The past was built upon collecting unique characteristics.

"Mr. Morian, what's wrong?"

It wasn't until Charlotte gently pulled down the corner of his clothes that Morian suddenly trembled, as if waking from a dream.

"No, it's nothing. I was just wondering what Skol went through in the final moments."

Morian pressed his forehead with his hand, took a couple of deep breaths, and tried to dispel the heaviness in his chest.

Then Charlotte picked out a heavy book from the diverse collection of books on the bookshelf.

The book itself appears to be made of some kind of frosted parchment, with a dark yellow color. The top of the cover is printed with two lines of text that do not belong to any known language, and it feels quite heavy in the hand.

She examined the cover and compared it with the ancient book she remembered, and found that the two were surprisingly identical.

"Is this the lost ancient book?" Morian leaned closer and asked in confusion.

He had seen the painting of the lost item before the investigation, and he recognized it at a glance.

"Yes, it's really surprising. It looks exactly the same as the previous one." Charlotte's eyes also showed disbelief.

It's certainly a good thing to have something lost and found, but why is it here? Morian crossed his arms and fell into deep thought, rearranging all the known clues in his mind.

Could it be that Skol and the victim had previously conspired privately to create another counterfeit copy to circulate across the ocean?! Was the copy that was taken away and triggered the subsequent events fake, or was it switched beforehand?

If that's the case, then it means that the ancient book lying on the hotel bookshelf is very likely the genuine article.

Following this line of reasoning, Skol's death seems to have truly ruled out the possibility of homicide. If an organization or force had gotten there first, it would have been impossible for them not to have thoroughly searched the room, let alone leave the item and letter in their original place.

In other words, the suicide is very likely true.

The source of this tragedy was probably the strange power mentioned in the letter—"contamination." The information Skol received was inherently "contaminated," which ultimately led to his mental breakdown and suicide.

This sounds absurd, but Morian doesn't think it's anything to be surprised about in the extraordinary world.

Pollution, in this context, might refer to ordinary people, with their fragile bodies and minds, directly encountering or receiving information far beyond their comprehension, causing their souls to become unable to bear it and thus become completely lost.

The only problem is why the second half of the letter is so chaotic. While writing the first half, Skol was still logically clear despite his fear, but when he wrote the second half, it was like a balloon that kept expanding and finally burst when it reached its limit.

When he cleared his mind and looked up at Charlotte, he found that the confusion in the girl's eyes had quietly disappeared, and a confident smile had appeared on her lips.

They also concluded that the deceased committed suicide? And they even considered the possibility of "contamination"? What a clever girl.

Morian was a little surprised. Although the other party had remained quiet throughout and had not given any lengthy analysis, she probably already had a similar answer in her mind.

"I'm going to the front desk to call the police. You wait here for a while." Morian chuckled briefly, gave the instructions, and then walked towards the stairwell.

About ten minutes later, the corridor on the third floor was surrounded by police officers who came to investigate. The hotel was located near the entrance of the street and not far from the local police station, so the police response was naturally quick.

The tranquility of the hotel was soon broken by a flurry of footsteps and conversations.

Leading the group was a slightly overweight middle-aged police sergeant, dressed in an orange police uniform, with an expensive cigar dangling from his lips, who slowly entered the room.

His gaze first fell on the corpse in the room, then shifted to Morian and Charlotte standing to the side.

"Ke Bei Dao Er?"

The moment the sheriff saw Morian, he clicked his tongue, stubbed out his cigarette, and snapped at him irritably:

"What are you doing here, you little detective? Did you file another report?!"

Morian gave a familiar, wry smile, raised his hand to show his top hat, and said, "We meet again, Sheriff Evans."

Another alias used to conceal her identity... Upon hearing the unfamiliar name called out by the sheriff, Charlotte's gaze involuntarily shifted to the side.

"I think you're a walking 'Grim Reaper'! Wherever you go, there are murder reports. No wonder your colleagues in the area have given you that nickname."

"Oh, it's nothing, just an empty reputation, not worth mentioning." Morian quickly smiled ingratiatingly, claiming it was just an accident, and pulled out a cigar of another brand from somewhere and handed it to the sheriff.

"Come on, I wasn't praising you!"

Evans gave a stern "humph," but quickly regained his composure and asked, "So, what can we glean from this case?"

"The truth is that it was suicide," Morian replied truthfully, his smile fading.

He then recounted the details of the case to the police, explaining the existence of the letter and the related information about Skol, basically revealing everything he knew, except for the fact that he deliberately concealed the existence of the other half of the ancient book.

But the more he spoke, the more hostile Evans's gaze became...

"That's about it. That's all I wanted to say." Morian shrugged.

"Hmm, you mean, the deceased was exposed to some kind of...contamination? And that's why they committed suicide?"

Isn't it obvious...? Morian's facial muscles twitched.

Evans, his face slightly darkened, slowly and laboriously uttered his true thoughts:

"Let me be frank, if you get a few more cases like this, I'll seriously start to doubt whether you're even a suspect."

Although he spoke ruthlessly on the surface, the next second Sheriff Evans waved his hand, signaling his men to let him go.

His multiple collaborations had left him with a good impression of the private investigator, and given the man's high efficiency and accuracy in solving cases, Evans privately believed that Morian was unlikely to be a criminal suspect.

"Thank you for your cooperation once again, Sheriff Evans."

Morian bowed politely, then led Charlotte out of the room, preparing to leave the hotel.

But just as he stepped onto the corridor floor, Evans’s signature loud voice came from behind him again.

"Wait a moment, there's something else I need you to investigate."

Evans took a wad of banknotes from his police uniform pocket, counted out a full hundred pounds, and waved it in front of Morian.

"Help me find out who broke into White Company last night and managed to escape. Any clues will do. If you can provide any relevant information, this hundred pounds is yours."

He paused, then added:

"So, are you going to take this lucrative commission? This isn't a commission funded in my personal name, but rather by my superior."

……

One hundred pounds, another one hundred pounds!

Answer it! What reason is there not to answer it? Morian was overjoyed and almost laughed out loud.

Although he was investigating his own commissions again, he changed his clothes and underwent a simple disguise on the day of the operation.

At that time, all I had to do was change back into the outfit I wore that night, take some wide-angle photos, and get that hundred pounds in no time.

No, I can't laugh yet, I have to hold it in.

Let's celebrate our success in a day, no, two days... Morian quickly adjusted his face to avoid giving himself away and causing trouble.

"Of course, no problem, Sheriff Evans." He said solemnly, "The task you entrusted to me is for maintaining the safety of this city, and I will investigate it for you no matter how busy I am."