Lord of Mysteries:The Good Witch

After hastily packing a few things, Angel followed the three "Nighthawks" out of her home.

Before leaving, she requested to bring her weapons: the dagger and revolver inherited from Cole Granger, as well as the lady's pocket pistol she had retrieved from Iron Cross Street the night before.

Dunn Smith didn't object, but required that during Angel's "protective custody", these weapons be held by Leonard Mitchell, another accompanying Nighthawk.

This is basically the same as not bringing them at all... Angel thought with a pout, but agreed nonetheless.

While retrieving the gun from the study, she secretly glanced at the hidden compartment under the desk. The mysterious extraordinary characteristic stored there seemed untouched, but she dared not examine it closely with Leonard watching.

After handing over the weapons from the drawer to Leonard and grabbing some cash, she finally left the house under the Nighthawks' "escort".

Outside, it was already the next morning. Daffodil Street bustled with pedestrians, and carriages weaved through the crowds heading in all directions. A police carriage Angel had seen a few nights ago was parked at the door, adorned with two crossed swords embracing a crown - symbolizing the police system's subservience to royal will.

The street wasn't particularly wide, and the parked carriage was already causing some traffic disruption. However, the people detouring around it showed no complaints, instead curiously watching Angel being escorted by several officers as she prepared to board.

I'm going to become famous in this neighborhood now... Angel wished she could find a hole to crawl into, regretting not wearing a hood before leaving. Seeing the crowd's tendency to gather and stare, she quickly stepped onto the carriage's footboard and entered.

The interior was fairly spacious, with thick carpeting and curtained windows, permeated by a faint scent of incense.

Daisy Simone, dressed in a somewhat gypsy style, followed her in. She also seemed uncomfortable with the public attention and had donned a hood before leaving. Only after entering the carriage did she reveal her face adorned with eyeshadow and blush. She sat across from Angel, her tense body finally relaxing.

The carriage door remained open, but the other two Nighthawks didn't enter.

Perhaps this carriage requires two drivers? Angel wondered curiously. She parted the curtains and peered outside.

...

The Granger residence was located at 6 Daffodil Street, near the end closest to Iron Cross Street. This area consisted of low-rise terraced houses with doors opening directly onto the street, unlike the wealthy northern district homes with their own gardens and lawns.

Next door to No. 6, in front of another two-story residence, three men and a woman were conversing quietly. One middle-aged man, holding a set of keys, was introducing the place to the other three who seemed familiar with each other:

"Daffodil Street is right next to Cross Street, with convenient transportation and well-equipped surroundings. The neighbors are all respectable people like teachers and government employees. Your next-door neighbor at No. 4 is a lawyer, and beyond that at No. 6..."

He was pointing towards Angel's house when he saw several people emerge from the front door. Two men wore the distinctive black and white checkered uniforms of Tingen City police, escorting two women to a police carriage. This made him swallow the rest of his words.

I was just boasting about how all the neighbors have respectable jobs, and now the police are making such a spectacle of arresting someone...

Sweat beaded on the forehead of Scart from the "Tingen City Housing Improvement Company" as he racked his brain for a way to smooth this over. But then he saw the young gentleman among his three clients cheerfully greet the police by the carriage:

"Captain, what brings you here as well?"

They know each other? Scart stared at the two policemen, especially the stars on their uniform epaulettes, lost in thought.

...

By the carriage, Dunn Smith and Leonard Mitchell were exchanging pleasantries with a young man in formal attire. Angel listened from the window for a while and learned that this young man was a new recruit to the Tingen City Nighthawks named Klein Moretti. He had come to Daffodil Street with his brother and sister to view a house for rent.

So he's planning to rent next door to the Granger house? Angel looked at the two men and one woman standing in front of 2 Daffodil Street behind him. One middle-aged man held a brass door key identical to Angel's, dressed like a realtor introducing the property.

Daffodil Street wasn't cheap. Buying a house here cost 600-1000 pounds depending on the exact location and size. Even renting cost about 15 soli per week, or around 40 pounds a year - close to the average income of a Tingen City worker. Of course, one couldn't spend their entire income on rent, so the residents here were all "high-end workers" with incomes far above average.

The Nighthawks' salary must be well above average income for this new recruit Klein Moretti to eagerly seek better housing and improve his living conditions as soon as he got the job.

She glanced at Klein Moretti, who was thanking Dunn Smith for an advance on his salary, and suddenly recognized his young, scholarly face in her memory.

So he's that young "official's son" who shared a carriage with Dunn Smith that night. It seemed the Nighthawks routinely went out on duty in the late hours. Angel recalled Dunn Smith's "Sleepless" potion and his ability to invade dreams, thinking it wasn't strange for them to prefer going out in the latter half of the night.

Sensing the gaze from inside the carriage, Klein Moretti looked up towards Angel. As their eyes met, he froze for a moment before hastily averting his gaze back to Dunn Smith.

"This is Angel Granger, a distant relative of Cole Granger who lives here," Dunn Smith voluntarily explained to Klein. "We received a report that Cole has been missing for several days, so we've asked this lady to come in to assist with the investigation. She's not a suspect, just a witness."

Dunn's voice was noticeably louder than necessary for their conversation, loud enough for the surrounding onlookers to hear.

Is he trying to explain on my behalf, worried the neighbors might misunderstand?

Noticing the change in the crowd's expressions after hearing Dunn Smith's words, Angel glanced at him again, feeling that this stern-faced "Sleepless" wasn't as intimidating as when they first met.

Klein Moretti still seemed puzzled. He opened his mouth to ask more but suddenly stopped as if remembering something. He then bid farewell to Dunn Smith and Leonard Mitchell and returned to the doorway of 2 Daffodil Street.

The remaining two exchanged a few brief words. Dunn took on the task of driving the carriage, sending Leonard up into it. Under the watchful eyes of the Moretti family, other neighbors, and passersby, they departed Daffodil Street.

Leonard Mitchell, with his black hair and green eyes, looking more like a poet than a policeman, stooped to enter the carriage and closed the door behind him. The "spirit medium" Daisy and Angel sat on opposite long benches facing each other. Seeing Daisy sitting coldly in the middle of her bench with no intention of making room, Leonard smiled apologetically at Angel. She raised an eyebrow and moved to the side by the door, leaving half a seat for Leonard.

"Thank you," Leonard sighed in relief, thanking Angel before sitting down.

The carriage interior once again fell into an awkward silence, broken only by the occasional shouts of street vendors and the regular "clack" of wheels on cobblestones from outside.

Unable to bear the silence for more than two minutes, Leonard Mitchell pulled out the box of bullets he was safekeeping and took one out to examine closely.

His gaze swept over the intricate engravings on the casing, finally resting on the emblem of the Goddess of Night.

"Is this a monster-hunting bullet? Did you make it yourself?" Leonard turned his head to ask Angel Granger, who had been staring at him since he took out the bullet.

"I did make it myself, but it's not what you call a monster-hunting bullet. I've never seen one of those," Angel answered truthfully, as she really didn't know what a monster-hunting bullet was.

Leonard Mitchell drew his revolver from the shoulder holster under his police uniform, flipped open the cylinder, and extracted a bullet from the chamber, handing it to Angel.

"This is a monster-hunting bullet. The engravings and emblems on it give it extra lethality against extraordinary creatures."

Angel took the bullet and examined it carefully.

It was a silver-white handgun bullet that looked expensive at a glance, smaller than her "Storm Gathering" rounds, probably .38 caliber. Both the bullet and casing were inscribed with complex patterns, with a black and red emblem of the Goddess of Night on the base.

"The engravings are different, and so is the function," she explained, returning the "monster-hunting bullet" to Leonard. "My bullets mainly enhance penetration and power, without targeting specific enemies."

Leonard nodded, replacing the silver "monster-hunting bullet" in the chamber and holstering his gun. He picked up the crudely made but more intimidating-looking .45 "Storm Gathering" bullet again.

"Monster-hunting bullets are standard ammunition for Nighthawks in battles against extraordinary forces. They're uniformly manufactured and distributed by the church. Even the captain can't make them. Where did you learn to make these bullets?" he asked, seemingly casually.

Angel was about to make up a lie when her gaze fell on the "spirit medium" Daisy sitting opposite. At some point, Daisy had straightened up and was now holding the bronze goblet she had during their first meeting at Cole's house.

Feeling tense, Angel recalled her dream conversation with Dunn Smith, his occasional strange gestures, and the way he looked behind her. She swallowed her prepared lie and answered honestly:

"It's a manufacturing method from the religious tradition I originally belonged to. I intended to use them against Madam Sharon."

"Originally belonged to? Do you mean another orthodox church?" Leonard Mitchell first looked at Daisy, who nodded almost imperceptibly, before continuing his questioning.

"Not one of the seven major churches, just a religion that no longer exists in this world," Angel said with a hint of sadness. This wasn't feigned emotion; thinking about how she might never return to her original world filled her with dejection and regret.

"But don't worry, it wasn't some evil god-worshipping organization. Besides, I should be considered a follower of the Goddess of Night now. Look, She answered my prayer and blessed this bullet with power."

Angel picked up a "Storm Gathering" bullet and released a bit of spirituality to her fingertips. Sensing her spirituality, a faint crimson glow flowed through the engravings on the casing, and the emblem of the Goddess of Night shimmered brilliantly in the light.

Leonard Mitchell's eyes widened. He stared at the bullet in disbelief for a long moment before coming to his senses, as if asking someone or talking to himself: "Is this really the power of the Goddess of Night... Hmm, it seems so. With divine power added, this would be considered an extraordinary item now. If I hadn't confirmed you were an 'Assassin', I'd almost think you were a 'Craftsman' from the Steam Church."

Confirmed... It seems they indeed had other ways to verify my words in the dream. Now it appears it might be the effect of Ms. Daisy's goblet. Good thing I didn't lie just now...

Also, what's a "Craftsman"? He mentioned the Steam Church, is that the "Church of the God of Steam and Machinery"? Angel caught the keywords in the conversation, silently analyzing in her mind, but continued speaking:

"This is indeed power bestowed by the Goddess of Night. Last night when I was making the bullets, I prayed to the deity but received no response. I was almost in despair, but unexpectedly, the Goddess of Night answered my plea at that moment, sending down Her blessing and allowing me to complete these bullets. Praise the Goddess."

With that, Angel drew a crimson moon over her chest, thanking the Goddess of Night for Her timely blessing.

"Ah... Praise the Goddess," Leonard Mitchell hastily echoed, his face still showing lingering confusion. "You made these last night? You mean you first prayed to your previous deity for blessing?"

He hesitated for a moment but still asked: "Forgive my impertinence, but may I ask... how long have you been a follower of the Goddess of Night?"

Angel glanced at the silent Ms. Daisy, who still held the bronze goblet, and had to answer truthfully: "I haven't been a follower of the Goddess of Night for very long. It's mainly due to the influence of recent events, especially..." She spoke euphemistically for a bit, then decided this wasn't something that needed to be kept secret. "...To be specific, it's probably been less than 24 hours."

What?

Leonard Mitchell turned to Daisy Simone, who held the 3-0688 "Cup of Truth", and saw her looking back at him with an equally puzzled expression.

The truth?