They all call me Great Master-Chapter 331 - 328

After tidying up and closing the "Safe House," Arthur climbed the stairs.

After turning two staircase corners, the young Spirit Medium saw Pendragon, who was pretending to sleep in the Cat’s Nest—although Pendragon was quite stealthy, the Ritual "Orange Cat" allowed Arthur to clearly feel how his cat pretended to be disdainful on the surface but was actually very nervous about his surroundings, not missing any little movement or noise.

How to put it?

A hypocritically indifferent little cat is really adorable!

"Hehehe, come here, little kitty, let Daddy hug you!"

With a weird laugh, Arthur picked up Pendragon and vigorously rubbed him.

Pendragon struggled fiercely but was helpless to escape the devil’s claws.

In the end, he could only lie helplessly in Arthur’s arms with an expression of resigned acceptance on his cat face.

After a good five minutes, Arthur put Pendragon back in the Cat’s Nest. He then signaled Kuliqi that he could return, and after Kuliqi took up a watchful stance at the entrance to the parlor, Arthur finally headed for the kitchen—as a result of the influence of his "Serpent of Death. Thin. Cripple" Bloodline, Arthur hoped the room could be warmer. Although the low temperature wouldn’t harm him, it would make him uncomfortable.

The neatly chopped wood mixed with coal was placed into the kitchen’s stove.

The full combustion inside the stove started to raise the temperature inside No. 2 Cork Street, and thick smoke billowed from the chimney.

Fujin and Wuni, concealed on the roof, were unaffected by the smoke, and their unique eyes of arcane creatures allowed them to continue watching the figures in the Shadows.

...

As the cold night wind blew again, Jorge wrapped his coat tighter around himself. If it wasn’t for that big shot standing behind the guy he was following, he definitely wouldn’t have taken this sort of job.

Compared to this kind of surveillance, he preferred robbery.

The act of abruptly and decisively plundering others’ wealth, seeing the terrified faces and wails of those being robbed, was his favorite thrill.

A whole 5 Suo a day?

Ha, that’s a beggar’s wage!

He used to make more than that from a single robbery.

However, as a clever man, Jorge knew that robbery wasn’t a sustainable strategy. Although he wore a mask every time, if he did it too often, eventually he would catch the attention of those "Blue-Skin Dogs."

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Rather than being chased by the "Blue-Skin Dogs" later on, it was better to become the sort of big shot the "Blue-Skin Dogs" wouldn’t dare to confront.

So, when "Cripple" Finley approached him, he agreed without hesitation—within their little circle, it was always rumored that a big shot backed "Cripple" Finley, who might even be a Noble.

But now, Jorge was starting to regret it.

’Damn it, it’s too cold!

I should have asked for more details!

What if "Cripple" Finley is just bluffing other people?’

The night wind, carrying the dampness of seawater, penetrated his clothes and made Jorge shiver uncontrollably, especially when he saw the thick smoke rising from the chimney of the target house. Imagining the warmth of the room in question, Jorge felt even colder.

’I’m going to find a place out of the wind to stay for a bit, that should be okay, right?’

Thinking this to himself, Jorge moved deeper into the alley, recalling that there was a corner there that was perfect for sheltering from the wind.

Just as Jorge neared the corner he remembered, suddenly a force appeared behind him, pushing him right into it.

Before he could even scream, an invisible hand had already sealed his mouth.

...

"Cripple" Finley sat in a chair, rolling his tobacco, with a lively fire burning in the fireplace—there wasn’t a tiny bit of cold in the room.

Listening to the crackling sounds from the fireplace and puffing on his smoke, Finley’s thoughts began to drift.

He used to be one of Lord Lisop’s attendants.

But after an accident that broke his leg,

just as he thought he would be unceremoniously expelled from South Town, that benevolent lord gave him a new job—collecting intelligence in South Los.

For this, he was immensely grateful.

And so, for ten years, he always fulfilled his duties with all his heart and soul.

This time was no exception.

Although he didn’t know why his lord was interested in a Spirit Medium, he immediately set to work upon receiving the command.

First, he rented a place near the target’s location on Cork Street.

Then, he hired Jorge and another person to follow the target.

Finley knew exactly what these two wanted to do.

All he wanted was to use him to climb onto the high branches of Lordship.

Finley didn’t mind this in the slightest.

His own mission, aside from gathering intelligence, included finding suitable candidates to recommend to his Lord.

In the past ten years, he had recommended no less than a hundred people like Jorge to his Lord.

Adding Jorge now wasn’t worth mentioning at all.

Moreover, Lord Lisop had already promised him that, upon completion of this mission, he could retire back to South Town—he would own a house of his very own, his children would receive the best education, and his wife would live a happy life with him in their home.

As long as he completed this mission, that would be enough.

Thinking this, Finley let out one last smoke ring.

He had to check on those two fellows working for Jorge—he knew their kind all too well, they were ruthlessly efficient but exceedingly lazy.

If he didn’t keep a close eye on them, they were sure to screw up.

After putting on his coat, Finley opened the door.

But then, the scout for Lord Lisop was stunned.

For some reason, there was a person standing outside his door.

The individual was wearing a tattered hooded cape, and the garment was exceedingly dirty, caked with mud, as though they had been pulled out from the earth, with two fist-sized pouches at their waist but equally old.

’A vagrant?’ Finley thought, intending subconsciously to chase the person away.

But as the person lifted their head, Finley was scared out of his wits.

As a scout for Lord Lisop in South Los, Finley had killed more than once over the past ten years, and he considered himself to be quite brave, but he was startled nonetheless when he saw the person’s face before him—

Bandages!

A face wrapped entirely in bandages, with just one bulging eye exposed, and on the stranger’s exposed palms and soles, there were also bandages.

White mix with mud.

Only then did Finley notice that the stranger wasn’t wearing any shoes.

And the stranger’s longsword, starting from the hilt, was also wrapped in bandages.

Sword?

"Wait!"

’Cripple’ Finley shouted.

However, the Bandage Swordsman opposite him seemed unresponsive.

The sword in his hand swept across Finley’s neck like the wind.

Thud!

The fresh blood sprayed and stained the Bandage Swordsman.

The rolling head fell into the interior of the room, making a muted thud.

The Bandage Swordsman didn’t even look back and left right after.

This scene was witnessed by the remaining three mystic side stalkers.

The three individuals belonging to different forces began to convey messages in their own ways amidst their shock and uncertainty.

Soon, new stalkers were following the Bandage Swordsman, toward Mule Street in the Dort District.

The Bandage Swordsman’s steps did not cease, continuing further into Mule Street.

Immediately, the three stalkers hidden in the shadows were puzzled.

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They knew that place.

It was where a family annihilation case had occurred twenty years ago.

The dead were of the Sank family.

It was one of the cases solved by the Spirit Medium, Arthur Kredos.

What was this bandage-wrapped swordsman doing here?

Curiosity arose within the three stalkers, but the next moment, their pupils dilated sharply, and their faces were overcome with endless horror.