I'm really a serious wizard.

Chapter 274 Verex's Letter (Part 2)

In the darkness, a gleaming, cold-looking butcher's knife slashed down diagonally.

The sharp blade silently sliced ​​through the air, moving so fast it was almost a blur.

pat-

The crisp sound of the crystal chandelier switching on suddenly rang out, sounding like a car horn to the demon boss.

Vivian's bedroom was instantly brightly lit, without a single shadow.

"Wow!"

"Who are you!?"

Two exclamations rang out simultaneously. However, as a professional assassin, Hector Mitchell was startled, but he also understood that only by capturing the hostage could he gain the upper hand.

Without hesitation, he even increased the speed of his knife swings.

Just as the butcher's knife was about to be placed against Vivian's neck, Hector Mitchell suddenly felt his center of gravity shift abruptly.

The sharp knife sliced ​​through the air, then fell with its momentum, embedding itself in his right leg.

"what!"

The sudden accident caused him to scream, and his body inevitably tilted backward.

What a hell!
He clearly didn't hear any noise or smell anyone else, so why was he thwarted just when he was about to succeed?

Hector rolled over to the bedside, his eyes scanning the area instinctively for any sign of the enemy.

next second.

"There's a ghost!"

"Ghost, ghost!"

Two gasps rang out simultaneously as the two living people in the bedroom saw the translucent ghostly figure fiddling with the crystal chandelier switch.

She was no different from a typical ghost or vengeful spirit; her face was pale and her hair was disheveled. She was looking in this direction with resentful and sorrowful pale purple eyes.

"ghost?"

Fiona looked around in confusion.
No spiritual beings were found in the suite.

However, she immediately realized what was happening and put her hands on her hips, saying:
"Don't you two have any sense? How do I look like a ghost?"

how?

Does your federation discriminate against ghosts?
Especially you, a vampire, what gives you the audacity to say "Grandma" to me?

Fiona rolled her eyes inwardly, but remained blocking the doorway without taking any action.

Just then, a series of scrambling footsteps came from outside the bedroom.

"Vivian, what happened? What are you doing here?!"

Almost the instant he heard the scream, Ron, who had already pulled up his pants, finally arrived.

His azure eyes swept across the room and instantly locked onto the only stranger in the bedroom—the owner of the barbecue stall selling unclean meat skewers.

They actually delivered themselves to our doorstep.
Upon seeing this, Ron's brain short-circuited for a moment, but he immediately reacted and blocked the only exit from the bedroom with his body.

However, before he could take the next step,
The barbecue stall owner immediately hid the knife behind his back and laughed heartily:
"Uh, there was a discount at the barbecue restaurant before, but I forgot about it, so I quickly came over to return the extra cash to you."

After saying that, Hector Mitchell secretly glanced at Ron's expression.
Seeing that the other person's expression remained utterly indifferent, he brandished the butcher knife in his hand and chuckled again:

"As a chef, it's perfectly reasonable to carry your cooking utensils with you, isn't it?"

But just as he finished speaking, the ID he had hidden in his inner pocket flew out of the pocket due to gravity and landed with a thud at Ron's feet.

Ron took a closer look.

Assassin's License

[Master of Dark Cuisine]

These two professional certification certificates undoubtedly confirm the specific identity of the person in front of you.

Damn!

It was that ghost who caused this!

Hector Mitchell was startled and lost all hope. He looked at the boy in front of him, whose face was still tense, and suddenly shouted.

This was the most dangerous situation he had encountered in all his years in the world of culinary disasters.

The diner, who had eaten his food but was still alive, trapped him in the bedroom.

Just from Ron's murderous face, he knew that he was probably in grave danger.

but
"I'm not a coward!"

Before the words were even finished, the people had already started moving.

Hector Mitchell suddenly lunged towards Vivian.

However, just as he made a move, he suddenly felt a change in the gravity around him, and his forward momentum turned upward, causing him to crash heavily onto the ceiling.

It was only then that Vivian seemed to realize what was happening.

She hurriedly jumped barefoot off the bed, intending to hide behind Ron.
But upon seeing the faintly visible ghost, they instinctively stopped in their tracks.

"Mr. Ron, what's going on? Who is he?"

"Also, why are there ghosts in my room?"

The blond boy's face turned serious.

“Miss Vivian, I must emphasize this.”

Hearing this, Fiona, who had wanted to emphasize her own importance, nodded in satisfaction.

She hadn't expected Ron to be so sensible.

After all, it's two different things to brag about yourself and to have others brag about you.

"This is not a ghost!"

Ron pointed at Grandma Fiona, then quickly said:
"She is my substitute, and her ability is to cast star magic."

"A stand-in?" Vivian was completely bewildered.

"That's right, a Stand is an illusion composed of one's own life energy."

bump--

Fiona delivered a chop to Ron's forehead.

"Be serious with me, Grandma!"

"Hey, you rude vampire! I'm a powerful mage who has achieved demigod status and lived for over a thousand years. I'm a big shot that you guys would never even meet in your lifetime!"

"You'd better show me some respect!"

Fiona raised her chin and looked at everyone in the room with disdain.

To be honest, Ron felt a little embarrassed by Vivian's surprised and strange gaze.

He coughed lightly and added:
"In short, this is Lady Fiona, a powerful mage from over a thousand years ago who once knew Chrisel."

"Although it is currently only a soul form, it is still powerful and reliable."

She once knew Chrisel, a powerful mage, and an ancient soul.
Isn't that still a ghost?

Vivian was initially taken aback by the string of titles, but then she realized something was amiss. She muttered to herself, then mustered her courage and ran to Ron's side, pointing to the ceiling.

"Who is he?"

"Why are they in my room?" This unscrupulous boss is most likely sent by the enemy.
Ron stroked his chin, picked up the two documents at his feet, glanced at the assassin's certificate, and summarized:
"He is ranked fourth on the assassin list. He has extensive assassination experience and excellent stealth skills, and has committed many major crimes."

"They must have been watching us while Ms. Olivia and I were out."

"Oh, so you're an assassin." Vivian nodded, her tone flat as if she were discussing what to have for dinner.

Sensing Ron's surprised gaze, she shrugged and explained:
“My brother is a member of parliament, and he always encounters assassins sent by his rivals. He has hardly had a good night’s sleep since he was a child.”

"Therefore, our family tradition is to sleep in a long, locked trunk to avoid being disturbed."

"But the hotel doesn't offer that service."

Ron: (_)
Is this right?

So you vampires really do sleep in coffins!

Quickly gathering his thoughts, Ron turned his attention to another deep red document and solemnly introduced it:
"Besides being an assassin, he is also the master of the dark cuisine world."

Before he could finish speaking, the vampire girl next to Ron trembled, so frightened that she collapsed to the ground.

At that moment, Vivian broke out in a cold sweat, and her already pale face lost all color.

"He's actually a chef in the world of 'dark cuisine,' and the head of the sect at that!"

"It's over, it's over!"

Ron: ()

What's going on here?

Before Ron could ask any further questions, Vivian had already revealed the so-called "dark cuisine world".

"The world of 'dark cuisine' started as a market made up of a group of unscrupulous food vendors."

"They repackaged inferior and expired food and rapidly captured the federal market at a lower price."

"As their business grew, the tentacles of the dark cuisine industry spread throughout the entire Federation, and simple deception was no longer enough for them."

"As a result, synthetic foods, protein blocks made from insects, were pushed onto the market in large quantities, and some of them were even contraband."

"For example, the synthetic foods of vampires are mixed with a small amount of human blood."

"The werewolf's food will contain a small amount of human liver and meat chunks, the tiger people's special food will contain the flesh and blood of the deer people, and the snake people's food will contain goblins and gnomes."

"Even some of the high-end food products they offer contain the life force of certain elves, which are said to enhance male virility. There are also many made from vampire ingredients, which are said to prolong life and accelerate self-healing."

So this is what darkness is all about!
Ron had assumed that the so-called "dark cuisine" world was nothing more than a debate about whether to eat tofu pudding sweet or savory.

As a result, they've now gotten into the business of harvesting hearts and kidneys?
After thinking about it, I only took two bites, and it turned into a Splatoon kebab.

Ron unconsciously gagged and quickly spat out a few mouthfuls of saliva.

"Hahaha, are you scared now?"

"Let me go and forgive my past transgressions, or I'll turn you all into canned food and sell you to werewolves, goblins, and vampires!"

Hector Mitchell let out a wild laugh, glaring at Vivian with a sinister look, and said:
"I wonder if vampires could tell if they were eating canned food made from a mixture of their own kind and human flesh?"

As expected of someone from the dark cuisine world, he tried to teach Ron a lesson the moment he opened his mouth.

However, faced with this threat, Ron could only say that he still needed to practice more.

"Since you love to talk, why don't you tell me who sent you?"

Adhering to the principle of "courtesy before force," Ron asked calmly.

"Pah! Don't even think about getting a single word out of me!"

"I'm a professional assassin!"

Hector Mitchell, bound to the ceiling by gravity, spat at Ron.
However, due to gravity, the saliva ended up landing on his own face.

"They have quite a bit of professional ethics."

Ron gave a lukewarm compliment.

To be honest, he already had a guess in his mind.

Based on Verex's warning before he left, he had every reason to suspect that the man before him was an assassin sent by the Speaker of the Federal Council.

However, after considering the other party's power, Ron dismissed the idea.

'Besides the Speaker of the Federal Parliament, that leaves only the rebels. These guys are really persistent; they're all in the same industry, is it really necessary to go to such lengths?'

'However, if we can find their rendezvous point or pinpoint their location, perhaps we can uncover more information about the Lord of a Thousand Faces?'

Thinking of this, Ron rummaged in his inner pocket of his coat and pulled out a white candle.

At this moment, he couldn't help but admire Mr. West's versatility.

What kind of awful, bizarre cuisine is this?
Nothing compares to the darkness leaving 3.0 so quickly!
Today, I'll show you federalians something amazing!
Ron tossed the candle in his hand, looked at the Assassin on the ceiling, and gave a signature sly grin.

"It calls for Darkness to leave 3.0 unusually quickly."

"The ingredients include feces, urine, the rubber of dark goblins, and pus that is corroding steel plates."

Wha, what! ?

Hector Mitchell was horrified when he heard this. He twitched his nose instinctively, and his brown face turned deathly pale.

As a chef with a keen sense of smell, he detected the composition of the candle.

Anyone capable of making this is definitely a promising candidate for learning culinary culinary disasters.

However, Héctor Mitchell greatly admired the fact that the raw materials could tolerate all sorts of unpleasant smells.

However, after seeing Ron let Vivian and the ghost leave, and then pull out a box of matches from somewhere,
His admiration instantly turned into fear.

"You, what are you going to do?"

"Don't come any closer! Put it down, put it down now!"

"Stop! Please! I have children and a wife! Stop! Don't do this!"

The mastermind of the dark cuisine world was on the verge of tears, desperately shouting, struggling, and begging for mercy.

Ron, however, remained unmoved.
She lit the candle with lightning speed, then quickly escaped Vivian's suite and locked the door from the outside.

Just ten seconds later, a voice begging for mercy came from inside the bedroom.

"I'll tell you, I'll tell you, I'll tell you everything!!!"

"Take the candles away quickly, cough cough cough, quick, ugh."

Wouldn't it have been better to do this sooner?

Ron sighed inwardly, then summoned holy light to surround himself, rushed into the room at lightning speed to extinguish the candles, and opened the windows to air out the smell.

"I... I was sent by the rebel leader. He wants me to kill you and also find something."

Under the torment of the white candlelight, Hector Mitchell even revealed the color of his underwear to Ron.

Just as he had predicted, the rebel leader still harbored designs on Mr. "Squint".
As for why he wanted to kill himself, Ron felt that the thinking of cultists could not be understood by normal people.

"We agreed that once it's successful, we'll contact each other via secret communication, and then I'll bring your body over. It'll be money on delivery."

You want my corpse?
If you want to assassinate me, then so be it. What use is my body to you?
Ron's lips twitched; he had a feeling that something was a little off.

However, after thinking for a long time, he still couldn't figure it out. Just as he was about to ask for more details, he felt a vibration from the secret communicator he kept close to his body.

He took out his communicator and glanced at it. He saw a short text message on it, without even punctuation.

Come to the City of a Thousand Nations!

(End of this chapter)