My esoteric uncle Jules

Chapter 47: Mystic Nobles

"absurd!"

Lutos angrily threw the file to the ground, and the raging flames that ignited out of nowhere instantly turned the file into ashes.

"These nobles are just bullshit! They just rely on their connections!"

Sitting behind the desk was a gentleman with sunken eye sockets. He was the same man who had previously confronted the senior officials who stood on the side of the nobles.

The gentleman sighed and said:

"Who told them to inherit from 'Controlled Fire'?"

Lutos gritted his teeth and said:
"But 'Controlled Fire' has clearly stipulated from the very beginning that the descendants of Controlled Fire can never be contaminated by the extraordinary! And now, they are almost treating the Defense Suppression Bureau as their own property!"

"Did you see them infected with it yourself?" the gentleman asked.

Lutos was speechless for a moment, and after a while, he said:

"But, sir, can we just let them..."

"Steel, you are still young. Anger cannot blind your eyes, but it can cloud your heart. You must be careful."

The gentleman leisurely sipped his tea and, in a leisurely tone, recounted some history that even Rutos knew very little about:

"Since the War for Road Rights began three hundred and seventy-eight years ago, Controlled Fire, driven by the English royal family, has conquered everywhere and made unparalleled contributions to the establishment of today's empire.

Although it ultimately failed, its remnants absorbed new forces and reorganized into the current Steam Church, among which some of its former conquerors are still alive.

The controlled fire controls their own fire, so they are noble and pure, but their descendants are not; and some of those who live long in the world, although they controlled fire in the past, are now too old to control their fire.

Their descendants are unwilling to become mortals, and are trying to regain their extraordinary power through various means, even if it means falling into the ranks of cultists. However, the controlled fire, whose eyes are blinded by the flames, chooses to turn a blind eye.

Seeing that Lutos remained silent, he continued:
"Steel, you should understand how powerful the Steam Church's control over the secular world is now, and the extraordinary power hidden within it is so great that even the royal family cannot fathom its extent.

The simplest thing is, how much more difficult do you think your path to advancement would be if you left the Steam Church?

Not to mention, a considerable number of members of the current Suppression Bureau have inherited their skills directly from the Controlled Fire. Although there is no blood connection, the bond formed by knowledge is not necessarily that fragile."

Lutos suddenly raised his head and looked directly at the gentleman:

"Master Centipede, so, are you scared?"

The gentleman codenamed "Centipede" stared into his teacup, his sunken eye sockets shrouded in a haze.
"Afraid? If I were afraid, would I still be able to sit where I am now?"

The words were calm, yet they carried a murderous aura that came from a sea of ​​corpses and blood.

“They wanted to target the new agent, not only to protect the nobles’ reputation, but also to test our bottom line.

If we take one step back today, five steps back tomorrow, sooner or later we will reach the edge of a cliff, with nowhere to retreat!"

Lutos's eyes moved slightly:
"My lord, what do you mean?"

Gentleman Centipede slowly raised his head:
"My power of pardon is just not used, it's not gone away."

"Those who carry firewood for the people should not be allowed to freeze to death in the wind and snow..."

……

"Get out of the way! Get out of here!"

At the door of the apartment, a group of people were crowded and arguing, and the leader was even more arrogant.

Mrs. Boleyn stopped at the door and tried to persuade her earnestly:

"Officers, Jules has always been a good citizen. How could he have committed a crime?"

"You damn old woman, what are you doing blocking my way here?! Get out of the way! If you keep blocking me, I can't guarantee that something might happen here!"

Amid the commotion, Mrs. Boleyn saw Holmes coming down the stairs from the corner of her eye. "Mr. Holmes, please try to persuade them!"

Hearing Mrs. Boleyn's plea, Holmes focused his gaze on the group of police officers. In a breath, he had taken a thorough look at everyone in front of him.

"Are you going to arrest Jules?" he asked calmly.

"That's right! We are here to uphold the justice of the Empire. We must send the criminals to prison and uphold the law!"

When the man said this, he was dignified and righteous, and he regarded himself as a defender of law and order.

Holmes's mouth twitched slightly, revealing a hint of sarcasm:

"Do you have a search warrant and an arrest warrant? They have to be official ones issued by the police station, and they have to be stamped. I can recognize them."

The visitor's face froze, but he still said sternly:
"That's not important! What's important is that we are police officers sent by the police station, the executors of the law. Jules has committed a crime, and we must send him to prison!"

Every time they emphasized this kind of thing, he would understand what the other party was really thinking... Holmes said calmly:
"If you don't have a search warrant or arrest warrant, please go back and apply for one before coming back.

Otherwise, according to the imperial law, it is not a crime to shoot illegal intruders."

……

At this time, Jules had no idea what was happening.

He sat in the antique shop, bored, waiting for his cane to be repaired.

From time to time, he could see new guests coming in, and all of them were received by the old maid.

"Matilda... I wonder how the story of "The Necklace" develops in this world?" Jules couldn't help but imagine.

Suddenly, the old maid came running over and bowed, saying:
"Mr. Jules, your things have been repaired. The eldest lady asked you to go into the room to see her."

"Okay, thank you."

Jules stood up and walked in the direction the old maid pointed.

The heavy oak door opened, and a chill suddenly ran up his spine.

It is not only a chill in the physical sense, but also a tremor unique to the soul at the perceptual level!
It was like a sharp knife was dangling on his back, ready to cut him down at any moment.

Jules saw that Matilda was holding the cane in her arms and looking at him quietly.

He immediately understood where the chill came from—it was from that cane!

In stark contrast to what I remembered, the cane had been repaired and could hardly be called a cane. Perhaps a scepter would be more appropriate.

Three ferocious saber-toothed tiger fangs have been embedded in the top of the staff, forming a protective posture.

One can even see obvious signs of weathering on it, which shows that it is very old, as old as the scepter itself.

"Sir, your scepter is repaired."

Matilda gently handed over the scepter.

Holding the scepter, Jules felt a special heaviness.

Even though its surface was polished to a mirror-smooth consistency and the wood used was of the finest, warm-textured quality, he still felt it was a little prickly.

Matilda's regretful voice also sounded:

"I thought it could be completely repaired, but unfortunately, once something is cracked, it can never be restored to its original state."

"However, despite this, the blade principle attached to it is still at the third level. You must be careful."

(End of this chapter)