Cthulhu Panel: One organ mutates every day

The South Side of Michigan is a poor neighborhood without streetcar access.

Wayne and Ethan got off at the end of the tram journey and walked to the Hofhouse tavern.

Upon entering the South District, the neat and grand atmosphere of the Central Business District was completely lost. Narrow, muddy roads were full of potholes, low and dilapidated houses were scattered everywhere, clotheslines were crisscrossed, and garbage and debris were piled up everywhere.

Along the roadside, groups of fierce-looking street thugs would chat idly. When they saw the pistol on Wayne's waist in the distance, they would instinctively stick together and keep their distance.

"The second crime scene of Bob's suicide is right next door, why don't we go take a look on the way?" Wayne suggested.

Ethan sensed something was wrong: "No, I'm genuinely afraid you'll trigger some weird thing while we're working together."

"Didn't you just say so confidently that you would die for the truth of something..." Wayne said, feigning disdain.

"Ahem, that depends on the situation. In non-extreme circumstances, staying alive is more conducive to uncovering the truth," Ethan laughed.

"Are you scared?" Wayne raised an eyebrow.

"Scared? You're kidding, let's go," Ethan said.

The two hit it off immediately, turned into the alley, and headed towards the second scene of Bob's suicide.

Soon, they arrived at the small apartment building.

The police tape in front of the small house was very tight, and the door was also tightly closed, indicating that the police station had sealed off the scene.

"It looks like the logistics department has mostly cleared the scene. I wonder if there's any chance of auctioning off this haunted house," Ethan remarked, turning to Wayne. "How's it going? Did you notice anything unusual?"

Wayne surveyed the outside of the apartment and the surrounding alleyways, but found nothing unusual.

Women chatting, children playing.

It was even somewhat heartwarming.

But there's something strange about it.

Ever since arriving here, Wayne has felt something sticky and wet against his back. He reached up and touched his back, but there was nothing there.

"Ethan, is there something behind me?" Wayne asked.

Ethan walked behind Wayne, patted him a few times, and checked him over: "There's nothing there."

"That's strange." Wayne wondered, and after feeling around again and again, he was certain that something was pressed against his back.

If that thing isn't a physical object, could it be some kind of spirit?

No, that's too far off the mark.

Looking at it again, that cold, sticky, and damp feeling felt somewhat familiar, almost like...

The gaze of certain animals...

Yes, the feeling of being spied on is the most appropriate word to describe it.

[Perception Lv.1 - Observation of the Microscopic] Progress 21.5%

"Ethan, do you feel like someone is spying on us?" Wayne thought Ethan was a survivalist with relatively balanced abilities and a certain level of observation skills.

Ethan turned and looked around, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Hmm, now that you mention it, there really is. Can you sense the person's location?"

Wayne paused, then shook his head: "I can't feel it."

Ethan frowned. "This is a difficult situation. I've managed to pinpoint the other person's location in similar situations before, but neither you nor I can do it now. It's a bit tricky."

As Wei En listened to the children's laughter in the alley, he gradually became agitated.

He sensed that one of the children's laughters was particularly sharp and seductive, and it was rapidly approaching him.

But looking around, there was no one who matched the voice.

But the voice was already right next to my ear.

It can't be a hallucination, can it?

He turned his head and realized that a little boy was standing behind him.

The little boy, his face dirty but with an innocent smile, a lollipop in his mouth and a roll of canvas in his hand, handed it to Wayne.

"Big brother, an uncle just asked me to give you this painting."

painting?

After a moment's hesitation, Wayne reached out and took the canvas.

Seeing that the task was completed, the little boy tasted the lollipop, happily shouting "I have a lollipop!" and ran away.

Ethan took a few steps closer.

Wayne turned around, unfolded the canvas, and looked at it with Ethan.

The canvas was slightly yellowed, but the texture was fairly thick. When unfolded, it was a rather rough sketch.

Although the painting is rough, it is very expressive.

The scene in the painting is inside a small house, where four people are standing in different poses. Judging from their hairstyles, they are three men and one woman. The man in the lead is holding a black umbrella.

It was exactly the scene where the second group was surveying the second crime scene.

[Old Points: 0.91, 0.93, 0.99...]

[Old Points: 1.01]

The sketch has a somewhat blurry impression, with added old-fashioned dots and a sticky, voyeuristic feel.

Wei En's thoughts were churning. A pair of cat's eyes flashed vaguely in his mind, and the thin lines of the cat's eyes spun into spiral eyes, with various colors of paint mixed and blended in them.

"I remember now, it's that painter from last time, Ethan, do you remember him?"

"I remember." Ethan nodded. "Well, it's different when we're working together. We're bound to run into some unexpected situations."

"Fortunately, the feeling of being spied on disappeared once I got the canvas." Wayne was a little confused about the other party's purpose.

Is the other party acting with goodwill or malice?

It's all possible.

However, after this second encounter, it was confirmed that the other party was not an ordinary person.

It just so happens that my old points have reached "1".

We'll see how things go later.

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief: "It's good that they're gone. We'll consider reporting on the painter's situation as a key point later. Let's go too, we still have a tough battle to fight later."

"Okay." Wayne and Ethan continued on their way to the Hofhouse tavern.

As noon approached, the hazy sunlight shone on the dilapidated streets and alleys.

The brick buildings on both sides had peeling, blackened exterior walls, and the base of the walls was covered with graffiti and bullet holes. An old Ritter car was parked on the street, its door half open, and a young man who looked like a thug was leaning against the car, keeping watch, his hands always inside his jacket.

Wayne and Ethan arrived at the edge of the Logistics and Communications Section's encirclement, where heavily armed Special Bureau personnel had densely sealed off the area.

Ethan presented the stamped documents and went to meet with the on-site person in charge of the logistics department.

Wayne glanced around and saw that the logistics and communications team was fully armed, carrying heavy firepower such as submachine guns and heavy machine guns, and even Gatling guns and small rocket launchers...

He asked in a low voice, "Ethan, isn't the logistics department supposed to handle logistics? It's one thing to clean up abnormal scenes, but why are they carrying so much firepower?"

"Logistics, logistics, this is not what you think. In our Special Bureau, logistics means transportation support, which of course includes firepower," Ethan said.

Wayne's eyes were strange: "If a fight really breaks out inside, and the logistics department comes in, do you think we'll even survive?"

Ethan patted Wayne on the shoulder: "Don't worry, there won't be a fight. We're all adults, it's not that easy for a fight to break out."

Wayne thought to himself, "I hope so."

The two successfully passed through the logistics department's encirclement and arrived on a desolate street.

"The logistics department has already evacuated the crowd in the vicinity, and all the surrounding intersections have been cordoned off," Ethan said.

"Making such a big commotion inside the encirclement? Doesn't that mean they've already revealed their hand?" Wayne wondered.

"With someone like Joseph, dealing with him without knowing your hand is the same as revealing it. It's better to be more direct," Ethan explained.

The grocery stores and car repair stalls on the street were closed.

In the distance was the Hofhouse tavern, from which wafted the rich aroma of alcohol, the deep voices of speakers, and occasional bursts of applause.

"Didn't they say they dispersed the crowd? There sounded like there were a lot of people inside, could they all be..." Wayne said in disbelief.

Ethan gave a cryptic smile: "You guessed right, it's full of gangsters, burly men, and most of them are fully armed. Scared?"

Wayne quickened his pace first: "Scared? You're kidding, let's go."

The two walked straight into the tavern.

The ceiling was yellowed and dusty, with a few frosted kerosene lamps hanging from it, casting a warm, dim light, and the room was filled with thick cigar smoke.

On the stage at the front of the hall, a well-dressed middle-aged man was giving a speech, his expression enthusiastic and passionate.

The audience was almost full, with people holding beer mugs and some carrying revolvers and short knives at their waists. No one whispered to each other; they just listened attentively to the speech, occasionally bursting into enthusiastic applause as if in unison.

As for the content of the speech, it was not much different from the previous pamphlet. It was basically about denouncing the real estate market in the east of the city and promoting the idea that an omniscient and great being would reap despair.

At the entrance of the tavern.

Looking at the united scene in the tavern, Wayne felt a chill run down his spine. He glanced at the watch on his wrist; the reality deviation was 0%. Then he turned and asked:

"Is that Joseph on stage? Should we arrest him under these circumstances?"

Ethan put down the rectangular black handbag he was carrying and sat down in an empty spot near the door.

"No rush, let's order a few dishes and some wine first. He'll come looking for us after his performance."