Chapter 926: The Mysterious Man

Those slaves who escaped from Moriarty’s laboratory alive, some were injected with the vaccine, some had already had the pox, and all of them gained immunity to the smallpox virus. Compared with other slaves who did not have the pox, they The value is higher and more popular with buyers.

It's not hard for Joan to imagine that the tutor can get a lot of cash in exchange for selling the slaves who have lost their value.

Perhaps it was because of this income that he had the energy to buy 50 new slaves and carry out the second round of experiments.

More experimental samples can provide more abundant observational data, laying a solid foundation for Professor Moriarty's virus prevention theory.

His method of recycling experimental bodies is the most cost-effective, and there is no waste at all. It is both rational and legal.

But Qiao An vaguely felt that behind this series of precise and efficient calculations, there was some kind of chilling sign.

During this time, Master Harry often visited Professor Moriarty.

Joan really couldn't understand why Master Harry was so keen on making friends with his father's fiancee's ex-boyfriend, didn't he feel embarrassed?

Perhaps influenced by Master Harry, Professor Moriarty would go to the club attached to the "Hot Spring Palace" hotel every afternoon to drink tea, play cards, and play a few rounds of billiards to kill the lazy time in summer afternoons.

Joan, who was a student, also took on a new errand—accompanying the tutor to participate in the club activities of the sanatorium.

Fortunately, today is different from the past. After more than a year of social training, especially under the careful training of Mrs. Josephine, although Joan still doesn't like to participate in social activities, at least the symptoms of social barriers are not as serious as before .

When participating in club activities these days, besides eating and drinking with him, Joan also has to play well with his mentor and Master Harry.

Joan played a good hand.

Especially when he is sitting at the same poker table with the mentor, the fate of the dealer or other players is doomed—either they are being "washed" or have already been "washed".

It's not good to be too sharp.

Within a few days, all the card lovers in the club, including professional gamblers, knew that both master and apprentice had a perverted brain.

Everyone knew they were counting cards, but there was nothing they could do.

No one wants to participate in a game where they must lose. Joan and Professor Moriarty have won too much, and as a result, no one wants to play cards with them.

According to Qiao An, in this case, you might as well pretend to be stupid and lose a few hands to give some comfort to the poker players. Seeing that there is still hope of winning, they will no longer reject him and his mentor.

However, Professor Moriarty seemed to disdain to do so, and simply stopped playing cards, and his interest shifted to billiards.

Mr. Professor's golf skills are equally as good as his card skills.

Qiao An didn't know how to play billiards originally, but in order to practice with his instructor, he was forced to learn two hands as well, and his playing skills improved a lot.

Play ten rounds, if you are lucky, you can beat the instructor by one or two rounds.

On the afternoon of May 28th, as usual, Joan played billiards in the hotel club with his mentor.

Professor Moriarty made a good kick-off, and then scored consecutive goals. Counting the time to think about the hitting route, Joan could only sit on the sidelines for a long time.

When he had nothing to do, he held his cue and listened to the guests drinking tea and chatting.

The hot topic these days is still the mysterious murder that happened in the wetland not long ago.

Five days had elapsed since the discovery of Mr. Harrell Lancashire's body by Sheriff Grayson, the sheriff of Hot Springs, without the slightest progress in the case.

So far, there are no clues about the murderer, but the tourists in the resort generally have a mysterious consensus-believing that the murderer is among them.

Joan could only think that these guys read too many detective novels serialized in newspaper columns, confusing stories with reality.

Just when Joan was drowsy, the door of the club opened suddenly, and a strange man walked in with a tall and mighty black hound.

The club has an unwritten rule.

The kittens and puppies in the arms of the ladies can be brought into the club, but they are also pets, and the large hounds domesticated by the men are not allowed to be brought in.

When the waiter saw someone violating the rules, he went forward to remind the new guest not to bring his big dog into the room, so as not to frighten other guests.

The new guest ignored the waiter's reminder, just gave him a cold look, raised his hand and flicked away the young man who was a head taller than himself.

The waiter is also a well-informed character. Looking at the other party's posture, he knew that he was not easy to mess with, so he retreated despondently, not daring to speak any more.

The small conflict in front of the club attracted Joan's attention, and he looked curiously at the strange man with the hunting dog.

The other party seemed to be in his early 30s, not taller than Joan, but with broad shoulders and a broad body, giving off a short, stout and steady impression.

The strange man was wearing a stand-up collar windbreaker, a fedora hat, a black cane of invisible material in his hand, and a pipe in his mouth. His face was stern, and he looked like an officer in civilian clothes.

What impressed Joan the most was the man's eyes.

Those gray eyes have no emotion at all, their sharp gaze seems to be able to penetrate all substances including the human heart, making it impossible to look at each other.

"Carl, follow up!"

The short, stern man turned his head and whistled.

The hound with dark fur all over the body ran to the owner in response, looking very well-behaved and sensible.

The hound named "Carl" followed closely at his master's feet. He didn't stick out his tongue and pant like ordinary hounds. Instead, he kept his mouth shut, silent, and patrolled the crowd with piercing eyes.

Joan noticed that the hound's eyes were as stern and majestic as his master's when looking at people, as if he were a judge in a black robe.

Anyone who has done something bad will probably not dare to look at this hound with awe-inspiring eyes.

Joan had a vague intuition that the short and strong man and his hound were not ordinary people.

The cold and hard temperament exuded by the short and stout man was incompatible with the leisurely atmosphere of the club. He didn't seem to be here to pass the time, but more like he was looking for something.

Just as Joan was secretly observing the person and the dog, there was a crisp sound of hitting the ball in his ears.

"Joan, it's your turn."

Professor Moriarty put down his club, took out a handkerchief to wipe his hands, and came to the sidelines with a smile on his face.

Joan poured a cup of black tea, handed it to the instructor, picked up the club, and walked to the table.

After looking at the situation on the table, he couldn't help frowning.

Almost all the balls that could be played on the table were pocketed by Professor Moriarty.

In the last shot, Mr. Professor did not take any risks, and made a solid defense. He hid the white ball behind the black ball near the bottom bank, and the two balls were almost close together.

Thank you book friend: tce, reward 500 starting coins this week