Mystery: Mr. Witch and Ms. Hunter

Chapter 80 Tracking
Early the next morning, Altaïr walked through the streets of the East End. There was a small cut on his chin, from when he went to the bathroom to shave out of habit in the morning when he was half-conscious.

Fortunately, the ritual was carried out slowly. If they had taken the potion directly like the witches before, I'm afraid there would be more jokes now...

Altaïr touched the necklace on his chest. The pendant inlaid with sapphire was so hard that it made him feel uncomfortable.

Today, he was going to personally go to the points he had identified earlier to investigate. After all, it involved a Sequence 6 warrior, and Altaïr did not want those bounty hunters to die in vain, especially since their death could easily alert the enemy.

Altaïr reviewed the map in his mind and determined his first target.

It was a very small B&B. The red lantern hanging at the door told passers-by that the services provided here were not limited to food and accommodation.

Artair pushed open the crude iron door of the B&B and walked into the narrow hallway crowded with cluttered furniture. Beside him were tin buckets of hot water, racks with wet towels hanging on them, and dirty walls that smelled of mold.

Hearing the sound of the door opening, a thin man at the front desk looked up and glanced at Altaïr. In his eyes, Altaïr saw deep numbness and fatigue.

"It's 10 pence a day for accommodation, plus 5 pence for food and lodging. Room service is available for soli or soli."

"No one is sick, don't worry, protective measures are provided in the room."

"No, sir, I'm not here to stay, I'm here to ask you something." Altaïr shook his head, took out his police ID from his pocket and waved it in front of him. "Among the recent customers of your hotel, are there any who often go out at night? I'm asking you on behalf of the Sivellas Field, and I hope you can cooperate with our work."

Altaïr expected that after he announced the name of Sivellas Field, the gentleman in front of him would most likely show a look of fear, and then, like other honest people Altaïr had seen, he would cower and complete the order under urging.

However, the innkeeper's expression did not change at all, as if emotions had died from his body. He struggled to prop himself up with both hands, stood up with difficulty, and shouted to the dark corridor behind him: "Lila, Lopez! Get ready and come out quickly, the police officer wants to question you!"

As he stood up, Altaïr noticed that his left leg seemed to be unsteady, and judging by the sound, he might have a wooden prosthesis hidden beneath his calf trousers.

Then, two women came out of the dark corridor in dishevel. They were wearing thin, tattered cotton jackets, and the older one was spreading something like a sheet on the younger prostitute. They exuded a warm and stinking smell of low-quality cotton wool and sweat, mixed with the unique smell of Backlund in the early morning, which was like a rusty iron fence.

"Officer, this kid just turned eighteen last month. He won't be arrested, will he?"

The older woman, whose skin was still inevitably covered with wrinkles despite some maintenance after working in the sex trade, asked in a flattering manner.

"Are you familiar with her?"

Altaïr frowned.

"Lope is the daughter of Rand and me." The older woman named Lila pointed at the man sitting at the counter and said calmly.

……

At the same time, Vinata and Mike came to Mr. Buffett's factory.

“I’m glad you guys are here.”

Mr. Buffett walked in front, and beside him were old Lynch holding his cane and his financial secretary, Imir Smith. Vinata and the other two followed behind him and listened to him introduce his factory.

"Ever since Mr. Hibbert Hall pushed for bills related to air pollution control and improvement of workers' treatment, our factory has made the workers' situation its top priority..."

Mr. Buffett waved in the direction of the factory, where looms were scattered all over the place, the field was open, and the female workers were in high spirits and in very good spirits. Mike also took the opportunity to chat with him, and for a while, both the host and the guest were very happy and the scene was very lively.

However, Venata did not blend into this false warm atmosphere. The hunter's keen observation and Altaïr's previous warning made her discover the incongruity of this factory.

There was a faint white mark in the middle of the two rows of looms, as if the second row of looms that were originally placed here had been dragged out.

The temperature was very low, there was a smell of fog in the air, and there was a layer of frost on the walls, which must have been blown away by the wind overnight.

The expressions on the women workers' faces seem positive, but if you look closely, there's a morbid feeling that makes you want to look away.

Vinata had seen this look before. The Zmanger Party was used to giving the cannon fodder a certain dose of ephedrine before the battle, so that they could maintain their courage to fight. The fanaticism on the faces of those who took stimulants was exactly the same as that of the female workers in front of them.

"The room in front was originally Loen's air raid shelter. Now it is used as a warehouse by our factory to store some production failures that are inconvenient to handle. Because it has not been opened for many years, the interior is seriously moldy. We will not visit it today."

Mr. Buffett waved his short, fat hand and led Vinata to another corridor. At the same time, Vinata pretended to look at the heavy door.

She didn't believe a word of what Mr. Buffett said. If that was really a warehouse that was not allowed to enter, then the traces of dragging the loom left in the house would not point to the door outside the house where they came from, but to the door.

Vinata quietly brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, which was her action to activate her spiritual vision.

Yesterday, Vinata solidified a ritual magic on her eyes, allowing her to obtain more information through her psychic vision during the day. Obtaining information about prey is also a required course for hunters. Those different colored light balls in her eyes constantly shrink and expand, instilling information such as age, physical condition, gender, etc. into Vinata's brain through the connection between spirits.

Then, Venata rubbed her eyes doubtfully, suspecting that something was wrong with her ritual magic.

"Ms. Sevens, what's wrong with you? Is there sand in your eyes?"

Mike Joseph noticed that Winata had not caught up and asked in confusion.

"Sorry, there was some dust falling on the ceiling just now." Vinata hurriedly followed, and before leaving, she couldn't help but take a look with her naked eyes.

However, all the abnormalities had disappeared, and she only saw a panicked rat running straight into the warehouse door.

(End of this chapter)