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"Hilton Mobley is dead."
"What?"
On Thursday afternoon, Marvin, who was lazing around in his store, looked at Second Prince Shukri, who had suddenly arrived, with shock and confusion: "Hilton Mobley... the owner of the Nightingale Club?"
"Yes, that's him."
Second Prince Shukri, fiddling with the ornaments, nodded his head. From the moment he entered the store, his brows were furrowed, always tightly knitted: "I heard about this on my way here. Hilton Mobley died last night in his own home, and not just him, his family of five, including his wife and three children, were all found dead by noon."
"At the moment, the police and Demon Hunters are jointly handling the case, and Holmes has gone as well."
"This is a big deal...."
Second Prince Shukri sighed somberly. He had originally come to Marvin's store in his free time to see if there were any new and interesting items, but after hearing this news, his good mood was gone at once.
