The Speedrun Manual of Miss Witch-Chapter 147 - Ciel, the "Butcher" (4/4)

At this moment, Nia, seeing Ciel’s shark-like serrated teeth, felt her entire armor tremble.

How could it be... How could she choose this path? Even in this situation...

Nia wanted to call out to Ciel and say something, but found herself having no standing to preach to Ciel. Instead...

Instead, she also hoped Ciel could catch the mastermind behind the attack, and punish them with vigilante justice.

After thinking for a moment, Nia quickly followed Ciel, calling out to her.

“Ciel.”

After Ciel stopped, Nia reached out, offering an emblem, and an unopened letter.

This was Avena’s Roswell family crest, and a letter reporting safety from Adele, who was in Orlando.

“Take this family crest, you can mobilize all the forces of the Berren City Police Department.” Nia said.

Nia believed if it were Young Mistress, she would do the same.

Of course, Young Mistress might do it more out of trust, while Nia, instead, wanted to use Ciel’s hand to avenge Young Mistress.

If she didn’t have to stay by Young Mistress’s side now, she would definitely follow Ciel and help her complete her plan.

“Thank you.”

Ciel nodded slightly, took the family crest and letter, put them in her pocket, turned, and walked downstairs.

Watching Ciel’s figure gradually disappear around the stairwell corner, Nia turned her head, looking at the rainy night outside the window.

Tonight in Berren City, things probably won’t be peaceful...

...

Clop, clop, clop...

Several black steeds galloped through the streets. The people riding them wore black steel helmets and black rain cloaks. These were Berren City’s mounted police. Logically, at this hour, they should have been off duty long ago.

But they seemed unceasing, galloping all the way to the Clock Tower Alley district.

At this time, Clock Tower Alley seemed not peaceful. Even at night, many people stood on the roadside in the rain, chatting—because most factories had closed, and this time of day was their work time.

Temporary unemployment created a large number of drunkards wandering the streets. Occasionally, a few people could be seen surrounding and beating someone—the one being beaten was basically a refugee who fled or was transferred from Orlando.

Such attacks occurred almost daily in the past half month. Unemployed workers poured all their resentment onto the weaker Orlando immigrants.

Even staying indoors in rented houses, they could still attract vandalism and looting. And detectives, upon learning the victim was just a refugee, wouldn’t investigate further, just hastily close the case.

Mounted police rode their horses, galloping through the streets. Soon, they stopped before a detached small building.

The mounted police dismounted, took out their police revolvers. The leading detective walked directly to the door and kicked it open.

“Hey! Hey! What are you doing?”

A burly man lying on a sofa hugging his mistress rolled over and stood up, covering his body with clothes, looking somewhat bewildered at the mounted police pointing guns at the door, saying, “Winston, is there some misunderstanding?”

His protection money was paid on time every week, and he hadn’t done anything recently. Logically...

“Where are that batch of military siege explosive barrels.”

The leading detective pointed his gun at the burly man’s forehead, saying coldly.

“Explosive barrels? What explosive barrels?”

The burly man’s face didn’t change, but his heart instantly jolted. Cold sweat streamed down his back.

This was a secret unknown to other splinter groups of the Blackwater Gang. How could the police department possibly know this...

Bang—

A gunshot. The bullet directly pierced the burly man’s shoulder. The leading detective said coldly, “You better not be counting on luck. We have definite intelligence.”

“Uh ah...”

The burly man covered his shoulder, groaning softly. At this time, he realized the detective opposite him was not joking.

Meanwhile, similar scenes were happening in different parts of Berren City.

From nobles up to thugs, anyone possibly linked to the bombing case and the Orlando Republican Army already had detectives at their doors.

The originally corrupt black police who neglected their duties, started biting everywhere like mad dogs. It seemed some sense of belief was supporting them to do this.

And at this moment, on Gem Avenue, a red-haired young girl walked in the rain night, seemingly strolling alone.

In her hand, she held a letter. The content of the letter was read out softly by her.

“I have arrived at the almshouse, Ciel. I am well. Say hello to Avena and Amy for me, but here...”

“In the bedroom I entered, there were no visible mattresses, only some dry straw spread on the floor.”

“These poor North Ansu people huddled together as tightly as possible. Six children squeezed together under a broken blanket, but more people didn’t even have a blanket.”

“Their thin figures and sunken appearances reminded me, without food, their suffering is about to end...”

“On the road, every time our carriage stopped at a place, a large group of emaciated poor people swarmed over, begging for alms.”

“One woman held her dead child in her arms, begging us with tears for some money so she could bury her child.”

“But my money was already completely given away on the previous stretch of road...”

“Westward along the road, every few hundred meters there was a funeral or a coffin, until we reached the resettlement point given to us by the Church of the Savior Goddess.”

“The seemingly endless suffering here is shocking. Sorry Ciel, I might be a bit too emotional. I will find the cause of the epidemic here as soon as possible, let everything recover... Hope you are all well.”

“However, I heard many people have been sent to Ansu territory. If you have money, it seems you can also immigrate abroad with Ansu’s help. Perhaps this is a good solution...”

“Don’t worry about me. There are many transcendents from the Church of the Savior Goddess helping here. Once I set up the laboratory in the almshouse, everything will get better.”

“Your friend”

“Adele”

Almshouse...

This was a letter Adele wrote over ten days ago, and during this time, according to Mayor John, the almshouse had been burned down. That’s why he believed this attack was the Church of the Savior Goddess’s retaliation.

Ciel looked up, took a deep breath, inhaling the cold air into her lungs, then gently exhaled.

After putting the envelope in her pocket, she continued walking alone.

But if there were a transcendent present at this moment, they could see.

Dense black and white shadows, huddled around Ciel’s front, back, left, and right, escorting her steadily forward, until she stopped before a bank.

“Long time no see.”

Ciel looked up at the bank sign that read “Charlie Bank,” speaking softly.