Mystery: The Last Shepherd

Chapter 335 Cons, Welcome Back

Although he knew some information about the Blood Cultists, Constance did not tell the captain about it.

First, his bloodline was still under that person's control, and the other could cast a curse upon him at any time; second, after what happened yesterday, he had become somewhat hesitant about his work and no longer took it as seriously. More than anything, he wanted to see his family.

It's normal to feel tired.

Reeves glanced at him, seemingly noticing something different about him. The previous Constance had been incredibly proactive, diligently searching for clues, but today this guy seemed strangely similar to himself, possessing a kind of earnest, perfunctory beauty.

"Once we finish this little bit of work, we can go home."

He said it casually.

"Ok."

Cons didn't react strongly, turning back to wipe up the remaining crumbs on the floor. Actually, after the second group arrived, they mostly did odd jobs; the main investigation work was still handled by the first group.

Constance meticulously swept the floor inch by inch, collecting any suspicious items into bags for safekeeping.

The members of Group One simply stood there, ignoring him despite seeing him, and continued their loud conversation. They held themselves in high esteem, treating Group Two like menial laborers.

"Therefore, I think that the [Blood Cultivator] most likely used an extraordinary item from the Secret Prayer pathway, and is actually from another sequence."

One of them said it with an air of seriousness.

You guessed wrong, you idiot.

Cons thought to himself, a secret sense of satisfaction rising within him. After all, unlike these self-righteous fellows, he had actually seen a Blood Cultivator in person. But he couldn't just throw this information in their faces, so although he wanted to refute it, he kept his head down and continued his "wiping" work.

After working for a while longer, he had a pretty good grasp of the entire room. Cons got up and went downstairs, leaving those people and their empty conversations behind.

"Thanks for your hard work."

Reeve still looked as lazy as ever, but he was carrying several bags in his hands, and seemed to be doing his work very seriously.

"You did a good job. Leave the rest to me."

He said to Cons.

"Oh? Mr. Reeves, isn't this inappropriate?"

Cons was taken aback.

"You've been saying you wanted to see your family since earlier, so I'll give you a day off to go see them."

Reeves had already noticed that something was wrong with Constance, but he just assumed that Constance had something on his mind and that talking to his family would make him feel better.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Reeves."

Cons said gratefully.

"No need to thank me. You have a day off tomorrow, so don't come over. By the way, you have to go to the Upper House for your routine guard duty the day after tomorrow, so remember to be there on time."

"Ok!"

Cons nodded, handed the bag containing the evidence and tools to his captain, and excitedly walked out of the mansion.

Having survived a life-or-death crisis, he realized what he should cherish most. He needed to have a serious talk with his father, mother, and brother. He had a premonition that this conversation would change him, perhaps even altering the course of his life.
Because he was a nobleman, his home was also in Queens, and it only took a few minutes to arrive by hiring a carriage.

He pushed open the door and entered, eager to share his thoughts with his family.
His family was waiting for him in the living room.

"Welcome back, Cons."

His father, Viscount Lisson, smiled as he spoke, holding the heads of his mother and brother in his hands. To the accompaniment of soft music, he placed the two heads on a plate. The pristine white porcelain plate made the blood seeping from the heads appear even more vivid and crimson. Cons's expression froze.

He saw that his mother still had a loving smile on her face, and his brother was still mature and steady. Their headless bodies were still sitting on either side of the dining table, dressed in proper uniforms and elegant gowns, as if the heads on the plates in front of them were just insignificant decorations.

Cons could hardly believe his eyes. He opened his mouth, and finally spoke in a distorted, low voice:

"Father! What are you doing!"

Was his father, Viscount Lisson, the culprit behind all this, insane?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so abrupt."

However, the latter simply shook his head regretfully, "I just suddenly took on a commission, and the reward offered by that person was just too high."

Just as Constance was incredulous, feeling like he was dreaming, he suddenly heard the other person speak again:
"Oh, right, Cons, there's one more thing. I'm actually not your father."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

In Lu Ze's own house in the East District.

The virtual personality automatically disintegrated upon returning from the gray fog, transforming into pure memories that flooded into Lu Ze's mind. He sorted through these memories and instantly understood what had happened in that gray fog.

"[The Sun] agreed to negotiate with the Chief in gratitude. Urolius successfully crafted an extraordinary item using the residual aura from the temple. Duke Nigan's assassination is part of a deeper conspiracy."

In addition, there was the incident where the Magician ate an extra portion of his special ability and asked for help, and the others taught the Sun Hermes language, among other things. The former made him understand more deeply the law of conservation of extraordinary abilities.

"Any good news?"

M's figure quietly emerged.

"Have."

Lu Ze gave a brief reply, then deftly began to pull out candles and prepare for the ritual, "Make me a virtual persona again."

The extraordinary item has been sold. Miss Justice told him that she would immediately send the cash through a sacrificial ritual after she returned, and that Lu Ze should be prepared to accept it.

M, following his instructions, created a virtual persona for him that could bypass the tides and connect with the Fool.

Lu Ze prepared the altar, created a spiritual wall with a ritual dagger, then cut his finger and used his blood as paint to draw half an eyeless eye and half a twisted line—the emblem representing Mr. Fool.

"A fool who doesn't belong to this era."

After reciting the Fool's name in Hermes, he immediately switched to Old Hermes and continued, "Your faithful servant begs for your attention, begs you to accept his offerings, begs you to open the gates of your kingdom."

"Woo——"

A fierce wind, formed from spiritual energy, raged within the walls, causing excruciating pain that cut the skin. Lu Ze paid no heed to this; his gaze remained fixed on the illusory gate that had appeared before him.

"crash"

As the illusory door opened, glittering golden objects poured out and piled up on the table. Besides these, there were stacks and stacks of banknotes.

Both coins and banknotes are available.

Luze quickly counted the money and confirmed it was indeed 1800 pounds. The other 200 pounds had already been given to the Hanged Man, who would then pass it on to the craftsman.

As for the commission from the Hanged Man, his idea was to let Lu Ze keep it directly as money to buy the "Windbringer" potion recipe and main ingredients later, saving Mr. Fool the trouble of opening the door multiple times.

Unbeknownst to him, a new conspiracy was brewing in Queens at that very moment.

(End of this chapter)