"What is the containment method? What will happen if the containment gets out of control?"

"The way to contain it is to wrap it up when not in use, and don't point it at the outside world for a long time. Otherwise, it will spontaneously pull all nearby objects and even living people into the mirror world, and if it is pulled in like this, it will be difficult to find a way to return.

Normal world."

"Father John, can you give me an estimate of the price of this relic?"

Shade thought about it and found out.

"You want to sell?"

The old man glanced at Shade:

"Although it's only clerical grade, the containment method is simple and the effect is very practical. If you want to sell it to me, I'll pay 1,200 pounds."

Old John can negotiate the price here. Since he asked for 1,200 pounds, the upper limit should be around 1,400 pounds. From this point of view, this relic can really be regarded as one of the more valuable ones that Shade got.

"I don't want to sell it yet..."

"You won't be of much use if you keep it, why don't you sell it to me and use the gold pounds you get to exchange it for a practical thaumaturgy."

"Oh, Father John, I still have to think about it."

Shade put away the mirror, and the old man shook his head helplessly:

"Since I won't sell it, I will charge you for the appraisal fee."

"Of course, but before that, we can talk about the special blood."

Including the reward for the investigation mission that has not yet been settled with Granny Cassandra, Shade has now obtained two types of blood. Therefore, he no longer has an obsessive need for other blood, but if it is really valuable and

If the price is right, he will consider buying it.

"The bargain this time was bought by me myself."

Old John bent down and took out a tin-sealed Erlenmeyer glass bottle from the cabinet under the counter. Inside was a dark red liquid. The liquid was not completely still, and small bubbles were actually being produced inside it.

"Dad, let's talk about the price first. I won't buy it if it's more than 1,000 pounds."

He only had in hand the two thousand he earned from completing the work of transmitting Gray Eagle information, and he could not spend more.

"Don't worry, I said I will consider your financial strength. This is very cheap. First, listen to what kind of blood this is."

The old man reassured Shade:

"Borbo Brando, who was born in 1384 of the Sixth Era Universal Calendar, was struck by lightning 42 times in his life, about once a year on average, so that almost all his relatives and friends died. Until he was 43 years old."

"He was finally struck by lightning and died?"

"No, after being struck by lightning, he hit his head due to excessive surprise, and then died of excessive blood loss."

Dad said, shaking the small bottle in his hand:

"After his death, he was buried in the mountainous area southwest of Kasenlik. On the day of his burial, the cemetery was split open by lightning. After that, whenever it rained, the coffin would be struck by lightning, and the frequency was getting higher and higher.

So later, that cemetery was shrouded in thunderstorms all year round, so the church had to seal off that area, which is also the famous 'Brando Lightning Strike Cemetery' area."

"Who did this gentleman from five hundred years ago offend?"

Shade pointed to the sky cautiously, and Old John shook his head equally cautiously:

"Only God knows. However, I have his blood in my hand. He was struck by lightning every year during his lifetime, which attracted the interest of the magicians of that era, so I have this bottle of blood. Unfortunately, the research on blood has

It did not allow people to understand the reason why he was struck by lightning all the time, so this bottle of blood was passed down. But I want to remind you that even if it is carefully preserved, this bottle of blood will inevitably deteriorate for more than 500 years."

He handed out the small bottle in his hand and asked Shade to check:

"Although this blood is very interesting, it is actually of no use, and it is difficult to preserve as a collection, so I bought it."

"Just like chicken ribs, they have no taste when eaten, and it would be a pity to throw them away."

"No, I never feel sorry for throwing away the chicken ribs."

Old John said.

"Well, your life seems really rich."

"Don't be sarcastic. I'm not wasting food. I often feed the stray animals in the alley with the discarded food. Why are we bringing this topic up again? Let's get down to business. The fixed price is 50 pounds. You know, this is

Blood from five hundred years ago!"

He used a very exaggerated tone.

"At the same time, it can also be regarded as rubbish from five hundred years ago."

Shade looked at the bottle of blood under the gas lamp and was curious about how the bubbles inside appeared:

"30 pounds."

"Then you might as well grab it, 45."

Shade put the bottle on the counter, put his right arm on the counter, and tilted his body to look at Old John:

"If I really go to grab it, I won't just grab 20 pounds. 35."

"42."

"37."

"40."

"39."

"Thirty-nine pounds 10 shillings."

"Thirty-nine pounds 5 shillings."

"39"

Shade waved his hands hurriedly:

"Let's not negotiate the price over a few shillings. Including the appraisal fee just now, how about I give you a total of 42 pounds?"

"You really know how to negotiate prices."

The old man whispered, but he meant it was okay.

However, Xia De was not in a hurry to give money. He had another thing:

"Dad John, I want to ask you something."

"Ask me for advice? It's not cheap. You know, the Priory doesn't bargain."

This was the first time that he took the initiative to mention the "Guiding Light Hermitage" in front of Shade.

Shade nodded:

"It's about the worship of the Twin Gods. I learned about a folk song or poem that may be a ritual. I want you to help me interpret it."

He repeated the strange ballad he had just heard from Professor Manning. Dad thought for a while:

"It doesn't sound like a ritual, it sounds like a method of making alchemical items."

"How did you hear this?"

"Different people have different interpretations of this kind of knowledge hidden in folk songs or legends. This is just my interpretation."

Although Shade still thinks this is a ritual, Old John’s idea can also be tried:

"If I entrust you to help make this alchemical item, how long will it take? How long will it take?"

"The information you gave is too little. I can only use the materials on hand to try to make a trial work. I'll charge you 1 pound for the craftsmanship fee. It's just some leftover materials. There is no need for material fees. But I can't guarantee that it will definitely work.

After all, this is the only ballad you gave me."

In other words, for these three transactions tonight, Shade spent a total of 43 pounds:

"Okay, when will I come to get it?"

"After finishing your business in two hours, I can close the business today."

Shade calculated the time:

"Okay, I'll pick it up at half past ten in the evening. Just in time, I'm going outside the city to buy some undead materials."

"Where's Copus?"

Old John asked with drooped eyelids.

"You know him too?"

"I've done a few businesses. I don't want to speak ill of people behind their backs, but that person really looks like a real corpse."

Mr. Copps' materials store is located in an unknown country cemetery on the northern outskirts of Tobesk. Dorothy once brought Shad there once. This gentleman has a very weird temper. The store is only open at night, and

Regardless of whether you are a stranger or a regular visitor, you will definitely be "attacked" by him after entering the cemetery.

He took a carriage from Old John's pawn shop, got off at the edge of the city and walked out of the city. When he arrived at the cemetery on the outskirts of the city in the hazy night, it was already past nine o'clock in the evening. The autumn night in the suburbs seemed better than in the city.

It's colder, put on a mask, step on the dead branches on the ground and enter the cemetery shrouded in night fog. You will see a transparent figure floating in the air in the fog swept by the night wind, with a painful wail.

Floated over.

"Evil spirit?"
To be continued...