Director Lawson hesitated a little on the other end of the line before speaking cautiously to Vincent Vance: "There’s sothing I think I ought to tell you."
Vincent felt his heart sink at Director Lawson’s heavy tone. "Please, go ahead."
"Last night, the couple you brought out from the mountains—the man recalled there were so important items left at ho, so he took the opportunity to go back. However, he hasn’t returned since dawn. Later, the woman felt sothing was amiss and reported it to the police. When my team arrived, the man was already..."
The man’s death must have been too grueso, which left Director Lawson unwilling to be too detailed. However, Vincent understood the gist—the man was definitely dead.
Thinking about how the only clue to Mount Caelus’s route suddenly broke off again, Vincent felt a surge of frustration. Taking a deep breath, he walked a full circle in the study while holding his phone, reluctantly pressing Director Lawson for clarity: "The man is dead, right?"
"Yes, when my team got there, all that was left was a pile of bones. The body was tested, and it’s confird to be him," Chief Lewis replied to Vincent with certainty.
"Did his wife say anything?" Vincent was unwilling to give up so easily, thus pinning his hopes on the man’s wife.
ntioning the man’s wife, Director Lawson sighed helplessly: "Upon hearing her husband’s death, she went insane on the spot. She’s still incoherent, and we couldn’t get any information. All we know is she said her husband went back to fetch so things but didn’t return all night, so she got worried."
"I understand. Thank you for letting know..."
Upon hearing about the woman’s madness, Vincent sighed in despair, turning to sit on the chair behind him and closing his eyes to ponder.
Whether it was coincidence or intentional, why did every clue he found always get cut off before he could act?
Why? Was there really nothing he could do for May Morgan and the child in her womb?
Vincent sat in the chair for a long while before suddenly thinking of Jacob Jennings again, rembering his morning instruction to go to Crestwood, he grabbed his phone and hurriedly called him before he could act.
"Jacob, don’t go to Crestwood just yet. Director Lawson just called about the farr who suddenly died; the clues have broken off, and your trip there would be aningless."
Jacob, fully geared up for departure, was shocked upon hearing Vincent’s words: "What happened? Accident or murder?"
"According to Director Lawson, the man recalled so important items at ho, so he went back. But by morning, he hadn’t returned. When his wife reported it, and the police went over, he was already a pile of bones. His death resembled those of our previous n, likely the sa culprit."
Listening to this, Jacob suddenly felt a surge of determination and confidently said to Vincent: "In that case, I should go to Crestwood even more. Last ti, I was in such a hurry, I didn’t dare to inspect the mountain closely. Then, I thought the woman wouldn’t show up again, but she dared to act up there. So, I must take people over and check; maybe we can deal with that old woman once and for all."
"But Crestwood is too dangerous; if you go, I’m worried sothing might happen." The relationship between Jacob and Vincent was like brothers; knowing there’s danger ahead and still sending Jacob would be coldhearted on Vincent’s part, which he couldn’t do.
Jacob, however, was unwavering in his decision to go, despite Vincent’s persuasion: "Big Boss, rest assured, we can’t always be on the defensive; it’s ti for a counterattack. I’ve researched so on the Poisonous Insect before this trip. While the woman uses them to kill, she probably can only control low-level ones and only dare to act at night. I know how to deal with it."
"Then... I’ll deploy more people to accompany you." Seeing Jacob’s determination, Vincent had no choice but to let him go.
"No need, I can go myself. Once there, Director Lawson’s team can lend a hand. We’ve lost too many people, and Poisonous Insects aren’t sothing that can be defeated by sheer numbers."
After hanging up Jacob’s call, Vincent’s heart was still unsettled. He reached to remove the amulet from his neck, then stared at it in his palm for a long ti.
This amulet belonged to Mason Morgan.
It was said Mason Morgan was once attacked by Poisonous Insects, causing him to disappear for more than ten days. But just when everyone thought he was dead, he reappeared, his clothes tidy, his appearance unchanged, but his mind seed dumbfounded.
From Vincent’s experience over the years, those ten plus days of Mason Morgan’s disappearance must have involved unimaginable events.
Where did he go during those ten days? How did he evade the Poisonous Insect attack? Considering the harsh conditions on the mountain, how did he survive for over ten days? Moreover, was his sudden amnesia tied to encountering sothing or soone bizarre who cast strange spells on him?
Just like the strange man Jacob t at the airport, was there so inseparable connection during this period?
After contemplating in the study for quite so ti, and gradually clearing his thoughts, Vincent hurriedly opened the door to leave, only to find May Morgan standing there with a bowl of porridge, heading towards his room.
Worried she might fall, a maid followed closely beside her, carefully matching her steps and whispered gently: "Madam, I could have brought the porridge myself. Please, watch your step. If you fall, I can’t bear the responsibility."
May, carefully holding the porridge, replied to the nagging maid: "Oh! I’m bringing it myself to show my sincerity."
Amused, the maid smiled awkwardly and didn’t argue, only following her words by praising May: "Madam misses Master, and we, as servants, are happy for Master."
May sighed in helplessness, chiding the maid: "You promised to wake earlier, but you forgot. Now there’s no ti to cook porridge, so I have to personally bring a bowl to show my intent, otherwise, it seems insincere, doesn’t it?"
"I hesitated to wake you because you were sleeping so well. Besides, pregnant won in their early stages sleep a lot, and I figured letting you sleep more is good for the baby inside you."
Though defending herself, the maid silently griped: You sleep like a log every ti, even the master can’t wake you. How could we, the servants, wake you? And by the way, your porridge is probably even dogs would refuse; yet you dare to show off with it.
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