Chapter 50 - Chapter 50: Chapter 49 Mr. Humor (2/2)

His combat ability was weak, his life experience shallow, and he had psychological defects, aspects in which he could not compare to his father Lucius.

He was aware of these things.

So, whenever he was alone, lying in bed with no one around, Byrne often recalled the blood in his Profound Memory, remembering the repulsive odor that signified death and despair.

Enduring the pain time after time, Byrne gradually tried to overcome the most fatal flaw deep inside him.

And now, it seemed to be effective; he took a deep breath, expelled the dizziness from his mind, and fully memorized everything he observed.

The shattered mirror on the floor was likely the source of the “crack” sound, the muzzle of the alchemical flintlock still had gunpowder residue, clearly it had been used not long before, followed by the wine bottle on the desk and the two glasses of red wine, except it was unknown to whom the second glass was poured.

Byrne felt that the wine was not poured for him, as Mr. Gold knew that he hardly drank, and such a worldly man would not forget that.

Sheriff Renzo was squatting next to Mr. Gold’s corpulent corpse, his expression serious without carelessly touching it, and without turning his head, he said to Butler Poltz and Byrne:

“Mr. Byrne, you must stay here. Butler Poltz, go find my brother and summon Viscount Bast. Don’t spread the word for now and don’t let anyone from the villa come to this side of the study, understood?”

“Yes! Gentlemen, of course, I understand. I will go to Lord Viscount right away!”

The butler nodded repeatedly, began stepping away, and then suddenly, the sheriff turned back and coldly stared at him.

“For whatever reason, if you leak what has happened here beforehand, I will consider you an accomplice to the murderer.”

The butler, pale with fright, scurried away in a panic.

Byrne could tell, this third son of the Lion clan, Sheriff Renzo Leone, was very adept at “intimidation”.

Only Byrne and Sheriff Renzo were left in the room, and because of the recent awkwardness, they did not speak for a long while.

Byrne was not one to hold a grudge, and took the initiative to say to Sheriff Renzo:

“I think the person who wanted to kill Mr. Gold must be an acquaintance, as there were two glasses of red wine on the desk and I do not drink, so the second glass couldn’t have been poured for me.”

Renzo glanced at the young man and nodded calmly: “Makes some sense.”

The atmosphere relaxed slightly, and they did not say much more, waiting until dusk gradually fell and they finally heard footsteps coming upstairs.

The study door was opened from the outside, and three people quickly entered.

They were Mr. Gold’s butler, Viscount Bast, and a middle-aged woman whom Byrne did not recognize at all.

Viscount Bast was slightly short, of medium build, with meticulously combed greying hair, wearing a black tailcoat and a black hat.

His perpetually squinted eyes betrayed a cunning sparkle like that of a fox hunting. Known as “the fox leading the pride of lions,” Viscount Bast’s image of craft and cunning left a profound impression on people.

“Renzo, Byrne, I’m here, alas.”