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*****
"Thirty is like a wolf, forty is like a tiger!"
George, eyes shut tight, listened to the commotion from the adjacent bed and couldn't help but complain internally.
Indeed, this couple, approaching their forties, were the parents of his clone in this life.
Although this infant body only possessed six months of memories, George had gleaned a significant amount of useful information from everything the baby had seen and heard during that time.
First, through the conversations of his parents, relatives, and friends, he had roughly deciphered the local language and could understand the investment discussion his parents had just concluded.
Second, precisely because he had figured out the language, he had learned about his surroundings from the conversations over the past half-year.
The place he was currently in was Tingen City, a small northern city in the Ahowa County of the Loen Kingdom, on the Northern Continent.
His parents belonged to the middle class of this small city. They had been married for ten years, and only this year did they finally have their first child—him.
Finally, his parents both believed in the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery.
"No wonder it took ten years to have a child; it seems there was a reason."
Five minutes later, the noise from the next bed ceased; evidently, the battle had ended.
One hour later, sensing that his parents had fallen asleep, George quietly rose. He leaped lightly onto the headboard, reached out, and tapped each of his parents on the head, physically forcing them into a deeper slumber.
The purpose of this was to ensure they wouldn't wake up before dawn.
After doing all this, he returned to the window, grabbed the small blanket that was originally meant to cover him, and jumped directly out.
He wasn't leaving this home for good, of course. For now, this home was a good place to hide his identity, and he wasn't in a rush to abandon it.
Besides, having borrowed their child's body as a vessel, he felt the need to repay them somehow.
So, his true purpose in going out now was to eliminate a hidden danger and avenge the original owner of this body.
It must be known that the vessels his divided soul occupied were basically lives that had already died.
This baby was no exception.
In other words, if his soul hadn't occupied this flesh, Jack and Chris would have entered the room to find not a sleeping baby, but a breathless, dead one.
Through the baby's memories, George knew this wasn't a natural death—it was murder.
The killer, wearing a tuxedo and a clown mask, had climbed in through the window and used a special power to stop the baby's heart, disguising it as a natural cardiac arrest.
After finishing the deed, he had quietly left through the window.
"This direction!"
Wrapping the small blanket around his waist to cover the little ding-dong exposed by his split-crotch pants, George sniffed the air and chased toward the west of the city.
Although he couldn't use tracking spells or lock onto the killer with spiritual power, he still possessed a physical body as strong as a god.
Even relying solely on his sense of smell, he could easily track the scent of the killer who had been gone for nearly an hour.
On the rooftops of Tingen City, George left behind trails of afterimages.
Soon, after crossing half the city, he found the killer.
"Interesting. Is this the power system of this world?"
After locating the killer, George didn't reveal himself immediately. Instead, he hid on the roof of a distant house, observing with his superior vision.
He wasn't worried about the opponent's strength; it was just that the killer was currently fighting others. And it wasn't an ordinary fight—it involved supernatural powers.
So, he planned to watch the show for a bit and get a general idea of what the supernatural powers in this world looked like.
In his parents' and relatives' conversations, he hadn't heard any discussions about supernatural forces or events, which suggested that ordinary people likely had no access to these things.
If the killer was taken out by that group, it would save him the trouble of showing his face.
In the clearing of a distant warehouse, the killer in the clown mask was engaging a group of six people.
He could summon fire, use paper figurines as substitutes to block damage, and shoot air bullets out of thin air with power no less than actual bullets.
The six people fighting him weren't ordinary either.
Some could use poetry to influence the enemy, some had powerful physical bodies with extraordinary close-combat abilities, and others wielded firearms with precise shooting.
Under the siege of six people, although the Clown-masked killer was tough, he quickly fell to a disadvantage.
However, just as he was controlled by the singing and about to be shot dead, a miserable, piercing howl suddenly erupted from the warehouse ahead of them, accompanied by fluctuations of evil energy.
It was precisely because of this scream that the Clown-masked killer was shocked out of the singing's control. He barely dodged the fatal hit, though a bullet still struck his stomach.
Taking advantage of the disturbance at the warehouse, the Clown-masked killer clutched his stomach and retreated rapidly, disappearing into the darkness in the blink of an eye.
"Damn, these Nighthawks from the Church of the Evernight Goddess are really hard to deal with!"
After escaping into the darkness, the Clown-masked killer didn't leave the area immediately. Instead, he wiped his hand over his left arm, utilizing his Magician's damage transfer ability to move the gunshot wound from his stomach to his left arm.
At the same time, he pulled a crystal pendant from his cuff and performed a rapid divination.
"Fortunately, there's still a chance."
The sounds from the warehouse indicated that Ray Bieber, who was hiding inside, had lost control and become a monster. A battle with those Nighthawks was inevitable.
Hiding nearby, he could wait to reap the benefits of the conflict and snatch back the Antigonus family notebook once both sides were exhausted.
Just to be safe, he had performed a divination. The result indicated danger, but not great danger.
Sure enough, things went as he expected. The warehouse door exploded outward with a bang.
Ray Bieber, who had completely transformed into a humanoid monster over two meters tall, his body flowing with grayish-white rotting slime, launched a frenzied attack on the six Nighthawks.
However, before he could feel happy about things developing according to his plan, he suddenly heard a very immature and resentful voice behind him.
"Give me back my life... Give me back my life..."
His body shuddered instantly. He flung his right hand violently, turning a paper strip into a flaming whip, and lashed out viciously behind him as he turned.
"Impossible!"
When he saw the scene behind him, his pupils constricted, and his face filled with a terrified and incredulous expression.
His flame whip hadn't hit anyone because the figure was much, much smaller than he had anticipated; the whip had passed directly over the target's head.
Actually, missing the target wasn't what terrified him. What terrified him was that the person was an infant standing upright—the very infant he had killed with his own hands over an hour ago.
"Surprise, surprise! Bet you didn't expect that!"
George smiled. His figure flashed, appearing behind the Clown-masked killer again, and he delivered a hand chop that knocked the man unconscious.
He didn't kill him, as he still needed to extract some important intelligence from this murderer.
(End of Chapter)