It was a scorching afternoon, and everything was burned white by the sun.
The water vapor is steaming, swept by the weak sea breeze, and blown towards Avalon, adding a third of suffocating heat to the city.
In the hot wind that makes people sweat, the whole city seems to be exuding a burnt smell.
In the upper city, in an exquisite villa, the study room was filled with air-conditioning. A steady stream of cool breeze blows in from the pipes, allowing people to enjoy comfortably even in such hot summer.
Behind the desk, a slightly older man wearing a monocle was concentrating on cleaning his favorite pipe. In the silence, hurried footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door.
He frowned, raised his head and looked outside the door, and saw the old housekeeper pushing the door open in a panic.
The man was sweating profusely and looked flustered. He looked at his master in horror, but was speechless.
It looked like he had run all the way from the gate, panting, and this old bone seemed to be running for his life, looking completely lost and confused, and holding a crumpled envelope in his hand.
"Spencer, Mr. Spencer."
He walked forward quickly and put the opened envelope in his hand on the table: "I just got the letter... Take a look at this."
"Whose family is it from? Didn't you just reply to the insignificant letter for me?"
Spencer frowned, opened the folded letter paper, and looked at the contents, which seemed insignificant.
It looked like a letter from a junior, greeting me about my body, thanking me for taking care of me, and feeling lucky for the advice I gave at someone's wedding last month...
last month
He was stunned for a moment, and a bad premonition emerged in his heart: "Did I attend any weddings on the 7th of last month?"
"No, sir."
Karen, who knew Spencer's schedule, shook his head stiffly: "The seventh of last month... was the day those people came to pick up the goods."
"Those people? Picking up the goods?"
Spencer was stunned and froze.
He lowered his head to look at the letter again, only to see what seemed to be an ordinary sentence. Every line seemed to hint at a transaction that no one should have known about.
Cargo quantity, departure time, distribution channel…
The cargo of that ship that should have been unknown to anyone, the smuggled arms that should have been hidden in the dark, and the secrets that should have been kept rotten in the stomach, were written in the letter with full knowledge!
Six hundred sets of heavy armor, seventy of the latest Watcher crossbows, and most importantly... five sets of Archangel armor, a battlefield killing machine developed by the Royal Academy.
They should have been quietly smuggled into the dark world and become a secret that no one knows. It should have been, it should have been...
It was fucking supposed to be!
But now it was all exposed by one person, and that person left his name at the end of the letter so arrogantly and mockingly.
—Sherlock Holmes!
At the end of the letter, the person who left the handwriting said this.
After reading the last line, Spencer's face turned pale and solidified.
"Those goods were... discovered, sir." Butler Karen's voice was hoarse.
"impossible!"
Spencer was furious at first, but looking at the old butler's panicked eyes, he didn't know where to direct this full of anger!
"Fuck, fuck..."
He gritted his teeth, crumpled the entire letter into waste paper, threw it on the ground, and stepped on it angrily. Until he finally calmed down, he turned around and asked:
"Where is the person who brought the letter?"
"It was a little beggar who threw it into the mailbox. We had no time to catch it and ran away." The old housekeeper wiped his sweat: "Master, do we need to..."
"calm!"
Spencer gritted his teeth: "It's not that bad yet, it can still be covered up."
He suppressed the trembling in his heart and said to himself, as if to comfort himself: "If it can still be covered up, no one will know, no one..."
"Master, master!"
The servant knocked on the door, and after pushing it open, he found the solid atmosphere in the room, and the gloomy gazes of two people looking at him.
"what's up?"
Spencer's eyes were full of murderous intent: "Didn't I say you are not allowed to disturb me in the study?"
"Here, here are two guests, they want to see you."
"Don't you see I'm busy?!"
Spencer was furious and smashed the pipe at his feet, completely forgetting that it was his most beloved treasure. He roared, venting the panic in his heart:
"Tell them to get lost! I don't see anyone! Do you understand?!"
"He, they said..."
The servant swallowed: "They said they are the fifth department and want to consult you on something."
Spencer was stunned, and the old housekeeper Karen turned back stiffly, his eyes distracted:
"The military's... fifth department?"
The servant nodded.
Karen stumbled and fell to the ground, almost stopping breathing.
This old butler, who had always been proud of his grace, could no longer maintain his original heroic posture. He showed his age, resembling an epileptic patient who couldn't take care of himself.
He looked back at Spencer, his eyes full of despair:
"Master..."
The Fifth Sector, the Hound Sector, the Mad Dog Den, the Executioner's House, the Crematorium, and the Nightmare Sector...these are its nicknames.
As we all know, the military has only four departments, and there is no fifth. But the fifth one exists. They were secretly established after the Dragoons were banned and are responsible for surveillance, intelligence, assassinations and dealing with all issues that cannot be brought to light.
They do not belong to any order. These guys are wild dogs who are only loyal to the royal family. The person in charge is an old man who has experienced three dynasties and is a madman who makes people hate him to the point of itch - Maxwell.
Under the leadership of this old bone, they almost turned into a nightmare for the entire Angel. Everyone knows that these executioners come to your door for any reason...
"Master, master... gone, master."
The servant called to the sluggish Spencer in a panic, and reached out to pat him on the shoulder, but Spencer screamed, slapped his hand away, staggered back, and almost leaned against the wall.
"I do not go!"
He looked horrified, huddled in the corner, and screamed like crazy: "I'm not going anywhere! The Rossi family is a meritorious service to the kingdom, they can't do this to me!"
"Master, they left." The servant lowered his head and reported again: "They left."
Spencer was stunned, as if in disbelief: "Gone?"
"Yes, let's go."
The servant nodded: "They said you looked inconvenient. They left an invitation letter saying that you are welcome to come and sit at any time, or they will come to pick you up."
Spencer sat in his chair in confusion, looking out the window blankly.
Under the scorching sun outside the window, two men in black boarded the carriage and left silently. They're gone. Are these crazy dogs really gone
After a long time, Spencer finally came to his senses, raised his head and ordered:
"Get out! Everyone get out! I want to be alone..."
The servant helped the limp Karen out. Spencer, alone in the quiet study, activated the secret door and walked into the small secret room.
He sat on the chair in the secret room, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes.
When he opened his eyes again, he had transformed into a raptor.
A vulture soaring in the sky.
…
When he arrived at the secret conference room on the top floor of the bell tower, everything was in chaos.
Angry and panicked raptors were chattering and screaming.
The vulture folded its wings and landed in the middle. It found that the people who came here today all looked very familiar... They were all "companions" who had worked with him.
The prudent and mature "Pelican" is maintaining order.
"Everyone, calm down and don't make any noise!"
"Pelican! Do you really understand our current situation?" The magpie screamed: "What is going on with that letter?"
Vulture was startled to realize that he was not the only one to receive the letter.
He walked around and found that fourteen families had received the letter from an unknown source, and six of them had already had secret police visit them.
"Where's the Green Falcon?" the Vulture asked in a low voice.
"Taken away."
The owl descended from the sky and said coldly: "I just received the news just a few minutes ago."
The birds fell silent for a while, their eyes panicked.
"Everyone, calm down."
In contrast, Pelican is much calmer: "Obviously, our relationship with the Rat Society has been discovered. The smuggling records have been completely exposed. The matter has reached this point and is irreversible. We need to deal with the aftermath, deal with the aftermath, understand What?"
"Who is that guy named Holmes?" The owl grinded its teeth angrily: "I want this bastard to die with no body intact! Where is the robin? Isn't he specifically responsible for things in the lower city?"
"Calm down, my friend, I'm here."
A blue robin fell from the sky, landed in the middle of the crowd, and said calmly: "The people below are chasing clues."
"Damn it, it's always being investigated, it's being investigated!"
The vulture was furious: "Those trash can't find anything!"
Pelican also nodded: "Most of the people in the lower city who are willing to work for us are from the Rat Guild. Can the Rat Guild still be trusted now? We must let Sam give us an explanation!"
"Sam has disappeared. He knows we are looking for him and will definitely hide."
The robin told even worse news: "Perhaps, he has fallen into the hands of the guy named Sherlock Holmes."
Pelican hesitated for a moment and said, "I can go find the musicians from the Enlightenment Department. I will definitely be able to find some clues from the letter."
"It's useless. I've already looked for it."
The owl shook his head: "Master Mona has already read the letter. There are no traceable clues on it, no fingerprints, no sweat, no body odor. The guy wore gloves. There is no media that can trace his identity. The guy himself He’s a connoisseur, he might even be a musician.”
"Where's the letter paper? Letter paper is the best medium!"
"I tried it. What I traced back in the movement "Yesterday Reappeared" was too confusing. There were even a lot of musicians' breaths left on it, but none of them were him. Those letters were as if they were at a meeting of the Musicians Association. It's the same as what was written in the room! Moreover, even a blind person can tell that the person who wrote this thing is definitely a nobleman... or a scribe from a nobleman's family, even without looking for someone from the police department. Everyone, the secretaries around you are really trustworthy. What?"
He paused and his eyes became dangerous:
"Or is he one of us?"