The Speedrun Manual of Miss Witch

Fortunately, this Reconstitution Ritual didn’t require “Cooking”... If guessing based solely on the name, Ciel felt “Butcher” was the most likely path to use “Cooking” knowledge.

After all, broadly speaking, the term “Butcher” refers to someone who slaughters, processes, or sells livestock.

Ciel closed the notebook in her hand, looked at the group of people following her, and was momentarily stuck, unsure what to say.

Judging from their respectful and fearful attitude towards her, her simulated self must have used quite a few bloody methods when dealing with those remnants.

The notebook recorded that her residence had moved back to No. 44 North-South Stone Street in Clock Tower Alley. It seemed she bought it directly using the Blood Letter Gang’s funds.

The potions and other things should still be there.

Ciel didn’t speak, just walked towards North-South Stone Street according to memory. The burly man beside her quickly followed with the umbrella.

While walking, passing by a glass display window, Ciel saw her current appearance. Her long hair behind her was tied into a low ponytail, hanging down her back. A strong gangster vibe practically emanated from her.

Taking over the Blackwater Gang is one thing, but making everyone wear newsboy caps while she herself wears this trench coat, bowler hat, and ponytail... Berren City really resembles Birmingham.

Reborn, I established the Razor Gang on the Shanghai Bund to be Makima, right?

She really got carried away with it.

But the overall thinking wasn’t flawed. Unable to rely on Avena, she could only utilize these ordinary people.

With corrupt police backing Ciel, plus the previous bloody clean-up methods, the people below wouldn’t dare rebel for some time at least.

These people had already been trained by the simulated Ciel, making them easy to command.

Within these 24 hours, she would use them to continue monitoring Oppold, while she herself had to digest the potion within 23 hours and wait for Tara’s intelligence.

Finally, reserve 1 hour to steal the sealed artifacts from Oppold. If necessary, having Tara disguise herself as Judicator’s Court to lure Oppold away wouldn’t be a problem. At worst, let Tara make a heroic sacrifice; it would count as her dedicating herself to the god in her heart.

The plan had taken shape in her mind. The next step was implementation.

Transcendent corpses were indeed hard to find. If this were a Past Days simulation, Ciel knew many people who could become corpses. But in reality, they were all dead, leaving the Future Days simulation Ciel with no corpses to use.

If absolutely necessary, she could ask Tara to dig graves at Deton Manor for her. There were many corpses there; perhaps she could even find an opportunity to steal Lucy’s body.

Unfortunately, Braque’s body was completely absorbed, and Kitty’s body became the Divine Servant’s vessel... Unsure if the Divine Servant counts as a corpse after death.

If it counted, plus Lucy’s corpse, she would have one third-tier transcendent corpse and one with a second-tier vessel, a spiritual creature corpse of unknown strength.

Such an exaggerated configuration, likely no other “Coroner” could achieve. If stitched together like this, who knows what Ciel would create? Would it have a more positive impact on potion digestion?

Perhaps she should ask Tara about this. Counting the time, if things went smoothly, she should have already returned to Berren City.

Not many people used umbrellas in the light rain. It was currently the short lunch break at noon, and there were quite a few pedestrians on the road.

Many people, upon seeing this procession, quickly moved to the sides of the road, afraid of provoking the plague gods.

Just as Ciel was about to reach North-South Stone Street, a figure almost made Ciel stop in her tracks.

Oppold!

Oppold, covered in coal dust, having just come out of the coal processing plant, was wiping his face with a dark grey towel while walking towards Ciel, ultimately having his path blocked by the group Ciel led.

Must not show weakness. He doesn’t know who I am.

Ciel made a decision almost instantly. She slowly looked up, swept her cold gaze over Oppold before her, her slightly narrowed eyes filled with the indifference and contempt one might reserve for looking at inferior swine.

At this moment, Oppold was also internally frustrated.

Why must he, a third-tier transcendent, work in a factory for over ten hours?

Doing this kind of lowly work infuriated Oppold. What infuriated him even more was the mysterious person hiding in the shadows, proactively feeding him intelligence.

He initially thought this was all a transcendent gambling game set up by the third-tier “Favored” Lucy, leading him to directly break ties with her.

Only later, after killing Lucy, when the letters continued to arrive, did Oppold realize the sender was someone else.

But he had already discovered the secret within this “conspiracy”...

The secret lay in the sealed artifacts...

As long as he could gather the sealed artifacts, something better would surely happen, and he would seize this opportunity.

He was more than seventy percent certain that the mysterious sender’s strength was inferior to his own, otherwise, they wouldn’t need to rely on suicide messengers to deliver letters; the mysterious person could just inform him directly.

Moreover, after he killed the messenger, he faced no retaliation, further solidifying his internal speculation.

Although he was currently in the light while the enemy was in the dark, give him some time, and he would definitely investigate thoroughly and drag out the person hiding in the shadows.

He looked at his right hand, completely indistinguishable from an ordinary person’s, a faint smile appearing on his face.

Just two sealed artifacts brought such significant change... What if all three were gathered?

Just then, he stopped his steps and looked at the group of people before him.

These bottom-feeding dregs again...

According to the misfortune rule, Oppold had to save up enough shillings each week, no more, no less, obtained entirely through work.

But these Blackwater Gang dregs started collecting protection fees from him. After simply teaching a few of them a lesson, he thought they would stop, but unexpectedly, they intensified their efforts, seeking revenge.

If not for the fear that killing too many people would attract the attention of the Church of the Savior Goddess and get him kicked out of this area, Oppold wouldn’t tolerate these sewer rats for even a second.

If it were before, how could he encounter such blind people?

But when he lowered his head and saw the young woman under the black umbrella, Oppold was instantly stunned.

“Scram.” A sharp word spat from the young woman’s mouth.