Most of the vampires living in Huntington City were engaged in vineyard and winery management or related upstream and downstream industries. The church was aware of their existence, but as long as they did not suck human blood, the church tacitly allowed the vampires to coexist with humans in the local area.
The fellow tribesman Mr. Bernhardt mentioned was Orlan Wilson, a broker who lived in the west of the city and introduced local wineries to foreign wine merchants. Mr. Wilson himself was a three-ring sorcerer, 34 years old, proficient in divination, but still unmarried.
He was not particularly close to Mr. Bernhardt, but for business reasons, he would visit Mr. Bernhardt's estate every New Year.
"He went to the New World to visit friends this spring and accidentally got a rather troublesome relic, a dagger. The Pantanal Voodoo Society somehow found out about this and wanted to buy the relic, but Wilson didn't want to sell it to them, so they found me and hoped that I could accept the relic."
Mr. Bernhardt said that he was not only powerful, but also had the title of Viscount of Carsenrick. He wondered if Pantanal Voodoo would target a nobleman like him.
The carriage soon brought the two to Red Wine Lane where Mr. Wilson lived. This area was also the largest red wine trading distribution center in the east of Huntington City.
Mr. Wilson lived alone at No. 20, Red Wine Lane, a three-story building without a loft. Mr. Bernhardt told Shade that Mr. Wilson used the first floor as his office and the second floor and above as his living quarters.
The two men got off the carriage chatting and laughing, but after Mr. Bernhardt knocked on the door, no one came to open it after waiting for a long time.
"Maybe he's not at home?"
Xia De said to the vampire lord who was dressed quite decently, wearing a black cashmere coat and holding a cane. The latter frowned slightly:
"Wilson took the initiative to invite me here. We agreed to meet at 10:30 in the morning."
"It's ten thirty-one now."
Xia De gave a more precise time:
"Did something happen to him that made him go out? Let's go ask the neighbors."
The two asked the neighbors living on both sides, but none of them had seen Mr. Wilson today. However, the little boy selling newspapers opposite No. 20 told him after Shad bought a newspaper that a man had entered the house about half an hour ago, but left soon.
The boy did not know the owner of the house, so through his description, Mr. Shad and Mr. Bernhardt did not know who had entered and exited the house half an hour ago.
But Mr. Bernhardt already felt a little embarrassed. He specially invited his friend Xia De, whom he hadn't seen for a long time, to visit here together, but he was blocked at the door and couldn't get in, which made him feel quite embarrassed.
"Wait a moment."
Standing on the doorstep of No. 20, Mr. Bernhardt pricked his finger with a fine needle, squeezed out a drop of blood and smeared it on the crack of the door. Then, the drop of blood seeped into the inside of the door like a living thing.
"I want to see what he is doing."
The middle-aged viscount snorted and then half-closed his eyes, as if he was concentrating on controlling the drop of blood.
Shade then unfolded the newspaper in his hand to read the local news, but before he finished reading the first page about the economic growth situation of this year announced by the Ministry of Finance of the United Kingdom of Carsenrick at the end of the year, Mr. Bernhardt suddenly said:
"Oh, it seems we have encountered some accidents."
"What's wrong?"
"To be precise, Wilson may be dead."
Xia De looked at Mr. Bernhardt in surprise:
"Then let's go in and take a look."
He knocked on the door lock, and with a click, the door lock popped open.
Mr. Bernhardt sighed deeply:
"I didn't expect this to happen. I hope it won't delay your business."
"Of course not. Rather, I just happen to want to have further contact with the Pantanal Voodoo Society."
After pushing the door and entering the room, Mr. Bernhardt led Shade directly to the office on the first floor. In the windowless room, the walls were all splattered with blood, and the body of a strange man Shade had never seen before was lying on the floor. Judging from the amount of bleeding, even a vampire would not survive.
Xia De stood at the door and looked around. Mr. Bernhardt had already squatted down to check the body, but suddenly stood up and took several steps back:
"careful!"
Vines dripping with blood grew wildly from the corpse, and in just a few seconds they had engulfed the entire corpse like a snake nest. They quickly crawled towards the two people at the door, and their squirming appearance did not look like plants at all.
"It's the Panatar Voodoo Coven, those damn guys!"
Mr. Bernhardt cursed rudely, told Shade to step back, and then snapped his fingers -
Pah~
The blood splattered all around like a liquid bomb that exploded with a muffled sound. The blood splattered again with rolling heat waves and stained the vines. A strange blood-red flame immediately burned up:
"Blood flames. Most of the vines summoned by the ring sorcerers of the Pantanal voodoo coven are extremely afraid of fire."
Mr. Bernhardt explained, and after the vines were gradually burned by the bloody flames, he and Shade walked towards the corpse again.
The vines emerged from the corpse, greatly reducing the integrity of the corpse. Xia De didn't want to use any adjectives to describe the corpse, as this would affect his appetite and sleep quality in the future.
However, when Shade and Mr. Bernhardt tried to turn the body over, they both froze for a moment:
"Um?"
Shade heard the voice beside him, while Mr. Bernhardt realized something:
"A fake corpse?"
It was Shade who said this first, and Mr. Bernhardt nodded immediately:
"It is indeed fake. It is really amazing. This is the 'bloody fake body', a magic unique to our race. Apart from our own race, few people can see through this substitute body at a glance."
"If he is really proficient in divination, he might be able to foresee this threat in advance."
Shad nodded, and in front of Shad, Mr. Bernhardt unscrupulously dipped his finger in the blood and put it in his mouth.
The middle-aged vampire gentleman narrowed his eyes slightly, wiped his fingers clean, and stood up:
"Detective, let's get out of here first. Wilson was indeed attacked. The Pantanal Voodoo Society killed him and stole the relic. But he left me a message in his blood. He's hiding now. Let's go meet him. At least we'll know what happened."
"OK."
Xia De nodded:
"It would be best if this gentleman is not dead, but the Voodoo Society is really cruel."
"How much sense can someone have who seeks power from the evil creatures of the warp? Besides, they are just a group of natives from the Great Swamp... I don't look down on country people... You know what I mean."
Mr. Bernhardt put on his gloves, and Shade asked again:
"Where is Mr. Wilson hiding? Is he far from here? If it's convenient, we can have lunch together. I also brought you some wine."
Mr. Bernhardt smiled:
"Not far away, in the Scarlet Rose Inn in the city. He is hiding there. He is absolutely safe."
The Scarlet Rose Inn was located near the Huntington train station, but it was not on the main road, but hidden in a small alley. After passing the low wall with wanted posters, passing the clothes drying in the alley, and crossing the muddy ground, they saw the inn deep in the alley.
If the "Pink Rose Tavern" that Shad had visited in Coldwater Harbor City was the kind of inn that you could tell at a glance would provide illegal services; then the "Bloody Rose Tavern" hidden deep in the alleys of Huntington City was the kind of inn that you could tell at a glance was absolutely legitimate.
The wooden brick and stone structure does not occupy a large area. There are even chicken pens and pig pens on the side of the first floor. Rude men are shouting in slang in the tavern, and the peeling wall shows how old the history is. The old double-leaf wooden door, which is rare in this era, is used as the door of the hotel, and the interior decoration is shabby, as if it has returned to the era of 40 or 50 years ago.
Even if this hotel was running at least one illegal business, it probably wouldn't be so shabby.
Fortunately, the tables and chairs were clean, and the tavern on the first floor of the hotel also provided decent service. The interior of the tavern was filled with the smell of fermented food and alcohol. It was too shabby and did not even have gas lamps, but very old hanging kerosene lamps. Anchors, rusty swords and strange decorations were hung randomly on the walls. This was a slum hotel that served the poor people who had no money.
Fearing that he might disturb Mr. Wilson, who was probably still in a state of panic, Mr. Bernhardt asked Shad to wait on the first floor while he went upstairs alone to find his fellow tribesman who lived in Room 302.
So Xia De, holding the newspaper, asked the old bartender for a glass of rye beer, then sat at a relatively quiet table against the wall, unfolded the newspaper and continued to read the news that he had not finished reading under the dim kerosene lamp.
The shade of that kerosene lamp probably needs a clean.
Mr. Bernhardt hurried up the stairs. The creaking sound made him worry whether the stairs would collapse immediately. Under the landscape oil painting that looked like abstract graffiti at the corner of the second floor, he passed by a middle-aged man with very short hair, only the stubble could be seen.
The latter had dark skin, extremely severe double eyelids, and was wearing an unusual old-fashioned brown robe that people in desert areas often wore.
Mr. Bernhardt just felt that this person was strange, but he just passed by. The man wrapped in an old brown robe, holding his notebook with the corners slightly curled up, walked to the first floor.