Dissatisfied and complained about Jenkins' interruption, he got up and poked the coals of the fireplace with a poker, and then explained:
"The level is not the key, the key is that there is a huge difference in his strength between the normal state and the murderous state, which is the root cause of our inability to find these murderous clues.
In short, after paying a few lives, the night watchman team still did not find the murderer. Until a lucky Night's Watchman happened upon him while patrolling alone and killed him in a one-on-one duel. Guess what happened after that? "
Dad deliberately stopped at the most critical place.
"Um… "
Jenkins thought about it, tapped his fingers on the counter table unconsciously, and decided to guess in the bloodiest way:
"He found out that the murderer was his captain, or his closest friend!"
There was a doubtful expression on the father's face: "During the week of your trip, did you only read knight novels, the few books I arranged..."
"I see. Please go on!"
"Hmph, I'll check tomorrow morning... He found a black mark on his chest. That mark is not a specific pattern, but more like a rune-like tattoo."
Chocolate is still lying there, but its small ears show that it is also listening carefully.
"You probably won't know what it is. Even the Orthodox Church spent a lot of effort to find it. That thing is A-01-1-6377, the mark of killing. The last time this kind of thing appeared was in the 14th era things."
The facial features on Chocolate's cute little face were twisted together, as if hearing something disgusting.
Jenkins recalled the various knowledge he had learned in various identities, and indeed he had never heard of the Mark of Killing.
"what is that?"
With his right arm resting on the counter, the gravity of his body tilted forward, showing a curious look.
"A ritual, or... a test. According to the surviving ancient materials we have consulted, each occurrence of the mark of killing is usually three digits. The bearer of these marks can rely on the act of killing any intelligent creature, To strengthen itself, what's even more frightening is that this kind of strengthening is almost unlimited."
As the old man spoke, he generally shook his head.
"Become stronger by killing people, the more you kill, the stronger you become?"
He asked, wondering in his heart whether this is some kind of killing god choosing the son of God to resurrect him.
"You can say that."
Dad affirmed this summary:
"And the holders of these killing marks, after a certain stage, will spontaneously approach the holder of another mark and fight each other. The winner gets all the power of the loser until there is only the last one left. This During this period, any MUJI journalist who defeats the imprint holder one-on-one will gain his identity and power."
"Then, the night watchman who discovered this..."
he asked worriedly.
"It doesn't matter, this kind of imprint can be completely removed through divine rituals, but it must be actively cooperated by the person."
But the expression on Dad's face is still very serious:
"The longer you hold the mark of killing, the more abnormal your spirit will be, and the stronger your desire to kill will be. Those who suddenly gain strength will find it difficult to voluntarily give up what they have. I want to rely on this method to encourage killing It is impossible for the devil to surrender himself."
"Is that so..."
Jenkins nodded slightly, looking at the vase by the wall, feeling that this matter was very weird. Could it be that because the era is coming to an end, all kinds of weird and mysterious things are beginning to appear
"Father, what will happen to the last bearer of the mark, the one who won the killing game?"
The old man didn't answer him, but shook his head slightly: "I know the answer, but I can't answer you here. Aren't you going to church in the afternoon? Ask the secret guard who is on duty at the gate of Vientiane today. It's safe there. "
He spent all his morning time inquiring about a week of anecdotes. Of course, Jenkins also told his father about his adventures about the treasure of Clementine.
Dad also knows some legends around Beldyran, so he is also full of interest in this matter.
After lunch, I went to church with chocolates. Because it was a weekday afternoon, not many believers came to pray.
But the first acquaintance Jenkins met was not the bishop, but the priest Roberts who directed the young people to hang oil paintings in the cloister.
He turned to face the wall, helping the man on the ladder to correctly position the painting so he didn't see Jenkins, who happened to be passing by.
The overall tone of this large oil painting is sombre, and the background seems to be the foyer of a mansion, because the stairs and furniture can be seen near the edge of the picture. On the messy floor in the painting, there are some corpses and people waving their hands to protect their heads. The main image in the picture is a young man jumping high, facing the giant python thrown from the oil painting.
The oil painting only shows his back, so it is impossible to tell who it is. But according to the tradition of the church, such oil paintings praising heroes that can be hung in the church are usually the bestowers who have really done great deeds.
For example, the knight slaying the dragon on the left, or the duel on the battlefield at the corner of the corridor, these things all happened in reality.
"Which scribe has received such an honor recently?"
He guessed in his heart, and heard the old priest shout again:
"Justin, move a little further to the right! You guys need to be quick, even though it's just been delivered from Beldyran, we have to get it right before sunset, it's a matter of attitude, you brash young men understand ?"
"This can't be me?"
He finally realized it.
Bishop Parode's office was still so spacious. When Jenkins knocked on the door and entered, the old man was stamping a document with his ring.
"Oh, Jenkins is here, is the trip going well?"
"Good afternoon, Bishop Parode, the trip went well."
As he spoke, he turned and closed the door, took off his coat and hung it on the hanger behind the door. It's not an iron hook inlaid on the wall, but a solid wood floor hanger. The surface of the horizontal wood protruding diagonally is carved with flower-like patterns, and then painted with brown paint.
Chocolate obediently jumped off Jenkins' shoulders after entering the door, first jumped onto the sofa for hospitality, but seemed uncomfortable, so he ran to the window sill again, letting the sun shine on its beautiful hair.
The cat yawned big.