Chapter: 1070
In order to change his mood, Klein decided to try a homemade cake today.
"Go shopping for materials after breakfast." He whispered, drank the milk, and flipped through the newspaper.
Soon, he saw an "obituary" in the "Tasoke Newspaper": "My beloved son Talim Dumont died on December 18 due to a sudden heart attack, and his funeral will be held on December 21." Held at 9:00 am sharp in the Crown Burial Garden, obituary is hereby issued."
��In the Northern Continent, due to the corpse change and other reasons, an ancient tradition has been formed, that is, to be buried as soon as possible after death. Of course, the premise is that there is no shortage of money for this.
Sudden heart attack? This is the final result of the investigation? Or is the "punisher" deliberately paralyzing the real culprit? Klein frowned, unable to judge.
Perhaps it is possible to go above the gray mist to divination whether it is a trap of the "Punisher", but there is a high probability of failure. After all, I have neither personal belongings, nor is it aimed at myself... He took a breath, calmed down, and methodically Filled the stomach.
The subsequent attempts did not meet Klein's expectations, so he had no choice but to leave Minsk Street, drive to Hillston District, and visit Isengard Stanton.
The great detective walked in the warm room, pointed to the front and said, "Sherlock, would you like some breakfast? My cooking skills are no worse than mine."
"No, I've already had breakfast." Klein shook his head and declined the kindness.
Essinger stopped and asked casually, "Where are you going to spend the New Year? I'm going back, no, to Lunburg."
"It hasn't been finalized yet, maybe it's Jianhai." Klein said perfunctorily.
"The scenery there was originally very good, but it's a pity that coal and iron resources are abundant, and shipping is also quite developed." Essinger straightened his neckline, touched the pipe in his pocket, "You seem a little anxious?"
"Mr. Stanton, I have something I want to consult with you." Klein took advantage of the situation to complete the death of Talim Dumont, the results of his spiritual vision, the process of providing advice to "Mechanical Heart", and this morning's obituary. Described it all over again.
Of course, he concealed the fact that he had become the "Mechanical Heart" informant, and only said that for a friend, he found the official Beyonder he knew in the "Apostle of Desire" case.
"Do you think this is a 'punisher' trap?" he asked finally.
Essinger held the pipe and said in a deep voice: "I have been trying my best to avoid the punisher, and I don't know enough about the corresponding situation.
"I will ask someone to inquire, and if there is any news, I will write to you."
"Okay, thank you." Klein saluted sincerely.
In the evening, he received a letter sent by Essinger. There was only one sentence in the letter: "This case is not handled by the 'Punisher'. In the name of Talim Dumont, the royal family will The case is over."
"The royal family..." Klein silently murmured to himself while holding the letter sent by Isengard Stanton.
He looked up and saw the raindrops falling outside the window, and the gas street lamps emitted a quiet halo after another.
In the living room, the tea table was neat and tidy, with a few stacks of newspapers in one corner, and there was no sound from the surroundings.
Klein sat on the sofa, leaned forward slightly, and remained silent for a long time.
After nearly ten minutes, he exhaled foul air, shook his head, and slowly and heavily threw the letter in his hand into the trash can.
He stood up slowly and walked towards the second floor expressionlessly.
But the letter from Isengard Stanton in the trash can quietly caught fire and quickly rolled up, turning into black ashes.
����
On Monday morning, Klein stood in front of the bathroom mirror, pressed the temples on both sides with his right thumb and middle finger, and rubbed them vigorously.
After finishing all this, he turned on the faucet, buried his body, splashed cold tap water on his face, and washed his face with a shiver.
Rejuvenated, he hung up the towel, walked to the first floor, and simply made a single-sided fried egg with buttered toast. JrNovels.com
"Go shopping for materials after breakfast." He whispered, drank the milk, and flipped through the newspaper.
Soon, he saw an "obituary" in the "Tasoke Newspaper": "My beloved son Talim Dumont died on December 18 due to a sudden heart attack, and his funeral will be held on December 21." Held at 9:00 am sharp in the Crown Burial Garden, obituary is hereby issued."
��In the Northern Continent, due to the corpse change and other reasons, an ancient tradition has been formed, that is, to be buried as soon as possible after death. Of course, the premise is that there is no shortage of money for this.
Sudden heart attack? This is the final result of the investigation? Or is the "punisher" deliberately paralyzing the real culprit? Klein frowned, unable to judge.
Perhaps it is possible to go above the gray mist to divination whether it is a trap of the "Punisher", but there is a high probability of failure. After all, I have neither personal belongings, nor is it aimed at myself... He took a breath, calmed down, and methodically Filled the stomach.
The subsequent attempts did not meet Klein's expectations, so he had no choice but to leave Minsk Street, drive to Hillston District, and visit Isengard Stanton.
The great detective walked in the warm room, pointed to the front and said, "Sherlock, would you like some breakfast? My cooking skills are no worse than mine."
"No, I've already had breakfast." Klein shook his head and declined the kindness.
Essinger stopped and asked casually, "Where are you going to spend the New Year? I'm going back, no, to Lunburg."
"It hasn't been finalized yet, maybe it's Jianhai." Klein said perfunctorily.
"The scenery there was originally very good, but it's a pity that coal and iron resources are abundant, and shipping is also quite developed." Essinger straightened his neckline, touched the pipe in his pocket, "You seem a little anxious?"
"Mr. Stanton, I have something I want to consult with you." Klein took advantage of the situation to complete the death of Talim Dumont, the results of his spiritual vision, the process of providing advice to "Mechanical Heart", and this morning's obituary. Described it all over again.
Of course, he concealed the fact that he had become the "Mechanical Heart" informant, and only said that for a friend, he found the official Beyonder he knew in the "Apostle of Desire" case.
"Do you think this is a 'punisher' trap?" he asked finally.
Essinger held the pipe and said in a deep voice: "I have been trying my best to avoid the punisher, and I don't know enough about the corresponding situation.
"I will ask someone to inquire, and if there is any news, I will write to you."
"Okay, thank you." Klein saluted sincerely.
In the evening, he received a letter sent by Essinger. There was only one sentence in the letter: "This case is not handled by the 'Punisher'. In the name of Talim Dumont, the royal family will The case is over."
"The royal family..." Klein silently murmured to himself while holding the letter sent by Isengard Stanton.
He looked up and saw the raindrops falling outside the window, and the gas street lamps emitted a quiet halo after another.
In the living room, the tea table was neat and tidy, with a few stacks of newspapers in one corner, and there was no sound from the surroundings.
Klein sat on the sofa, leaned forward slightly, and remained silent for a long time.
After nearly ten minutes, he exhaled foul air, shook his head, and slowly and heavily threw the letter in his hand into the trash can.
He stood up slowly and walked towards the second floor expressionlessly.
But the letter from Isengard Stanton in the trash can quietly caught fire and quickly rolled up, turning into black ashes.
����
On Monday morning, Klein stood in front of the bathroom mirror, pressed the temples on both sides with his right thumb and middle finger, and rubbed them vigorously.
After finishing all this, he turned on the faucet, buried his body, splashed cold tap water on his face, and washed his face with a shiver.
Rejuvenated, he hung up the towel, walked to the first floor, and simply made a single-sided fried egg with buttered toast. JrNovels.com
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