"I... last Saturday, when Madame... was holding my arm, at the door, when the light of the belfry came out, I had a vision of you writing to me in your house in the Rue des Irises." "That's why I was able to guess your intention so quickly, and I couldn't help but think... this might be a revelation that the Goddess of Mechanical Sun sent to me, which means that she values you very much... so -" So what to do next? Hitzfeld's scalp began to tingle again. "Crack!" "boom!" There was a crisp sound behind her, which sounded like someone slammed the table hard, knocking the teacup on her side to the ground. "lady!" Looking back in surprise, the girl saw her lady curled up on the table. She pinched her head with both hands and kept making suppressed roars.
There were scattered pieces of teacup on the ground, and a lot of scalding hot tea splashed onto the lady's feet, emitting white smoke, but she was so immersed in some unknown pain that she was unaware of it. “Madam!” Hitzfeld was a little frightened. “Madam! …Madam!!?” "Take... the ink." It seemed like the sound was squeezed out from between teeth. "lady?" "Hold the ink...ink!" The bottle of ink was forced into the girl's hands. "lady……" "Go find Ethan... don't stay here..." "But--" "roll!!!" A huge force pushed Hitzfeld, completely ignoring her resistance, and pushed her out of the door backwards. "boom!" The study door was slammed shut, leaving her alone lying in the corridor in a daze. What is this... Standing up and carefully closing the wooden door, Hitzfeld tried to distinguish the movement inside. There was no sound. The worn wooden boards seemed to suddenly have soundproofing properties. She couldn't hear any sound at all, as if there was no one inside. The lady doesn't want to see her.
Helpless, Hitzfeld had to go downstairs. She first went back to the first floor, dragged the suitcase back to the bedroom on the second floor, took out all the items and documents and piled them on the table. I found a copper basin, filled it with cold water, and threw all the dirty clothes that had accumulated during the trip and had not yet had time to wash into it to soak. There was some leftover bread from lunch in the kitchen, so I toasted it, heated it up, and ate it, and drank some water. I made another similar dish and put it on a plate and placed it at the door of the study. Lock the downstairs door, the iron gate in the corridor, and your bedroom door. "Whoo~" Finally I feel more comfortable. "What the hell is this?" Staring at the ink bottle on the table, Hitzfeld was a little puzzled. The lady she met after returning was very unfamiliar compared to before, and even made her feel a little scared. why? And why did Madam give me this bottle of ink? She saw it clearly in the cellar. The lady's expression when she looked at it - to put it bluntly, it was exactly the same expression as Gollum's expression when he looked at the One Ring. After thinking for a while, Hitzfeld opened the drawer and took out a brand new pen. Just a bottle of ink. Try it, it's impossible to attract the Ringwraiths to kill her... Chapter 45 Snowy Night On winter nights, the snow outside the window never stops falling. From time to time, the cold wind hit the window, making crisp noises. At the Gulliver's house, the light in the second-floor bedroom was always on. "..." Frowning slightly, Hitzfeld looked up from the table and stared at the lines he had drawn with the new pen and ink. The ink is red. Bright red, looking eerie under the dim light. But she had no doubt that it was the blood of some creature, because she opened the lid and smelled it carefully, and there was no fishy smell. Moreover, blood is very difficult to store, and words written with blood fade easily. Except in critical moments, such as on the battlefield, few people would specially extract blood to make ink.
But this looks like ordinary ink... Looking at the notebook that was almost completely filled with grid lines, Hitzfeld became more and more confused. Red ink, well, the color is great. But that seemed to be all. She had been writing and drawing here for a long time but nothing unusual happened. She also used it to paint. Draw a car. It was Ethan's car - in it sat the curvy Detective Xia, comic-style, with two fingers extended and blowing kisses. It's useless. The car wasn't going to come alive from the pages of a book. Detective Xia wasn't going to actually appear and blow her a kiss. Then we can roughly judge that this is just a bottle of ordinary ink. Hitzfeld suspected that his wife's abnormality might be related to some aging diseases. This place seems to have just completed the electrical revolution. Its medical technology is certainly not as good as that of Earth. Those mental illnesses that occur in old age may not have been discovered here yet. Maybe one of these diseases is causing the problem. "..." Hitzfeld also knew that this idea was very rude to the lady, but she really couldn't think of any other possibilities. Fortunately, she went upstairs quietly to check just now, and the tray at the door was gone. At least it means that the lady can still move and eat on her own. She plans to go to Ethan after tonight to see if Shadow Lion can get a doctor to check her out. Thinking about these messy things, the girl threw the notebook aside, picked up a book from the literature books and spread it out. The night was long, and she planned to pass the time by continuing to study them. I glanced at the name, it was handwritten: "Memoirs". ...Why would I bring this thing back when I have nothing to do? Frowning, Hitzfeld felt that he was indeed being too extravagant. After flipping through it, I found that most of it was about mundane daily life, recording how the lady grew up when she was still Lilith Dawson, how she became fascinated with making incense, how she came into contact with Shadow Lion, and how she fell in love with Ivan. Comparing the thickness, this one is probably only as thick as a finger. It was probably overlooked because it was sandwiched between other documents, and she brought it back just like that. Forget it. The girl accepted her fate. I have nothing to do anyway, and these things are quite interesting. She started from the first page and read the records of her mood page by page, sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning.
The lady was born in the suburbs of Port Vien into a merchant family. She suffered a nightmare when she was very young and she was the only one left in the family alive. According to inheritance law, Lilith Dawson, who was only nine years old at the time, was admitted to a local monastery, and all her property was entrusted to the Mechanical Yang Cult for safekeeping, and would be returned to her when she turned 18. The priest of the monastery used to be a perfume maker, and it was he who introduced Lilith to the world of perfume making. As she grew older and gained more knowledge, she gradually understood those extraordinary powers, and after taking back the Dawson family's property, she has been committed to finding them. She always failed at the beginning. Those people always carefully avoided her and were unwilling to reveal even a secret. She was unwilling to give up, and used her wealth to found the Dawson Literary Society. While concentrating on the study of incense making, she also purchased the mysterious knowledge from various channels in her private name. In this way, Dawson Literary Society's accumulation grew stronger and stronger. When this accumulation reaches a certain standard - perhaps when it is no longer suitable to be opened to ordinary people, those extraordinary people finally can't hold it back anymore. Lilith became a member of Shadow Lion as she wished, and Dawson Literature Society was transferred to Shadow Lion for management and opened and used as a small document library within the organization. She showed extraordinary talent. Her clean background, outstanding abilities, and tragic past meant she hated evil to the core. She was quickly promoted to vice-captain of that team. Then to the captain. Then go to the headquarters gate. Then to the instructor. During the two years she worked as a janitor at the headquarters, she met Ivan Gleich. There was a yellowed old photo between the pages. Hitzfeld pulled it out, zoomed in, and saw a young couple standing under a lush tree. Behind them was a cement gate with a vertical plaque with words vaguely engraved on it such as "...Lin Research Association". The young woman was wearing a pure white long dress and had wavy hair, and she was beautiful with a hint of purity. The man was wearing a neat black uniform, a belt, and carrying a gun. His hairstyle was hidden by his peaked cap and could not be seen clearly. All that could be noticed was his high nose bridge, the teardrop mole at the corner of his eye, and a row of neat teeth that showed when he smiled. Very handsome man. Hitzfeld commented. As far as appearance is concerned, the lady has good taste. But the final outcome... "..." Thinking of what happened later, Hitzfeld sighed and suddenly didn't want to watch it anymore. "boom!" There was a slight sound from the glass.
She didn't care. "boom!!" Another sound. She was startled - because it was obviously impossible for the winter wind to do this. With the experience of the previous attack, Hitzfeld quickly jumped off the chair and turned off the light, then climbed onto the table with the Plankton filled with silver bullets at hand. I opened the window carefully and looked outside through the iron bars.
