Life in North America, you call this an autopsy officer?!
Chapter 213 - 162: Offering Themselves Up (Additional - 2 for the Alliance Leader ’Praise of the Soul Reaper’)

Chapter 213: Chapter 162: Offering Themselves Up (Additional Chapter 2 for the Alliance Leader ’Praise of the Soul Reaper’)

But this person had never shown his face from start to finish.

The only witness was killed by Susan.

Thus, the Night Demon Organization was unable to gather clues about this unknown entity in a short time.

"According to the information, the person most likely in charge of those ’Water of Reason’ raw materials should be this unknown Number Three.

He probably hasn’t even left London," Brian mused.

According to the information provided by the obsession, ’Water of Reason’ was actually a green, gel-like colloid.

The raw materials of this thing were secretions from a certain plant, which had to be extensively purified to obtain the final product remembered by Brian’s obsession.

Therefore, the quantity of raw materials couldn’t be small; otherwise, these mutants wouldn’t have risked kidnapping a pharmaceutical company executive.

This unknown mutant was probably still in London, guarding the vital raw materials that were integral to maintaining their sanity.

The problem was, there were no clues at all.

London was not small, densely populated, with people of various identities. Finding someone was akin to finding a needle in a haystack unless information could be coerced from the other two mutants.

Brian was suddenly enlightened.

No wonder the Night Demon Organization was bargaining with him.

They probably didn’t believe he could find any of those three people within a mere five days, let alone the Water of Reason itself.

However, the limited information still gave Brian some hints.

First, the third mutant who hadn’t appeared probably had the ability to stay hidden, at least inconspicuously.

In the British Commonwealth—which was not as diverse as Gaul—African people weren’t numerous; the appearance of one or two would be very conspicuous. So, the third mutant either had a special ability to remain hidden or was likely hiding in the sewers.

London’s sewer system was even more outrageous than Los Angeles’s underground drainage network.

Due to cholera and other contagious diseases, in 1859, London spent a great deal of manpower and resources over eight years to build a 2000-kilometer-long honeycomb-shaped sewage pipeline network, virtually hollowing out London’s underground.

These sewage pipelines, made of the most advanced special cement at the time, were large and spacious. As long as one didn’t mind the filth and stench, it was not only livable but passable by car.

Additionally, with countless intersecting lines, the complex honeycomb-shaped pipelines connected everywhere, almost reaching any sewer entrance in London. Finding a hidden mutant in there was extremely difficult.

Brian’s range of activity was limited, and competing with the Night Demon Organization’s men to capture the other two mutants that had escaped from London was unlikely.

His only chance to find the raw materials for the Water of Reason and fulfill the Bald Priest’s obsession within five days was to find that unknown mutant priest with no records.

The task was arduous, but not impossible.

Brian had absorbed the obsessions of several members of the Original Sect before and had briefly reviewed some of their memories, knowing that these people had quite special communication methods.

Although he didn’t understand the meanings of these communication methods, if he could find any lingering traces, perhaps he could lock onto the scent of the person who left those traces and track them down.

Whether it would work, he had to see it for himself.

...

The next day.

Brian, the new tyrant of the Ancient Castle, snatched four or five steaks, filled his stomach, then mounted the motorcycle prepared outside the camp, and headed to the scene of the first incident.

During this, Derek and Melita tried to offer help, only to be flatly rejected by him.

Opportunities were only once.

The two had previously feared offending other members and opted to retreat, desiring to cling to Brian’s coattails, which were simply delusional.

Along the road near the Thames River.

Brian wove through the slow-moving traffic and based on the map, arrived at the Original Sect’s initially exposed stronghold within just over twenty minutes.

It was a derelict manor.

London, derelict manor—putting these two terms together sounded somewhat absurd.

But this was actually a normal occurrence.

In Europe and America, high inheritance taxes were imposed, as much as one-third to half of the government’s appraised value, with annual maintenance required.

Labor here wasn’t cheap.

Some down-on-their-luck individuals, unable to meet certain evasion criteria, reluctantly had to forsake their inheritances; hence, Europe had many neglected manors and ancient castles.

Some with good geographic locations would find new owners.

Others in less desirable locations really became sites for horror films.

This manor’s location was actually not bad; its remaining ownerless was probably due to other factors.

Brian arrived at his destination after asking for directions several times.

...

There weren’t many people around here, and the place had already been cordoned off by the London police.

One could see the dilapidated iron railings and the green vines crawling all over the rusty fences.

Dirty stucco statues still bore traces of spray-paint, but some areas covered with toilet paper undoubtedly reminded Brian, the outsider, of some of the area’s rather unsavory traditions of relieving oneself anywhere.

Apart from the smell of excrement, Brian, with his keen sense of smell—even without using his Enhanced Smell—could detect a strong stench of decaying corpses as he approached.

The closer he got, the more pungent the smell became.