of Jenkins, and also seemed to know all the things he knew. The intonation is very slow, but quite powerful.

"I didn't expect that after so many years of solving this problem, he would still be a candidate for the savior. This is probably the fate of the saviors... But that's not bad, at least the trouble is solved, Calvin Dish has truly died out in the material world. This can be regarded as the last regret left when I was a mortal."

　　 "So, you and the mad poet are really candidates for the savior of the fifteenth era? You only left your merits and did not leave your name because you really became a god..."

Jenkins stopped at this point. A few seconds later, the door was knocked. After obtaining the consent of "Viscount Franka", the housekeeper and the male servant behind him came in with a saucer and a tea set to help them. Leave after full tea.

"Yes, that's it. The battle with Cavendish was one of the few fierce battles I experienced when I was a mortal. We fought fiercely on the top of the snow-capped mountains for three days, and finally I was dragged to death. He. That was a story a long time ago, and so many years have passed since the material world.

　　 I think what you want more information than my gift. "

　　 He sighed, then closed the book in front of him, indicating that Jenkins could ask questions.

　　 Jenkins took a deep breath. Although he hadn't expected the current situation at all, it was obviously a good opportunity. The **** sitting across the table seemed to be very good at talking:

　　 "It's nice to meet you. Sorry, I still don't understand. Now that you have become a god, why not solve the curse of the mad poet yourself? I think it shouldn't be difficult for the gods."

　　 He very much suspected that the other party was deliberately waiting for him to go to the snow mountain to resolve the matter, and then logically appeared in front of him on the grounds of "giving thanks".

The two gods he has been in contact with the most so far are the former God of Lies and the God of Music. The former used the way of betraying his followers to get involved with Jenkins, thus making a profit. Not only did he lose his identity as a Cthulhu. He also obtained a more suitable priesthood; the latter's routine was even more unexpected for Jenkins. As early as when he first came to this world, he set up a routine to lead him to the Shire and gave him a drop of divinity, and it was logical after half a year. Jenkins asked Jenkins to give back. Although Jenkins still doesn’t know what the **** got in the process of destroying the Skeleton Sword, the design of such a trap is definitely not just for Jenkins to give the music box to the believer.

　　 Not to mention, the relationship between the **** of music and the sage discovered later made Jenkins even more frightened.

　　Therefore, there is reason to believe that these high-dimensional gods who can see fate are extremely good at planning various traps and plans.

"God to God, man to man, even if it was something that I caused myself, when I got rid of my mortal identity, it was no longer a matter of'I'. I don't know if you understand the meaning of this. After all, you still stay among mortals. But there is a big gap and difference between gods and people. Some things can be done, but they are not necessary. For example, gods can clearly solve all the troubles of all mortals in the material world, but generally speaking we It’s the same thing."

　　 The man behind the desk explained patiently.

　　 "So you came to see me this time just to give me a small gift, thank me for solving this small trouble?"

"Yes it is."

　　 "I don't want any gifts, I like stories very much... Can you tell me how you saved the world at the end of the fifteenth era?"

　　 Jenkins asked, trying to put on a curious expression on his face.

"The **** of lies, although this priesthood is not condensed by you, you are definitely more suitable for it than your predecessor... I was also a candidate for the savior, and I know the rules at the end of the era. Sorry, Some things can only be understood by you."

　　 He shrugged his shoulders and replied briskly, quite clearly what Jenkins wanted to know.

　　 "That's it, sure enough."

　　 Jenkins is no longer disappointed by this kind of thing, he is completely used to these guys who know the truth being mysterious.

　　 "But I can give you some hints. After all, I had an identity like you, so I know some ways to circumvent the rules. Besides, you are not a mortal, and some rules that restrict mortals are useless to you."

　　 "What do I need to do for you?"

When 　　 asked this sentence, he saw a smile on the man's face as expected. Jenkins immediately felt that he might be involved in something again.

Chapter 1394 Chapter 1371 Serial Murder

"Don't worry, it's just a small matter. You don't need to be so nervous. Aren't we still talking about the serial murder in Roman Town? Find the murderer before the sun sets and send it here, and I will give it to you Some of the tips you need, not only about the end of the era, but also about the peculiar tobacco. Some of my believers did a little too much this time."

　　 The **** of spice and mist said so, this is his most orthodox name.

　　Roman Town has a small population and a small area. It is an extremely ordinary country town in itself, which is completely incomparable with the northern hot spring town that Jenkins has visited.

　　 Murders in places like this often cause a lot of panic. After all, everyone almost knows that once a murder case occurs, it means that if there are no outsiders living for a long time in the near future, it must be a crime committed by people in the town.

　　To investigate this matter, the easiest way is undoubtedly to act with the police, not only to grasp the latest intelligence, but also to fully understand the cause and effect of the matter.

　　 But it is a pity that Jenkins has no such way. He can't find any reason for the police to agree to join him. After all, he does not have the identity of a well-known detective. The power of lies can be used, but in this way, more than one or two people will be deceived. He is currently unable to use lies on a large scale, at least in the current state.

　　 "So what does that **** want to do?"

　　Jenkins couldn't understand this until he returned to the town. He made a special choice to return from the intersection where he met the police just now, but when he returned to the town, the police and the bodies were gone, except for the mottled blood on the ground.

　　 Even if there is no suitable way to follow the police action, at least most of the time the gold pound is omnipotent. For only a small amount of money, he inquired about the basic information of the three deceased from the owner of the tavern. After that, Jenkins came to the police station in the small town in the name of a writer who was out to collect materials, and tried to obtain some more with his identity data.

The police station in Yorktown has a short history. At least two decades ago, there were only two sheriffs responsible for all the work of the police, forensic doctors, and prison guards. Later, the Yorktown Police Station was added, but there were woven police officers. There are only three.

　　 The sheriff and the middle-aged police officer went out to investigate. Only one young man with freckles remained in the police station. It was just noon now, he was probably full and a little sleepy, his head drooping, Jenkins yelled twice before waking up.

　　 "A foreigner?"

　　 He took a look at Jenkins, then sat up straight and muttered, yawned and took out a form with a strong ink smell from the drawer, and then handed him a pen with a slightly cracked nib:

　　 "If you want to report a crime, please fill in the form by yourself..."

　　He paused, reconfirmed Jenkins's dress, thinking that the person in front of him should be literate, so he didn't mention that he could fill in for it.

　　 "I'm not here to report the crime."

　　 "The toilet is on the left."

　　 "I didn't come to the toilet either."

　　 "Walk slowly and not send it off, I wish you a good time in Yorktown."

　　 said that he lay down again, and it seemed that if someone hadn't really come to report the crime, he would not sit up again.

　　 "Meow~"

　　 The meow on the shoulders was very soft, but Jenkins felt that except for the ridicule in the meowing.

　　 "I'm here to donate."

　　 He said in a very standard Nolan accent, which in the eyes of the country folk is a symbol of "noble birth".