Chapter 533 Ch532 Some Past Three

Chapter 533 Ch.532 Some Past Part 3

Blood.

A letter opener stabbed into the neck.

Short saw.

some tissue fluid.

A lumpy organ that was too slippery to hold up.

A calf with an uneven incision.

Mason Lyle covered in blood.

A crystal bottle containing a fairy.

The only things that filled the tent were heavy and rapid breathing, and the sharp and terrifying laughter coming from the bottle.

Damn...

She deserves to die!

That's my circus!

mine!

No one can take away what is mine!

One pound! A shilling! Not even a penny!

When Mason Lyle heard the woman announce her name, he held his head high and ordered himself to get out of the circus before tomorrow...

then.

He didn't remember anything.

Or, remember every detail so clearly.

I remember the panic on the woman's face, the begging for mercy, and the struggle in her mouth.

'This is what happens...' He wiped the blood from his face and muttered, 'No one can take away my things...'

The genie in the bottle licked his lips.

‘I…’ Mason Lyle looked down at his bloody palm.

Every fingernail is filled with meat paste. He seemed to have used pliers to break off her teeth, and tore her gums with his nails.

He seems...

What did he do?

The benefactor is above...

Mason Lyle covered his face and sobbed in the blood and mud.

Fear ripped through his heart, waking up the furious man like a knife.

What did he do?

he…

Kill someone.

Kill a woman who may have an unusual background.

She brought no servants.

That's why he's still sitting here and not in a cell.

what do I do…

Mason Lyle suddenly turned his head and looked at the narrow bottle on the table.

The monster inside seemed to be waiting for him.

‘…I can’t die. ’

He took a few deep breaths and forced himself to calm down - Mason Lyle, you have encountered wind and waves and survived every time.

Your destiny is destined to be extraordinary.

'I can't die. ’ He rubbed his face and stepped on the soft internal organs, ‘I can’t die. ’

he said.

'Tell me how to survive...I know you can. ’

Goblin: 'One more deal, right? ’

‘One more, another! Any more will do! Tell me quickly! I absolutely cannot die! I can't let the police catch me! ’

The goblin was a little embarrassed: ‘Look. She came to you, maybe she told a friend or relative...even if there were no servants, her disappearance from your circus would never be hidden - well, if she didn't tell anyone...Mason Lyle, do you think, you Can you escape it? ’

Mason Lyle slowly shook his head.

It's just a matter of time.

If the woman was widowed, the police would also trace him through bank transaction records.

He considers himself a tough guy, but even a tough guy can't stand the tricks of those black men...

He cannot die.

‘Find a way! ’

Mason Lyle growled. That originally handsome face now looked extremely mean and ferocious: ‘Find a way! You said it! Can be traded! All for you! for you…'

The goblin grinned, revealing his sharp teeth.

'Okay, human. ’

it says.

'Can I do you a favor...um...have you ever heard of a "ritualist"? ’

Mason Lyle was at a loss.

The goblin rephrased: ‘Witch. ’

He finally nodded.

'You're not talking about the gypsy witch who wears colorful patchwork robes, peacock feathers on her head, and her face is painted... right? ’ Mason Lyle tentatively said: ‘I heard people say that there seem to be some big shots who can “spell”…’

‘Is this true? ’

The goblin smiled and said: 'Of course, Mason Lyle. That does exist... yes, witchcraft does exist. ’

The man couldn't believe it.

but…

What does this have to do with me?

'If you master this power, someone will be able to pardon your 'manslaughter'...' The goblin approached the bottle wall, and the curved body of the bottle distorted its already terrifying face even more weirdly: 'I want to bet. Put it? ’

it says.

'The great power you master after transcending the mortal world is enough for you to find a person... or organization to protect you. Mason Lyle, want to take a gamble? ’

The goblin pointed at himself.

'Look. Although I am greedy and hateful, I have no conscience. But I never lie or break my promise - you make a wish, I fulfill it and take away the bargain...'

'Is it right? ’

Malice spread slowly in its eyes.

Mason Lyle breathed out animal breath, raised the bottle in front of his eyes, and said uncertainly: 'How can you guarantee that I can definitely learn the spell? ’

‘I can vouch for that with my own soul. ' It said: 'As long as you complete a "ritual" as I said, you will have the opportunity to touch the "code"... Of course, you must ensure that you stay within the scope of the ritual - this tent. ’

Mason Lyle stared straight into the bottle: 'Still a soul, right? ’

'certainly. ’ The goblin nodded with satisfaction: ‘That’s of no use to you. I guarantee that after the ceremony is completed, there will definitely be a chance in the ceremony... Oh, maybe you can't succeed once, you can try a few more times. ’

it says.

‘You seem to have many “children”. ’

the goblin urged.

‘Want to take a gamble? Before they find someone missing and come knocking on your door... you might be able to leave London and become a fugitive. ’

'Or, otherworldly. Aren't you waiting for this day? ’

‘Don’t you think that this path is easier to succeed than being a circus owner? ’

He cannot be a fugitive.

Because this means that everything he has worked for these years will be wiped out.

Mason Lyle didn't have a choice.

But there was an unwarranted confidence in his heart.

He believed that he would successfully survive this crisis just as he had avoided the rats that year.

He cannot give his wealth to others...

Absolutely not.

So do goblins.

That's all his!

his!

‘Tell me what I should do. ’

The goblin raised his sharp nails and tapped his head: 'The ritual requires a crazy soul... In addition to other materials, this is an important part... Of course, it is not as important as me. ’

‘Because that’s a ritual that can only be used by fairies. ’

Crazy…

soul?

Mason Lyle prays all year round and is no stranger to the word "soul."

But…

It is difficult for him to say that he believes in the existence of "souls".

Things that cannot be seen or touched.

It's far behind compared to gold pounds - at least gold pounds can buy souls, but souls can't be exchanged for them.

‘Yes, yes, it is too difficult for you mortals to understand what a soul is. ’ The goblin blinked: ‘But business is also getting better. ’

Mason Lyle frowned: ‘Tell me, monster. I don’t have much time…’

‘Make one. ’

it answered.

‘Make one with your own hands, the ritual needs such an “influence”. ’

The goblin told Mason Lyle that creatures like humans are born to create crazy souls.

It's just that some people don't know that they have such ability.

‘You are born with it…everyone has it. ’

The goblin's voice echoed in his ears like an evil whisper.

Make a…

Crazy soul.

crazy?

When Halida squatted in front of the pipe and washed her face, Mr. Shaggy, who had wiped his butt thoroughly, had just come out from behind the tent.

Sister Bodelli was taking out a round target to try out darts.

It was cold in the morning.

Mr. Mason Lyle got up unusually early and came out of the tent at the same time as them.

This is not common.

"Good day! Sir!"

"Good day father!"

"Come on, sir! I'll lay out a blanket for you!"

The circus members greeted each other in twos and threes.

Mason Lyle responded to these children with a tolerant and gentle smile.

Then.

Walked straight towards Halida.