Cthulhu Panel: One organ mutates every day

A high-end department store located in Michigan's Midtown Modern Business District.

Wayne and Ethan arrived at a lavishly decorated cigar shop. After exchanging secret codes with the clerk, they activated a hidden compartment on the counter, pushed open the heavy steel door, and entered the basement.

As you walk, you unknowingly enter a luxurious hall.

We had already entered the Black Gold Bar.

"That's quite discreet," Wayne remarked.

The hall has a high ceiling and spacious interior, with matte black wood paneling on the walls and dim brass wall lamps.

There was no dance floor in the center of the hall, only a solid wood boxing ring.

The ring echoed with the sounds of fists clashing and gasps for breath, while in the surrounding seats, guests in suits placed bets on the fights and chatted in hushed tones.

The smells of cigars, sweat, blood, and alcohol were all mixed together.

"Michigan's wealthiest businessmen, politicians, and even some small gang leaders all like to come here," Ethan explained.

Wayne looked around and saw several bodyguards in suits standing in the corner.

"What kind of black market bar is this? The underground boxing ring is not bad, the smell of boxing is stronger than the smell of alcohol."

[Perception Lv.1 - Observation of the Microscopic] Progress 23.2%

The progress has actually increased; the environment here seems rather special.

Ethan waved to the bartender, handed him a black gold card, ordered two cocktails, and said in a deep voice:

"Tell that old dog Howard that Ethan the Phoenix is ​​here."

The bartender turned pale with fright and retreated tremblingly to report.

Wayne asked, "Isn't that the underground mayor? Is it appropriate for you to call him that? Won't it invite trouble before it's even started?"

Ethan left his black briefcase at the counter next to him, explaining:

"That old dog Howard still owes me a favor, so there's nothing wrong with calling him that. He's a dog, and I'm a bird, it makes no difference."

"Also, let me tell you, this Howard loves to talk about things like city order, and he's always trying to weigh the interests of all parties. He completely acts like the patriarch of Michigan."

Wayne also left his extra, unsightly items—the canvas, the crowbar, and the like—with Ethan's briefcase, asking, "Treat yourself as someone else? Surely his title as the underground mayor isn't just a hollow one?"

Ethan admitted, "It's not just a reputation, but Howard does handle some irreconcilable conflicts between the gangs and the legitimate world. If there's anyone who can make the gangs behave and stop causing trouble, and also get the city hall to hand over its profits, then it's him."

Wayne almost laughed: "It sounds a bit like playing house."

Ethan chuckled, "You're absolutely right. That old dog is like a kindergarten principal. Both the city hall and those gangs are like self-important bad kids. Without a kindergarten teacher, they'd start fighting over toys and snacks."

A moment later, the bartender came running over respectfully and invited Ethan and Wayne into the bar owner's office.

The office was small, with a large black wooden desk, a brass lamp, a mechanical telephone, and a revolver.

A middle-aged man with a fleshy face sat leaning back in his office chair, wearing a pinstripe suit with the top two buttons undone at the collar, exuding a restrained aura.

It has been confirmed that the underground mayor is Howard.

There is a huge painting on the wall behind him.

As soon as Wayne entered, his eyes fell on the painting.

The painting depicts a city under construction and a vast lake view. The brushstrokes are delicate and the images are vivid, to the point that it appears as a full-color photograph.

A bright and spacious aesthetic immediately comes to mind.

He also noticed that in the shadows in the corner of the room stood a tall, thin old man, motionless, his skin covered with wrinkles, severely aged, like a corpse.

However, it was clear that the other person was breathing slightly.

[Perception Lv.1 - Observation of the Microscopic] Progress 26.7%

"Something's not right. His perception progress has increased by nearly 5%? There seems to be something wrong with this old man."

Wayne glanced at the watch face on his wrist:

Reality deviation: 0%

Only then did he feel relieved and follow Ethan toward the middle-aged man.

"Old dog, why are you in the office today? I was worried you weren't here." Ethan casually sat down at his desk.

To Ethan's surprise, after Howard nodded slightly to him, he spoke first to Wayne:

"You must be the new junior colleague in the Special Investigations Department of the Special Bureau. I heard you told Philip to get lost yesterday. I quite like you. Philip is indeed a jerk."

Howard's German is deep and steady, and it even sounds a bit like the tone of a government senator.

Moreover, it seems that Howard has been keeping an eye on me in secret, even paying attention to such a small thing as the Silver Corridor cabaret.

However, was the reason Howard approached me first because my charm was subtly influencing those around him?

That's not right either; it's possible he's deliberately ignoring Ethan.

"Agreed, I also think Philip is a jerk," Wayne agreed.

"Hmm, good taste." Howard said with appreciation. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Howard, or you can call me the Underground Mayor."

Is he really trying to glorify himself like this? It's too blatant, too high-class, too dignified; I'm not used to it.

Wayne nodded: "Yes, Mayor Howard, this is Wayne. I've heard that Michigan has the lowest crime rate in the entire Federation, which must be thanks to the balance you've struck between the law and the underworld."

"Haha, not bad, not bad, Wayne, I enjoy listening to you talk," Howard laughed heartily.

[Charm Lv.1 - Affinity] Progress: 35.3%

If you like listening, then listen to more.

"May I ask about the origin of this painting on your wall?" Wayne felt there was something amiss about the surroundings.

It's either that painting or that tall, thin old man.

But it seemed inappropriate to ask the old man right away, so I could only ask about the painting.

"You have a good eye. This painting was made by the pioneers of Michigan when the city was first established, by Lake Michigan. It's quite a historical piece," Howard said proudly, pointing to the painting behind him.

Wei En pondered: "Is it merely for commemorative purposes? These past two days, the concept of the painting has come up far too frequently, to the point of being unsettling."

Seeing that he was being ignored, Ethan guessed that Howard was about to turn hostile, so he slammed his hand on the table, picked at his ear, and said:

"Old dog, stop pretending. Let's talk. I've already got Joseph. What's the point of leaving me hanging here?"

Howard frowned slightly upon seeing Ethan's direct approach. After a moment of contemplation, he made his statement, his smile instantly turning into anger:

"Ethan! You've really crossed the line this time."

"What boundary are you crossing?" Ethan spread his hands, feigning helplessness.

Howard angrily rebuked:

"I've warned you many times, Joseph absolutely cannot get hurt!"

Ethan didn't care: "Nothing's happened yet."

Howard continued:

"If Joseph can't get out of your Special Affairs Bureau, the Sin Gang and all the miscellaneous groups he's recruited will definitely riot, and the relationship between the underworld and the legitimate world will immediately break down. Don't you understand that?"

Ethan tapped his fingers lightly on the table: "Got it, then what?"