Lord of Mysteries: Return of the Stars!

Tonight's affairs were mostly settled, but there was still one thing left to do.

He wielded the Chain of Order and gave the Son of Chaos a hard lash before finally leaving the Hall of Stars in satisfaction.

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West District Police Station. Reed, smoking a cigarette, walked into the station with a spring in his step.

As soon as he stepped through the station's doors, he heard the shouting of the three criminals from tonight, along with the sound of whips cracking.

They had broken into a baron's home late at night in a group, armed with weapons. Not only had they stolen money, but they also had plans to murder the baron, crimes more than enough to send them to the gallows.

The whipping was merely to make them understand a simple truth in advance: in Loen, nobles are not a group to be easily offended.

"You worked hard tonight. You did a great job."

Inspector John smiled as he walked over and patted Reed on the shoulder. He had also stayed late at the station tonight for this very case.

A baron, coupled with a rather influential viscount, no matter how small the case, extra care had to be taken, especially when it involved an attempt on a baron's life.

Reed smiled and said, "Luck was on my side tonight."

"Goddess above, may luck always be with you."

Reed also made a Crimson Moon sign over his chest. "The merciful goddess will surely bless every devout believer."

After chatting a bit more, Reed headed to the interrogation room where the three criminals were being held. He still had to wrap up the case and compile the files.

The first criminal who jumped off the building was curled up in a corner, hugging his knees, terrified. "An evil spirit! It was an evil spirit! Just now, an evil spirit attacked me!"

"What evil spirit?"

Reed showed some interest, lit another cigarette, and lazily crossed his legs on the table.

"An evil spirit is an evil spirit! It definitely broke my legs! Otherwise, I could've gotten away!"

"Heh, then that must have been the goddess punishing people like you," Reed chuckled, unconcerned.

The man said no more, likely afraid that the strange things that had happened to him tonight were indeed punishments from the Evernight Goddess.

"I felt the power of that evil spirit too!" another man with fractured legs said nervously.

Reed raised his right foot and tapped the table, blowing out a smoke ring. "Even if there really was an evil spirit, with the crimes you committed tonight, hell would be the perfect place for you to keep it company."

A nearby officer swung his whip and said, "Cooperate with us honestly. That way, you'll suffer a little less, and we can go home and rest sooner."

Soon, the three criminals confessed to all the crimes they had committed that night and admitted they were instructed by Andrew. They also revealed that Andrew was now hiding in a bar in the Backlund Bridge District.

"Good. Now you can enjoy a wonderful night, even though there's only an hour left until dawn."

The officer hung the whip on the wall. The black whip's tip still held a small piece of flesh and was dripping blood.

"Let me see the compiled file."

Reed had an officer organize the file, looked it over twice himself, and, finding no errors, had it archived.

"Time for a cup of coffee to stay alert."

Reed extinguished his cigarette, put down his legs, got up, and left the interrogation room. He went to Inspector John's office and poured himself a cup of coffee from the southern continent.

Then he sat comfortably on the sofa, waiting for the morning shift officers to take over.

At eight o'clock, Reed opened his sleepy eyes, stretched lazily, and left the station.

On his way home, he passed by Baron Campbell's house again. When he walked to the spot where they caught the fleeing criminal last night, he paused.

This area was wide open, with no obstructions. So why had that person suddenly fractured both legs last night?

He vaguely remembered that man's leg injuries, completely shattered fractures that only blunt force trauma could have caused.

A wandering evil spirit?

A chill crept up Reed's spine. He instinctively scanned the surroundings. The sun was shining brightly, everything looked fine. He exhaled gently and touched his chest four times, tracing the symbol of the Crimson Moon.

"Praise the goddess."

…

"Something so big happened, and you didn't let anyone inform me?"

"Do you not consider me a friend anymore?"

"Or do you think that because your Campbell family has fallen, I would distance myself from you, my good friend?"

In the living room, on the sofa, Hastur looked awkwardly at the black-haired, blue-eyed young man sitting across from him.

Greg Negan, formerly the original host's best friend.

The two of them were friends from a young age, like brothers during their school days, until the original host moved from Queen's District to the West District, and their contact gradually decreased.

When he was short on money, Hastur had thought of this friend but never considered asking him for help. Instead, he chose to reach out to the more distant Glaint.

Part of it was the original host's subconscious desire not to trouble this close friend, and part was Hastur's own hesitation to reconnect so easily with a best friend.

After all, being close for so many years, it would be easy to notice anything unusual about each other.

"I'm really angry right now, Hastur. Don't you think you owe me an explanation?"

"Could it be that in your eyes, I, Greg Negan, am not a friend worth associating with?"

"Or do you think that guy Glaint is more suitable to be your friend than I am?"

Greg grew more and more furious as he spoke. If someone hadn't told him, he wouldn't even have known that a thug tried to harm his good friend last night!

"Have some tea and calm down first."

Hastur handed him a cup of marquis black tea, then said in a gentle tone, "Greg, no one is more suitable to be my friend than you. I've always been proud of our friendship."

"Hmph!"

Greg's stern expression softened a little. He took a sip of the marquis black tea and waited for what Hastur would say next.

"You know, I've always hoped to become a noble capable of handling everything independently, just like you, so young yet already able to manage all aspects of your family's affairs."

"The reason I temporarily sought help from Glaint was simply because I didn't want our friendship to be tainted by money. You wouldn't want me to lose what little pride I have left, right?"

"Greg, our friendship won't be affected by such a thing. Would you really resent me as a friend just because I didn't come to you for help?"

With just three short sentences, most of Greg's anger had already dissipated.

Especially that final rhetorical question, it almost made him doubt whether he was the one less committed to their friendship.

Their friendship didn't need things like this to prove itself.

Thinking of this, Greg said with a hint of apology, "Hastur, I didn't consider your feelings."

Hastur waved his hand generously and said, "It's fine. We're best friends, after all."

"That's right, we're best friends!" Greg laughed, and Hastur also smiled.

Although Greg's sudden visit had caught him off guard, luckily, as a lawyer, he was indeed very persuasive when it came to convincing others.

After this matter was settled, Greg began asking about Hastur's recent life. Hastur could only try to talk about the better parts.

For example, that he was studying law seriously, had received praise from Professor Wayne, and was going to court to learn how law demonstrates justice…

Greg frowned after listening for a while.

"Studying law and understanding national affairs is certainly a good thing, but you're not seriously thinking of becoming a lawyer, are you?"

"I do have that idea," Hastur admitted without hiding it.

"Hastur, that's not good. You're a noble. In the future, you certainly won't remain just a baron. You should aim for a broader future."

"Greg, I'm more determined than you think when it comes to restoring the Campbell family's glory. Becoming a lawyer doesn't mean I'll abandon my noble status, it's just a small personal interest."

Greg's expression softened again and he asked tentatively, "Do you need me to prepare a law office for you in Queen's District?"

He originally wanted to just give him a law office directly, but worried that Hastur would see it as an insult to their friendship, so he changed his wording.

Hastur shook his head. "Queen's District isn't a suitable place to open a law office. I prefer Hillston District. The commerce there is the most prosperous, and that's where lawyers are really needed."

"No problem, let me take care of that. Don't be polite with me anymore."

Greg made the decision on the spot, not allowing Hastur to refuse.

He had already thought it through, once Hastur opened his office in Hillston District, he would help bring in a large number of business cases.

With their family's commercial investments in Hillston, Hastur might even need to hire a few senior lawyers just to handle the workload.

"All right then."

Hastur sighed and didn't refuse Greg's kindness again.

Actually, he really wanted to try restoring the Campbell family's former glory through his own efforts, rather than taking the easy road offered by his friend.

But there was no helping it. Nobles helping each other was entirely normal, especially with a friend whose background was truly powerful.

Greg Negan, his father was the Duke of Negan, leader of the Conservative Party, the biggest landowning noble after the king himself, and the brother of the current Prime Minister.

One word from him could truly save someone ten years, or even a lifetime, of hard work.

Sigh, this feeling of being "kept" really made one feel less and less motivated the more they thought about it.

"Hastur, there's one more thing I need to remind you of. Lady Germani is indeed nice, but you're still young and unmarried, so you should be a little more cautious."

"??!" Three big question marks flashed across Hastur's mind.

Wait a minute, he had only spoken with Lady Germani once!

These past few days, whenever he went to the court in the afternoon to observe trials, he had even made an effort to avoid her. The only letter he sent clearly stated his position.

But now, judging by Greg's tone, it sounded like he already had some improper relationship with Lady Germani?

How could someone's good name be tarnished out of nowhere like this?!