It took Thales a long while to recover from his discomfort and confusion.
"What is this?"
He turned to Morat, who was sitting calmly.
The Black Prophet smiled mysteriously.
"What do you think it is?"
Thales was silent for a few seconds.
"My father, when he sent me here, he said," the prince's voice was heavy and gloomy.
"Let me see my own mess."
'Mess.'
Thales was in a daze for a while.
Morat said faintly,
"Then you've seen it. At least, the liquor industry in the capital will be in a state of panic and depression for a while."
Thales clenched his fists.
"Damn the prince.
"Everything he does … has a super, huge, huge impact, okay?"
The voice of the wine merchant, Dagori, still seemed to echo in his ears.
"But I didn't do anything," Thales muttered.
The Black Prophet's sneer reached his ears.
"At your level, not doing anything is also a form of attitude."
"Whether you mean it or not."
Thales frowned hard.
"Drink a little. A few sips is good."
Princess Elise's words to him on the day of the banquet rang in his ears.
"I bet that by tomorrow, you'll feel like everyone is looking at you."
'Everyone is looking at you …'
Thales took a deep breath and exhaled painfully through his teeth.
"They shouldn't … interpret it that way.
"But they did."
Morat's voice seemed to come from another room, but it was no less grim.
"And you left your home for the past six years, went to the far north as a hostage, and was placed under house arrest within the high walls?"
The demonic flesh on the Black Prophet's knees surged.
"With all due respect, that's your luck."
'My luck.'
Thales' expression was gloomy.
As his thoughts flowed, the interrogation room welcomed a new guest.
"Name."
Raphael picked up his pen, turned to a new page of the document, and looked coldly at the stout, thick-limbed old man opposite him, whose face was full of anxiety.
The newcomer was treated much better than Dagori's. Although he was also brought in with his head covered, the old man was not shackled and could move freely on the chair.
"Gibbon, I'm Gibbon, sir."
In stark contrast to the arrogant wine merchant, the old man on the chair was obedient and obedient. There was even a hint of flattery in his tone.
"Gibbon Filson. Everyone calls me Old Gibbon or — Old Bull."
Raphael pursed his lips.
"Now, Gibbon Filson, do you know why you are here?"
Gibbon forced a smile.
"To be honest, I don't really know. May I ask who you are …"
"Police station." Raphael didn't even raise his head.
Compared to the previous interrogation with the wine merchant, the Barren Bone man's attitude this time was cold and distant.
The old man was stunned for a second.
"Impossible." Old Jilburn was all smiles as he shook his finger at Raphael.
"I have a relative who works at the police station. I know their procedures. It's definitely not like this!"
The Barren Bone man raised his head expressionlessly.
"But …"
The old man observed his surroundings. His eyes lit up as he thought of something. He was excited and curious.
"I know, this way of doing things." Old Jilburn had a mysterious and slightly smug look on his face. He leaned forward to the edge of the table, close to Raphael.
"You are the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department!
"Am I right?"
Raphael's expression changed slightly as he looked at the old man who was winking at him.
"I've experienced it. A long time ago, when there was that serial blood-sucking murders in the capital." Old Jilburn nodded with a sinister smile, obviously eager to show off.
"The famous Time Limit Police Officer fought with the people from the Secret Intelligence Department in my shop …"
"Bang."
Raphael tapped the table and interrupted Gibbon.
"That's right.
"You're absolutely right."
The Barren Bone man's gaze was profound and mysterious. He approached Old Jilburn and said softly in a tone as if he was telling a ghost story.
"We are the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department.
"We work for the Black Prophet."
In that second, the old man's smile froze on his face.
On the other side of the glass, Thales frowned and turned to Morat. But the old man in the wheelchair was unperturbed.
"What?"
Old Jilburn blinked in disbelief as he looked at Raphael's unfriendly gaze. He looked around the interrogation room again.
"It's, it's really the Secret Intelligence Department? The Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department? "
Old Jilburn's gaze fell on the wet bloodstain on the table. He thought of something and shuddered.
"You, you're not lying to me?"
Raphael snorted in disdain.
The Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department.
The Black Prophet.
The Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department who had a target of killing ten people every day. The Black Prophet who bathed in the blood of children every night …
Jilburn first smiled uneasily as he thought of all kinds of mysterious legends. Then, he huddled in his chair.
His gaze was fixed on a small spot on the edge of the table. He did not even dare to breathe loudly.
'First of all, I'm not a child anymore. The Black Prophet won't like it.
'Then, I hope I'm the eleventh person who came here today?'
Thinking of this, Jilburn wanted to cry but had no tears.
"So, Old Jilburn, what do you do?
"What … do I do?"
Jilburn repeated blankly at first. When he came back to his senses, he cleared his throat fiercely and began to tremble visibly.
"I, I run a blacksmith shop in Twilight District. I've been doing it for many years. Smithing, smithing, smithing."
"Smithing?"
Raphael sneered a few times. The old blacksmith trembled back and forth with the rhythm of his sneer.
"I heard that you received a big deal this morning?"
'A big deal?'
Old Jilburn's face paled and he quickly composed himself.
"Yes, yes, yes, a business deal. It's not a big deal, just a small deal …" Old Jilburn put on a long face and tried to curry favor.
"Ahem, it's not exactly a small deal. Hehe, it's considered medium, medium, medium."
Raphael grunted and raised his pen without looking up. "You …"
"I swear!"
Old Jilburn's expression changed and he suddenly raised his voice.
"I've never forged prohibited weapons and equipment!"
Raphael was startled by the old blacksmith's sudden outburst.
"Military swords, military axes, military hammers, battle helmets, battle armors, battle stirrups, battle shields, crossbow parts, catapult parts, Mystic Gun stocks, Crystal Drop alloys, kitchen knives longer than half a foot, steel spear tips, killing arrowheads, I have all of these nuisances —"
Old Jilburn's mouth rattled without pause. He paused at the last sentence.
"— never forged!"
He stared at Old Jilburn in denial.
Raphael, who was ready to torture Old Jilburn, put down his pen and was silent for a while as he watched the nervous and trembling Old Jilburn.
"So, you're quite familiar with … prohibited items?"
Old Jilburn trembled again.
He realized something and had a bad feeling about it. He desperately squeezed out a smile.
"Hehe, I'm just concerned about the law … Well, obeying the law."
Raphael looked at the document and raised his pen again.
"You …"
Old Jilburn quivered.
"I definitely didn't sell it to them!"
"Absolutely not!"
Raphael, who was startled again, put down his pen helplessly.
"Them?"
Jilburn's expression froze.
He looked away, rubbed his chin awkwardly, and muttered in a low voice.
"It's, it's, it's them, it's them …"
Raphael got the hang of it. He put down his pen and closed the document. He leaned back and snorted coldly.
The Barren Bone man's action frightened the blacksmith so much that he instinctively trembled and danced.
"But they're nobles!"
"Even if they don't have a noble title, they're at least second-generation hedonistic sons of officials. It should be legal …"
Raphael exhaled, crossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes.
Jilburn was startled again, and quickly changed his words.
"Even if it's illegal, they have a way to avoid it! I had no choice but to sell it to them … "
Raphael tilted his head and looked at the other man.
"You …"
Jilburn's expression changed again and he said loudly,
"I only took the deposit!"
He raised his hand and shouted,
"I haven't delivered the goods, made the proofs, drawn the drawings, and even the materials!"
Jilburn explained nervously, fumbling to take out an expensive piece of paper from his pocket.
"Look, all the orders from those customers are here! All of them! "
Raphael looked at the trembling order form in the old blacksmith's hand in bewilderment.
He didn't seem to … have he asked anything?
"Alright." The Barren Bone man took the order with mixed feelings. No one knew the helplessness in his heart.
"You're much easier to talk to than the last one."
Maybe I should go back and check this old man's background.
See if he's … a distant relative of the Karabeyan family?
After handing over the order form, Jilburn put on an aggrieved expression of "I've done meritorious service for the kingdom".
He asked cautiously, "This shouldn't be illegal, right?"
"Even if it is, can this be considered as … surrendering?"
Raphael looked at the order form and snorted casually, scaring Old Jilburn once again.
"Let's see …"
Raphael read aloud so that the person on the other side of the glass could hear.
"XXX hereby orders a longsword with the following requirements: One look and you'll know it's used by nobles. The material must be good, the color must be awesome, the luster must be shiny, and it must be easy to maintain. The heavier it looks, the better, but in fact, the lighter, the better. It's best to make it slightly old and leave some traces, so that people know it's often wielded in battle …"
On the other side of the glass, Thales also frowned.
Under Jilburn's nervous and fawning gaze, the Barren Bone man continued to read the first line of the order form:
"The grip must be comfortable, the sound of the wind when swung, the attack must be effortless, the defense must be effortless, the style and design must show heroic spirit and chivalry, elegance and firmness, fashion and classical, gorgeous and simple, simple and profound. Most importantly, it must look handsome when carried, so that it's convenient for the painter to paint from all angles …"
Raphael looked up in confusion.
'What's this?
'An invincible holy sword among knights that slays gods and demons?'
"Well, um …" The old blacksmith rubbed his hands in embarrassment and lowered his head shyly.
"A, Party A."
With a strange expression, Raphael did not continue to read the other items on the list.
"Then do you know what they're going to do with the things on these orders?"
Old Jilburn rubbed his fat belly.
"Hehe, you know, these customers are nobles, of course I don't —"
"Hmm?" Raphael made a nasal sound contemptuously.
"— But I happened to hear it!" Old Jilburn's expression turned serious and he corrected himself in time.
Raphael glanced at him sideways.
"They, these noblemen come one after another to order weapons. Most of them are going to …"
Old Jilburn paused and smiled obsequiously.
"Duel."
Despite having expected it, Thales still tensed up.
Duel.
Raphael pondered and nodded.
"Do you know why?"
Speaking of this, Old Jilburn was enraptured.
"What else can it be? Of course, it's because the Duke of Star Lake solved the case like a god last night, and he's strong and agile. He defeated the kidnappers in an earth-shattering duel, and the news spread throughout the capital. So now the noblemen are all …"
At that moment, Thales felt a buzz in his ears.
Duel.
But …
Didn't he make it very clear that he wanted to eliminate the impact? "Since we're going to enjoy its convenience once and for all, we have to bear its price once and for all."
But why …
Why would there still be people, people …
At that moment, Thales did not dare to look at the Black Prophet's reaction.
He forced himself to turn his attention back to the interrogation room.
"There was a pair of noble brothers who said they wanted to duel with father because he snatched their sweetheart at a banquet, regardless of seniority … Oh my, look at this …"
Old Jilburn's eyes shone as he recounted the gossip.
"They even ordered two weapons and specified that the material and style must be exactly the same to show fairness, because they were going to duel with each other after killing father! Hehe, then I said, what about father's sword? So they ordered a third one! Hehehe, don't you think that's silly … "
Raphael looked up.
The blacksmith choked on his words.
"Listen carefully."
"There's a shortage of materials, the furnace is cold, the apprentices are on strike," Raphael's voice was flat.
"Or you fell in love with a quiet, graceful, coquettish little widow in the countryside, and planned to sell the shop, quit, and go back to marry her …"
"Huh? Quiet, graceful, coquettish and coquettish? "Old Jilburn was confused.
"You know," Raphael paused, his expression unchanged.
"Party A."
The Barren Bone man coughed.
"But I don't care what reason you use." Raphael coldly handed the order back to Old Jilburn.
"Refund the deposit and cancel this batch of orders."
The old blacksmith was slightly startled.
"Cancel? This, this is such a big order … "
Raphael ignored him and took out a document and pushed it in front of Jilburn.
"If there's no problem, take a look at this confidentiality agreement, sign it, and you can go."
Old Jilburn looked at the agreement and rubbed the order in his hand reluctantly.
"Well, I don't have any good reason to cancel the order in such a short time …"
Bang!
Raphael suddenly moved. He grabbed Jilburn's hand, his gaze as sharp as a sword.
"Then put on a bandage for two months and say your arm is broken."
Jilburn was scared silly and allowed the Barren Bone man to hold his wrist.
"Go to the Department of Finance and show them the seal on this agreement," Raphael said calmly.
"Someone will pay for the breach of contract and the bandage."
Old Jilburn felt wronged.
"But, it's no use." He tried to argue.
"There's more than one blacksmith in the capital — although I'm indeed the best — but I'm alone. Those foppish brats will definitely go to other shops. Why don't I make a few shoddy and unkillable … Ah ah ah, be gentle!"
Amid Old Jilburn's screams, Raphael tightened his grip on his wrist and threatened.
"So, you want us to pay for the medical expenses as well?"
Old Jilburn choked out a few sobs and put on a smile that was uglier than crying. He picked up the pen and signed obediently, expressing his firm support for the decision of the Kingdom's Secret Intelligence Department.
"Very well."
Raphael released the blacksmith who was gasping for breath.
"Hurry up, we still have to rush to deliver the agreement to the others — or pay for their medical expenses."
The Barren Bone man said coldly.
Old Jilburn, who was rubbing his wrist and crying, immediately perked up.
"That, don't forget Karachi's Blacksmith Shop on South Street. By the way, that old cunning bastard is terrible. For decades, he's forged contraband for scum like the Blood Bottle Gang and the Brotherhood more than once. He even lied to everyone that it was produced by my shop. You mustn't believe him …"
Raphael shot another glare at Old Jilburn, forcing him to swallow his words.
The old blacksmith could only pout and try hard to sign page after page.
"Okay, I understand. You have a heavy responsibility to suppress the unhealthy atmosphere of duels and maintain the legal system and stability of the kingdom. I get it, I get it …"
"But these things can be solved as long as you arrest the duelists … Why make things difficult for us little …"
"You see, this is the problem." Raphael supervised him to finish signing the agreement and looked at the one-way glass casually.
"If the kingdom explicitly prohibits it, their dissatisfaction and resentment will move upward."
Raphael looked at the old blacksmith.
"But if a supplier like you cancels for some reason …"
He narrowed his eyes and approached Old Jilburn.
"Do you have a problem with that?"
Old Jilburn had a tacit understanding and shook his head faster than the bellows in his house.
"No, no …"
The old blacksmith finished signing the agreement and handed it to Raphael obsequiously.
Raphael scanned the signature on it, closed it, lit a candle and covered it with wax.
"Very well, then as a reward for your cooperation …
"In the next few months, there will be a large demand for equipment for the regular army of the royal family. They will even have to recruit blacksmiths to forge it directly. There will be a large number of new orders."
Jilburn's eyes lit up in surprise.
"But only for the army and the person who holds this agreement."
Raphael narrowed his eyes and held up the sealed agreement.
"Do you understand?"
On the other side of the one-way glass, Thales watched in silence as the ecstatic Old Jilburn was put on a hood and taken out of the interrogation room.
"I'm sorry." Morat, who was in a wheelchair, picked up a cup of tea and chuckled.
"Raphael rarely deals with these small matters at the grassroots level. He's not very skilled.
"But don't worry, we will have someone talk to the craftsman later and follow up on his' mental health 'regularly to ensure that he won't resent you or even slander you.
"Or … there will be news of orders for specialized weapons for duels."
Looking at the Black Prophet's meaningful smile, Thales felt increasingly uncomfortable.
"I thought that the nobles of Constellation would despise Eckstedt's customs."
The prince stared at a stain on the glass and said with difficulty.
Morat put down his teacup.
"Duels have always been a martial ethos that originated from the Empire. In the primitive times, it carried the spirit of chivalry and filled in where justice could not reach."
The old man in the wheelchair was unperturbed, as if he was an outsider.
"Do you know how many centuries, how much blood, how many tragedies, and how many lives our ancestors paid, from the Imperium to the Kingdom, in order to get rid of the outmoded customs that gradually fell behind with the development of time and disregarded justice and tore apart the internal structure?"
His words were like a blade, cutting into Thales' heart over and over again.
"But now, what people see is only the deeds of the North Star, and they are scrambling to follow him.
"Especially the story of how you used your wisdom to avoid being killed in Eckstedt in the name of a duel.
"Plus your supreme demeanor last night, which won the hearts of countless boys and girls …"
The Black Prophet shook his head and did not continue.
But that was enough.
Thales was expressionless.
Duel.
That was what he brought to the Constellatiates?
Saving Doyle and Anker, but ultimately causing the death of … even more people?
"No matter what, you always want to find a way for everyone to be happy, a perfect choice that meets the highest expectations in your heart."
King Kessel's words reverberated in his ears.
"It's best to be uneventful and harmless."
"Avoid the ugliness and sacrifice that you don't want to face the most."
Thales raised his left hand with difficulty and looked at the scar on his palm.
"But doesn't the damned fate give you a damned response every time?"
Just as Thales' thoughts were heavy and his heart was in turmoil, the interrogation room welcomed a third guest.
This time, it was a noble who entered the interrogation room. His clothes were low-key but classic, and his posture was relaxed and arrogant.
He sat steadily on the chair. Similarly, he was not shackled. His performance was steady and his bearing was extraordinary.
As if he was the interrogator.
"I know who you are."
Raphael also changed his way of asking questions. His words were concise and went straight to the point.
"And I believe that you also know who we are."
The noble across the table slowly raised his eyes.
He did not look around like Old Jilburn, nor did he put on a fierce front like Dagori.
"Of course.
"You are the Darkness of Stars."
The noble said slowly.
"But what I don't know is, without the king's warrant, does the Secret Intelligence Department still have the power to secretly interrogate the kingdom's nobles?"
His gaze was fixed on Raphael, unbearably sharp.
Raphael smiled.
"Of course not, so this is just an interrogation."
The Barren Bone man did not ask for his name, so Thales had no way of knowing.
"I see," the noble sneered and made a sarcastic remark.
"It seems that your interrogation invitation is a sack and rope?"
But the Barren Bone man, who was eloquent and had even sparred with Thales verbally, did not dwell too much on words.
Obviously, judging from the previous two interrogators, Raphael was adept at dealing with different targets in different ways, and had achieved many successes.
"Two weeks ago, you came to Eternal Star City from Blade Edge Hill."
Raphael flipped through the records, his gaze also becoming sharp.
"And a week ago, you secretly ordered a weapon from a blacksmith named Karachi on South Street in Twilight District?"
'A noble from Blade Edge Hill,' Thales thought silently.
The noble's gaze froze and he was silent for a while.
Raphael did not rush him.
The atmosphere in the interrogation room became very oppressive.
Finally, the noble snorted.
"Even a civilian has the right to carry a weapon for self-defense when traveling.
"And I'm a noble of the kingdom with the right to carry an armed force. Did I break the law by carrying a sword for self-defense?"
Raphael smiled kindly.
"Of course not.
"But either you are a supreme class elite, or your enemy is," Raphael said with a click of his tongue.
"Otherwise, you wouldn't need to order a total of … twenty longswords, right?"
The noble from Blade Edge Hill's gaze turned cold.
"If you want to accuse me of treason," he said flatly, "these weapons are not enough evidence in Eternal Star City."
Thales, who was listening to the interrogation, had a hunch that this was not an easy person to deal with.
"I know." But Raphael sounded relaxed.
"So what do you want to do with them?
Or should I say, what do 'you' want? "
The noble tightened the corners of his mouth and stared intently at Raphael.
He seemed to be struggling with his thoughts. After a while, he said,
"As a member of the Secret Intelligence Department, why ask when you already know the answer?"
Raphael narrowed his eyes and smiled.
"But I want to hear it from you."
The noble from Blade Edge Hill snorted angrily.
He then turned to the one-way glass and looked straight at Thales.
"Who's behind the glass?"
Thales was startled.
But Morat, who was beside him, was as steady as ever and not surprised at all.
'It seems that this noble is quite knowledgeable.'
Having his trick seen through, Raphael did not panic.
"No matter who it is, isn't it exactly what you want, to be seen and heard by more people?"
The noble frowned slightly.
Raphael beamed and gestured for him to go ahead.
A few seconds later, the noble shifted his gaze away from Thales.
"We, some nobles of Blade Edge Hill, for various reasons, have lost their land, power, or position. We want to jointly …"
The noble paused for a moment and found a passable word.
"Appeal."
Raphael nodded.
"Where to appeal?"
The noble's expression was cold as he spat out a place.
"Mindis Hall."
Thales' eyelids twitched.
'Go to Mindis Hall … to appeal?
'No.'
He thought of Anker at the banquet, and his mood plummeted again.
"How many people?" Raphael asked casually.
"Thirteen," the noble answered without hesitation.
"Barons, lords, noble knights, and many others are rushing to join us.
"All for the sake of justice."
'Justice.'
The weight of the word hammered heavily in Thales' heart.
"So, at least thirteen nobles and their attendants and servants will be armed to the teeth and jointly appeal to the Duke of Star Lake."
Raphael sighed, feeling rather helpless.
"At that time, if some people get emotional and cause trouble, even the police officers, Jadestar Private Army, and the royal guards won't be able to suppress the matter so easily, right?"
The noble glanced at him.
"Just to make our stance clear, we have no intention of harming anyone."
Raphael chuckled and asked further.
"Then why Mindis Hall and not Renaissance Palace?"
The noble stared at him with an unfriendly expression.
"You want to imitate that idiot from last night," Raphael said what he was thinking, "Find the Duke of Star Lake's tutelage, take advantage of his recent return and lack of worldly experience, and bring your swords to the meeting.
"Make a big scene."
'Big scene.'
Thales' gaze was unfocused.
"If you don't kill, no one will listen … If you don't shock the world, there is no way out … If you don't wallow in degeneration, you will suffer.
"Please tell me, Your Highness … What kind of logic is this?"
That night, Anker's indignant gaze when he held a hostage and barged into the banquet to force an abdication reappeared in his mind.
"We're not imitating," the noble seemed offended, "We're determined to be earlier and smarter than that idiot from Western Desert."
Raphael clicked his tongue.
"But you must have been encouraged by the precedent, especially since that idiot survived.
"So you've made up your mind to knock on Prince Thales' door and force him to see a problem that only His Majesty can solve?"
Encouraged by the precedent …
A problem that only His Majesty can solve.
Thales subconsciously clenched his fists, but then he remembered that the Black Prophet was still watching from the side, so he forced himself to loosen his fingers.
"He's also a Jadestar."
The noble leaned against the back of his chair, his speech was neither fast nor slow, and his words were clear.
"He held the Northland hostage, went on expeditions to the desert, and was even revered by many noble families, including the Four-Eyed Skull.
"Last night, he displayed wisdom and skill, courage and drive, as well as the ambition to reform the kingdom.
"He also displayed benevolence and loyalty, magnanimity and generosity, and would not turn a blind eye to us."
Raphael nodded as he listened, and said sarcastically,
"And this is your repayment to the great philanthropist, Prince Thales, as a group of loyal subjects and good aides.
"Carrying twenty swords and 'visiting' Mindis Hall as if to force an abdication?"
The noble of Blade Edge Hill suddenly looked up!
"He's our future king."
His voice was like steel, and each word weighed a ton, making it difficult for Thales to breathe.
"He can afford it."
Raphael was silent for a while, and did not look at the one-way glass.
"But if he doesn't want to, and it's not convenient for him to meddle in your messy affairs that involve the interests of many parties and can't be resolved?
"Then he's not fit to be king," the noble said decisively.
Raphael snorted coldly.
"You really have the guts to say that."
The noble laughed, his laughter chilling.
"Have you been to Blade Edge Hill, young man?"
He looked at Raphael in an aggressive and unflinching manner.
"If you've never been, then shut up.
"And if you've been, then you'll know that there's nothing we don't dare to say."
Raphael was silent for a while.
Thales could feel that the Barren Bone man was at a disadvantage.
A few seconds later, Raphael snorted softly.
"You seem to be a smart man, sir." His words were polite, but the meaning behind his words was clear.
"And you're already sitting here. Do you know what to do?"
The noble turned away, snorted softly, and pondered for a while.
But in the end, he still turned back and said in a low voice,
"Of course.
I'll go back and tell them to cancel this appeal and protest. "
Raphael's eyes lit up.
"Very well." The Barren Bone man closed the document happily.
"If everyone was as reasonable as you, I wouldn't have to collect overtime pay every day."
He stood up, ready to end the interrogation — or questioning.
But the noble called him back.
"You may have won today, young man."
The noble of Blade Edge Hill raised his head and looked straight at Raphael.
"You stopped us."
But his words made Thales extremely uneasy.
"But as long as the root of the problem is not solved, and the chronic disease of the kingdom is not cured, there will be more people like us."
'More people like us …'
Thales felt like he was in a trance.
"Then I don't mind seeing you a few more times," Raphael did not back down, "Whether it's here or in the courtroom, or …"
"In a coffin?"
The noble laughed out loud, but his laughter immediately turned into a warning.
"Secret Intelligence Department, do you think this is the solution?"
He stared coldly at Raphael.
"We haven't been forced into a corner yet. We have families and businesses to worry about. For the sake of the bigger picture and our livelihood, we can swallow our anger when we encounter injustice …
"But what if there's another Anker Byrael?
"What about the next person who presents himself to Prince Thales just for these questions?"
The next Anker Byrael.
Thales closed his eyes.
The noble from Blade Edge Hill shook his head disdainfully.
"Just you wait. What you did today won't solve your problem once and for all.
"Neither can the Black Prophet."
His eyes focused and his tone was firm.
"Only one person can."
Although he was not in the main interrogation room, Thales, who was listening, felt like he was about to suffocate.
Raphael forced a smile.
"Then I'll make sure he knows."
"Yes." The noble looked at him with a profound look in his eyes.
"You better be."
The noble stood up and allowed the two burly men to put a hood over his head without any resistance.
The atmosphere in the interrogation room was finally less oppressive.
"Take care, my lord. We shall meet again!"
Raphael sent the noble from Blade Edge Hill away with a smile. Finally, he exhaled and said in a voice only he could hear,
"I hope not."
On the other side of the glass, Thales broke away from his complicated and subtle feelings.
"He's right, Lord Hansen," he forced himself to speak, "Even if I didn't stand up last night and respond to Anker Byrael directly."
The Black Prophet looked at him with interest.
"One day, something like this will still happen.
"My identity will definitely attract this kind of accident again."
Thales gritted his teeth.
"This has nothing to do with my actions last night …"
Morat took a deep breath and endured another unusual movement of the vines on his knees.
"Perhaps you're right, and of course, you can convince yourself that, so that your actions last night seem justified and justified." The Black Prophet closed his eyes. If he did not look at his lower body, he would look like an ordinary old man resting with his eyes closed.
"But you know, this is not what I want you to see."
Thales looked up abruptly!
"Raphael!"
He spoke loudly. His voice traveled to the other end of the interrogation room.
Raphael calmly turned around and bowed to the unseen nobleman through the one-way glass.
"How much more?"
Thales' breathing was erratic. He clenched his fists, gritted his teeth, and raised his voice.
"Cases like this that are related to my behavior last night, as well as the things that have happened since my return …"
"How much more?"
Raphael did not answer immediately. He remained silent and bowed again to the mirror.
Until Thales realized that he was waiting for the Chief of Intelligence's permission.
But the Black Prophet beside him did not say a word.
Raphael.
He would not listen to the prince's orders.
An inexplicable anger suddenly flared up.
It flared up Thales' already inexplicably depressed heart.
It even triggered the Sin of Hell's River — this beast was scratching at his blood vessels again.
This made him feel as if he had immense strength and boundless anger, but nowhere to vent it. He could only suppress it.
"Raphael." The Duke of Star Lake tried his best to ignore his terrible state.
"Answer. I. I."
A few seconds later, perhaps sensing the duke's anger, or perhaps understanding the meaning of Morat's silence, Raphael spoke faintly.
"Quite a lot.
"Just what the 'butts' found today, there are four more sects."
'Butts.
The prince's butts. '
Thales felt as if his fists were about to explode.
But Raphael's words continued.
"For example, the number of nobles applying for the position of police officer in the capital may increase significantly, because the first person you received, Mr. Karabeyan, was a police officer, and the female officer taking care of your daily life was also a police officer …
"Another example, the number of members of the Glass Chamber of Commerce will increase dramatically, and there will be a large influx of funds. The changes in the market are beyond our expectations. Even if Baron Quentin tries to explain that the glass smashing incident last night was not the latest rule of the royal family, that will be a headache for Lord Kirkirk Mann and Viscount Kenney …
"Another example, for the banquets held in the capital recently, no matter which family it is, security will be at the highest level, because your actions last night objectively encouraged everyone to bring weapons to the banquet. Take revenge if there is a grudge, and take revenge if there is a grudge. Perhaps you might even get a response and sympathy …"
With every word Raphael said, Thales' breathing became more and more difficult.
"And this morning."
Raphael's words were steady and flat, even with his usual ease and ease. But for some reason, at this moment, it sounded so piercing to Thales.
"There was a new murder case in the suburbs of Eternal Star City."
'Murder.'
Thales' nerves jumped.
"According to the preliminary investigation by the police station, the deceased is an agricultural tool merchant, and the murderer is a farmer working in the fields. He confessed to the crime, and it should be an impulsive crime."
Thales swallowed the discomfort in his body and spoke with difficulty.
"Why?"
Raphael hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the right words.
Then, the Black Prophet coughed unhurriedly.
Raphael sighed slightly.
"An eyewitness said that the agricultural tool merchant, who is also the deceased, had a conversation with the murderer before the crime.
"He changed his mind at the last minute, and wanted to sell the lettuce seeds that the two of them had previously agreed on …
"Increase the price by twenty times."
Thales was stunned.
Lettuce.
Increase the price.
No.
No …
In an instant, an inexplicable sense of loss and confusion took over his body and mind.
"It is said that the farmer was poor and struggling to make ends meet for his family. So, in his agitation, a conflict broke out, and the other party died from his injuries …"
Raphael's voice sounded like it came from the bottom of the water. It was erratic, but it was real.
"And according to the eyewitness, the reason the deceased raised the price at the last minute was …
"The prince loves it."
As soon as he finished speaking, Thales' figure swayed!
"The prince loves it."
In that second, all his anger and indignation seemed to realize the absurdity of his existence, and disappeared from his senses.
"The prince loves it."
Even Raphael, the Black Prophet, the rustling of the black-veined vines, and the entire interrogation room disappeared together.
All that was left was emptiness, confusion, and sorrow.
And himself.
"The prince loves it."
Thales closed his eyes in a daze, leaned against the wall behind him, and slowly leaned back.
But at that moment, the teenager felt that what he was leaning against was not a wall …
But a bottomless, endless, and never-ending abyss.
"The prince loves it."
Dark. Depressing.
Cold. Dead silence.
Suffocating.
"The prince loves it."
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