As soon as Ernes got into the carriage and left, several bounty Hunter hiding nearby immediately jumped out. Some didn't hesitate to pay the upfront fee and directly flagged down a passing taxi. Others noted the characteristics of the target carriage and tried to get around to the front through secluded and narrow alleys. Still others rode their bicycles that they had prepared in advance, and amidst the clanging sounds, they easily followed through the gaps between carriages and crowds.
Of all these people, only Hugh remained calm and unhurried, watching Ernes and his companions depart.
This mode of transportation, also called a bicycle, is more useful than I imagined. No wonder so many bounty Hunter save money to buy one; it saves on the cost of carriages or walking time... If there are frequent tracking missions like this, the money saved is enough to buy a new bicycle... The only problem is that there are currently very few styles of this mode of transportation, and they are all high-seat types... I'm really tempted by it.
Just then, a horse-drawn carriage came from the intersection and stopped in front of her.
Hugh was located at a station.
Hugh glanced at the double-decker carriage parked on the steel tracks, took out a few penny coins, went up, and found a seat by the window.
These public carriages, with two levels, could carry nearly fifty people in total. At this time, they were not crowded, allowing Hugh to enjoy the scenery outside the window very smoothly.
But she wasn't admiring the scenery; her mind was quickly sketching out the exact appearance of her target:
Brown hair, bright red eyes, sharply defined features, an abnormally high nose bridge, and a painting book in his hand.
With the help of the " Sheriff's " extraordinary senses in this regard, and the fact that the distance between the two sides had not increased, Hugh vaguely grasped the target's current location and the planned direction.
So she remained calm, even taking off her baseball cap through the car window and tidying her slightly frizzy and stubborn blond hair.
After passing countless stops, Hugh suddenly got up and got off the carriage after it stopped once again.
This is the Backlund Bridge Area. The target she sensed has changed direction and is heading towards the bridge.
Hugh immediately quickened his pace, intending to turn the corner ahead onto another street and board the public carriage heading to the Tussock River.
She was lucky; the public carriage arrived just as she reached the platform.
Hugh breathed a sigh of relief, took out the few more pennies he had prepared, and became even more eager to buy a bicycle.
The public carriage was very crowded, but Hugh, relying on his authority as the " Arbiter," managed to navigate the crowd relatively easily, reach the second floor, and find a seat.
The carriage moved slowly, and Xiu casually glanced out the window, his gaze suddenly freezing.
She spotted Shermane, whom she had been searching for everywhere!
The young man, who identified himself as a woman, was carrying a paper bag containing several long loaves of bread and a stack of newspapers as he entered a narrow alley.
His shoulder-length brown hair had grown quite a bit longer, and his gray striped pants were rather tight.
Although his figure flashed by so quickly that a normal person couldn't be sure, Hugh, as a " Sheriff," easily made a positive judgment.
Shermane gave up his room in the East Borough and moved here? Seeing that the other person seemed alright, and since he was still tracking his target, Hugh suppressed the urge to jump out of the carriage, catch up with him, and ask about his recent situation.
Shermane, carrying a paper bag filled with long loaves of bread and a stack of newspapers, walked through alleys and streets, making a long detour, before finally entering an apartment building. He climbed the narrow stairs to the third floor, took out his key, and opened the door to his apartment.
He seems to have developed considerable counter-surveillance skills.
With a creak, the door opened, and Shermane's eyes lit up as he saw a young girl in a long black dress.
This girl had a sweet and gentle face and an indescribably graceful figure. Even standing by the window, blocking the sunlight and making her surroundings appear dark, she seemed to be gilded with gold, becoming even more holy and beautiful.
"What brings you here?" Shermane stared at the other person in surprise at first, then couldn't help but look him up and down a few times.
His barely noticeable Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed.
The next second, he abruptly turned his head to the side, seemingly unable to look directly at him.
"Ms. Trissy..." Shermane stammered as he addressed her.
Trissy's smile slowly blossomed, making the poorly lit room seem much brighter. Then, she asked in a slightly teasing tone:
Why won't you look at me?
"I... I don't know. I like... I like men, so why... why do I still have so many strange thoughts when I see you..." Shermane stammered, still looking at the ground to his side.
Trissy's expression suddenly became a little complicated, but she quickly smiled as if nothing had happened:
Women also appreciate beautiful and attractive women of their own kind.
She paused for a moment and then said:
"I'm here today to give you a task. You made rapid progress the Original, which I was very satisfied with, but recently it seems to have stalled."
A hint of fear flashed across Shermane's face, and he instinctively took a step back, saying:
"I... I don't think it's necessary to do that..."
Seeing that Trissy did not refute him, Shermane's words gradually became more fluent:
"I really can't bring myself to incite others to steal, rob, or kill. That's too bad, too despicable!"
"Even those people you initially asked me to assassinate, I now feel I went too far. Although they did insult me, beat me, discriminate against me, spread rumors about me, and hurt me in various ways to gain pleasure, their actions didn't warrant paying with their lives."
Trissy smiled, not at all surprised:
"That's not what you said at the time. You hated them, you were filled with resentment towards them, and as soon as you gained extraordinary abilities, you couldn't wait to take revenge on them. I only mentioned it briefly, and you planned several assassination attempts on your own. I still remember you covered in blood, trembling, yet with a fanatical satisfaction."
As Shermane listened, he couldn't help but back away until he was stopped by the door, which had somehow closed. He then covered his face with his hands and whispered:
"No!
"I have nightmares every night now, dreaming that they are surrounded by me, chasing me, tearing me apart, covered in blood..."
Thud! A paper bag fell to the ground, spilling out several long loaves of bread, while a stack of newspapers landed right next to them.
"That's normal," Trissy calmly interrupted Shermane. "It's an inevitable psychological transformation stage for Assassin. Think about it, when those people bullied you before, didn't you want to kill them?"
"... Yes." Shermane hesitated for a moment before replying.
Trissy then chuckled softly:
"Just pretend you killed them because you were being bullied and you were fighting back."
Her words had an inherent quality that made people want to listen and believe. Shermane quickly calmed down and nodded.
Thinking about it this way, it really does feel much better...
Upon hearing this, Trissy's dimples appeared, and she added playfully:
"Besides, they weren't a match for you when they were alive, so what's there to be afraid of when they're dead?"
"Even if they become ghosts or phantoms, it doesn't matter. As long as you diligently complete the 'ritual' and take the Potion again, you can burn all those spirits to death!"
"But, but, seeing others become ugly, crazy, and vicious under my instigation, I just... I just can't bear it." Shermane was still quite unwilling.
Trissy gave a barely perceptible twitch of her lips, but her smile remained unchanged as she said:
"That's the evil they already possessed, it has nothing to do with you. Even without you, at certain times and in certain situations, these evil thoughts could still erupt."
"Furthermore, the tasks I've assigned you are all related to gangs. Don't you know what kind of people they are? Making them fight amongst themselves and kill each other is a sign of mercy and compassion for you and innocent residents like you in the East Borough."
Shermane instinctively opened his mouth, but then swallowed the words back.
He suddenly fell silent.
Trissy glanced at him with a flickering gaze, and continued in a soft voice:
"You are only one step away from your ultimate goal. Once you complete the remaining 'ritual,' you can drink the third Potion and completely transform into a woman."
"Then you can use the name ' Shermane ' that we chose before, what a beautiful name! Then, as a girl, you can leave Backlund for Awwa County or Desi County to start a completely new life, with nothing to do with anything here anymore. Hmm, you'll definitely be charming, pursued by many excellent men, and choose the one you like best from among them to marry, have lively children, raise them to be healthy, take them skiing in Winter County, vacationing in Desi Bay, and enjoying the entertainment only nobles have at the hunting grounds..."
"Didn't you say you were willing to give anything to find yourself?"
Shermane's lips moved a few times, he pursed them tightly for a moment, and then slowly opened them to say:
"Ms. Trissy, I understand. I will do as you instruct."
After he finished speaking, he seemed to lose all his strength, swaying and about to fall, and subconsciously reached out to grab the coat rack next to him.
During this process, his gaze naturally swept over the stack of newspapers on the ground.
The stack of newspapers had already fallen apart, revealing a certain article in the middle:
"... Mr Dawn Dantès, a wealthy man from Desi, intends to acquire Larve Steel Company, believing it to have considerable profitability and development prospects..."
"Sir, are you really interested in acquiring Larve Steel Company?" Enuni, the personal valet at 160 Böklund Street, asked as they went upstairs.
Dawn Dantès shook his head and laughed:
"This news is pure fabrication. I only met Mr. Phil Larve, the owner of Larve Steel Company, once at the ball last week and exchanged a few words with him."
Walter, the butler standing nearby, breathed a slight sigh of relief upon hearing this, and then added:
"Sir, Larve Steel Company is indeed looking for a buyer, and there are quite a few interested parties."
In other words, Phil himself had the reporter leak this information in order to get a better price? Klein nodded thoughtfully and entered the semi-open room with a large balcony, preparing to go above the Gray Fog later and observe whether the Hibbert family was acting strangely, using the prayer lights of "believer" Enuni.
This is what he has been doing for the past few days.