Bohaimu Street, newspaper booths, and mailboxes.

This is the content recorded on the note given to him by Aguf a few days ago. Botanical Street is in the northern urban area. Starting from his doorstep, you will first walk to the near of the detective office and confirm that there are no followers around. The carriage has been around for more than half an hour and will walk several blocks along the way before you can reach your destination.

At 9 o'clock in the evening, at the agreed time, Donald appeared in front of the newspaper booth on time, and there was a middle-aged man sitting inside, with big belly and sparse hair. Donald was still adjusting his pocket watch when he was over, and the ordinary ones could not be more ordinary.

Such a person is really a member of the cult?

However, there were indeed no other newspaper booths around, so Donald could only hesitate to take out the copper sheet and put it on the counter in front.

"You are here on time. Wait on the bench next to me for 3 minutes. I will close the store."

Seeing the token, the middle-aged man's hand was unexpectedly quick, holding it in his hand, and then pretended to hand over a new magazine.

9 o'clock is the normal closing time for the newspaper booth. It is agreed to be during this period to ensure that everything is normal.

"It really means underground organization joints, which is no less than the underground market..."

Strictly speaking, cult organizations do not have the same existence as underground markets. The latter is acquiesced by the government, while the former is an organization that will be directly listed on the list of extermination once discovered.

There is no room for maneuver at all, no wonder they make these things so complicated.

When he saw the shopkeeper of the newspaper booth again, he changed into a brown coat and a beret, not a bowler or a tall silk top hat, and had no walking stick in his hand. Obviously, his identity was not even enough for the middle class.

When he closed the newspaper and magazine door, he gestured to Donald in a hidden place to follow.

“Where to go?”

It was obvious that the other party was leading the way, but Donald was walking in front of him. The manager of the newspaper booth was just standing behind him and directing his progress.

"My house."

"ah?"

What does it mean to go to your house? The transaction location is at your house?

About 10 minutes later, Donald looked at the dilapidated house on the two floors in front of him and realized that the other party was not joking.

The lights were emitted from the window next to the house, and Donald glanced over and saw a child looking at the two of them behind the window.

"That's yours..."

"Son, it's my child. Please come in. Lord Augustus is already waiting for you at home."

The newspaper booth manager confirmed Donald's guess without hesitation, but the latter choked in his throat.

Cultists...have children?

In Donald's eyes, cult members are always people who are unsustainable in their lives and lose hope for the future, so they embark on this dark road.

However, when the door opened, he saw a woman coming out of the kitchen with a bowl of steamed potatoes. Behind her, a little girl holding an empty porcelain bowl was followed.

"Your Excellency, Mr. Auguste is waiting for you upstairs and go up to the second room."

The woman was also aware of his affairs and bowed to him without any worries. The girl actually followed suit and bent down. The middle-aged man bowed his arms around the shoulders of the other child, which was a habitual movement.

"No, no need to bow... If you are hungry, go to dinner quickly, I'll go up by myself."

He quickly stopped it, and his tone involuntarily increased several degrees. Donald rubbed the little girl's hair, and his left hand holding the cane with a hiding knife was tight and white.

When he walked to the stairs and looked back, the couple and their two children had already sat on the dining table and had dinner like ordinary people, but the heavy meaning behind this made him breathless.

Such two young children have not yet matured enough in their self-awareness, which is the time to imitate their parents to establish their own concepts of life.

How can this be done?

I suppressed my discomfort, walked up the stairs, stood in front of the second room, knocked on the door, and opened the door was Oguf, inside, there was a sorted storage room, the window on one side was open, and there were simply tables and chairs inside, and the light was still bright.

Pick~ Pick~

As soon as he sat down, the dense footsteps from outside the window shocked both of them. Augoff took a big step to the window, looking down against the wall with his back against him.

"It's okay, it's just a team of policemen arresting people. The target is not our place, but a small base nearby."

After staying at the window for a few minutes, the footsteps were gone, and gunshots were vaguely echoing outside, but Augoff's expression seemed relaxed and he returned to his seat.

"stronghold?"

"It's just an intelligence transfer station within the organization, it doesn't matter."

Augoff put a suitcase on the table without any concern and opened the iron buckle.

"Did you get the news in advance?"

"No, now everyone in that stronghold should have been arrested. Don't worry, it won't affect us. It will just kill a few lower-class believers, and it won't affect anything."

Human life was so insignificant in his mouth that the deaths of several believers seemed to have been lost for only a few pennies.

Even worse.

"So are the people below?"

"Of course, these people are at the bottom of society, and only a little favor can make them devote themselves to the church... some chess pieces that can occasionally come in handy."

When Augustus communicated with Donald, he completely regarded him as a demon, so he naturally did not dare to deceive him in his words.

Money is exchanged for gratitude, and then controls thoughts.

Finally dragging them down the abyss.

This reality is too cruel. I thought that the warm family below may be sacrificed as abandoned at some point in the future.

For the first time, Donald developed a tremendous disgust towards the cult.

They are not qualified to talk about other people's life and death so casually!

"Mr. Grant, this is our sincerity. Mr. Rastolle specifically told me that I must participate in the transaction in person. This is what you want, and this is what you need to translate."

Augoff did not feel Donald's emotional change at all, but focused on getting things out of the box, 3 reels, 2 bottles of potions, which were everything in the box.

Open one by one, all the three scrolls are copied versions, two of which need to be translated, and the remaining one is the recipe for talent potion Donald wants and the matching magic circle. The potion is naturally the potion that enhances the meditation effect.

“Agile thinking…”

Open the talent scroll and try to divert your attention to prevent the exposure of his own emotions. Now he can't do anything to this cult.

But this does not mean later.

A simple reading, the above records a mental talent suitable for all wizards.

The effect description of agile thinking includes increasing the flow of mental power, accelerating the casting speed, etc.

It is obvious that Rastoll also invested a lot of money to be able to come up with such a targeted talent scroll. No wonder he only brought one talent scroll and added a few bottles of potions to let him translate two copies.
Chapter completed!