The Church of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom worshiped the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, with their main forces concentrated in the three small nations of Lenburg, Segar, and Maasi.
They mostly loved knowledge and revered wisdom. Aside from discriminating against those with low intelligence and people who didn't like thinking, their conduct and style were fairly normal.
Silas and Klein exchanged glances, both recalling internal materials from the Evernight Church.
No wonder he calls himself the "Eye of Wisdom."
To be able to hold gatherings in Backlund and maintain good relations with the police department and official Beyonders, gaining their semi-public recognition, perhaps he could be understood as the Knowledge Church's agent in Backlund.
"I did see the reward notice in the newspaper."
Klein recalled the relevant report and said.
Because he'd been short on money lately, he was extremely sensitive to anything related to money.
"That's right. I originally planned to gather many detectives, including you, Sherlock, to use collective wisdom to discuss how to track down the killer."
The Eye of Wisdom smiled. "But unexpectedly, before I could even start investigating, it was already dealt with."
His tone carried a hint of regret, as if lamenting that his wisdom hadn't had a chance to shine before the matter had concluded.
"If you leave the corpse with me to handle, I can turn it over to the authorities and claim the 2,000-pound reward."
He said to them again. "So, interested?"
"What about the characteristics inside it?"
"The authorities only care about results."
"What if they ask you for details about the kill?"
"Given my status, they won't investigate too deeply. Even if there are signs of Blood Magic on the corpse, I can claim it came from my extraordinary collection."
Isengard answered. He'd already thought through his response strategy.
Silas considered it.
The characteristics had already been grazed by him anyway. The Devil's leftover corpse was dispensable.
The other party just happened to have the right channels to sell it for money. This was entirely a good thing.
"So, how should the reward be divided?"
He asked the key question.
"I'm providing the channel and contributed some effort in the earlier battle. Five hundred pounds is a reasonable figure."
Isengard said cautiously.
Meaning we split the remaining 1,500 pounds? That's fairly reasonable.
Silas turned to look at Klein. "What do you think? Can you accept that?"
"Huh? Me?"
Klein had been envying Silas for earning another large sum when he heard him asking for his opinion.
He couldn't help but be surprised. "I basically didn't help at all. You don't need to give me a share, right?"
"How did you not help? You held it off for me."
Silas said, "If you have no objections, I'll give you 500 pounds."
"This..."
Klein hesitated. He really was short on money, but he felt that even if he got a share, he shouldn't receive this much.
"Alright, alright. You know I'm not short on money lately."
Silas interrupted him.
Even with this split, he'd still have 1,000 pounds in cash coming in.
"Alright then, it's settled."
Isengard smiled.
"After the reward is successfully claimed, I'll contact Sherlock and deliver the remaining money to him."
He could see there was a relationship between the two, but he didn't ask.
Wisdom wasn't just about discovering problems, but also about maintaining silence after knowing full well.
Just like how Isengard had discovered that Silas was a lucid Shepherd, yet didn't excessively probe into how he managed it.
With Klein as a middleman between them, there was no fear of losing contact. After this, Silas used Blood Mist to interfere with divination at the scene, then bid farewell to the two.
He transformed into shadows and slipped into the night streets, leaving first.
The murmuring echoing in his ears gradually faded. Silas finally breathed a sigh of relief.
However, what was going on with the True Creator? Why did He suddenly emit such angry murmurs?
He thought to himself as he hurried along.
What Silas didn't know was that this voice wasn't heard by him alone.
---
Somewhere in Backlund, in a dark room.
Crimson moonlight shone through the window, becoming the only light source in the room.
And what this light illuminated was...
Corpses.
A large number of corpses.
Pale bodies piled up, covering the floor.
From their appearance, they were all young women. Without exception, their faces were frozen in expressions of extreme distortion and terror, with terrible, ghastly wounds in their abdomens.
Someone had their back to them, softly humming a song. It was a lullaby.
"My dear child, do you hear it?"
Lanevus's figure bathed in moonlight.
He stroked his swollen belly and asked gently, "Your father is angry."
His eyes were covered in bloodshot veins, and the blood vessels near his temples were densely distributed like a black spider's web, bulging high.
No one answered, yet Lanevus tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something.
After a moment, he laughed helplessly. "My attempt was very reasonable. Why is He angry?"
Drip, drip.
Whether it was blood or a leaking water pipe, continuous dripping sounds kept sounding.
"My dear child, I'm doing this for your sake. A woman's body is obviously more suitable for nurturing you."
A flash of disgust crossed the depths of Lanevus's eyes, but the tone in his mouth grew increasingly tender, almost like a mother facing her whining child.
"Don't you like these people being your mother?"
"It's incredible. Why do you insist on choosing the body of a man like me and refuse to let go..."
When he said this, Lanevus's mouth was gentle, but the malice in his eyes was almost tangible, nearly overflowing.
He tilted his head to listen for another moment, then said helplessly:
"Alright, alright... then let me protect you first, and then continue looking for a better candidate.
Perhaps when you meet a more suitable woman, you won't want to stay in my body anymore."
"It's fine, we still have time..."
His voice gradually lowered, as if coaxing a child to sleep. As the child in his arms gradually fell into slumber, his tone became increasingly gentle.
---
Two days later, Silas received cash delivered by Klein, totaling 1,540 pounds.
Of this, 1,000 pounds came from the reward for killing the Devil Hound, while another 540 pounds was his share from selling the Sequence 8 extraordinary characteristics.
Adding this to the cash he already had, his savings had nearly broken through 2,000 pounds.
Just the cash alone already exceeded his total assets from his time in Tingen.
Silas calculated.
However, honestly speaking, compared to being a lunatic in Backlund's East Borough, being an apothecary, being a Shepherd, he missed his days in Tingen more.
Does Klein miss the past too?
Unfortunately, neither of them could go back.
Sivellaus Field Publicly Announces: Serial Murder Case Solved!
Unfolding the newspaper, the front-page headline was about the serial murder case being solved.
Of course, since they couldn't tell the public about the Beyonder world, the paper only said the killer had been shot on the spot, without providing detailed information about the killer or the methods used.
Perhaps there's also an intent to prevent copycat crimes?
Silas thought to himself.
Just then, his ears twitched slightly. He heard two sets of footsteps walking straight toward them from outside.
"Knock, knock, knock!"
Soon, the door was knocked on. Through this distance, he sensed the aura of Beyonders.
"Who is it?"
Silas stood up, exchanged a glance with his sister, then called out loudly. It was morning now.
The landlady Emily had already gone to school, leaving only the two of them in the house.
"Mr. Anderson, it's me, Fors Wall."
A somewhat familiar voice responded weakly.
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