NABC Page 134
Page 134
She is human and has gained the power of the [True Ancestor].
The ideas behind them are naturally different.
No matter how her power changes, her humanity still outweighs her divinity.
That's human nature.
Whether it was a premonition or not, Fujimaru Ritsuka had a feeling that if she did nothing and let the princess develop on her own, she might do something out of control.
It won't be me who defeats Goetia, it'll be you...
Remembering the princess's words, Fujimaru Ritsuka felt an increasing sense of urgency.
With Miss Sylvia's help, she entered the frame and lay peacefully in the metal coffin, preparing to become Schrödinger's true ancestor.
"Can I really defeat Goetia, Miss Sylvia?"
Fujimaru Ritsuka suddenly asked Sylvia a question.
"That's an opponent that even Earth itself admitted it couldn't beat."
Sylvia paused for a second.
She was a magician, a staff member. Originally, she had impure motives, wanting to gain experience and thus became involved in Chaldea's research.
But... her heart has already changed.
She looked into those beautiful red eyes.
"can."
“At least, I believe in you,” Sylvia said.
Her words were heartwarming, and Fujimaru Ritsuka closed her eyes, looking very peaceful.
"Really? Thank you so much."
The frame closed.
Sylvia shook her head: "We should be thanking you."
Chapter 109 Sajyou Aika?! A similar flower blooming here.
London.
Scotland Yard.
Scotland Yard is synonymous with the Metropolitan Police Service of London, the capital of the United Kingdom.
It originated in 1829, but was moved to another location in 1890... However, we will not focus on it here, as it is merely the location where the event took place.
"Cough cough... God, this damn fog!"
"I've been a detective for over twenty years, and this is the first time I've encountered something so unusual."
"I swear that even the eyes of God cannot see through the despair of this world."
"If there is a God."
The detective pulled his coat tighter, covered his mouth and nose with an eagle-beak filter—something he'd somehow acquired—commonly used by medieval alchemists, and hurried across Baker Street.
The fog in London was so thick it was like ink that couldn't be dissolved.
London has been getting stranger and stranger lately.
Scotland Yard was receiving a constant stream of telegrams from the outside world reporting that large monsters and puppet-like creatures were indiscriminately slaughtering people throughout London.
What a hell!
It should be noted that Scotland Yard's underground morgue, as well as the morgues of various hospitals and police stations, are already filled with corpses.
Some were poisoned.
Some were killed with a single blow.
Yes, they are not in the morgue at all.
disappeared.
The wounds on the victims' bodies were clearly not marks left by human weapons; the cuts were complete and perfect, like a masterpiece performed by a surgeon on an operating table.
The victims are mostly women, but there are also some men.
Most of them had lost their hearts.
It's as if the killer's goal was simply to steal the heart.
Lestrade could barely make out the flickering kerosene lamps in Scotland Yard through the fog, and a gust of wind blew by, making them look like will-o'-the-wisps.
The detective couldn't help but think of terrifying urban legends.
Jack the Ripper
The Ripper who murdered women.
No clues could be found.
He couldn't make sense of anything... This was beyond his comprehension as a human being.
They made it back to Scotland Yard with great difficulty.
The detectives did not hold Liu Qi guilty and could not relax their vigilance.
Even if he couldn't resolve this unknown crisis, he still had to record the information and transmit it to the outside world.
Someone will always find a way to resolve this crisis.
He thought so.
Back in his office chair, he rubbed his hands together, picked up his pen, and began to record the clues he had discovered while out and about the unknown time on the yellowed paper.
For example
—A strange minotaur knight or something hidden in the mist.
The oil lamp's flame burned calmly.
The yellowed paper suddenly fluttered like bird wings.
This unusual occurrence immediately caught the detective's attention—if he couldn't notice the anomaly around him, then his more than twenty years as a police officer would have been a complete waste.
There was no wind, yet it felt as if a cold, damp wind was blowing around us.
Lestrade felt a chill run down his spine.
If he had lived centuries ago, he would definitely have sought refuge in the church. Not long ago, London was relatively normal; although there was fog, it wasn't as deadly as it is now.
Even if there were a church, it would probably be unable to protect itself.
There should be no demons or monsters in an industrial society.
But what's scary is that demons and monsters are probably coming soon.
Lestrade's intuition told him so.
wow~~
The paper flew out, floated left and right in mid-air, and then slowly fell down like an autumn leaf.
The detective instinctively bent down to pick it up.
The floor was clean and tidy, but he remembered not having swept it. The floor, which should have resembled the wrinkled skin of an old woman, now reflected the image of a young girl.
A pair of eyes were staring at him.
Those eyes were cold, bright, and ruthless, reminiscent of a lake or even a witch from the Middle Ages.
It evokes images of the femme fatale Morgan.
In the legends passed down through generations in Britain, there seems to be a monstrous witch who orchestrated the destruction of Camelot and the disintegration of the Knights of the Round Table.
However, it only evokes the image of the femme fatale Morgan, nothing more.
Because this girl doesn't have any of the elements of a concubine from head to toe; instead, she looks like an 11 or 12-year-old girl, innocent and naive.
"What are you doing so late at night?"
"Detective?"
The little girl, wearing a sky-blue dress and sporting a sweet smile, had a melodious voice like that of a lark.
On her V-neck chest, there seemed to be black patterns, black patterns, like angels spreading their wings.
Detective Lestrade froze.
He quickly drew his pistol, adjusted his hat with his right hand, and looked at the petite girl with a sweet smile...
A sense of powerlessness and absurdity rose within the detective.
"Ugh, does it really make sense to point that at me?"
The girl chuckled.
It was like a flower blooming amidst a blood mist.
The flower was looking at the detective with a mocking gaze, its eyes devoid of any emotion, as if it were looking at a stone.
I don't understand.
No matter how the detective tried to connect the case with the girl in front of him, he couldn't understand it.
"Am I going to die?" The detective's gun was already pointed at the girl.
"Yes, Detective. It's a real shame."
"For some reason, I'm going to destroy Scotland Yard. So I'm very sorry, Detective, but you're not leaving this office today."
To speak of destruction so lightly, Lestrade gripped the paper tightly in his right hand, his pistol still pointed at the frail girl.
The other party didn't seem to be in a hurry to kill him.
This composed demeanor sent chills down the detective's spine.
A terrifying fairy, a shadow in the sunlight, a killing without intent.
"Before I die, I have a few questions I'd like to ask. Could you please answer them, Miss?"
"sure."
The girl said indifferently.
"Because I'm dead, I can reveal information?"
"not like this."
The fairy-like girl smiled and said, "Whether you send a telegram to the outside world or leave a letter, it doesn't matter to me."
"For me, there's no such thing as intelligence in this world."
It turned out to be the case.
Don't you care at all?
"Alright, first question."
After a sigh, the detective asked, "Did Jack the Ripper exist? And is he related to this London fog?"
Such a simple yet blatant question is generally not answered by prisoners.
"Yes, it exists. Detective, are these all the questions you want to ask?"
The girl still had that radiant smile on her face, a smile that made the detective tense up with fear, something beyond his comprehension.
What are your reasons for destroying Scotland Yard?
"There's no reason, it's just about seizing the right to use a servant. Destroying you will make my plan run much smoother."
"Just because of this?"
"That's why."
"One last question. Did you cause all of this? If not, then who was it?"
"That's two questions, Detective."
"This kind of thing is unimportant."
"Alright, I'll answer then... I'm actually a very kind person. Everything here was caused by M, P, and B, not me. I'm just here to use this environment to achieve my own goals, that's all."