Operation Red Book

"It's time to go to bed. We have to go to work tomorrow."

Ivy opened her arms, took a few deep breaths, and stretched a few times.

The night in London was still foggy. Standing on the roof and looking up, you could only see the black iron tower and the cross on top of the white church.

Ivy squatted down and picked up the brown paper that was scattered all over the ground by the wind. It was covered with Ivy's notes and densely intersecting lines.

After Ivy sorted the papers, she casually put them into the red book, then turned around and picked up the quill that was floating on the ground.

Just as Ivy turned around, another strong wind blew towards the roof of 211-B.

The red book was blown open by the wind, and the brown paper was also blown up by the wind and scattered in the air.

Ivy was concentrating on finding the quill in the corner and didn't notice the chaos behind her.

The strong wind was like a magician waving a magic baton, guiding the brown paper to fly in the air.

The papers scattered in the wind, then folded together, and finally fell gently into the hands of a purple figure.

Ivy finally caught the last disobedient quill. She squatted on the ground and sighed heavily, holding several broken quills tightly in her hands.

Ivy suddenly felt a little depressed. She was only 18 years old and was studying course knowledge in a British school.

For her in the 21st century, this time should be the time to prepare for A-levels.

Now that I've traveled here, not only has my study plan been disrupted, but I also have to start working early because of life problems. Is the wonderful high school and college life going to be gone?

Ivy slapped her face and pushed all the bad emotions out of her mind.

She stood up and prepared to pick up her things and go downstairs, but as soon as she turned around, a strong gust of wind blew towards her, making it impossible for her to open her eyes.

Ivy was startled by two "click" sounds, followed by a "gurgling" sound.

Ivy used her two fists to block the hurricane in front of her, and after a while she managed to open her eyes. She looked down and found that it was just an oil lamp that was blown down by the wind.

Ivy turned her back without hesitation, and when the strong wind died down a little, she threw the feather pens in her hands back into the corner, turned around, picked up the oil lamp, wiped it, and lit it again.

Through the dim yellow light, Ivy discovered the red book also lying on the ground.

She turned the book over, and new content appeared on the old pages.

The content appeared very quickly, and dense black words crawled all over the page like ants.

What's strange is that this time the content that appeared was English written in red ink on the upper half, and Chinese characters written in black ink on the lower half.

"Wait, wait, let me see."

Ivy moved the oil lamp closer and squinted her eyes to barely see the words on the book. In order to improve efficiency, she slowly read the words on the book aloud.

"The Death God Organization does not belong to the human world, hell, or heaven. They are divided into two parts, one for collecting souls, and the other for distributing and recording work, just like editors and reporters in a newspaper."

"Each Grim Reaper has his own area of ​​responsibility, ranging from small to large. I don't know how they divide the areas. I only know that the Grim Reaper of 211-B Baker Street is Angelina, and the Grim Reaper in the suburbs was originally Arnold, and later Sophia took over."

"They all belong to... Raphael M. Blevins... What a weird name?" Ivy said with disgust.

"Except for Buckingham Palace and Downing Street, the rest of London is directly under Raphael's jurisdiction. He is the de facto... Prime Minister of the Death Realm. Hmm?"

Ivy blinked her eyes, moved closer to the page and looked at it carefully. Her handwriting was indeed correct, but why did she write such incoherent words?

There was no time to think about it, so Ivy continued to recite the remaining Chinese characters in a low voice.

"Raphael had long purple hair like dead grass that reached his instep. He wore a loose purple robe and no socks or shoes."

"The hood covered the upper half of his face. He was not blind, so I don't know how he could see in front of him."

"He has a long jaw, sharp teeth, and a machete in his hand. He looks like... a nasty psychopath?"