Chapter 62: The Deceased Magician

Hearing Silas's seemingly casual, unintentional words, Jeros immediately seized upon a point that had been making him uncomfortable.

"Warren, find Orson Heath and confirm the location of that circus and the magician," Jeros said immediately.

Warren, upon hearing this, stood and nodded. "Yes!"

Jeros then stood up, put on his Demon Hunter uniform, and gave Silas a meaningful look. "Your thinking is much more agile than I imagined."

This look startled Silas. He didn't know how to respond for a moment.

Fortunately, Jeros didn't intend to delve further and changed the subject. "Do you have any other plans for the next few days?"

Silas nodded. "Is there some work?"

"That depends on your tenant," Jeros said, putting on his equipment.

"Ada?" Silas was taken aback.

Jeros nodded slightly. "I don't know what she's thinking, meddling in affairs by creating some kind of homeless protection act with the humanitarian organization. This matter has been making quite a stir these past few days, and since the citizens are quite responsive to this, Mayor Arnold has agreed to her request to accept the homeless and give them new identities."

Silas laughed. "That's great, isn't it? Not all homeless people are lazy and unwilling to work."

Jeros looked at Silas's smiling face and said calmly, "For you, it's an expression of inner goodness, but for us, it's just a boring and troublesome amount of work."

"What does it have to do with you?" Silas was taken aback.

Jeros finally hung the longsword on his back, saying some complaining words in that calm, terrifying tone, "Do you really think the government and the Church are just for show? Accepting those homeless people with unknown identities rashly is fraught with dangers. And to minimize this danger, both the Church and the government require us to conduct strict inspections on every registered homeless person – first to ensure there are no mental problems, second to ensure there are no issues with their faith, and third to ensure there's no other mystical presence. This kind of thing is super troublesome and boring; it's simply a waste of time…"

Silas, listening from the side, was somewhat unable to process it. The hopeful idea he had had that morning was directly shattered here.

"Master Jeros will personally inspect them? And also check their mind, faith, and mystical presence? Damn it!" Silas felt utterly hopeless.

Even if Helles and Bernice had changed almost completely, even if they might have had their original Demoness auras covered by the Storm Hunt Imprints, Silas wouldn't dare send the two Demonesses before this Master for inspection, even if he had a thousand times the courage.

"You seem to be very distressed?" Jeros suddenly asked.

Silas composed himself, scratched his head, and said, "I feel like I'm going to face a dark future three days from now."

Jeros patted him on the shoulder. "Let's leave those things for later. Let's go take a look at the circus."

"Alright!" Hearing that they were going to deal with that magician, Silas was immediately interested.

Walking out of the office, Warren had already walked over with Orson Heath.

"Do you need police support?" Orson asked.

Jeros pondered for a moment. "It's possible. To prevent accidents, try to isolate the entire circus from the ordinary people."

Orson nodded upon hearing this. "Alright, I'll go arrange it now."

With that, he turned to arrange manpower.

Jeros said, "We'll go take a look first."

Silas looked at Jeros in that outfit, thinking to himself, "Are you going to investigate a case? Dressed so flamboyantly, aren't you afraid of scaring the criminals away?"

However, he quickly came to terms with it, just like how the police in TV shows always went to arrest criminals with sirens blaring.

As the three were walking towards the entrance of the police station, the door was suddenly pushed open. A chubby, middle-aged man with a slicked-back hairstyle ran in, his face deathly pale. "Someone's dead! Someone's dead!"

Orson, who was just about to leave, was stunned. "Mr. Morgan?"

Jeros asked, "You know him?"

"He's the owner of that circus. He came here four days ago to register," Orson said directly.

…

On the north side of Bayne City's suburbs was a poorly performing farm.

Because its performance was not very good, its scale was shrinking more and more, thus freeing up a lot of space.

And this space gave the farm a second spring. Because, starting from some unknown time, it became a good place for traveling circuses to set up camp.

Traveling circuses would choose this place as a temporary base.

The Seine Circus was one such circus that had set up camp here four days ago after obtaining government permission.

Four days of busy performances and a large audience made everyone in the circus feel very fulfilled and happy.

However, early this morning, everyone heard some bad news.

The circus's magician, Jex, had been murdered.

The second floor, near the northwest corner, was Jex's room.

At this moment, the entire second floor had been cleared, and the other staff members were gathered on the first floor, their faces pale and worried.

Silas stood at the door, looking at the situation inside. His stomach started to churn again.

This Jex magician had died very tragically, very tragically.

His eyes had been gouged out, his ears crushed by something, and his heart exposed.

The deceased body had been forcibly made to kneel on the ground, seemingly praying to something.

And the entire body seemed to have been drained, which was very frightening.

The ground was covered with chilling blood, and the room was filled with a pungent stench.

Jeros bent down, reached out his hand, picked up a drop of blood, and licked it. "He's a magician; there's no mistake."

This magician was from the mystical profession.

The knowledge possessed by Demon Hunter Masters exceeded ordinary people's imagination. Someone like Jeros, who was proficient in all potions, only needed to taste the blood to discern the subtle traces of potions that had been taken, thereby identifying the true profession.

Appearance, language, and even thoughts could lie, but the blood flowing in your body could not.

Seeing this, Silas's awe deepened, and he was even more determined that he absolutely couldn't let Helles and Bernice meet Jeros.

Thud! Thud!

Leather boots stepped through the blood and entered the room. Jeros's eyes scanned the surroundings, then keenly found a completely transparent magic circle beneath a layer of blood on the ground.

His hand, wearing a black leather glove, directly brushed aside the viscous blood on the ground. Jeros made a strange pattern in the air with his other palm, then slapped it downwards.

Whoosh…

A burst of fire instantly ignited, and the target of the flame was the blood on the ground.

This fire was very special. It only burned blood, and although it would slightly scorch other things, it didn't cause much damage.

Silas, seeing this, was filled with envy, thinking, "When will I be able to possess such cool abilities?"

A few seconds later, the blood had been completely burned away.

"Judging by the burning time, it was a professional magician," Jeros said, then looked down.

At this moment, a magic circle, complex to the extreme, appeared before Silas's eyes.