Jacobson Stratholme

The black-robed man flipped his hood back. It was a severely burned face. The right side of the face was like a failed pottery, stuck together into a lump. The lips were split open to reveal the gums, and half of the left eyelid was adhered. He stared at the dwarves with his eyeballs exposed only the size of thumbnails.

"Jito, what are you doing? Don't block our way!" A dwarf stepped forward and was driven back by the waving stick. "Don't you want to know how Gamero died?"

The ugly man named Jito did not give in at all. His left eye stared straight ahead, and the split mouth corner made hurried breathing sounds like wind tunnels, looking anxious and angry. He angrily smashed the stick on the ground and pointed to the house with his fingers covered with several warts, then patted his left shoulder and made a series of incomprehensible movements.

"Hey, what does Jito want to say?" a dwarf said.

"We need to find someone who knows sign language. Is Gubo Blapp here? No?"

"He's been fishing at sea for days."

"Don't you know a little bit?"

"At most, I can only greet him."

The urgency created by the dwarves' siege gradually dissipated in the sultry air.

"Forget it, Jito wants to protect him, we can't help it." "So many people rushing into a small civilian house can't be considered heroes." "I just don't believe this matter won't come to light!" The dwarves came and went noisily. Before long, the dwarves left in groups.

It quickly calmed down around. Jito looked tiredly at Jorgen and Elin, covered his face with his hat again and walked towards the human residential area. Unlike his seemingly collapsible appearance, his steps were very powerful, although his right leg was a little lame.

"Hey! You..."

"Let him go, Elin. We can't question him now."

"What's his name... Jito? It looks like we owe him a favor. Isn't he the freak who lives alone in the haunted house?"

"That's not a haunted house. That's an orphanage."

"Every abandoned orphanage and hospital is commonly referred to as a haunted house. You should understand that."

On the edge of the human residential area, there was an orphanage that went bankrupt due to mismanagement and epidemics. Jito, who was severely burned all over his body, deaf and dumb, grew up there. Now the huge ancient building is inhabited only by him. The rumors of ghosts and Jito's own terrible appearance made the people of Auberdine afraid to avoid it.

For a long time, he has been living on the plants he cultivated in a small piece of land behind the orphanage. No one greeted him, no one was willing to do business with him, let alone hire him, until Gamero Ironhammer led an archaeological excavation team to come. He found that Jito showed rare talent for underground construction, so he recruited him into the excavation team. Jito was not strong, but he worked tirelessly, as if this was the only way for him to express himself after being isolated from the world for a long time. The key is that Jito is not afraid of death. Or rather, he does not know what danger is. Whenever he encounters structures that may collapse or dangerous ancient artifacts, he will be the first to rush forward. Gradually, Gamero regarded him as his most capable assistant, protecting him in a uniquely dwarfish and heroic way. "Go to hell, ten of you plus your dad can't compare to how capable Jito is," Gamero often spat out these words from his drunken mouth to refute those who showed disgust for Jito.

Basically, although born as a human, he was now regarded as an important member of the dwarf tribe.

"Why did he do this?" Elin said. "To protect the scene with a civic spirit?"

"I don't know. But now we owe him a debt."

Jorgen had never heard of any connection between Jito and Dores.

"However," Jorgen said, "he may not see it that way."

"I don't understand what you mean. Can you be more straightforward?"

"The way he looked just now was like protecting his own home."

The human residential area of Auberdine is divided into the South District and the Southwest District. The South District is wealthier - in fact, the wealthiest area in Auberdine. The Southwest District, on the other hand, is so dilapidated that it is embarrassing. The next morning, Jorgen walked down the avenue in the South District and looked westward. He saw the abandoned orphanage in the distance at the junction of the two districts, like a tombstone standing in the morning mist.

Jorgen came to a large manor. Even Stormwind City would hardly find such a magnificent residence. Priest Jacobson Stratholme was the owner of the mansion, in fact, he was the owner of all the land in the South District.

When Jorgen entered the office, Jacobson was burying his head in a pile of bills and reports, scratching his gray hair. For a moment when he heard the door open, he said half annoyed, "Who is it? I said no appointment..." Then seeing the identity of the visitor clearly, he immediately changed his mouth and said: "Ah, here comes a remarkable guest. Jorgen, very glad to see you."

Jacobson stood up and shook hands with Jorgen. Jorgen felt that the other party's hand was very strong but trembling.

"Good neighbor, may the Holy Light protect you. Please sit down first. Before you express your purpose - I believe it must be very important - would you like some new port wine? It cost me a lot of effort to order it. Its taste will make you think of home..."

"No need. Put down that glass."

"Are you sure?"

"Listen, Jacobson. You can play these tricks in the salons of Stormwind City as much as you like. But I don't want my time wasted."

Jacobson sat back behind the desk, the smile on his face unchanged.

"You are still so unfriendly. You should try to believe in the Holy Light. It will make you calm."

"Let me ask you a few questions about the night of the Fire Festival."

"Oh... I heard about a suicidal carpenter... It's really sad. If my words are of any use to you, please feel free to ask. Although there is still a lot of work today, I have some time for this."

"Very simple questions. I remember that you were the sponsor of Dores' construction of the maze, right?"

"I just provided the materials to the enthusiastic citizen representatives. It was they who met and decided who should take on this venerable work. I trusted them, so I didn't ask who the materials were used for in the end."

"So you didn't see Dores on the day of the Fire Festival?"

"This name only has some vague projections in my mind. He and I were not in private contact, and I can't even guarantee that I can recognize him. What a pity, a person with such good skills must have a beautiful soul, I should have known him better."

"So your answer is 'no'?"

"No. I hardly knew him, and even if I saw him that day, I might not have recognized him."

"Bullshit."

"Holy Light above, please do not use such vulgar words, it will damage your personality. Do you suspect that I, a servant of the Holy Light, am lying about a deceased?"

If I hear another sentence like this with pretentious words, I won't be able to eat anything today. Jorgen thought, and then said: "You may not have seen him on the day of the Fire Festival. Or you saw him but don't remember. But to say you didn't know him, Jacobson, that's an unbelievably foolish lie."

"I'm confused, Jorgen. Please...?"

"Just last year, he worked as your carpenter for three months. I guess the chair under your butt was made by him."

"Oh... You're right. My residence is indeed rather shabby, so I have to hire some carpenters from time to time for repairs. Perhaps I did hire him before. But perhaps this is an inappropriate metaphor, but you wouldn't remember every prisoner you arrested, would you?"

"I really admire you, Jacobson. How can a person lie in a row without pausing at all? Can you also shout loudly 'every penny of mine is clean, I have never done illegal lending'?"

"I really don't understand your intentions, Jorgen. Illegal lending, what a terrible business! Anyone with a little mercy would not do such a thing..."

"Three years ago, Dores borrowed 1,000 gold coins from you at high interest. The repayment deadline agreed at that time was three years. Of course, he was just an inconspicuous name on your long list of borrowers and lenders. Who knows what you will do. I guess just letting him come to your house to do free carpentry work would not satisfy you, right? "

Jacobson's smile disappeared, and his mouth sagged to one side.

"If you want to know why I know these things, it's simple, he told me in person."

"Unreasonable, unreasonable!" Jacobson stood up, "I'm sorry I can't understand your meaning, Jorgen. Look, I still have a lot of work to do. If you want to talk again, please make another appointment. But there is nothing more to say between us on this topic."

"Do you want to obstruct my inquiry, Jacobson? I can talk to you as a direct investigator of Military Intelligence Section 7. In that case, my questions will be very different, and you certainly won't like it."

"What a shameful thing, Holy Light above! I was actually threatened with unfounded charges..."

At this moment, the door suddenly opened. A golden-haired youth in priestly robes walked in. Jacobson immediately shut up.

"Father," the young man said, "are you alright? I heard..."

"Nothing at all, my good Lemenito."

"I brought you some new documents..."

"Good, leave them here. Then please show Mr. Jorgen out."

Lemenito walked up to Jorgen, palms flat pointing to the door. The smile on his face was more real than his father's.

Jorgen did not really believe that Jacobson would kill Dores for lending money. The words he said were more warning than practical. Therefore, he got up and walked out the door.

Lemenito followed him and said, "Has my father got into any trouble?"

"Nothing. Just some routine questions."

"If he did something, you must tell me. My father is an incontinent man."

Hearing these words, Jorgen did not conceal his surprise. This was the first time he spoke to Jacobson's son alone. Although he had heard good reviews from neighbors about this kind and upright young man from time to time, he never imagined that he would criticize his own father in such a calm tone.

"Incontinent? In what aspects?"

"Everything." Lemenito's sea-blue eyes showed no doubt; as if anyone who could say enough to overturn the situation with composure.