In an instant, every hair on Barton's body stood on end.
Although he couldn't be sure that what he was smelling was blood, his slightly unusual Spirit Intuition told him that it was the smell of blood.
Had Furnar met with misfortune? Like the archaeological team I was in back then? No, there was no blood on the envelope, so how could it smell of blood? After a brief, extreme moment of fear, Barton jumped to his feet.
As an ordinary person, his only instinctive reaction to this kind of situation is...
That means calling the police!
Just as Barton picked up the envelope and left his seat, he suddenly remembered something:
The Loen Antiquities Collection and Preservation Foundation has clear internal regulations on how to handle similar situations. If a project exhibits frightening or incomprehensible phenomena, everything must be immediately halted, and the Compliance Department must be notified so that they can take charge of the follow-up.
Barton never quite understood why he needed to go to the " Compliance Department." In his mind, it was a department that handled terms and reviewed projects for violations, and had nothing to do with dealing with unknown dangers.
However, when the Foundation's founder, Miss Audrey Hall, reviewed the internal operating rules, she didn't make many changes, only adding this one clause. Therefore, the higher-ups were unwilling to argue with her about it.
"Obviously, I'd much rather go see the security chief..." Barton muttered as he walked out of the office, heading towards the " Compliance Department " at the end of the corridor.
He knocked three times, trying to calm himself down, and very gentlemanly.
"Please come in." A rather unremarkable voice came from inside.
Frankly, Barton knew almost nothing about his colleagues in the " Compliance Department," only that they were ruthless, swift in action, and had caught one corrupt official after another who had embezzled Foundation funding.
Taking a deep breath, Barton turned the handle and pushed open the door.
In his imagination, the " Compliance Department " should be working in an extremely dark environment, where everyone remains silent, occasionally exchanging a few words in hushed tones, deciding the Fate of a project and its person in charge. However, what first caught his eye was bright sunshine, brightly colored decorations, and a spacious and open layout.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" A black-haired, brown-eyed employee from the " Compliance Department," with an unremarkable appearance, approached.
He was wearing a heavy black wool coat, which seemed to make him less able to withstand the damp, cold winters of East Chester.
In addition, Barton noticed that the " Compliance Department " employee had an accent that sounded like that of Backlund, either born there or who had spent a long time there.
Not so cold, mechanical, or difficult to get along with; in fact, she even seemed approachable... Barton had a similar thought flash through his mind as he spoke hastily:
It seems one of our partners is experiencing a problem!
The letter he sent only had an envelope, no contents, and it still smelled of blood.
The Compliance Department employee showed no change in expression and nodded slightly.
"Let me see the envelope."
Barton then handed over a letter from Archaeologist Furnar.
Only then did he realize that he had been a little impolite, and quickly asked again:
"Excuse me, what should I call you?"
The Compliance Department employee held the envelope up to the sunlight, examined it carefully, and casually replied:
" Pacheco Dawn, Deputy Head of ' Compliance Department,' a senior Lawyer. You can just call me Pacheco."
Before Barton could respond, Pacheco lowered his arm, his expression becoming more serious, and said:
"There are indeed some anomalies."
"My initial assessment is that the letter came from the Clauf Hotel in the city. I stayed there for a while and know that they like to print lavender castle designs on their special envelopes and stationery."
"Should we call the police?" Barton blurted out.
Pacheco shook his head:
"Not needed for now, let's go to the site to check the situation first."
"I need your help with this; I don't know that partner."
"... Okay, I'll go with you," Barton replied hesitantly.
After leaving the " Loen Antiquities Collection and Preservation Foundation " and boarding a horse-drawn carriage, Barton noticed the awkward silence and asked:
" Pacheco, are you from Backlund?"
"No." Pacheco shook his head. "I'm from the Awwa County, I've only lived in Backlund for almost fifteen years."
"Why did you leave Backlund? I heard it's the best city for Lawyer to develop their skills," Barton casually remarked.
Pacheco smiled and said:
But it's also full of competition.
"Okay, just kidding. I used to be the personal Lawyer and partner of Steam- powered car tycoon Franky Cagg, and later he invested in and founded Backlund Bicycle Company, where I became the company's legal counsel."
Barton suddenly realized:
"Miss Audrey owns a significant portion of this company, that's how you got to know her?"
"Yes," Pacheco sighed. "In the previous war, Flamie tragically passed away, and his business became embroiled in various disputes. As his friend, I helped his widow and children secure a considerable share, thus offending some people, which made my situation in Backlund difficult. Fortunately, at this time, Miss Audrey extended an olive branch, inviting me to East Chester County to work at the Foundation as the deputy head of the ' Compliance Department '."
Seeing that Pacheco was telling him even such things, Barton felt increasingly close to him.
He asked with a hint of doubt:
Why would they target you? You were just fulfilling your duties as a friend and Lawyer.
"Those people should target Franky Cagg's widow and children instead."
Pacheco chuckled self-deprecatingly:
"I used some less-than-proper methods."
"In addition, Flamie's widow and children have other friends taking care of them."
During this casual conversation, the carriage arrived at the Clauf Hotel in the heart of City of Stoen.
The hotel is in a very good location; the neighborhood itself is scenic and very quiet, and it's only a ten-minute walk to some of the city's busiest streets.
Upon entering the hotel and finding the owner, Pacheco asked directly:
"We're looking for a friend named Furnar."
Through their previous casual conversation, he had already grasped the general situation of his target.
The boss frowned in confusion:
"If I remember correctly, there shouldn't be a guest named Furnar who checked in."
Upon hearing this, Barton quickly added:
"He was a bit taller than me, looked very muscular, always had a red nose, and often smelled of alcohol..."
He described Furnar's physical features in detail.
The owner thought for a moment and then looked at the waiter next to him.
"There is a guest here," the waiter replied immediately. "He lives in number 309."
Led by the waiter, Barton and Pacheco arrived outside Furnar's room and knocked on the wooden door.
The thumping sound echoed, but there was no sound from inside.
Just as Barton was about to suggest calling the police again, Pacheco suddenly bent down and picked up a tuft of soft white hair from the crack at the bottom of the door.
No, these aren't hairs; they're more like condensed fog.
As Pacheco's fingers touched them, they diffused and blended into the surrounding air.
At the same time, Barton, Spirit Intuition was somewhat unusual, vaguely heard a faint male voice:
" Tamara... Tamara..."