Mystery: The Traveler Who Holds the Star Key

boom!

A gunshot rang out, breaking the standoff in the alley.

Without a word, the leader of the Zmange Party pulled the trigger.

In this chaotic East End, murder and robbery are as natural as breathing.

The bullet grazed Hugh's cheek, sending a few strands of hair flying.

"court death!"

Please calm down.

That petite 1.5-meter-tall body suddenly unleashed astonishing power, like a golden cannonball, ramming into the leader.

The triangular dagger flashed a cold light in the dim air.

The "Arbitrator's" direct combat capability is definitely at the T0 level in Sequence 9.

However, the other side had five people.

And he had a gun.

"Surround her! That woman is extraordinary!"

The leader yelled, clutching his slashed arm.

The remaining four thugs immediately dispersed, forming an encirclement.

The dark muzzle of the gun and the rusty iron bar blocked all of Hugh's room to dodge.

The situation instantly became critical.

Although Hugh was brave, he was no match for four hands.

She instinctively turned around, trying to find the employer who had said he would "keep you going from here."

however.

What about people? !

Where Orion had been standing, only air remained.

The guy who was just now confidently saying "I'll scream for you" has already disappeared faster than a rabbit!

"asshole!"

Xiu was so angry he almost spat out blood.

Sure enough, this is what they call a "big business"!

To earn that 20 pounds, you're actually protecting this coward who only knows how to run away!

"Stop looking! That pretty boy's already scared to death!"

The thugs approached with sinister grins:

"Little girl, this is the price of meddling in other people's business..."

Don't grit your teeth and prepare to fight to the death.

Just then.

"cough."

A very slight cough suddenly rang out behind the armed thug.

The sound was very close.

It was so close, it felt like it was right next to his ear.

The armed thug froze.

Before he could even turn around...

A long, pale hand, like a ghost, reached out directly from the thick brick wall behind him.

There were no divine weapons or magical artifacts in that hand.

Instead, he was clutching a small, bulging paper package.

puff.

The paper package was crushed right in front of the thug's eyes.

A cloud of white powder exploded precisely, evenly, and mercilessly.

"Ah!! My eyes!!"

A heart-wrenching scream echoed through the alley.

That's quicklime.

Specially formulated, enhanced quicklime mixed with chili powder.

"What the hell?!"

The remaining thugs were stunned by this sudden turn of events.

They watched as the hand, after sprinkling the lime, gracefully retreated into the wall, as if it had never been there.

"A ghost...there's a ghost!"

Fear began to spread.

But the nightmare had only just begun.

Hugh was stunned.

Before she could react, there was the thug with the iron bar on her left behind her.

The wall rippled again, like waves on water.

Orian's figure, like a ghost moving through a mirror, passed through the wall without any hindrance.

This time, he wasn't holding lime.

Instead, it was a moss-covered brick that had been pried off from somewhere.

He did not hesitate at all.

The movements were fluid and graceful, with an elegant rhythm reminiscent of playing the piano.

Raise your hand.

whereabouts.

Duang!

A dull thud that made your teeth ache.

The thug didn't even utter a sound; his eyes rolled back and he collapsed limply to the ground.

"The second one."

Orion said softly.

He blinked at the bewildered Hugh, his deep eyes filled with innocence:

"Don't daydream, Miss Deercha."

"Finish him off."

stop:"……"

Her worldview was severely impacted.

Is this what you meant by "keep going"?

You call this "cheering on"?!

This is clearly a complete service of backstabbing, lime-sprinkling, and surprise attacks!

Where is even a shred of dignity left for the extraordinary?!

But Hugh is a professional after all.

Although I was internally ranting and raving, my body was telling the truth.

Taking advantage of the moment when the remaining three thugs were terrified, the triangular dagger in her hand shot out like a venomous snake.

boom! boom! boom!

Several muffled thuds.

The remaining people were all incapacitated and lay in the sewage, groaning in agony.

The battle is over.

Time taken: 45 seconds.

Our side suffered zero casualties.

The alleyway fell silent again, save for the painful groans of the thugs.

He was panting heavily, looking at the mess on the ground.

I glanced again at Orian, who was slowly wiping non-existent dust from his fingers with a handkerchief.

She couldn't hold back any longer.

"Is this your...tactic?"

Hugh pointed at the unfortunate fellow, his face covered in lime and rolling on the ground, his tone complex:

"Is this how you're going to teach me... how to close a 'big deal'?"

"This is thuggish fighting!"

"No, Miss Deercha."

Orion straightened the collar of his trench coat and casually tossed the brick that had done so much work back into the shadows.

He turned around, his back to the dim light of day.

The smile on his face was calm and gentle, carrying with it an irrefutable twisted logic:

"That's efficiency."

"I prefer... physics to so-called chivalry."

"And only those who survive are qualified to talk about martial virtue."

Xiu opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but found himself speechless.

This guy...

Although the methods were a bit dirty, a bit insidious, and a bit despicable...

But he did indeed resolve a potentially fatal crisis in a matter of seconds.

Moreover, that bizarre ability to pass through walls...

Hugh's gaze toward Orion changed.

The "apprenticeship" pathway.

She subconsciously thought of her family friend Fors.

In the same sequence, the salted fish only uses "open the door" to escape and get snacks.

And this guy in front of me...

They actually turned "passing through walls" into a "backstab technique"!

Who exactly is this guy?

Not only are they rich, but they're also... so "dirty"?

Just as the two were sizing each other up, the atmosphere becoming awkward.

A series of hurried footsteps came from the alley entrance.

There was also the tapping sound of a cane striking the ground.

"Stop! Police..."

A figure dressed in a black suit and wearing a top silk hat rushed into the alley.

After going through the tedious emergency call process, Klein finally arrived at the scene based on his spiritual intuition.

He had expected to witness a bloody brawl.

Or perhaps it's your own troublesome assistant, beaten black and blue and waiting for rescue.

however.

The words "The police are coming" that he was about to say were abruptly stuck in his throat.

Klein stood at the alley entrance, his brown eyes scanning the scene before him with a somewhat vacant expression:

Five burly men were lying on the ground.

One of them covered his eyes and screamed, clearly having been splashed with something dirty.

A large lump swelled up on the back of his head, clearly indicating that he had been physically anesthetized by some kind of blunt force.

The remaining three had severed arms and legs.

And in the center of the battlefield.

The "violent loli" who was only 1.5 meters tall was looking at her fists with a look of utter disbelief.

And his "weak," vulnerable assistant, who at first glance resembled a stray dog—

Orion Abraham.

He was standing elegantly amidst a group of scoundrels, holding two bottles of extraordinary materials he had just bought.

She gave him a bright, harmless smile.

"Good evening, Detective Moriarty."

Orion waved his spoils around, his tone light as if he were strolling through a market:

"You're too late."

"I've cleaned this place thoroughly."

Klein: "..."

He glanced at the still twitching "garbage" on the ground.

He glanced again at Orion's eyes, which were unusually bright because of the despicable means he had just used.

The corner of his mouth twitched uncontrollably twice.

cleaning?

Did you use lime powder and bricks to clean it?

Klein suddenly felt a pain in his stomach.

He originally thought he had found an assistant.

It is used to help with research, running errands, and incidentally as a "spiritual anchor" when doing divination.

But now it seems...

What kind of thing did he find?

This is clearly a...

He wears the guise of a gentleman, yet he turns despicable tactics into an elegant art...

A scoundrel.