Steampunk Era: Mad Abield
Chapter 1197: Section 731: Fellow Daoist (Part 2)_2

Chapter 1197: Section 731: Fellow Daoist (Part 2)_2

"Why did you bring his soul here?"

"In our era, after the death in the Soviet Union, those charlatans and rascals could freely blame their misdeeds on it because the dead cannot speak... quite an interesting historical anecdote, isn’t it?" With that, Susu threw the soul to the ground.

Everyone present saw the soul’s orb begin to distort.

Malin extended his hand, and a blessing of positive energy pulled the pitiful soul back from the brink of distortion: "Fortunately, the dead can speak now."

With those words, from Malin’s center, a pitch-black void started to spread, and looking up from what once was the ceiling, the ancient starry sky from long ago shimmered. Malin gazed at the middle-aged man kneeling and holding his head before him, questioning him through a whisper of the soul.

· Look at me, wretched soul.

· Look at me, the final echo of a pitiful life, look at all who see you, look at your judge.

In Malin’s whispering voice, the man raised his head.

· Salutations, Your Highness, is there something you require?

· Do you recognize him?

Malin pointed at the neighboring remnant soul. In Malin’s sea of consciousness, the yellow-haired figure who died on the chair slumped over in the same manner, but completely distorted, it was trapped by the World Tree Sapling, able only to struggle but helpless.

· My love... what has happened, why, why does fate toy with us so!

At this moment, the middle-aged man stood, sorrowful, lamenting aloud,

· We were kindred spirits upon meeting, thirteen years ago at the Harvest Festival, the rosy-cheeked darling, my sweetheart, who could have hurt you so?

The middle-aged man approached the remnant soul, extending his hand to caress the twisted long face of the soul he wished to grasp.

"What is going on here?" The spectator Mr. Li looked perplexed.

"You don’t understand, this was Zhang Xianzhi, the former little darling of the New Hangzhou Theater, quite famous in opera." Mrs. Meng introduced her old friend.

Meanwhile, Malin took two pieces of sticky rice pastries from Susu’s snack bag with interest.

"Such a wild path for a tenor, really don’t know what he was thinking." Susu mumbled with a mouth full of pastry in perfect Thainan official language.

"As they say, everyone has their own ambitions, that must be the reasoning here." Malin remarked, noticing the man’s gaze shifting toward them.

· Ruler of fate, who killed my beloved, please tell me.

Malin furrowed his brows, tapped a little, erasing everything about opera from this poor man’s mind.

· Who did it.

This question was much more straightforward, you see, speaking plainly is just that simple.

"A Gray Fog Walker, do you know who that is?" Sage Qian asked.

· It must be him! Liu Minghai!

The moment he uttered the name, the man began to distort again. Malin intervened once more, stabilizing the soul while confirming that this name indeed posed a problem: "He distorts whenever that name is mentioned, it seems the triple-bounce luck might not solely be a luck issue."

"Yes, some transcendent abilities can change the angle of bullet ricochet upon contact, spiritual energy can too. Most street cops are lower-tier transcendents, not necessarily able to confirm these in a gunfight."

After this analysis, Malin handed the soul to an Immortal Master skilled in dealing with souls—the Immortal Master Tower finally sent someone.

Then, they began to confirm who Liu Minghai was.

Since this guy knows Liu Minghai, it proves that his friends should know this name to some extent, though it may still be a rather lengthy waiting process, so Malin turned around to ask Ails about the mailbox situation.

Ails immediately arrived via teleportal—he had changed into a Prairie Elf skin, this time looking like an adorably pink-haired young girl with tiny hearts in her eyes.

"Where did you get that skin from?"

"Of course, from Mark City, last time the legendary lord who hit me said the skin was captured from another world, considered an apology for last time." Ails said, patting her turquoise dress, matching gradient bag, lace stockings, and little shoes.

"I always feel like there’s something off with that skin of yours, but never mind, have you handled the mailbox issue?" Malin asked, looking at Ails’ skin.

"Of course, I handed it over to Sage Yu, just because you summoned me, so I came over." Ails responded, patting her chest.

Hmm, the hollow chest pat sounds should mean there’s no issue, right.

So Malin thought, noticing another squad of street cops returning with someone—probably the last person Mr. Chaimen remembered seeing when linking to the remnant soul.

This was a young human, appearing to have been beaten, and Sage Qian, being the main person in charge, approached: "How was it when you captured him?"

"Lost two old brothers." The old street cop who brought the young human said while taking out a crumpled cigarette pack from his pocket, pulling out a cigarette, and lighting it with a match: "Lord Sage, I brought the man here, I want to know, what makes this little brat worth keeping alive for?"

"We suspect he is related to the Chaos incident. Due to preservation protocol, I cannot disclose the specifics." Sage Qian replied.

It’s somewhat impersonal to say, but Sage Qian was not making a mistake.

Mr. Li seemed to develop a cigarette craving, turning to Malin for a smoke. As Malin was observing the street cops, he noticed Li’s large hand extended toward him, and Malin raised the cigarette pack while looking at the old smoker.

· They have a problem.

Mr. Li’s Psychic Whisper echoed in Malin’s ear.

Malin chuckled, oh, this old fellow may be aged, but his eyes surely aren’t mistaken.

After handing him the cigarette, Malin reached out with a lighter to light it for the old man.

Mrs. Meng then walked over to Susu for two pieces of pastry, exchanging a knowing smile with Malin simultaneously.

See, these are the true veterans of the underworld. Although Sage Qian did not notice the problem, Malin could only detect it through basic detection-type transcendent abilities, yet these two old folks discerned the issue with just their naked eyes. After requesting cigarettes and pastries, the two elders moved to either side of the room, almost sitting intentionally near tables filled with various bottles and jars.

Li even adjusted his waist slightly, and Malin knew he was readjusting the position of his holster.

Malin smiled, picked up a drink, and walked over to Sage Qian just as Sage Qian extended his hand: "Thank you, I’ll make a statement for the sacrificed street cops upon return, their sacrifices won’t be in vain."

"Thank you." The old street cop smiled somewhat awkwardly, also extending his hand.

Then, as the two clasped hands, Sage Qian yanked the old street cop into his arms with force.

Pulling the gun from his waist, he fired at another street cop who was drawing his gun.

Impressive, I didn’t expect you, Sage with the strong brows and big eyes, were also putting on an act.

Malin laughed while using Psychic Palm to slam another pretend street cop who had drawn his gun against the wall.

Mrs. Meng lifted several bottles and jars, smashing them over the head of the female pretend street cop, who toppled over after being struck hard.

Mr. Li’s approach was simpler, shooting down the remaining fake street cops.

Only then did the entire room full of detectives react.

Malin walked over to a fake street cop still struggling to get up, tearing his shirt to reveal a bizarre tattoo on his back.

Octagram, the Book of Wisdom, they’re with the Mimicking Bird.

"How did you discover us?!"

The old fake asked despairingly.

Sage Qian broke the old man’s left leg, then twisted his right hand before pushing him to the floor.

"You are fakes. The real street cops would never smoke in front of me because they know Sage Qian hates the smell of cigarettes, and they wouldn’t defy me. Only you would."