It All Starts with the Wizard

Roman’s villa is located in the suburbs of Efalin City, a short distance from the Metropolitan Police Department. It maintains a speed of thirty or forty miles, and drove along the road unhurriedly, observing the surrounding environment by the way.

Although the Federation has entered the industrial age, it seems that the overall technological level is still in the steam engine period. Although it is still early in the morning, some huge smokestacks and looming whistle sounds have gradually appeared around it.

In Efalin City, there are not many people who can drive cars. They are basically exclusive to nobles or relatively wealthy nobles. Most people choose cheaper buses or bicycles, so even the streets are not spacious. , But still unimpeded.

As the black classic cars get closer and closer to the city center, there are more pedestrians on both sides of the street. Most of them are dressed relatively plainly, rushing around the streets for life, and from time to time there will be one or two newspaper sellers. The hawker cast an enviable look at Roman's classic car.

Roman suddenly stopped the car next to a fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy, then rolled down half of the car window and said:

"Bring me a copy of today's newspaper for the Federal Daily."

The Federal Daily News is a unified newspaper issued by the Federal Government. Compared with some other unknown newspapers, the Federal Daily News far exceeds them in terms of the breadth and depth of content.

The teenager has a round face and looks very simple and honest, and a canvas pocket is hanging diagonally on his shoulder, which contains a thick stack of neatly arranged newspapers.

He didn't seem to expect that the car in front of him that he had longed for would park in front of him, and the owner of the car would buy newspapers from him. He was stunned on the spot for a while, and didn't react.

"What? No? Boy?"

Roman asked again, without impatience in his tone.

"Ah, sorry, yes, yes, noble sir, no, noble grandfather, I will give it to you."

The boy immediately reacted, his face flushed with excitement, and then he hurriedly pulled out a brand-new newspaper from his shoulder bag and handed it to Roman respectfully with both hands.

"Thank you, how much is it?"

Roman asked again.

"Three Acts, sir."

The young man said subconsciously.

The currency issued by the federal government is divided into three levels. The law, the silver pound and the gold pound are all converted at a ratio of one hundred to one. Of course, the federal government has also issued some large bills to facilitate portability.

However, the exchange limits of these bills are relatively large, and are generally only used for some large-scale transactions, and the average person's salary is about three to five coins a week, so naturally there is no need to worry about these people.

With a flick of Roman's finger, a shiny silver coin flew out of the car window, and its accuracy fell into the pocket of the boy's left chest. Then, he rolled up the car window and continued to drive towards the Metropolitan Police Department.

Watching the car drifting away, the boy subconsciously took out the silver pound from his pocket. It took him a long time to react. He ran a few steps in the direction the car was leaving, yelling:

"Sir, sir, you gave too much."

Roman glanced through the rearview mirror and smiled. It was not that he deliberately pretended to be generous. It was true that Collins had no laws, and the lowest was silver pounds. There were even a few pieces worth a hundred in the storage compartment of the car. Large bills of gold coins.

After driving for about ten minutes, Roman finally arrived at the Metropolitan Police Department. He parked the car at the entrance of the Metropolitan Police Department, then slightly adjusted the collar, put the newspaper he had just bought under his arm, and opened the door. Walked in.

William Collins was obviously an acquaintance of the Metropolitan Police Department. As soon as he walked in, many police officers greeted him respectfully.

"Good morning, Mr. Collins, it looks like your condition has recovered."

At this time, a well-dressed young policewoman came to Roman and spoke to him with a smile, her eyes flashing with scorching hot eyes.

Roman immediately remembered the identity of the person in his mind, and after repeatedly confirming that there was no relationship beyond friendship between the two sides, he learned from Collins' usual attitude and answered politely.

"Ahem, good morning, Mia, thank you for your concern."

Hearing Roman's formulaic reply, a trace of unsearchable sadness flashed across Mia's face, and then said with a smile:

"Then please come with me. Sheriff Dougman is already in the office. I believe he will be very happy to see you."

With that, Mia turned around and walked towards the inside of the Metropolitan Police Department with Roman.

Soon, the two came to the sheriff's office. Before they even entered, they heard an angry curse from inside:

"What do you guys eat? This is the fifth murder case, but there is no clue? Wilbur! I'll give you three more days. If you don't have any breakthroughs, just let me go. Go back to the country to farm! What are you doing in a daze? Why don't you go and investigate? Get out!"

Then, there was a heavy flapping of the desk, and then the door of the sheriff's office was pushed open, and several police officers rushed out of it embarrassedly.

As soon as the headed tall man with short brown hair and stiff face came out, he ran into Roman and Mia standing by the door. A surprise flashed across his originally frowning face, and he strode immediately. Walked to Roman, and said eagerly:

"Thank God, Mr. Collins, you have finally come. You must help me this time. There is absolutely no clue in that **** case. I can count on you now..."

This person was when Roman recalled Collins' memory ~www.wuxiaspot.com~ and immediately understood the identity of the visitor, who was the leader of the investigation team, Wilbur, who had been scolded by Dougman just now.

According to Collins’ evaluation of him, he is a person who is more willing to use his developed biceps to think than his head. This person can be the leader of the investigation team entirely because this guy can fight, as for the ability to solve crimes. , Basically rely on torture.

However, in Efallin, a not-so-large city, there are not a few major murders in a year, so in most cases Wilbur only needs to deal with the disputes between the ruffians and hooligans, which is quite handy.

But now, encountering such a mysterious death event that makes Collins helpless, naturally he can only be like a headless fly, completely stunned. In fact, if he hadn't seen Roman, I was afraid that Wilbur would take it later. With the police officer, go and beat up the gangsters who committed the crime again, and find a way to find a scapegoat.

This is also what he has done the most recently. Every time Dougman gets angry at him, he takes people to fix the guys with previous convictions, hoping to get some clues like shit.

However, thanks to him, the law and order in Efalin City has improved a lot recently. Those little gangsters who wandered around the joint hid at home with interest, or simply went to the surrounding areas to avoid the limelight.