1397 An Ordinary Persons Daily Life 3/8 (2/2)

After exiting the Loen Relic Search and Preservation Foundation and boarding a rental carriage, Barton found the silence rather awkward. He took the initiative to ask, ”Pacheco, you're from Backlund?”

”No.” Pacheco shook his head. ”I'm from Midseashire. I just happen to have lived in Backlund for nearly fifteen years.”

”Why did you leave Backlund? I heard that it's the city most suitable for lawyers to develop their career,” Barton said casually.

Pacheco smiled and said, ”But it's also a place full of competition.

”Alright, I was just joking. I was once a personal lawyer and partner of Framis Cage, a steam car mogul. Later, he invested in the Backlund Bike Company, and I began to work as the company's legal advisor.”

Barton was suddenly enlightened.

”Miss Audrey has a large number of shares in that company. Did you get to know her because of that?”

”That's right.” Pacheco sighed. ”In the war, Framis unfortunately passed away. His estate fell into dispute. As his friend, I helped his widow and children obtain quite a large share. As a result, I offended some people. This made my situation in Backlund become difficult. Fortunately, Miss Audrey extended an olive branch to me and invited me to East Chester County to work at the foundation as deputy director of the Compliance Department.”

With Pacheco telling him such matters, Barton felt a closer bond with him.

He was slightly puzzled and asked, ”Why did they target you? You were just carrying out your duty as a friend and a lawyer.

”Those people should aim at the widow and children of Framis Cage.”

Pacheco laughed self-deprecatingly and said, ”I used some inappropriate methods.

”Also, Framis has other friends to take care of his widow and children.”

As they chatted, the rental carriage arrived at the Clough Hotel in Stoen City.

The location of the hotel was rather good. The street was beautiful and quiet, and they only needed to walk for ten minutes to reach the most bustling streets in the city.

After entering the hotel and finding the boss, Pacheco asked directly, ”We've come to find a friend named Vernal.”

Through their casual conversation, he had already grasped the general situation of the target.

The boss frowned in puzzlement.

”If I remember correctly, there shouldn't be any customer here named Vernal.”

Barton quickly added, ”He's a little taller than me, and he looks very well-built. His nose is always very red, and his body often reeks of alcohol…”

He described the characteristics of Vernal in detail.

The boss recalled and looked at the attendant beside him.

”There's a guest like that,” the attendant replied immediately. ”He lives in Room 309.”

Under the attendant's lead, Barton and Pacheco arrived outside the room and knocked on the door.

The knocking echoed, but there was no movement inside.

Just as Barton was about to suggest calling the police again, Pacheco suddenly bent down and picked up a white, soft tuft of hair from the crack at the bottom of the door.

No, it wasn't hair. It resembled the condensation of fog.

With Pacheco's fingers touching it, it spread out and merged into the air.

At the same time, Barton, whose spiritual perception was slightly different from ordinary people, vaguely heard a faint male voice:

”Tamara… Tamara…”