Both of them carried the distinct sll of river water, clearly indicating they had disembarked from a boat on the Temm River not long ago.
John Watson, the [Doctor], having just ordered a large amount of high-calorie food, was wolfing it down while complaining to [Sheriff] Sherlock,
"Dear Mr. Sherlock, can you please refrain from playing deduction gas in public in the future?
Especially when everyone on a boat is a murderer, and you're not even in your own jurisdiction, lacking the law's authority!
My Creator! The murder on the luxury yacht 'Eastern Express' on the Temm River... every passenger and crew mber was a conspiring murderer.
When you, the intruding sheriff, exposed them, they were imdiately ready to silence us by adding two more nas to the autopsy list.
Although I am a doctor, I never imagined myself lying on an autopsy table. That feeling was utterly terrible.
If we hadn't run into the City Guards' patrol boat, we wouldn't have made it back.
Moreover, ever since I t you, I feel like I haven't had a single day of peace. I've run around so much, even the hair on my legs is thinning!"
[Sheriff] Sherlock, seated opposite him, was eating no more gracefully. He gulped down his food, muttering softly between bites,
"Relax, old chap. I'm the man who's going to pioneer the [Detective] career in the Tribunal Sequence one day. I'm not so easy to kill.
Not only must one master the prerequisite knowledge, but receiving positive feedback from both criminals and the audience during public deductions is also an essential part of the ritual.
And the most important thing for a detective is a heart dedicated to fighting cri!
Even if I were to die, I'd die before you."
Byron overheard their conversation clearly and couldn't help but look up curiously at them.
Sheriffs aren't exactly a powerful combat profession. You aren't the world's foremost bodyguard, the kind who'd dare to say, 'I bet your gun isn't loaded,' yet you still presu to play the great detective? You two are truly brave!
Moreover, Byron noticed sothing unusual about Sheriff Sherlock.
It was an inherited title—[Nesis of Sin]!
Like [Fairy · Rigel] and [Child Guardian], it was an ancient title passed down through generations.
On the Old Continent, similar titles included:
[Earl of Huntingdon · Righteous Thief · Robin Hood], [Jack the Ripper], [Mountain Elder · Hassan Sabah], [Monster Hunter · Van Helsing]... and so on, totaling hundreds, perhaps even thousands.
The thods of inheritance varied.
For example, the [Fairy] title would randomly descend upon won of great natural beauty, bestowing upon them both blessings and curses.
The [Nesis of Sin] title operated on a similar principle.
When unattached, it would select an individual possessing a strong sense of justice, a photographic mory, deductive reasoning skills, and a calm, rational mind as its inheritor.
Positive effect: Justice has arrived! You will always arrive at the cri scene the mont it occurs, obtaining firsthand intelligence.
Negative effect: Death Has Co! In others' eyes, wherever you go, cris occur, making you a true embodint of the Death God!
This title's inheritance was exceptionally rapid. While other titles might pass through eight generations, this one could pass through eighty.
This was because past holders of the [Nesis of Sin] title were too easily overwheld and killed by an excess of evil.
It was sowhat similar to Byron's own [Historical Rectifier] entry, destined to be entangled in various whirlwinds.
Seeing this, Byron couldn't help but frown.
He felt that if he got too close to such a person, the whirlwinds of fate would likely produce so peculiar chemical reaction.
Just as he was about to ask his sister, who had eaten her fill, to make a strategic retreat, he suddenly heard John Watson, the [Doctor] at the adjacent table, softly remind his friend,
"By the way, why did you order such expensive pastries? We don't have nearly enough money for this."
Sherlock waved it off dismissively. "Eat first. Don't worry, just wait a little longer..."
Before he could finish, a scream pierced the air from the coffee shop's back door:
"Help! Soone's been killed—!!!"
This wasn't so colony where death was a common occurrence. This was the Royal Capital, renowned for its excellent public security, a place where even the Red and White Rose War had not reached.
The residents, unaccustod to such dramatic events, were thrown into a panic.
Only [Sheriff] Sherlock rose leisurely. He wiped his mouth, straightened his tie, and winked at his friend, "You see, although I'm rather unlucky and cases seem to follow wherever I go, once soone dies, collecting paynt becos secondary. It happens all the ti; you'll get used to it. Now, it's ti for the detective to step in and ensure justice is served."
With that, he strode briskly towards the coffee shop's back door.
Byron also halted, his [Divine Sight] sweeping over the alleyway behind the back door. He discovered the trouble was at the very building where the "Demon Monster party" was being held. Instantly, new text materialized on his Sailing Logbook: [Hidden: Death Stranding event under two-party disputes, historical impact 28]!
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