Body of a woman found near the shore of Ganges.. clothes were tattered so does her body!!

Burman was puzzled who in the world would do such heinous crime of murdering a girl in such cruel way.

then he saw....  star mark with four planets..


All of sudden..he was terrified.. They came back..

A ripping sound was heard when Adrian removed the fake mustache below his nose. He exercised his mouth in front of a mirror, then threw the mustache away before keeping the windbreaker, the glasses, and the wide brim hat in his small suitcase. After adjusting his clothes in the mirror, he left the washroom. With that, a bloated man in a big windbreaker transformed into a handsome young man in a suit.
Adrian took a look around after leaving the mall, then left in his car that was parked along the street. The reason he disguised himself at the detective agency was mainly due to what would happen in the future, and he did not want the private detective to figure it out. Perhaps it would not affect him in a bad way, but it would still be hidden trouble, thus it was best to handle everything perfectly. Besides, disguising was an easy thing to do.
With that, all he could do now was to wait. Since Dean Wilson had his own way of finding people, and the clues provided were sufficient and clear, he should be able to find that woman.
Initially, Adrian wanted to provide more clues since he came across a lot of information about JK Rowling in his past life, but he mostly just glanced through them. Although he could remember everything he read, it was easier to recall those that he was more familiar with, whereas it was tougher to recall those he had only glanced at, which would require a long time to remember them. He began recollecting them a few days ago, but after a lot of effort, the most useful pieces of information he obtained were her birth date and that she graduated from the University of Exeter.
'That's enough for now. Since I have a few more years, I'll just let Dean take his time. For all I know, I might remember something more about her too,' Adrian thought to himself as he drove. He initially had the thought of copying the 'Harry Potter' series too, but he eventually dropped the idea because it was too difficult to handle.
Firstly, he was an American at the moment. It would be fine if he were to shoot British-styled films, but if he were to write seven British-styled novels, he would not be able to predict how the British people would feel about it. As such, it was best not to do it.
'What? What if the setting is changed to America? Alright, if a school castle of witchcraft and wizardry with a history of over 1000 years were to tower on a vast plain in Minnesota… Wait, is it really going to be a school of witchcraft and wizardry that teaches magic, not a native American shaman school that teaches sorcery?'
'Alright, let's try another perspective. More than 300 years ago, a group of wizards traveled across the Atlantic Ocean to America, and built a school of witchcraft and wizardry in a forest in Maryland… Wait, if Nicolas Flamel can live for 600 years, it doesn't make sense that the four founders have a shorter life than him, right? Okay, I'll neglect their age, and assume that their lives are slightly longer than normal people, but if there are already two devils and two wars in the span of 300 years, which parent will be willing to send their children to the school?'
Adrian could not be bothered to do something that would be a pain in the neck. Moreover, he was not a professional writer, and it would also not be worth it if he were to have co-writers like the other three novels he had. Most importantly, he was more familiar with the film and the script, whereas he only read a few of the novels in the series, let alone the original version that was written.
It was best to let Rowling write them herself. Additionally, it was not easy being a single mother—this had nothing to do with Adrian being a hypocrite, because it was simply one of the things he wanted to do since he had the chance to be reborn, and he felt that he might as well jump off the Golden Gate Bridge if he dared not do this.
All in all, it would be fine as long as Adrian could be the first to get the novels' adaptation rights, or he could also get someone else to write them since it would not be too late. It was not a billion dollars Rowling earned from the series that he valued, because if everything were to go smoothly in the future, he could earn more than that amount. Instead, he valued the industrial chain that was a result of the series—games, films, related products, and theme parks! They would complement his media company greatly.
He rested for a while after returning to the hotel he was staying at, then dialed a number on his phone. "Hey, my love, guess where I am now?"
"You're in London?" Kate was surprised. "No wonder my sister was smiling at me like that when she asked me to pick up the phone."
"Is that so? She didn't recognize my voice at all." Adrian teased as he pulled his tie downward. "Clearly, she did it on purpose, so you must punish her."
"Forget it, she's my sister." Kate sighed on purpose, then asked, "Are you done filming your new film? I remember you saying that it'll take at least two months, and it might be longer."
"Of course I'm done with it, I only spent roughly 7 weeks. Aren't you familiar with how I do things?" Adrian laughed. "Don't you want me to finish earlier so that I can come see you as soon as possible?"
The two of them conversed for some time on the phone until Kate sighed again. "Oh, I'm sorry, Eddy. I'm afraid that I won't be free for a few days because I have a few exams in school."
"It's alright, I have something to handle in London too," Adrian responded smilingly. "When you graduate in a few days, you won't get to leave me."
"Are you so confident?" Kate sounded rather hostile.
"Yes." Adrian was unconcerned.
"We'll see then. I'm going to read, goodbye." Kate scoffed, then hung up.
On the other hand, Adrian shook his head and chuckled. He looked through some documents for a while, then called someone else. Entrusting a private detective to locate Rowling was only a part of his plan, which would only be complete if the other part was done too.
=============================
"There shouldn't be a problem, Mr. Adrian. The information provided is very detailed, so we'll just have to go through the formalities at the related departments tomorrow," A man who was sitting on a couch mentioned after looking through some documents.
"Thank you, Chris. This couldn't have been sorted so quickly without your help, and I must say that Brent recommended a good lawyer to me." Adrian smiled and nodded.
"I'll bring the documents to the study, so please wait for a while." Chris stood up.
"Alright, no problem." Adrian watched him leave, then began pondering after he lifted his cup of coffee.
Adrian was currently establishing a benevolent fund for single mothers, and the reason behind this was very clear. It would not matter even if he could not find Rowling, and he would simply take this as an act of charity. In any case, it was extremely common for wealthy people in western countries to be involved in charity whether it was a sincere act or not because it was very helpful in shaping one's image, and charity dinners were also important events for socializing.
Therefore, before Adrian arrived in London, he made some arrangements through Waddell Brent, a British film producer connected with Bosworth Film Company who had also worked with him during his first film production—he was also the one who introduced him to Dean, the private investigator.
'My plan should be foolproof now. Although so much has to be done, the industrial chain will be worth it,' Adrian thought to himself, then turned to look at the other side of the long couch. A pair of bright eyes were looking curiously at him from behind the armrest.
They belonged to a little girl who was roughly 2 years old. She had slightly wavy long brown hair that was tied into a ponytail, and her chubby face made her look extremely adorable. Adrian smiled at her as he recognized that she was Chris' daughter, and he saw her a few times before, but only caught a glimpse of her.
Unfortunately, she did not seem to appreciate his friendliness, thus she stuck her tongue out and made a silly face at him.
Adrian shook his head and chuckled. It was then when a woman's voice was heard coming from outside the living room. "Baby girl, where are you?"
Before the little girl could reply to her, a young woman appeared at the living room entrance and was looking at her angrily. "How many times have I told you not to cause trouble when daddy has a guest?"
The woman later looked at Adrian apologetically. "I'm sorry, Mr. Adrian. I hope that the little fella didn't disturb you."
"It's okay, Madam Jacqueline, we finished our business already." Adrian stood up, then looked at the little girl who was running toward her mom. "Your daughter's adorable."
"Yes, she is, but she's also very playful. She likes giving us trouble." Even though the woman said so, it was clear through her smile that she doted on her daughter. "Have you greeted our guest, Emma?"
The little girl blinked her eyes at Adrian for some time without saying a word, then Adrian adjusted his collar, and reached his hand out to her as though he was really socializing with someone. "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Emma."
However, the little girl looked away and buried her head into her mom's shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Adrian, the little fella's quite… Shy," Jacqueline explained helplessly.
"It's okay, it's normal for ladies to be shy," Adrian replied casually.
Chris walked out of his study at that moment. He was slightly startled when he saw what was going on in the living room, then he handed a document to Adrian. "This is another document that you need, and if everything is okay, please sign at the bottom. Remember to bring it along tomorrow, and my wife and I will meet you at the firm at 9 o'clock in the morning."
"Great, this will be done more efficiently with Jacqueline's help." Adrian nodded. Chris' wife, Jacqueline, was also an incredible lawyer. It was exactly because of the both of them that Adrian was able to settle everything so well in just a few days.
After skimming through the new document, he signed it, then bid them farewell. "That's all then. I'll be leaving now, see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow." The husband and wife sent him to the door, and the little girl who had been watching everything curiously suddenly made a silly face at him again. They all laughed.
"It's actually her way of expressing her liking toward you," Chris tried to explain for his daughter.
"I understand." Adrian walked out with a smile.


In the ‘90s era, Adrian Cowell was just a rich young man living it up in Los Angeles who had spent years in indulgence and often caused trouble. Unable to allow his behavior to continue, his parents changed their will before their passing and he was no longer able to live as extravagantly as he did before. However, Adrian's fate took a turn one night while trying to fix his bedside lamp which led to Zhang Haoxuan, a man from the future who had time-traveled after being intoxicated, to possess his body.
Assuming his new identity as ‘Adrian’, he utilizes his absurd memory for films in his former life as Zhang Haoxuan, as well as Adrian’s wealth and connections, to replicate films that have been produced in the future — determined to dominate the Hollywood scene.
Watch Adrian as he rises to be the king of Hollywood, a figure who will be envied by many!


"There are three kinds of rewards this time. You can choose one of them." Dixie said to Frank, "The three titles of Batman, the detective master, the interrogation master, the language master, you choose one."
"Title?" Frank pinched the face of Dixie, pulled back and forth and said, "You think it's useful to play games, what are the specific functions of talking about them?"
"Stupid human, let go of me." Dixie said with small claws to resist Frank's pull, "Detective master is the detective ability of Batman, and the interrogation master is to get Batman's interrogation ability, the language master is the same as Bruce to learn seventeen languages, you choose one."
"Does it have to be chosen?" Frank let go of the big face and rubbing big meow belly full of meat said, "It must be a master of language."
Batman is fluent in 17 languages: English, French, German, Russian, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch, Greek, Latin, Chinese (including Mandarin and Cantonese), Japanese, Korean, Arabic, Hebrew, Hindi, Sanskrit.
These languages basically cover the language of communication in the major countries of the world. With this ability, Frank will not only travel around the world without language restrictions but also more important.
Compared to detective masters, these qualities of interrogation masters sound cool, but they are used less in real life. If Frank is living abroad, he may be interested in becoming a detective master, opening a detective office, and handling the case.
However, the existence of private detectives is totally prohibited in China so the detective office cannot open, and even if it does, it is estimated that it is also to accept the original commission to investigate juniors, parents are hired to track their children whether puppy loves this messy thing.
The language master is different.
Think about it, people who are proficient in 17 languages can't find it in the world, and Bruce's proficiency means perfect communication, and it will read and write. Basically, it looks like the locals.
Even if Frank does not go abroad in the future, he can also be a translator. That industry calculates the amount of money per word. It is still easy to earn extra money in the future.
In addition, even if he does not earn extra money, he can speak Japanese. It's worth Frank choosing the title of a master of the language. After watching small movies, you don't have to worry about not understanding what people are saying.
But wait, it seems that small movies don't need to be understood, anyway, they are fast-moving to the key place.
Cough.
Seeing that Frank chose the ability of the language master, Dixie stretched out his claws and scratched Frank's forehead, and then countless information flooded into Frank's brain, each storage. The nerve unit of memory began to overload, causing Frank to become dizzy.
It took more than twenty minutes for Frank to respond slowly, only to see him open his mouth and say a series of American English, is the pronunciation of authentic Americans. This is followed by a series of British English. This time London accent, and then there is a series of languages from all over the world, including Sanskrit, a rare language that can speak fluently.
Pronunciation approaching native language level, and no crosstalk at all!
Do you want to be a translator in the future?  Frank thought, after all, the translation industry is much more popular than the doctor industry in China now.
At least, the translation of sentences is wrong, there is no worry about life.
Frank was thinking about it. He saw Dixie lying on the tea table in the living room and looked at him with a contemptuous look. It looked like he was saying that you were dying.
"Have you finished your excitement? If you have finished your excitement, there's something else to tell you." Dixie walked gracefully and then jumped on Frank's knee.
"What else?" asked Frank.
"There is still a car."
Dixie said, "At the request of the guest Bruce Wayne, the Wuling Hongguang Batmobile will be left to you, do you want it?"
Well, Bruce actually put down the Wuling Hongguang Batmobile to him?!
No wonder he said that he had a gift for him. He didn't expect to leave the Batmobile. Also, this Wuling Hongguang Batmobile is probably the ugliest of the bats of all ages. Bruce is estimated to bring back the life of ash, but it is better to give it to him.
However, Frank hesitated for a long time, or the export said, "I don't want it, can you send it back."
"You have turned this wealthy?" Dixie looked at Frank with a serious look. "That is a luxury car worth billions Yuan, only one in the world."
"It's really because the value is too high, so I can't ask for it."  Frank looked at Dixie and said, "Although Wuling Hongguang Batmobile can't see anything on the outside when it comes in, it knows that it is a refitted car. Illegally refitted car. In China, it is to be detained. At that time, people will come to my house to ask me where the car came from the next day. I'll give you a slice to study it."
"Since I want to give it to you, it must be that all the procedures are done," Dixie said and licked his paw. "After the car is given to you, there will be a legal record of the car in the police station." And then all kinds of information will be completely legal, you can drive around, as long as it is not too arrogant, no one will notice it."
"A bunch of high-tech equipment in the car?"
"To help you do camouflage, usually just looks a bit bloated and strange, you can start again when you need it."
"That's fine."  Frank nodded. I want the car.
After Frank finished, he squeezed his face and said, "You are really thoughtful and consider it for you to come home."
"Stupid shit shovel officer, Ben Miao is only responsible for enjoyment, suffering things do not think of me," Dixie said, turning around and going to the side.  Frank knew that this is the wisdom soul in the body of Dixie to leave, so he did not stop.
At this time, Dixie suddenly turned to look at Frank, and then said to Frank, "Is there a very popular movie "Raw" recently?"
"It's the movie that the girl eats human flesh." Frank thought about it and asked, "What happened?"
"Nothing." The big cat hesitated and still didn't say anything. He just left a sentence before leaving. "If you have nothing to do recently, look up for similar movies."
Inexplicably, Frank looked at the fat cat and went back to the cat's nest to sleep. Is it true that the woman in the "Raw" is the next guest?
The female host looks pretty, and the symptoms are not as serious as her sister, and she can control her own impulse to eat human flesh.
If it's her, it's a bit troublesome but much better than Conan, the god of death.

Yo, Hi! I’m Frank, I made a deal with a demon to pay me some money for receiving a guest for a few days every week.

I had no idea about what I have done.

On May 1st, Conan ‘the God of Death’ came to my house. I was forced to let him in and we get involved in a criminal case.

On May 8th, Bruce Wayne ‘Batman’ came to me. I was forced to follow him to fight crime.

On May 16th, Hannibal Lecter, The Silence of the Lambs, came to my home. I can only say that I really can’t stand my guests.

~Btw im a translator~~

Whatever happened thereafter, it had been more than connected to what had happened later. 

  Everything happens must be significant, especially when you live near someone who could even consider himself as the most dangerous man he has ever known. And under so circumstances, one cannot rely on anyone, nor can relax, because any distraction would be the last breath's. 

  In a life full of spilled blood, the man with the knife is the king. And whether if that only and important knife was made of people, who were the crown itself, who built the start of their their history and were the first of whom the king had victimized. 

  That heartless king had insensitively perforated the security of everything: the infrastructure of London, the British law, the security of the most secure places in Britain, and even got an international, smuggling ring across, just because he fancied proving himself, daring to challenge the junkie who lives, or, rather, lived once upon a time in one of my flats. 

  As for that very purpose, I am attending to recount the story of Sherlock's first life love, beginning with the very reason to the very conclusion of separation. I will let the details to write up later, working by his brilliant saying, "it is not really difficult to construct a series of inferences, each dependent upon its predecessor and each simple in itself. If, after doing so, one simply knocks out all the central inferences and presents one's audience with the starting-point and the conclusion, one may produce a startling, though possibly a meretricious, effect." The only thing makes me my write these stories, is to leave the same startling effect, no matter if it was a meretricious, because all I need is to put the whole truth of everything right in front of you, but this time I will leave the central inferences, or as I have to call it, the details. 

  As I have mentioned, I quite understand the way the wise detective used to think, but when I say that he loved his life arch-enemy as much as anyone would love his only child and much more, I do respect his choice, but I do disagree with it as well, as there are always two features of interest. But it stays too insane to love an enemy, it might take most of the available opportunities to win. Sometimes we should keep our enemies close to us, but not closer than a friend, because any mistake or any misstep at that very sensitive matter, could make a murderous, massive failure of which is unstoppable and uncontrollable.

  It was all a game, a board game. It was Sherlock's game of life, Sherlock's lifetime chess. John said once, on his blog, that he felt like a pawn of their game, which he was indeed! Imagine the board with: two kings, one bishop, one knight, two rooks, a queen and two pawns. The two kings are James Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes, The king of the black Kingdom of evilness and the king of the white kingdom that is on the side of the angels. John and I were the two mighty pawns, whereas Mycroft, - who performs the British government - the capable but coward knight was on standstill, watching us and enjoying our frowns of how easily we could have been done, after a long term of manipulation by the arrogant enemy's queen with its forking network, and the resentment, uncooperative manner of the rooks, who needed, as well, the absence rather more than the safety of their king, our king, to be connected, and to present their real loyalty towards their kingdom. Wherever was the white bishop, which had been overwatching the legendary sacrifices for the sake of its life, it was planning to glory on its own, to lead its kingdom into a merciless letdown, by pretending the innocence while spying for the other kingdom, waiting for a further exchange of his own life rather than a treat or some protection. 

  After Mary's funeral, I did not see John as the much I used to do. I lost my only opponent at playing sudoku, that I turned to blame Sherlock, who was lying on the sofa, waiting for me, to serve him to decline my help; to keep his arrogance. "You care too much, don't you have things to spend time on. Go ask someone else. It itself goes over-my-head. Could you get out, please." He was saying at one of my visits. 

  "oh, Sherlock," I bowed, showing up my concern, "don't worry about it, I can gather you two again," and had not gotten yet the knowledge of his closely happening hateful plan. 

  "No, stop it, Mrs. Hudson, wasn't it the time for your herbal soothers." He raised his voice aloud. 

  "Oh dear, I abandoned them eight years ago," muttered I. 

  "Brilliant! The Game would never over, would it? That's gonna be the greatest game. How such an idiot was I!" He let out the words deliriously but on the very way of staidness of his, often like, while thinking and having about three nicotine patches on the arm, and putting the fingertip upon its parallel.  

  "Brilliant? What, brilliant is what? You must be a bit tired, a cup of tea will do the job. I'll bring it with some biscuits of your favourite." that was my mouth saying, whereas my heart said, "and finally the cocky detective reveals his idiotism!" I was about to choose one of them to say, but I could not manage to do so, as the detective broke the whole chain of his depression, saying to me, "wanna join?" 

  "if it is one of your stupid cases, Sherlock, I won't join it," replied I. 

  "it is not at all, Mrs. Hudson. You can trust me. Could you sit down, please?" said he, staring at me just to make sure that I will not decline his offer. He sat up a chessboard on the table and sat down before me, thus, I set down myself equally on the opposite dining table's chair. "Do you know what a chessman worths, what do it do, or what can it do," he said, "Mrs. Hudson?" 

  He added my name at the end of his question with a sweet, charismatic, adorable voice, that I could not answer him meanly, but smilingly, "I think so, as I had a Grandmaster sitting right before me."

  "Nobody is a Grandmaster, Mrs. Hudson. As long as there are the same chessmen on every board, whoever recalls the way to win, wins. It is strategic. In every game there are a few, trivial, possible number of steps to follow in order to win. As an example, if I attacked the center, by moving the G1 knight to the empty F3 square, what would you do then?" explicated he, and did the same as well. 

  "Oh, dear! I'll mirror your move, of course. It must make me the winner!" 

  We laughed and we laughed. I put my knight as I had explained. Later on that game, I found my king receiving checks from everywhere, that I had no choice but to receive the kiss of death (The Kiss of Death is an endgame checkmate involving the Queen and King. It occurs when the Queen creates an attack against the enemy king diagonally, and at the same time is diagonally supported by her own king. It is one of the many variations of how a typical Queen + King checkmate can occur in a Chess Endgame.). But somehow I tricked him, and kicked out his queen that our game ended with a draw. 

  His queen, after I kicked it out the game ended. Nobody had won, nobody could even continue. I am seeing now, the wisdom of his when choosing to fight against Moriarty not his network, so he could continue the game on until he defeat the king. He cannot defeat the king, literally, but he can exhaust him, and that was what he did. He got him tired, got the rid of Moriarty and left him with no choice but to withdraw from the battle, to commit his definite suicide. 

  But as the days went on, it reveals to us, it revealed the horrible, unexpected truth. Which it was, a king cannot be kicked out of a chessboard, only a draw or a defeat. May the days be weirder that no one's mind can even happens to accommodate the bitter facts of its existence. Or nobody can continue to live in with it, but the rescuer and only consulting detective, Sherlock Holmes is the only who probably does.

Sgt. Donovan once said: "solving crimes won't be enough. One day he will cross the line"
 Of course solving crimes will not be enough for such a man like Sherlock. He definitely will cross the line one day, but the question is, in what angle?
 A great meeting of the world's greatest colleagues. A wonderful meeting between the world's only consulting detective and the world's best brave doctor has took its positive results in the city of London, 221B, Baker street specifically. 
 Solving crimes and saving the lives, how do those two completely different types of power will get merged? Let's find out

The next morning, Seiya went down to the Hotel's Buffet where it opens at 5:30 am in the morning and close at 10:00 am. He grabs a two plates one is full of omelet egg and a few toast while the second plate carried nuggets and bacon, then he placed it down in a small table where there is only two seats available. People who were sitting near him had the same thoughts.
'Could this young man finish it?'
A few minutes later, Kudo Yusaku enters the buffet. He waive his hand to greet Seiya before getting his breakfast, a few seconds later. He sat down in the empty chair beside Seiya and ask.
"It looks like your planning a heavy research."
"No, I just eat a lot. Because my brain needs more energy to remember everything."
That is his excuse on eating a lot since no would believe that his body could absorb every nutrients of what he eats. But facts have proven that the brain consumes high amount of energy which came from food. Seiya's 12 year old body is already comparable to twice a person's attributes so, he can literally kill a regular person with a punch into the head. Kudo Yusako nodded as looks at the newspaper for today, Seiya spoke as he finish his coffee.
"I seem to hear that Mr. Kudo is a great novelist, I wonder if you have any thoughts regarding on a main villain character?"
"Hmn? Interesting proposition, What kind of character?"
"A unidentified man wearing a white crescent eyes mask with a wide smile. He is a phantom thief but would occasionally descends to murder, but this character cannot be caught even in the end of the book."
"It is a wonderful idea! How did you think of that?"
"I have read some of your detective novels, which made me think of a character that is very mysterious to the point that can mislead a person's perspective on how the murders happen and also I based this on the current phantom thief but since it is a crime, I thought of a murderous yet noble character "
Kudo Yusaku at this time hasn't written the Night Baron series, he was currently writing short to long detective novels which gave him numerous amount of fame but it wasn't enough for for a world famous novelist award. Seiya's idea gave him a series inspiration as he ask.
"What should this phantom thief be named?"
"I think the Night Baron would be perfect for it."
"It is a good name, Seiya-kun Do you mind if I use this character in my next novel?"
"I don't mind, I am also expecting Mr. Kudo to become a world famous novelist. I hope that this novel would spread all over the world so that I would also feel proud that my character was installed in a famous novel."

"Haha, Seiya-kun is really expecting a lot. It makes me feel a heavy burden."
"Don't worry, I believe that you will reach this award sooner than you think."
Seiya's confident eyes made Kudo Yusaku more motivated in creating the Night Baron earlier than the original plot, what he didn't know is that Seiya also wanted to use his character in real life as a identity in case if he will do something bad. This is his second life with an ultimate body, he wants to live without regrets this time. Seiya at the moment already identified at least 6/8 of the effect of his golden finger. The main thing that he will never say about is his blood, because a few years ago. He accidently cut himself in the finger and saw the blood drip on a cadaver. Although the cat cadaver is dead, it's wound still began to regenerate. which made him crazily think.
'My blood is like Tang Sanzang's meat?' 
(Author: Tang Sanzang is the Monk in journey to the west. There are rumors that anyone who consume his meat will gain immortality or will gain a power beyond god. MC hasn't learn about the urine confession and sex strengthens the body effect also he only knows that his scent can make girls want to be close to him not the scent that can make them imagine what they want like a drug....)
This made him alarmed as he checked his surrounding at that time, luckily no one was there because he was isolated by his classmate so he soloed this dissection project of removing the organs of a cat cadaver.  After a few minutes, Seiya said "Goodbye" to Kudo Yusaku as he went took the books that he have finish reading and went to back to the university. Coincidently he met Miyano Shiho in the library, he greeted her while carefully looking at her.
"Yo, we meet again Student Miyano. What are you doing in the library?"
"Looking for chemicals that can easily affect Stem Cells through digestion.."
Miyano Shiho felt that she could share her thoughts with Seiya on regards in recreating her parent's creation. Because meeting him yesterday really made her admire Seiya since he can remember and process a lot of scientific and theoretical information that is unknown to her. It also made her remember holding his hand which made her heart throb that night in which she thought that she was just drinking too much coffee. Seiya spoke as he grabs the books that she couldn't reach since he is taller than her.
"Hmmn, something like Ursolic Acid and Lactic Acid with a few mixture of Vitamin C and other chemical can cause a temporary anti aging and slow the aging. This book might be helpful for you.."
Miyano Shiho grabs the book called "Scientific Study on Chemicals that can affect Stem Cells", this made her bow to Seiya while saying something she felt in her heart.
"Thank you very much~"
"No problem, if its for a cute junior~"
Seiya couldn't help but rub her head which made her cheek reddish as steam came out on top of her head, Although her head was bowing which made her hair cover her face. Seiya could still feel her head going warm so he cough as he said while going to the Librarian.
"Anyway, I just go return this book and let see if I can help you understand this book."
"hmm."

Miyano Shiho nodded as she sat in a table with 2 empty chair. Seiya returned the books he finished reading, then he went and move the empty chair close to Miyano Shiho before sitting down as he said.
"We need to be close so that I can point out the things that you might not understand."
"Hmmn..."
Miyano Shiho couldn't help but breathe his smell into her nose, this made her thoughts imagine a new scenery. She was walking down the red carpet as the photographers took pictures of her, she enjoyed this scene until her hand was forcefully pulled by her lover while the scenery turned into a honey moon bed and that lover has Seiya's face as he whispered to her ears which made her heart beat faster.
"Do you want to feel good it?"
Although she is 10 years old, she has accidentally watch a few films from the girls dormitory of the university  and accidently seen a few +18 scene that secretly happened in this university so this led her expecting more of this situation like this would happen to her in the future. her heart was beating fast as it made her answer base on her biological instinct.
"I Do!"
"You do what? Student Miyano are you okay?"
The imagination suddenly disappeared as She face a curious Seiya, she couldn't help but blush as she lowered her head while saying.
"I am okay..."
"Okay, here is the chemical reaction should this acid interact with this cell."
Although she began to listen to his lecture, her body secretly move closer as she unconsciously took another whiff. Seiya was like Conan at this time focus on wanting to teach another person with his main occupation while Miyano Shiho was more like Sonoko wanting to grab the romantic line. Fortunately for Shiho, Seiya was writing down notes onto her notebook so that she could review it for later. But as Seiya continue to teach her about this book, a few tables away from them was a British light hair woman who was using a book with a cam hole in the book cover as she whisper while clicking a small device in her ear.
"Is the target away from the organization's surveillance?"

The black earpiece in her ear replied.
"Negative...Agent Mary, stand down and retreat. Some black suited men are coming inside the university. I repeat retreat immediately!"
"Tsk!"
The British light hair woman closed the book as she retreated to the exit doorway without anyone knowing. There were two black suited men driving a black Porsche 356 SC, one of them had a silver long hair while the other one was black hair with black sunglasses. The silver hair man spoke.
"The organization has ordered to move Miyano Shiho to another university. Find the girl."
"I understand, Aniki..."
They move forward to the library as Seiya continued on teaching Miyano Shiho. It was unknown if something bad would happen. Find out in the next chapter!

A bored ROB (Random Omnipotent Being which is Panda) sneezed and killed an Otaku College Student named Xing Ye (Starry Night in English and Seiya in Japanese). Panda didn't start a conversation since Panda ignored him as he immediately banish him into a newly created Fictional Omniverse with a random gift, he pick with his eyes closed using a slot machine. Xing Ye will acquire one random permanent ability for every time he reincarnates. 

Xing Ye thought it wasn't a bad deal until he finally knew what world he reincarnated into. The first world he reincarnated to was the world of the Detective Conan where any murder can happen as long as the Death God named Conan goes there. Xing Ye only knew that it was the World of Detective Conan because he accidently saw the newspaper when he was 1 years old and saw titled saying Inspector Megure with his partner Police Officer Mouri Kogoro has successfully stop the criminal's plan to bomb Shinjuku.

*I do not own the cover image, found it on pinterest and the character's name in the picture is Horikawa Kunihiro which is a fan art since the anime Touken Ranbu only shows the teenage looking Horikawa Kunihiro.
*Updates will not be stable
*This Fanfic focuses on a Harem Goal.
*This is a +18 Fanfic with a lot of sexual and dangerous content, you have been warned
*Don't Bash, English is not my forte. Panda's master is the google translate which means a lot of robot like text
*Just like Stephen Strange: Yeah, you know, you really should have stolen (Readed) the whole book (Introduction) because the warnings... The warnings come *after* the spells (reading it).



Detective Kebe said through the phone. "I want evidence to link a Senior British Government Minister with a security firm I suspect of operating a private army inside the UK. I want to know its business associates, its owners, directors, and suppliers. I know Albion Security is a company, which work exclusively for European Governments. But the question is, are they ordinary suppliers, or is there something nefarious to hide. It is public knowledge that Albion provided low level security guards for Government buildings in Nigeria, courts and prisoner transfers. But recently a radical newspaper, our Nigerian Guardian discovered a series of payments to the company from an unusual source. One of the analysts at the Hacker Network had connected this snippet of information with reports of increased street level surveillance upon Anti Government Activists. There had been fights at opposition group meetings, intimidation of high profile activists. The analysts at the Hacker Network drew the obvious historical parallel with paramilitary units used to intimidate political opponents in 1930s Spain, Italy, Russia and Germany. Surveillance, harassment and assaults were the usual modus operandi. Normally carried out in such a way that the Corporatists could plausible deny any connection to the violence." 

"No problem I understand what you want me to do." 

"You did well the last time, the evidence are here and safe with me." 

"Well thank you." 

"Your welcome. Am hanging up now." 

"Okay." 

She ended the call. 

"Micheal, could you prove beyond doubt that Albion Security were responsible for the unrest or prove Albion Security were following explicit directions from someone close to the Corporatists, the British Government." Mercy said. 

"Um that's a good question love, I know your worried about me but it's fine." 

My disguise:The characteristics of a grubby student. "Is this my alias badge okay." 

They all inspected it. 

"Yeah, it would easily pass the cursory inspection." Joy said. 

I placed the ID card on my laptop and went into the bathroom to transform myself into the person in the photo. 

After I've reached London I went into Albion's Office. I shambled through the underground entrance leading to the Supervisor's desk. The same cleaning uniform was used by all the workers agencies, so my clothing fitted in with the other cleaners. 

I pushed my cleaning trolley through the fire doors into the service area in the basement. I pressed a button and waited for a lift to arrive. The lift arrived with a ping, the doors opened and disgorged two cleaners and a Supervisor. 

"Your the new guy, you know which floor you going to?" 

"Yes." 

"Fine! Don't take all night! We've got homes to go to. Understand?" 

"Yes, yes." 

I stepped into the lift alone. The doors opened at the eight floor. I decided to clean for a while before going up to the tenth floor and looking for evidence. 

The tenth floor was deserted. The doors were made protected by a digital time lock. I stopped and placed an electronic gadgetry six inches from the floor close to the edge of the door. 

Then I pulled the trolley close to the door and using it as a ladder stretched up to place a duplicate device at the top of the door. Climbing down, I attached a number of leads from the box around the door handle. I pressed the power button and watched as the device came to life. One by one a line of LEDs flickering on a small display. I waited as the LEDs gradually turned from red to amber, finally flickering to a constant green as the device found the combination. 

A display panel showed the current time 02:19 hours. Satisfied the device had identified all available connections, I pressed another button and the device began to advance the lock's internal clock to 08:00 hours. It took a few minutes and a heavy metallic click announced the door was ready to open. 

I heard distant voices. I jumped up on the trolley and grabbed the top terminal of the lock cracker. Then gingerly I jumped down grabbing the other devices as I landed. Throwing the gadget on the trolley, I heaved the heavy door pulling the trolley inside with me. Hurriedly I closed the door and dropped the lock so it wouldn't open if the guards decided to check the door. 

Breathing heavily I slumped to the floor. Sweat trickled down my back as I listened intently for the guard's approach. I heard distant footsteps on the marble floor outside the entrance, they stopped for a while and they moved away. 

I walked into a small reception area. I pushed open a door at the far end and entered a hallway flanked by a suite of six offices all with glass partitions. 

I knew from the building plans there were no alarms to worry about once I was inside the time lock door. So I set about searching for the documents I needed. I walked into a large modern office, I sat at the desk. I scanned the desktop, I searched the desk, then the drawer. Inside the drawer was a small dictating machine, a cheque book and a few sheets of A5 paper filled with small densely packed hand written notes. 

I picked up the dictating machine, I selected the most recent track and listened. I swirled grimly, rewound the recording further back and listened once more. Satisfied I now have evidence to link Albion to a Senior Government Minister and by implication to the murder, I copied the recording onto my MP3 player and photographed the notes. 

I wandered over the antique bookcase and inspected it closely, nothing useful to find. But then something caught my eye and I retraced my steps and scanned the covers. There was a symbol, the same as the murder victim's ring. 

From Albion I checked into a hotel. I decided to inspect the crampled hotel room. I checked the miniscule grimy shower and stained toilet, it was a grubby dump. This crappy hotel is where I could hide unnoticed. This particular hotel was frequented by migrant workers, who followed cash in hand jobs around Europe. They were an ethereal workforce accountable to anyone. Over the years, they established their own support network, places to eat and stay, basic medical care and private cash only banking. This hotel was one such establishment. The migrants used it when cheap labour was needed in London. Their last big job had been tunnelling the new cross rail links in the capital. The owner of the hotel, Benny, was Lithuanian and distrustful of any authority. He asked no questions, dealt in cash of any recognisable denomination and habitually failed to keep any record of his guest's identity or their stay. To the outside world the hotel looked like an ordinary terraced house. In fact it occupied six houses out of the ten in the terrace. If you stayed at Benny's place you merged into the cultural melting pot of East London, anonymous and unseen by the authorities. The migrants were fight lipped about their support network, they knew information was power. Without information the authorities were clueless about their existence and whereabouts. Benny acted as a trusted counselor, lawyer, banker and protector. The hotel was ninety minutes from the coast. The migrants drifted in and out of the country like spectres. 

I closed the sliding door to the bathroom and looked out of the cobweb encrusted window. It was a corroded aluminium double glazed unit which did little to reduce the noise of a busy rail line ten yards from the room. A rusting fire escape clung perilously to the outside wall within a few feet of the window. I had noted the sign in the corridor, it would give me an additional escape route if needed. I would be inconspicuous here. The owner had barely looked up from his reality TV show as I booked myself in. 

I opened my laptop and video called Detective Kebe. 

"Look at the ring." I said, waving it on the camera. 

"Why would they kill one of their own and then be careless to leave this behind." 

*** 

"Gentlemen! Ladies! Your attention please. I won't take up much of your time. The team leaders will brief you in more detail, such as it is, in a moment. You all know each other, we've worked together many times before. Yet again we have to dig the top brass out of the shit!". Geoffrey Lewis said. 

A ripple of resigned laughter spread through the room. 

"But this time there is a difference. We have to track down and catch the terrorist who by all accounts knows how to stay below the radar. I am told of his action by Honourable Abdul Olajide Jimoh, a secret Government documents have been stolen." 

The room fell silent as they digested the information.

#wisdom #knowledge #inspirational #motivational
*The use of Nigerian Pidgin Language* 
Micheal Samuel, a 27 year old Nigerian man embarks on a journey as a blogger to make more money whilst using it as a medium to impact positively to people's life and try change Nigeria with his perspective full of wisdom and knowledge. LIFE IN 2021 is the title of his blog genre where he shares his feelings to the masses.Thriller, mystery etc sets in the plot as Michael's life sets to turn for the worst. Will Nigeria change for the better with his writing, or not?

Location of novel is set in the Kingdom of Albion, City of London.

Charaters so far include:

Emilia Evergarden:
Accent: Welsh, British
A 17-year-old girl with long light and faded grey hair and eyes. She has a sharp mind and stellar intellect.
Naturally curious, almost child-like, but hides it with an emotionless face and voice.

Scott Windhelm:
Accent: Northern Irish, Belfast
A 65-year-old man who is the personal butler to Emilia Evergarden. White hair tied into a ponytail, and a white mustache.

Lord John Willcroft:
Accent: RP, British
A 27 year old noble, is the first and only son of The Willcroft Family. Works under Emilia as a field agent.

William Larkhart:
Accent: East London, British
A 28 year old freelance detective, very handsome and uses his charm on ladies for information and other uses. Works under Emilia as a field agent.

Clara Tomanov:
Accent: Russian
A 17 year old girl from Russia. Is friends with Emilia. Has black hair that reaches her middle back and blue eyes.

There is a rift, or a gap between the Aristocrats and the commoners in the Kingdom of Albion that is only growing larger by the day.

Meet Emilia Evergarden, a mysterious 17 year old girl who lives in a mansion on the outskirts of London on a little hill, no maids to clean, and no butlers to serve, the only other person in the Evergarden Mansion is a single loyal butler, Windhelm.

Emilia has many people that owe her favors for unknown reasons, and she will eventually cash in, but she will also meet new people that she will come to help and maybe get help from.

In the end all Emilia wants in a total annihilation of the class system, and in order to do that she will need more than just her brains, she will need power, and in order to do that she will need more loyal followers.

Chapter 29: Cold Beer. A Difference Of Cultures
There was one issue that soon became apparent. The demand for US-style beer became insatiable. There were enough British movie technicians there, however, there were a lot more 'yanks' about to make an impact. This was not true of all the Americans can I add though.
Sid, Beryl, and the barmaids were sick and tired of the constant moaning about 'real ale'. There were enough US bottled beers like 'Bud', available, so this should not have been an issue, There were also moans about the food. What did they want, wall to wall burgers? Plus the comments about 'warm beer'.
A brief note on cold beers or larger beers as they are known in the UK. Cold beers had their origins in Germany and the Czech Republic. They started off way back in the Middle Ages being stored in cold caves. There is a brilliant Czech Budweiser Budvar. This is the original 'bud'. There was a massive trade dispute regarding the copyright of the two forms of 'bud'. There was some kind of resolution. The Bull, needless to say, serves both kinds of beer.
The reality with 'real ales', was that this fermenting beer was kept in wooden barrels and was kept cool, but they were not 'chilled' as this would destroy the fermenting process. There was a whole art to how this beer was 'kept'. A discerning drinker would pick up immediately if the beer was 'off'. The Bull had had a long reputation as a pub that produced excellent real ale beer.
This extended to whisky. The Bull had an extensive range of quality malts. These included Laphroaig, Taliskisker, Glenfiddich, Glenmorangie, and many other fine malts. Most of the yanks seem to want only Jack Daniels, a blended whisky. Some insisted whisky originated from the US. Maybe a little drop of water or two in a malt or a glass of water separate. Never drown a malt with water!
Patience started to wear thin. Beryl was finding it increasingly difficult to contain her self.
"These yanks canae come in here and tell us what to do, do you ken?"
"Adding all that water to a malt ye ken? Should be a capital offence, aye!"
There seemed to be the likelihood of an imminent 'Glasgow Kiss', a head butt. Sid tried to do his best to contain Beryl, but this was proving very difficult.
The Majors and the Chief Detective Inspector were happily sitting on their favourite seats upstairs in the Lounge Bar quaffing the said English ales. The Chief Detective Inspector was there and it was Monday, but that didn't seem to make any difference.
Percy and Humphrey, the two retired Majors were less than amused.
"I say these American fellows seem to want to always throw their weight around," commented Percy.
"Indeed Percy. They seemed to want to see everyone conform to their values and customs."
This could be construed as a touch hypocritical, as this may have been the case with the British at the height of the British Empire.
The Chief Detective Inspector then added:
"Am I missin' somethin' 'ere but aint this bleedin' film all abou' a traditional London Pub init?"
The Chief's London accent did start to get more pronounced when he was getting angry.
It was at this point that Old Slippery moved from downstairs to upstairs and 'materialized' on his throne.
He had caught the gist of what was going on. These uppity 'Colonials' had wanted to take over the pub. Superimpose their tastes on the Public House. Eyes were reddening. The ghost's ' actual sword' appeared buckled up and ready for action. He would relish this. To avenge those 'Colonials', and show them who was in control. Maybe dispatch a few 'Frenchies' if he could find them.
Both Sid and Chief Detective Inspector John Higgins got into a heated 'telepathic' discussion with Old Slippery. They did get him to calm down eventually, but it was hard work. This had struck a solid ghostly nerve in the Right, Hon Jake Horatio Higginbottom. He was still very much in the Regency period, the early 19th century. France was the enemy then. He had fought them when he was in the army. They were responsible, the ghost felt, for the American colonies succeeding from Great Britain. This was why it was such a tough nut to crack to calm him down.
Sid the Landlord thought of a solution. He went downstairs and explained the situation to the movie director and producers. He was joined by the Chief Detective Inspector.
Chief Detective Inspector then addressed the whole crew downstairs. The gist of what he said was that the downstairs bar and restaurant would specialize in, but not exclusively in, American beers, whisky, drinks, and food, for the duration of the shoot. However, upstairs would remain a traditional 'real ale' London Pub. There would be no more snide comments or complaints, Complaints would be directed only at serving food and drink in the lower bar. They were all 'guests' here after all. He also pointed out that Old Slippery was out to avenge 1776, if things did not quieten down. This movie could be an actual re-run of Reservoir Dogs. if this was not 'sorted'.
There was another cultural angle to this. News had got to Carlos, Colombian, and Matteo, Italian who helped produce the food in the pub. Both the husbands of Beryl's daughters. Matteo was now increasingly working in the Bull. Neither of these two parties was particularly happy with these turn of events either.
It was at this point that Old Slippery materialized downstairs, sitting on his downstairs cellar chair. He started to look intently around and about him. He could see all the 'colonials'. His eyes were flicking red again. The main 'dissing' offenders started to feel an intense and painful chill down their backs. This was the ghost's way of telling all these people to back off in no uncertain terms. They all knew the consequences if they didn't.
However, things were not all uniformly homogenized and standardized in the United States. The US is a very large country. There is a very strong craft beer tradition covering several different styles of beer.
A producer and two cameramen sheepishly crept upstairs and joined the Majors, myself, and the Detective Chief Inspector. They ordered a pint of real ale each. Sid readily served them although Beryl was giving them dirty looks.
The producer Gary introduced himself along with his two colleagues.
"I would like to apologize to you guys for some of my fellow countrymen and sadly a few of the ladies too."
"This is not on"
"Their attitude is very poor."
"Apology accepted," was Percy's gracious reply "We are too prone to generalize too often. The United States is a veritable continent, so there must be a lot of variety across it?"
Gary agreed.
Gary then went on to explain he was from Boston. He brewed bottled craft beers. He modeled these on some of the Flemish bottled beers, Hoegaarden, Chimay, etc. He also liked the German-style Weissbier, and Wheat beers. He had noticed there were a number of different ales on sale here. There was also a range of 'guest beers' on sale. These came from small specialist brewers If customers liked these Beryl and Sid would place a regular order with those brewers. He loved the English 'Real Ale Beer' tradition and was very fond of the two main London beers, Youngs and Fullers. Gary knew how critical it was to keep a beer 'clean'.
The Bull was not a 'Tied' pub, but a 'Free House. It was not owned by a brewery and never was, and never will be. Beryl and Sid were happy to bring in whatever beer, drinks, and the food they thought would sell. This was proving very successful.
He then tentatively did his pitch. Would the pub be interested in selling some of his beers? Maybe not the most opportune moment, but he thought he would give it a try.
Both the Detective Chief Inspector and I thought it would be an idea to have a word with Sid, but not Beryl at the moment. She needed to calm down. She had gone upstairs to visit 'wee Jock', her little Highland terrier for comfort. So this was a very good moment for this discussion with Beryl out of the way.
I asked him if he had any bottles with him? He said yes, and rushed downstairs to get them. Sid was interested. He tried a beer and was impressed. Specialist bottled beers were being served up now like wines to complement the food on offer. Sid made Gary an offer which he agreed to. Getting the beers in from the States would not be easy, but as Gary was now more or less resident in London, he had already started brewing here. Sid thought he could win Beryl round. There was a reasonable profit to be made and that was the music they both liked to hear. It is always best not to assume too much and not make wild generalizations about different nations. The deal Sid struck with this Boston brewer is a case in point.
All in all, things were nicely reconciled and everything was now set up for the initial screening of the movie.

A Strange Ghostly Tale Of Slippery Jake The Regency Rake. 
Outline

This story is based in a London Pub from a few years ago. Slippery Jake returns to haunt the Bull Public House.
He is not your usual ghost by any means. He can be very ruthless but he is also very protective towards the pub.
His is a journey of redemption for the heinous he has committed.

A hero's unfortunate death. The birth of a villain who shall take the whole world by surprise. Will he fulfil his father's dream or give it one hell of a nightmare.

british detective series novel

Detective Burman series

King of Hollywood

Inseparable House Guests

Johnlock: The Diary

.!!lkklii

Endless Reincarnation Into The Fictional Omniverse

LIFE IN 2021

Cold Mysteries

The Strange Ghostly Tale Of Slippery Jake The Regency Rake

Harry Potter And The Boy Who Wasn't

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