The Speedrun Manual of Miss Witch-Chapter 145 - Berren City, the Sky Has Changed (2/2)

Ciel abruptly thought of something. She picked up the candle placed on the table, walked towards the few hanging figures.

When the candlelight illuminated their fearful, angry, or bewildered expressions, Ciel took a deep breath, gradually calming down.

All this hasn’t happened in reality yet, there’s still a chance to remedy...

And the method of remedy, in simulation, can be very simple and crude...

Ciel scanned from left to right, across those people tied with hands behind their backs, hanging in mid-air.

Grain merchant, Balfour Huntington.

Municipal Council Chief, John Chamberlain.

Church of the Savior Goddess High Priestess, Uris.

Knight Commander of the Queen’s Sword, Oppold Thaddeus.

Besides these familiar faces, Ciel also saw a few unexpected people.

Deton Group Senior Special Commissioner, Lucy Silva.

Daughter of the Stuart Art Exchange owner, Isabella Stuart.

And a pink-haired woman Ciel seemed to have seen before, but had no strong impression of.

They were all hanging in mid-air, looking at the current Ciel with different expressions.

Yes...

Her simulated self, and her current self share the same feeling.

Just by empathizing slightly with what her simulated self encountered, Ciel could quickly know what she would do.

Investigate slowly like before when she had no power? Unravel things bit by bit?

No.

This is simulation.

In the shortest time, capture everyone possibly knowledgeable about the situation, conduct harsh interrogation, extract information helpful to herself from them—this is what her simulated self would do.

However, only five days had passed since Avena was attacked. Subtracting the time for Tara to go back and gather people, the time left for the simulated Ciel was really not much.

She only had time to capture the people. The interrogation matter could only be left to the Ciel arriving now.

But... why did the simulated Ciel also prepare a bottle of potion?

Ciel looked towards Tara.

After Avena was attacked, nothing was recorded in the notepad. Tara might know more than the current Ciel.

“Tara, what potion is that.” Ciel pointed towards the potion bottle, asking calmly.

“Hm?” Tara was slightly stunned, but quickly, she still replied respectfully, “It’s ‘Butcher’ potion, Lord Ciel.”

You are very angry, aren’t you...

Me.

...

“Mmph!!! Mmph!!!”

Damn it... damn damn damn!!

Goodwin hung in mid-air with hands tied behind her back, pink long hair scattered before her face.

She held a stone shard in her palm, grinding away at the hemp rope tying her hands behind her back, bit by bit.

Previously, she could directly break free from this damn hemp rope; these things couldn’t hold her at all.

But the potion forced down her throat just now made her spirit dazed, unable to exert even a fraction of her strength.

Devil... truly a devil!!

She looked at the small figure writing something under the dim candlelight before her, her eyes full of terror.

Damn it...

Why am I so fated with these damn cultists!

Previously wanted to take some missions at Deton Manor, encountered the cultists’ sacrifice incident, scared her into running away quickly.

Just over a month later, she encountered those lunatics from the Divine Advent Church again, and got captured by them.

What on earth do they want!

Suddenly.

The young girl writing at the desk stood up, turned towards them.

The young girl held a notepad, her fiery red long hair glowed orange at the edges under the candlelight’s halo. She swept her cold, dark red pupils across the people hanging here.

When Goodwin was scanned by the young girl’s gaze, goosebumps rose all over her body. Unexplained fear occupied her heart... as if she had experienced the same fear before.

She swore, this was definitely the first time she saw this red-haired young girl.

But those eyes, clearly the kind looking at dead people... the killing intent in her eyes was chilling—this young girl definitely killed many people, otherwise couldn’t make even a first-tier transcendent like her feel fear seemingly from the depths of her soul.

Damn it! She looks like just an underage ordinary person!

Goodwin was sweating profusely. She stopped the action of grinding the hemp rope in her hand, afraid her small movements would be discovered by the other party.

The young girl just glanced around, then slowly closed her eyes.

A few seconds later, the red-haired young girl opened her eyes again. The killing intent in her eyes disappeared instantly, replaced by confusion and vigilance.

Goodwin saw the young girl move back slightly, glancing fearfully at the hanging people, until the knocking sound came from behind, the young girl’s expression gradually calmed down.

What’s going on...

The young girl’s unusual behavior sent a chill down Goodwin’s spine. Just closing her eyes for a few seconds, the young girl’s performance was like two different people, as if her soul or memory was replaced.

The wooden door opened. The young girl began looking down at the notepad she was writing in just now. During their conversation, Goodwin quietly started again, using the stone shard to grind the rough hemp rope.

Under constant shaking, the hemp rope had already completely chafed her wrist, tearing the skin, revealing pink flesh.

But even so, Goodwin didn’t dare stop her hands, because she noticed, after the young girl finished reading what she recorded on the notepad, seemed to recover her memory, her eyes gradually becoming terrifying.

The tinnitus brought by fear prevented Goodwin from hearing the subsequent conversation between the young girl and that cultist. Now her entire focus was almost on the stone shard in her hand. Slowly, the twisted hemp rope was already cut through one strand by her.

Possible... possible...

Just when Goodwin felt slightly relieved in her heart, she saw the young girl called “Lord Ciel” leading that cultist, walking step by step towards the fat man furthest to Goodwin’s right.

Crack—

The rope hanging the fat man suddenly snapped. A white shadow hung on the rope, swaying gently with the hemp rope’s movement.

Two white shadows pressed the dizzy fat man down to kneel. The young girl holding a carving knife stood before the fat man, saying expressionlessly, “Next, I ask one question, you answer one question, no nonsense.”

The rag in his mouth was also pulled out by a white shadow. The fat man trembled, tears already streaming down.

“Don’t... don’t kill me, all yours, all my money is yours...”

Before the fat man finished speaking, a white shadow choked his throat, making him shut his mouth.

“Five days ago, what were you doing.” The red-haired young girl held the carving knife, asking coldly.

The hand choking the fat man released. The fat man, sweating profusely, trembled and said, “I... I...”

Due to excessive fear, the fat man couldn’t recall what he was doing five days ago for a moment. After stuttering for several seconds, he finally said, “I attended the banquet hosted by Lord Oppold...”

“And then?” The young girl continued asking.

“Because something came up midway, I went home first...”

Before the fat man finished speaking, the cultist transcendent standing behind the young girl, looking not much older than a little girl, slowly said, “This is a lie, Lord Ciel.”

“No... no... don’t, I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”

The fat man’s hands were directly pulled out by two white shadows.

Schlick—

The sharp carving knife directly pierced through his palm, fresh blood splashing onto the ground from the wound.

“Ahhhhh!!!”

Tragic screams echoed throughout the underground dark room. Almost everyone seeing this scene felt a chill in their hearts.

As expected of cultists... completely devoid of humanity.

This was almost everyone’s first thought.