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Chapter 119 A Letter from a Stranger 2

The birds exchanged glances in the silence. Finally, their gaze turned to the vulture. It was clear that, even here, the vulture was the least popular.

Sensing their eyes, the vulture froze, instantly furious, "You suspect me of betraying you all? You d*mned b*stards, I was part of the trade. Why would I make trouble for myself?!"

"I just want to remind everyone to not leave behind any complications" someone said.

"Of course there won’t be any!" The vulture’s voice was full of frustration, "What do we do now? Do we wait for the secret police to find us one by one and take us away?!" He continued, "The Royal family has been displeased with us for a long time. The Queen has been having some mental issues recently because of the curse. They are willing to seek outside help, to ask the Easterners for help. If they know that we’ve been messing around at this critical point, they’ll never let us go."

"Calm down. The Fifth Division has only heard some rumors. The green falcon has just gone to cooperate with the investigation. He wasn’t arrested," the blue robin said coolly. "If they really did have evidence, we would not be chatting here. At that point, the Fifth Division would kindly open a VIP room for us in the Arkham Asylum. We might be able to have a party there."

"You mean they can’t do anything to us at the moment?" The vulture could not believe it.

"Do you still not understand? Why did Holmes choose to send you all the letter?" the blue robin asked mockingly. "He’s blackmailing you all, my friends! This is clearly to provoke parliament!"

The vulture panicked, "He can have as much money as he wants!"

"Are you kidding me?" The blue robin laughed, "Gentlemen, let me remind you. You might have met the most arrogant kidnapper in the history of Avalon! He has already put blackmail letters containing the fingers of captives into the mailboxes of fourteen families! He has declared war on half of Avalon! How can you satisfy a lunatic like that with money?"

The crowd remained silent. Everyone felt a chill go down their spine. Catching the attention of a lunatic was never a good thing, especially if the lunatic might be a dark musician! The scariest fact of the matter was that this dark musician had escaped past the Avalon Enchantment, hid from the Musician Association, and snuck into Avalon! No one knew what this crazy man could do!

"…What if we stop?" a weak voice sounded from the crowd.

--

The flock of birds rustled, and turned to the source of the voice. At the back of the crowd, the magpie flinched, obviously scared out of his wits. He said, "As long as we don’t get into the mess of Avalon’s Shadow and search for the Blood Path, the dark musician won’t become our enemy, right? And… and…" he could not continue.

The blue robin’s eyes had turned icy. "Do you think you’re still able to stop now?" he asked coldly. "We’ve put in so much effort to spark fights in downtown, and squash the Shaman’s comeback just to find the Blood Path. The Queen has been trying to reduce our power ever since she took the throne. She wants to turn the glorious bloodlines into nothing but a name.

"The Royal family is at its weakest point now. We can only take the initiative if we have the Blood Path. Because at that time, even the Queen will have to listen to us! A dark musician is just an obstacle! What are you all scared of?! Didn’t we work together and force the Shaman away before?"

"But what should we do now?" the owl asked. "Let that dark musician Holmes continue making a mess of things?"

"We don’t need to do anything," the blue robin suddenly said. "Just wait patiently for Holmes to make a mistake. If he dares to leave any evidence behind, he will be dead."

"If he reports us…"

"How?" The blue robin scoffed, "His biggest mistake was in writing the letter and giving us time to prepare. All we need to do is destroy all evidence and create a clear alibi. He won’t be able to do anything to us! And anyway, the elites of Avalon aren’t all perfect like Lancelot. Everyone has done something illegal. The Royals can’t kill all of us, can they?"

As the crowd fell silent, the pelican sighed, "But we must give up on the Pyramid Scheme."

Hearing this, the vulture felt a pang in his heart. Giving up on a hundred-thousand pounds of monthly profit and the tools for dirty work felt as if he was slicing up his own heart to give away. The money was not the most important either. Without the Pyramid Scheme, their eyes, ears, and influence in downtown would be wiped out. They would have to start all over. And the Shaman just had to come back. It was the worst timing!

"Don’t worry. If we can bring the Pyramid Scheme to power, naturally we can help others too. There are many in downtown who want to be connected to us." The blue robin’s voice was sinister, "We’ve let the rednecks go free for too long. This is a good chance to clean them out. Just like nine years ago, the ones who are obedient can survive, but the Shaman, the Professor, and Holmes will die. At that time, all clues to the Blood Path would be in our hands."

"And Sam," someone added. "Get rid of Sam first. That guy knows too much. If he calls us out, things will be messy."

"Don’t worry. Sam will die sooner or later," the blue robin replied. "To prepare for this day, I hired a Blood Sorcerer long ago to curse him. So there shouldn’t be any problems if you take care of your own evidence."

"Take care of…our evidence?" the vulture murmured to himself. When he opened his eyes, he was back in his own body. His eyes were ruthless.

--

"Cullen! Cullen!" Spencer pushed open the library door, calling for his housekeeper, "Tell Cullen to come see me!"

He paced in the library silently, his face dark, as he thought of every detail. But just as he was focused on his thoughts, faint crying and screams sounded. "What’s going on?" he yelled in frustration.

The servant outside the door said, "Master, it’s Young Master Edmund. He’s crying again."

"That useless piece of trash! How is he shameless enough to cry?" Furious, Spencer grabbed an Eastern vase nearby and shattered it at the servant’s feet. "The family had such high expectations for him, but he’s nothing compared to Banner, or Banner’s brother, Gavin."

Usually, Spencer’s voice was full of love when speaking of his youngest child, but now his heart was filled with anger he needed to vent.

"Stealing something so precious from his uncle is one thing. But then he dared to get destroyed by a redneck! And he’s crying?!"

The servant trembled, too afraid to reply. Seeing that Cullen had arrived, he retreated quietly.

All that could be heard in the silence was Edmund’s cries. One could vaguely hear, "I want him to die,""Where’s Father? I want to see Father!" adding to Spencer’s anger.

"Cullen, make him shut up," Spencer spat, "or else he’ll be locked up!"

"Yes," Cullen nodded, still shaken from earlier. He turned to leave but heard a voice behind him, "Bring me everything that the Pyramid Scheme had given. Nothing can remain." He froze in disbelief, instinctively calculating the value of everything. "Everything?" Cullen confirmed.

"Everything." Spencer nodded tersely, "Alert the workers in the boiler room. Tell them we’ll need to use it soon."

--

Half an hour later, the boiler room had become a furnace. It was hard to believe that someone had started the boiler in such hot weather. Servants threw coal in continuously, raising the temperature. Every breath was like swallowing lava. The pain was like a fifth degree burn.

Spencer stood before the boiler, observing the giant thing that could heat up an entire manor in the winter. The door as tall as a man was wide open. Sparks flew in the blazing air, glowing red. Sweat rolled down his back. He held a handkerchief to his mouth, trying to breathe.

"Master, it’s ready," Cullen reported quietly, walking in slowly. "Everything’s here."

Spencer turned to look at the dozens of trolleys. They were filled with antiques, account books, Eastern silk, Burgundy wine, Asgardian tobacco, and ancient books. His heart in pain, he closed his eyes and waved, telling them to hurry.

Muscular servants pushed the trolleys toward the blazing boiler. Even from the distance, their hair curled, and their skin turned red. They did not dare get close to the boiler. They let the trolleys go from a distance, throwing them into the boiler. The precious items burned easily in the red fire and light that seemed to come from hell. Even the trolleys slowly melted before finally disappearing completely. Not even ash was left behind.

One trolley, another trolley, yet another, and another, and another f*cking trolley…Spencer felt his heart dripping with blood. "Are there more?" he asked.

Cullen shook his head, "Master, they’re all here."

"All here?" Spencer seemed unconvinced, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Master. They’re all here." Cullen nodded blankly and suddenly felt pain in his chest. Lowering his head stiffly, he saw a silk gloved hand and the dagger in it. The dagger was Spencer’s favorite blade. It had been given to him by Sam, and could apparently slice through steel as if it were mud, but now it was in his heart.

"Ma…Master?" Cullen looked up in confusion, his eyes studying Spencer’s face hopelessly.

"You’ve worked for our family for three years. I thank you on behalf of my grandfather and my father," Spencer pulled out the dagger, him bidding farewell. "Goodbye, my old friend."

His ‘old friend’ could no longer speak. He collapsed on the floor, whispering something in despair before gradually closing his eyes. The blood dried quickly in the hot wind. It evaporated, leaving behind a dark red stain. It was hardly noticeable on the black floor.

"Get rid of it with the other things. With their company, old Cullen won’t be lonely in Heaven," Spencer tossed the dagger and gloves onto the corpse and left.

The body fizzled and popped in the burner, and turned to coal. The coal gradually crumbled into powder, making small noises as if the soul was wailing in the fire of hell. Finally, the wails disappeared in the flames. Nothing was left behind.

With his back to the blazing light, Spencer stared into the sky outside, his eyes bloodshot. He murmured the d*mned name like a mantra, "Holmes, Holmes, Sherlock Holmes, that d*mn Sherlock Holmes…"