"Gulu."

"Gulu."

It bounced slightly and made a sound with vibrations, beating like a living heart. Although the sound sounded more like a restless stomach, Lyle knew that it was not hungry.

Lyle's talent changed, moving in the opposite direction of his expectations. The vine of fate left the scaffold he built and stretched towards the sky.

His talent is more like an individual.

Although forced orders can still control its actions, Lyle can detect the thought hiding in the corner, and it has a self.

The unfamiliar consciousness made Lyle a little alienated from it, even though it was his talent. He put the ball into the leather bag, tied the knot tightly, and threw it on the table. He also told Medusa and Putao to pay attention to any unusual movements. Lyle was lying on the ground.

on the bed.

"My master, it's been a long night, so you just put me on this cold table, looking at a leather bag? This is the first time we met, shouldn't you hold me in your hands and exchange feelings?" Medusa's upper body

Lift it high and look here.

"No, your length is only twenty centimeters, and I don't have the habit of sleeping with a piece of wood in my arms."

"What a classy gentleman."

"Thank you for the compliment, good night, Ms. Medusa."

The next day.

The white stick tip tapped on the stone floor of the main street. Lyle put on a neat Sheriff's uniform. The sunlight shone on the top of his hat, and a ray of warmth came from the top of his head.

The air was fresh and the climate was mild. Lyle was in a good mood and set out on the road for his first day back at work.

Halfway through the journey, his body twisted unnaturally.

I touched the smooth head of the staff and found that the dragon was not on it.

The fabric on my back was soaked and stuck together, making it very uncomfortable.

That's not the reason for sweat.

He tugged at the hem of his clothes at the back.

"Gulu."

Yes, the ball was brought too, and it transformed itself into a large, thin piece of cloth and stuck it to Lyle's back, and the mucus secreted wet the lining.

And Medusa was moving in the clothes, sliding from the left sleeve to the chest, and then to the right shoulder, as if taking revenge, Lyle had to endure the tickling touch.

"Can you be quiet, Medusa."

The thing entrenched in the abdomen swam up, followed the abdomen, chest and collarbone, and drilled a small head into Lyle's collar.

"I'm sorry, Master, the immature boy's body odor makes me feel a little itchy."

"Can't you just stay in your pocket, or go back to your cane."

"I'm getting to know you and getting used to your magic flow so that I can cast spells better in the future. You don't want to fail in casting, right? If you had put me on the bed last night, maybe this process would have been completed long ago, right?

Do you feel a little regretful in your heart?"

"I'm very glad for my decision last night. At least I got a night of peace."

"Stubbornness is not a good quality. Many people suffer because of it, and you are no exception."

Lyle limped to the security office.

Fortunately, Medusa still had some sense of control and stopped teasing her in front of acquaintances.

Mr. Jordan was at the front desk, his eyebrows knitted together. In front of him, two men were arguing. They came to the security department to report each other for breaking the law, and started a verbal spat.

Mr. Wilt is nowhere to be seen, which seems to be good news. Mr. Jordan's stinky face is much prettier than his fake smile. At least today, I can relax a little.

After passing through the front hall and arriving at the main living room, the noble gentlemen were not resting here that day. Maybe it was not their working hours yet. Lyle breathed a sigh of relief. At least he didn't have to perform a stiff hat-off ceremony to them.

There are a lot of people in the office, and Mr. Garrett's desk file never seems to diminish, signed, stamped, signed, stamped.

Occasionally, documents would make him sullen, and his twisted eyebrows seemed to crush his monocle.

"Good morning, Mr. Garrett."

"Good morning, Little Buller." He didn't even raise his head to look at himself, but he called himself correctly.

"You came here much earlier than I thought. Young people are good. Your body recovers really quickly."

It seems that Ralph really reported that lie.

"Just in time, your [Independent Studio] has a new task to give you, remember to write a report."

"Okay, sir." It has only been a few days, and there have been deaths again. It is indeed the Dark Middle Ages.

"Wait, Little Buller." Mr. Garrett stopped writing, and there was no more swishing sound. The eye without lenses narrowed tightly and scanned Lyle's body.

"Take this."

Mr. Garrett took out a gold certificate from the drawer. It had a shining golden frame but was as soft as cloth.

Lyle had just seen this thing.

"Indulgences?"

"If your injury isn't healed, don't hold on. Your posture is now deformed. Use this to take good care of yourself."

"Thank you, sir." Although my weirdness is not due to the so-called lack of hip tissue.

"I'm too lazy to wait for that bastard to come here and ask for this. I might as well just give it to you. Strangely enough, according to his habit, he should have come to me and asked for it. Nothing has happened yet."

Lyle smiled. Ralph knew his true situation, so naturally he would not be ashamed to ask for help. It seems that Garrett has helped the cheap uncle a lot.

"Thank you again."

"Thank you very much. Just write me a satisfactory report."

Lyle took off his hat, put it on his chest, and bowed slightly, although Mr. Garrett, who was busy again, didn't notice.

Lyle stepped through the iron gate behind the tarpaulin.

A haggard beggar, the rags on his body were covered with dust and filth, his skin was dark, and his body was thin. His fourth rib could be seen just by looking at him.

His mouth was wide open, food particles could be seen from the gaps between his teeth, and his eyeballs were white.

The body is completely preserved with no scars.

After looking at the file, I found that the beggar was given alms by a well-known squire. When giving food to him, he choked to death because he ate too quickly.

Looking at the physical condition, this inference is indeed reasonable.

If a person who has been hungry for a long time suddenly overeats, the body does not have the corresponding digestive capacity, and excessive intake will cause damage, especially to a life that is already in the wind.

It's not impossible. According to the past, this beggar would have been buried hastily. How could anyone entrust him to find out the real cause of death? It was probably because the squire felt that his reputation was being harmed and wanted to seek justice and defend himself.

In the past, if physical symptoms and food residues in the mouth were examined, the cause of death would probably have been determined.

But today, Lyle has a new approach.

He took out a dark purple five-petal nightshade flower from his belt.

I should also work like a real seancer.

Corpse resuscitation.

As if it had experienced defibrillation, the corpse's chest stood up high, then fell. It turned over, supported itself with its hands and feet, and slowly stood on its knees.

Because he has flesh and blood, his soul flame is not exposed, just like a normal person.

"You choked me to death. It's such an embarrassing way to die." This was the first sentence the corpse said.

Lyle nodded, "So, he choked to death and committed suicide?"

"No, it was attempted murder."

"Um?"

"Although I died of suffocation because food blocked my trachea. But if you dissect your stomach and analyze the composition of the food residue, you will find a little chronic poison."

"That sanctimonious man poisoned the food. Even if I didn't choke to death, after three or two days, the acid in the stomach bag would break down the outer protection, causing the poison to kill me. But at that time, death had nothing to do with him.

.”

"This may just be your guess."

"No, I heard it with my own ears, he said it himself, [Damn it, how could he die so early? The poison should not have taken effect yet.]"

"Hear it with your own ears? When?"

"Twelve minutes after my death, the beggars around me dispersed, leaving only him and me as a corpse."

"...You have to know that dead people cannot be witnesses."
Chapter completed!