I Will Be The Crowned King

In the dusk of the evening, the tired old horse pulled the worn-out rental carriage through the lonely street, and stopped in front of a black iron gate, panting. Road, until I saw the sign on the iron gate, I was relieved.

Charity Welfare Institute.

This is a public welfare organization maintained by the royal family and the Clovis Cathedral in the capital, with funding from multiple foundations and donations from nobles; it is aimed at the poor people of the kingdom, providing them with the most basic living security and supporting them with their hands. own chance...

...The above is basically from the content of the "Kingdom Loyalty News" and the propaganda posters of the Church of Order.

After getting off the carriage, giving the coachman three more coins and agreeing to wait for him here, An Sen stepped forward with his hands in his pockets on the snow that had turned into silt, and knocked on the door of the orphanage.

Mrs. Coney, the dean who opened the door for him, was a kind-hearted woman, dressed in the same attire as the middle-class women who often strolled in White Lake Park, and her red complexion looked better than hers. Actual age is younger.

"May I ask you are……"

"Bumble, I've been donating money to your orphanage in recent months." Anson, who lowered his head, pressed the brim of his hat and deliberately made his voice hoarse:

"Last month, your hospital sent me a letter that an old friend of mine, Oliver, passed away here, and asked me to come and fetch his relics."

"Ah...you are Mr. Bumble Brownlow!"

The red-faced Mrs. Kony's eyes lit up, and tears filled her pupils, and she sighed softly: "I'm sorry to hear such sad news, the will of the Ring of Order will never be something that we mortals can speculate on. of."

"Mr. Oliver's relics are kept in the storage room by us, please come with me."

"Okay."

An Sen, who was numb behind him, held a yellowed letter in his right hand in his pocket:

[As Bumble Brownlow, I went to Ximen Street Charity Welfare Institute to pick up Oliver's belongings, which are on the inside of his shirt. 】

With a sad but grateful smile, Anson walked into the dark Renai Orphanage, greeted by the warm Mrs. Coney.

The entire orphanage was transformed from an ancient watchtower. Legend has it that thirteen brave Clovis knights used this as a stronghold to fight against a tyrant's tyrannical levy. Under the siege of two thousand troops, they persisted for fifteen day and night.

After seeing it with his own eyes, Anson believes that even if the legend is exaggerated, it is likely to be true - this is due to the welfare institute's protection of ancient buildings, never any decoration or renovation, and the watchtower has been completely maintained It looked like it was captured, and there were even two skeletons that had been dried for many years under the tattered gate.

When Anson and the Dean's wife entered the hall, it was dinner time for the orphans of the orphanage; the children in burlap pockets were carrying small wooden bowls, and the fat cook reluctantly scooped a spoonful of water from the steaming pot. Porridge, poured like alms into children's bowls not much bigger than a spoon.

Looking at the gruel that had been drank by two or three mouthfuls and the eyes of the children turning green from hunger, An Sen hesitated.

"It's all thanks to your donation and the new policy of the Church of Order." The dean's wife, who noticed his expression, immediately laughed along with him:

"Since last month, each child in the orphanage can eat an extra half ounce (about 16 grams) of oatmeal every day; hehehe... Of course, you also know that children of this age cannot get enough to eat."

"I know." Anson nodded:

"I have a sister."

"It turns out that with a loving brother like you, your sister must be very happy."

"Well, I think so too." Anson twitched the corners of his mouth.

The two walked through the hall and entered the storage room of the orphanage from a spiral staircase without railings; the moment the door was opened, the room filled with boxes of various sizes was mixed with all kinds of strange dampness and decay. The taste comes from the surface.

"That's it - I'm very sorry, it smells a little bad because I rarely clean it up." The Dean's wife handed Anson a small key while covering her nose, and said ramble:

"Mr. Oliver is Cabinet No. 76. He is a real good man. He never caused us any trouble. Before he died, he didn't forget to sort out his belongings. He also left a pen for himself to buy a coffin."

An Sen, who nodded lightly, took the key and said in a hoarse voice, "I want to be alone for a while, okay?"

"Oh, of course!"

The dean's wife quickly left the storage room.

Hearing the sound of footsteps walking away from the stairs, Anson stood motionless until he could only hear the echo in the distance before turning his head into the storage room and closing the door.

Following the number on the cabinet, he found Oliver's relic cabinet in a small corner, and unscrewed the lock of the cabinet through the dim optical fiber of the kerosene lamp.

A shirt, a pair of trousers, a pair of shoes and a worker's hat were piled up in a messy cabinet in the small cabinet - these were all "Oliver" relics.

Putting down the kerosene lamp, Anson carefully took out his shirt and groped for a while; he tore open the patched pocket of his jacket with a little force, revealing three card-like things from the thin linen interlayer.

Picking up the three cards, Anson's face showed a puzzled expression.

This is a card made of some milky-white material, it can feel elastic when shaken, and the surface is somewhat reflective; each card is densely arranged with dozens of pinholes of the same size but different orders, like using a certain Made by a machine.

After looking it up and down several times, there is no trace of being "rubbed" by magic on the thin card; except for the strange materials made, it's just an ordinary card.

Is this the "goods" that made Miller Wilters the unfortunate sacrifice?

After a pause, Anson subconsciously took out another letter from Carin Jacques left to him from his coat pocket:

[Your Excellency, I hope to purchase from you the item that Andil Bogner sold at Wade's pawnshop for twenty gold coins in the seventy-fifth year of the saint's calendar. A kind person told me that it is in your hands- letter A check of one hundred gold coins from the Royal Bank is attached. 】

Is this thing worth a hundred gold coins?

Anson frowned slightly... Judging from the content of the letter, the person who wrote the letter must at least know Andyr Bogner, have enough channels to get in touch with an old-fashioned antique dealer, and can easily take out One hundred gold coins.

Bogner...

He thought of the Viscount Bogner on the Steel Sky, and Mrs. Bogner at 55 Bleiman Street.

Could it be a coincidence?

Hmm... it has nothing to do with me anyway.

Anson shrugged, hid the three cards in the inner pocket of his upper body shirt, picked up Oliver's remaining relics, and left the Charity Orphanage.

………………

Inner City, Friedrichstraße, Truth Club.

"He's got it all."

Coming out of the basement, Cole Dorian with a cup of coffee in his hand looked at Anson happily.

"So fast?" Anson looked at him in surprise.

It's not even ten minutes!

"It doesn't really matter if he recruits or not." Cole Dorian put the coffee cup in the center of the table:

"Not to mention that with Sierra, a spellcaster who can read minds, he has no chance to lie at all."

Mind reading? !

An Sen's back froze, and he suddenly remembered that the female judge was there when he was interrogated last time.

How dangerous!

"Hey... Captain Lawrence isn't here tonight, and Sera and I don't have the authority to use torture tools, so we can only be held here by him." Cole didn't notice Anson's slightly changed expression, and continued to complain to himself:

"If this was back in my great-grandfather's time, even the lowest-ranking judges who had just joined the post could use torture instruments, which is not like now - even the use of skull crushers and water prisons has to be reported!"

"..." Anson Bach.

Cole, who sighed, looked at his expression and was stunned for a moment, and then he laughed out loud: "Pfft!"

"I-I said... You shouldn't believe it, right? Hahahaha..."

An Sen breathed a sigh of relief: "So this is all fake, are you kidding?"

"Hahahahaha..." Cole Dorian let out a hearty laugh:

"No, I'm serious!"

"..." Anson suddenly didn't want to talk to this guy.

"Okay, stop joking and be serious." Cole, who had a happy expression on his face, spread his hands and looked at him seriously:

"Carlin Jacques, what are you going to do with this guy?"

"Me?!" Anson was shocked.

"That's right, we discussed this matter with Captain Lawrence - if Carlin Jacques is successfully arrested without causing a commotion, then let you decide what to do with him." Cole explained:

"First of all, this is of course out of our mutual trust, and secondly... With this person here, it is convenient for you to communicate with the Black Mage afterwards."

"In the end, this man is useless to us."

"Useless?" Anson was a little surprised.

"Catch an antique dealer and a low-level spell caster of the Old God School, it means nothing to the religious inquisition." Cole pouted, and then said solemnly:

"The powerful or large-scale Old God faction organization is our prey and target."

"...I understand." Anson paused and hesitated, "Let me think about it."

"It's up to you, just let us know when you need to release someone." The second judge's face showed a hearty smile again:

"I've got other work to do tonight, and you can go to Sierra for anything—she'll be here all night."

"Okay."

Anson nodded, and then asked casually, "By the way, where are you going so late?"

Before he finished speaking, Cole Dorian, who was about to get up, suddenly stopped in place; on his still face, his eyes moved slowly to his side and stopped on Anson's face.

In an instant, the icy chill rushed towards Anson!

The dimly lit cafe fell into an eerily dead silence.

Looking at Cole Dorian's unblinking eyes, Anson's heartstrings were suddenly tense and the corners of his mouth twitched:

"That...I...I just casually..."

Cole Dorian, who had an indifferent expression, was silent for a few seconds, and then suddenly laughed "Pfft!": "It's okay, don't be nervous!"

"It's just an instinctive reaction - the power of my blood has always made me have to be vigilant, so occasionally I get a little nervous, just get used to it, hahaha..."

It's too hard to get used to... An Sen twitched the corners of his mouth and rolled his eyes at him with a pretense of exaggeration: "You almost scared me to death!"

"Sorry, sorry, it's all my fault." Cole raised his hands casually, and his eyes lit up with a smile on his face:

"By the way! It's all compensation. I'll satisfy the curiosity of our storm regiment leader tonight!"

"No no no... no, I just..."

"It's The Great Magic Book!" Cole interrupted with a smile.

He took out a slender metal box from his arms, which looked a bit like a poker box but was very delicate; there were small gear wheels on each of the four sides of the box.

The Second Inquisitor put the box on the table, carefully turned the gears on it one by one, and put it down slowly.

"Click, click, click, click."

With the crisp sound of machine brackets, the four lock discs were opened in turn; followed by a sound of fine gears, the slender metal box was like a magic box, unfolding layer by layer.

Anson held his breath involuntarily.

This is the legendary "Great Magic Book", which records all magic from ancient times to the present, as well as the truth about the fall of the Three Old Gods. This...

what is this?

Looking at a box of cards, Anson's eyes widened in astonishment.

"It's a surprise, right?" Cole raised the corners of his mouth proudly, took one of the pictures out of the box and gestured in front of Anson:

"No one would have thought that the "Great Magic Book" treasured in Clovis Cathedral is this pile of small white cards full of pinholes."

"But then again... No one ever said that The Great Magic Book must exist in the form of a 'book'?"

"This... what is it?" Anson was stunned.

"Uh... the scientific name is very complicated, I usually call it the magical memory card." Cole thought hard for a while, and then suddenly smiled:

"Looks like it's just a bunch of useless stuff~www.readwn.com~ hard material cards full of pinholes; but if you put this thing in the St. Isaac's steam difference engine at Clovis Cathedral...it'll spit out A blank piece of paper full of words, and the content on the paper is the content on these cards."

"And this...that's why we dare to use the "Great Magic Book" to lure the Black Mage to take the bait - even if the card is stolen by him, we don't have to worry at all, because all the difference engines in the entire orderly world are in the hands of the church!"

He looked proudly at Anson, whose face was full of shock, put the card back in the metal box and put it in his clothes: "I'm going to return it to Clovis Cathedral tonight, the application period has expired - I'm sorry I didn't let it go. Black Mage took the bait, the application procedure for this thing is quite troublesome."

Sighing again, Cole, who smiled helplessly, waved to Anson, turned around and pushed the door and left Qiuzhen Club.

In front of the empty bar, he was the only one left.

"Snapped!"

The stunned An Sen slapped his chest on the pocket of his chest with a slap; a very hard muffled sound reverberated in the empty cafe.