"I see."
After Russell left, the girl turned to Old Moore and said, "I want you to describe your brother's work, family, and personality in detail."
Moore opened his mouth. He actually disliked this kind of treatment, which made him feel like a prisoner being interrogated... But he was indeed confused. If Hitzfeld was willing to help... She seemed like a good detective?
After thinking about it and looking at Ma Kai who was sleeping soundly next to him, he nodded in agreement.
"Wright is three years older than me, so we can barely be considered of the same generation," he said. "His personality is more...lively than mine. For example, I can live in that house for more than 10 or 20 years without going out, but he definitely can't. At most, he has to go out to play for a few days a week."
"How does he usually play?" Hitzfeld asked him. "Gambling or women?"
"..." Moore looked at the girl with a strange look in his eyes. He tried to hold it in for a long time before finally saying, "...I think it's both."
“He’s good at gambling.”
"Yes, very well! But how did you ..."
"It's just a random guess. I just think that if he wasn't a good gambler, he wouldn't go out so often."
Moore thought about it and realized that this was indeed the case. If his brother Wright was not good at gambling, he would definitely be hiding from his debts every day and would not go out to play every few days.
Also, if he wants to find girls to play with, he needs to have some money. Wright is not going to kill everyone in the casino just because he lost money, so he must bring money with him to have fun.
She has strong analytical skills and is good at piecing together clues from these details.
His opinion of the girl's abilities changed again, his attitude became more positive, and he began to introduce Wright's life in detail.
"We lived together since we were young. At that time, we were still in the old house... The old house is in the forest on the eastern outskirts of Kerge. It is very remote and the terrain is steep, so it can barely be considered a secluded place... It used to be the base camp of the Time Dragon Family, but it is now abandoned because of the prophecy. All the Time Dragons must disperse to look for the heir in the prophecy. This is our natural mission... Now if you go there, you will only see an abandoned house. It is basically empty, so it doesn't matter if I tell you where it is."
"Then there is the mountain behind the old house..."
"Talk about Light-Sally, not the old house," the girl interrupted him.
It was obvious that the influence of seclusion had not yet subsided. His words sounded illogical and he always spoke off the top of his head. Hitzfeld had to remind him several times to get back to the point, otherwise he would talk about it all day.
"Wright also came from there. As I said before, he has a cheerful personality and likes to play, but he is very opinionated... He likes to make his own decisions on everything. As long as he has made up his mind, his father can't influence him."
"Are you brothers?"
"Yes, we have the same parents."
"Is he born this way?"
"It's natural. It's been like this since I can remember."
“How can you be sure of your judgment?”
"When I was about 5 years old, he was almost 8 years old. He took me to steal cow dung. I asked him why he wanted to steal cow dung. He told me that cow dung is the most abundant of all animal feces and urine, and dung bombs made from cow dung are the most powerful."
"..." Hitzfeld's eyes were fixed, while Xia Yibing frowned and pouted.
But Moore was already excited. He stretched out his hand and gestured: "You know the dung bomb, right? It's a prank trick of inserting a gunpowder tube and setting it off... It's very common over there."
"Aren't you disgusting?" Hitzfeld felt his voice trembling.
"It's actually not that bad." Moore nodded with a smile, "Because it's basically made of feces from herbivores, it's not too dirty..."
This explanation was of no use. Hitzfeld, Xia Yibing, and Jelicesis, who had been listening nearby, all moved back a little.
They decided that they would never shake hands with Moore in their lifetime.
"Back to the previous point... I tried to dissuade him at the time. I thought that the pile of cow dung was too big... I knew he wanted to take revenge on the person who splashed mud on him a few days ago. I tried to persuade him to give up and at least choose a smaller piece of cow dung, but he didn't listen... In the end, he succeeded in his revenge."
"We were severely whipped on the palms with whips at that time." Moore had a smile on his face. "Another time, he saw a wolf when he went out. No one else saw it, but he insisted that there was one. He asked us to wake up the others and stay alert... We did as he said, but in the end we didn't see a wolf... But he still insisted that he saw one. Those suspicions and doubts could not shake him. He is such a stubborn person."
Although some of the examples are not quite right, it must be admitted that this description makes the portrait of Wright-Sally more vivid.
Hitzfeld asked for a few more details, then began to remind him about Wright's family and career.
"I don't know much," Moore said.
"As you can see, I seldom travel far. I have been here twice in total, both times when my father was still alive and we came together. I was probably in my early teens at that time, but Wright had already started his own business in Berwyn County..."
"What business?"
"Repair the soles of your shoes."
"what?"
"Normally, the soles of shoes sometimes fall off, don't they? Normally, you need to find someone to repair them, but that's very troublesome, so he invented a machine that can repair damaged shoes by just putting them on it and stepping on them a few times."
"Automatic shoe repair machine." Sixus interrupted, "I seem to have heard of it... Are you sure he invented it? You know, Sara also has a similar machine."
"Sure, he can't have copied someone else's idea."
"So his business is to make this automatic shoe repair machine?" Xia Yibing asked, "He opened a factory?"
"No." Moore shook his head. "He thinks that way of making money is too slow."
"Too slow?"
"His original words were probably like this..." Moore cleared his throat and began to imitate him in front of them: "'Listen carefully, Moore. If I dare to open a factory with something like this today, within a month, I will be surrounded by my enemies. After all, this thing doesn't have much technical content. We can just steal one and copy it in batches. We are here to make money, not to compete with anyone. I don't have time to waste my limited energy on this kind of struggle.'"
"That's what he said." He nodded. "Then he told me that he registered and authorized this thing - he got the local gangster county sheriff together and authorized local businessmen and wealthy people who were interested in it, and asked those people to open factories to manufacture this machine. The three groups of people sat in the back and divided the profits."
"...He is very smart." Xia Yibing licked her cracked lips.
Really, there aren't many people with this kind of mind.
Hitzfeld noticed the details: "So the local gangster sheriff knows he's the Time Dragon?"
Otherwise, why would a young nobody negotiate such terms with them?
Vision... There are still many people with vision in the world, but when faced with those who don't even follow the rules and the pure violence, they may not be able to protect their achievements.
"Maybe not..." Moore shook his head. "When my father brought him here and separated him, he arranged a minor noble status for him... And I have to correct a cognitive error of yours: At present, you may be one of the few people who know the surname of the Time Dragon family, and the surname Sally is actually very common in Talignan."
So maybe I couldn't figure out his true colors, and tried to use violence, but he used the power of the Time Dragon to neutralize it...
Hitzfeld thought about it and thought that this was probably the reason why the gangster county sheriff at the time had to cooperate with Wright.
The market for automatic shoe repair machines is huge.
Just by listening to the description, she knew that this thing could be used for more than just shoe repair. With a little improvement, it could be used as a sewing machine. The clothing business that was subsequently expanded into it would be a very profitable business.
There is no way the Necromancers and the Hot Springs Lord would let go of this cash cow. They would definitely find ways to expand their business, and Wright could follow behind and benefit from their success.
So he definitely has no shortage of money.
Hmm... From this perspective, she was really lucky to have guessed that he was a good gambler at the beginning, because with such richness, he was not afraid of not having money to pay off his debts.
And what did Moore say before? Wright would actually use most of his profits to help the poor?
She didn't know it was such a huge sum of money before, so she didn't feel anything when she heard this. But now she has to respect this man in awe - at least she can't do this.
"Has he married yet?" Sixus asked suddenly.
She was very curious about what kind of woman this unique man would choose.
"No." As expected, Moore shook his head.
"He had many women, but he didn't marry any of them... Of course, he didn't treat them badly. He gave them everything they wanted, but he didn't allow them to talk about marriage."
"Oh, by the way, he also has a quirk. He doesn't like others to sleep in the same bed with him - or even in the same room. He barely tolerated me when I was still young, but he didn't want to live with me after I was three years old. I think this quirk may be related to his decision not to marry."
"So from the beginning, only you and your father have set foot in his home - the house just now?" Hitzfeld asked with a frown.
She began to look uneasy, because since Wright-Sally was so special, so opinionated, and so concerned about his private space, why would he let servants receive possible guests?
At this moment, the cabin shook. Russell's voice came from outside: "It's me."
It didn't take long to interrogate them. After finding four or five groups of people and paying a few silver coins, he returned with a full load.
"Some rich people say he's a good guy... some say he's not in his right mind... Overall the reviews are good. I feel like they're a little afraid of him."
"The opinions of the poor vary greatly. Some say he is a messenger of God, while others say he is a miser..."
"Miser?" Sixus raised his voice.
"Yes, Scrooge."
"Do you know how much money this man gives to the poor every year?"
"I know, that's what those people who praised him said, but those who scolded him later were precisely because he didn't pay."
"What's the meaning……!?"
It was Old Moore who spoke. He came up to Russell in surprise and grabbed his shoulders: "Please say it again? What happened to him?"
"He doesn't pay anymore." Russell stared at him and repeated to him word for word, "He used to pay about 6000 Sera gold coins every year to help the poor, but now he doesn't pay anymore, not a penny."
Of course some people will resent him.
Hitzfeld half-closed his eyes.
They may have long been accustomed to receiving relief, and relief funds have become part of their future plans. Some people may have already planned what to do with the next sum of money, and the withdrawal of this goodwill will destroy all of this.
In the eyes of those people, this is tantamount to trampling on their dignity. It is like weaving beautiful dreams for them with one's own hands and then bursting them, making them realize again that they are still at the bottom of society.
"I think that's a problem of their own cognition," Russell said softly.
For those who are capable and motivated, even if they get the relief, they can easily rise one or two levels. Those who fall back to the bottom without the relief are useless and lazy hooligans in his eyes.
Is this consolation in his own style?
Hitzfeld looked at Moore, but didn't feel his expression improved at all.
His concern was something else: "Did you ask them when he stopped paying?"
Obviously, he had thought of that possibility as well.
"This year." Russell nodded. "In the middle of this year... less than two months from now..."
Moore shook him off and rushed out of the cabin.
"What are you going to do?" Sixus called from behind.
"Let him go." Hitzfeld stopped her.
"He's not going to jump into the river."
"Mr. Russell, go and look after him." The girl glanced at the man with glasses again, "Bring your weapons... The situation may not be too good."
Russell raised his eyebrows, tapped his chin, and chased after him, holding his waist.
After ordering Sixus to stay and guard Jerry and Mark, Hitzfeld and Xia Yibing also walked out of the cabin and saw old Moore standing on the bow holding a long pole, trying to approach the mansion again.
The bow of the shuttle boat was very narrow, less than one meter wide. This time he kept wedging the bow into the gap in the fence before stopping. He moved forward and pressed the bell before the boat stopped completely.
"Ding--"
The crisp ringing of bells accompanies the rippling water.
They all waited, but no one responded.
Moore looked back at them, clasped his hands together, and frowned.
Hitzfeld winked at Xia Yibing, and the woman walked straight forward, pulled out a hairpin from her forehead, and opened the door lock in two or three clicks.
Fortunately, the iron gate opened inwards, so the boat did not need to move. Anxious Moore paddled the boat to a stop at the gate.
There was a special staircase there, and he was the first to jump up. He rushed to the door in three steps and pressed the doorbell again.
Still no response.
He was completely out of patience and started banging and kicking the door while shouting Wright's name.
No response.
It was as if the servant's previous scolding was just an illusion.
A strong sense of crisis spread in their hearts. Russell pushed Moore away and kicked the door open with three powerful kicks. They were finally able to get a glimpse of the interior of the mansion.
Hitzfeld was standing at the back. She saw Russell and Old Moore at the front, and their bodies trembled.
What's inside?
She pushed aside the two people and squeezed in. When she saw the scene clearly, she couldn't help but hold her breath.
Eyes full of blood.
The first thing I see is the spacious living room. There is nothing wrong with the furnishings here: the coffee table, large table, sofa, chandelier... everything is normal.
What was abnormal was their surface, where countless densely packed filaments that looked like blood were hanging. It was like a person was stuffed into a meat grinder, crushed into pieces and then stuck together one by one. The whole scene was extremely horrifying.
"vomit--"
Moore vomited immediately.
