So it was happening already—and in such a classic fashion?
Fu Qian was quite pleased by the sudden prompt.
A clear objective, an immediate kill, and no restrictions on his abilities—what a satisfying combination.
Though the guarantee that he wouldn't be contaminated deserved some scrutiny, and he'd noticed more than one strange thing since a moment ago.
Still, compared with the uplifting goal at hand, those concerns were ultimately trivial.
Considering when the prompt had appeared, the customer's husband, Mr. Rick, seemed to have a considerable connection to his objective.
But first, he needed to figure out exactly what this so-called "sin plague" was.
The mention of a source made it easy to think of something spreading from it.
In other words, something was spreading through Los right now.
"Lord Gorimshaw, is there anything you can do to help him?"
As Fu Qian pondered, Claire could no longer hold back and asked the master for a solution.
"So you came here because your husband's affection for others has become even more outrageous than before, and you suspect some kind of occult incident has befallen him?"
"Yes."
Claire's expression was resolute.
"I'm certain it isn't normal. Something has contaminated his will and is taking my husband away from me."
"But honestly, this sounds like it falls under the Night Watchers' jurisdiction."
In response to Claire's explanation, Fu Qian remained true to his contrasting persona, first questioning whether this was even his business.
"Unfortunately, here in Los, I can't even use this as a reason to get the police to pay attention."
By contrast, Claire's voice was already tinged with anxiety.
"Even if I found some way to make them believe me, they'd think it was nothing more than an eccentricity."
"And our home isn't far from the Night Watchers' base.