Chapter 190: The Fate of a Private Detective

Chapter 190: The Fate of a Private Detective

Dead?

Will Auceptin is dead?

And he seems to have been dead for some time!

Could this be fake?

Klein looked at the child’s corpse in astonishment and suspicion as countless thoughts abruptly surfaced in his mind.

In his understanding, Will Auceptin was a child who came with something special attached to him. He might be connected to Sequence 1 of the Monster pathway—the Mercury Snake.

The divination game he had played and the offhand sentence “Doctor, your luck is going to get worse,” had caused Allen to be unlucky for a very long time. The paper crane he had folded allowed Allen’s astral body to be located in the spirit world and infused with artificially created revelations. Even above the gray fog, Klein could only glimpse one or two things about his whereabouts, with no way to arrive at a useful conclusion. How could a child like that suddenly die for no apparent reason? How could he have died before Dr. Allen even started dreaming? And where were his relatives?

Klein narrowed his eyes slightly, endured the strong feeling of disgust, and carefully examined the badly decomposed corpse. He found several torn tarot cards in the surrounding soil.

His spiritual intuition told him that the body before him was most likely Will Auceptin.

This really is shocking and baffling… I’ll go above the gray fog later to confirm whether Will Auceptin has faked his death… Wait, what does this have to do with me? I already decided not to get involved too deeply in this matter, to avoid getting entangled by some “Mercury Snake.” That may be even more terrifying than Sealed Artifact 0-08… Klein abruptly snapped back to himself and said to the terrified cemetery keeper and the nearly collapsed Dr. Allen:

“Call the police!”

“All—all right!” The cemetery keeper first froze, then answered repeatedly.

Holding the shovel, he turned and ran out of the woods as quickly as though a living corpse were chasing him from behind.

As expected of an ordinary person—no caution at all. In this sort of situation, shouldn’t he be wary that someone nearby might have malicious intentions? Exposing his back like that makes it very easy for someone to smack him with a shovel… Klein glanced at the cemetery keeper’s back and shook his head with a sigh.

Back when he had been in the Tingen City Nighthawks team, he had read quite a few case files and discovered that many victims had been tricked by their companions in exactly this manner.

Thinking of that, Klein walked to Dr. Allen’s side, bent down, reached out a hand, and said, “There’s nothing to be afraid of. He’s already dead.”

“…It is precisely because he’s already dead that it’s frightening.” Allen calmed down a little. Without accepting Klein’s help, he got up by himself.

His black formal coat was now covered in soil, and for some reason, Klein felt a little pained on its behalf.

I just can’t stand seeing valuable things damaged… he sighed inwardly.

Seeing that Allen was still somewhat panicked, Klein smiled and said, “At times like this, praying to the deity you believe in works rather well.”

“Is that so?” Allen froze for a moment, then tapped his chest clockwise four times and murmured, “Goddess of the Evernight, nobler than the stars and more eternal than eternity, Your devout believer prays for Your blessing…”

As he repeated the prayer in a low voice, he gradually calmed down and was no longer as afraid as before.

Klein casually drew the triangular holy emblem over his own chest and silently muttered to himself:

“God of Steam and Machinery, Your not-remotely-devout believer prays for Your blessing…”

As he spoke, he could not help giving a self-deprecating laugh, suspecting that he might be struck by lightning on the spot.

Then again, lightning and thunder belong to the Lord of Storms, not to the domain of the God of Steam and Machinery… Klein thought rather lightly.

More than twenty minutes later, the two of them were seated inside an interrogation room at a nearby police station.

When giving his statement, Klein calmly told the police that he was only a private detective who had accepted a commission and knew nothing about what had happened. Dr. Allen, on the other hand, described his dream in detail, as well as how it had led them to dig up the corpse.

Klein could tell that the police did not believe them at all. However, after the officers went out and made a round, their attitude immediately changed. They stated that Dr. Allen and Detective Moriarty were not suspected of anything and only needed to sign their statements before leaving.

Allen was quite astonished by this, but Klein was not surprised in the slightest. Clearly, the Nighthawks had intervened.

This was the benefit of having the doctor visit Starry Cathedral and speak to the bishop beforehand.

Just before leaving the police station, Klein unsurprisingly saw a relatively familiar figure. It was the Nighthawk who had previously entered his dream.

This Nighthawk, who might be a captain, was still wearing a gray trench coat, and at a glance looked better at resisting the cold than Klein. His blue eyes swept over, moving from Klein’s face without the slightest abnormality, pretending that he was merely an ordinary senior inspector.

Klein, who was likewise pretending to be an ordinary private detective, pushed up his glasses, put on his half top hat, left the police station together with Dr. Allen, and boarded a carriage.

After instructing his own coachman to go first to Minsk Street, Allen turned to look at Klein.

“Sherlock, do you think this matter will end here?”

“If that corpse truly is Will Auceptin, then you should no longer be troubled,” Klein said, then paused. “Allen, during this period, have you felt anything else strange? In any matter at all.”

Allen thought carefully for a while, then shook his head.

“No.”

“That is worth celebrating!” Klein exhaled and said with a smile.

For him, the best outcome would be for Will Auceptin’s matter to end here. Although the paper crane Klein had folded above the gray fog would not expose anything, and although the divination afterward indicated that there was no problem, he was still somewhat worried that a certain Nighthawk might suddenly have a flash of inspiration and find a few clues through it. Now, with Will Auceptin dead, this case might quickly walk into a dead end, be filed away, and temporarily be declared over. Unless new developments appeared, no one would continue paying attention to it.

Allen relaxed, then asked in confusion, “Frankly, I don’t think my statement was very convincing. Why did the police ultimately choose to believe us?”

“I don’t know either,” Klein said, deliberately playing dumb. “I thought I would have to ask my lawyer to come take me home again—no, bail me home.”

Allen’s lips, rarely, curved slightly.

“Sherlock, when it comes to entering police stations, you seem to have very rich experience?”

Klein laughed and answered with solemn depth, “That is the fate of every private detective.”

…

While Klein and Allen were being taken into the police station near Green Cemetery, Fors Wall, wearing an elegant black dress and a black soft hat with a fine mesh veil hanging from it, entered that somewhat quiet cemetery and found the grave belonging to Madam Anlisa.

She and Xio had gone to Queen Borough an hour earlier to look for Viscount Glaint, and had received his agreement to lend them 400 pounds without charging any interest.

Viscount Glaint’s sole requirement was that the two Beyonders accompany him to the gathering Mr. A would convene that night and protect his safety. He was in a hurry to obtain the crystallized venom of a Crown Jellyfish in order to complete the concoction of the Apothecary potion.

The horn of an adult Alicorn had already been found by Audrey in her family’s treasury. Under the pretext of conducting biological experiments, she had obtained one, effectively offsetting part of her debt.

And she had also put forward an additional condition: Glaint was to use Duke Negan’s children to confirm whether the dragon specimen in the duke’s treasury belonged to a Thousand-faced Hunter, and whether there were still points of light flickering inside it.

After securing the loan, Fors was not in a hurry to pray to Mr. Fool and complete the transaction as soon as possible. If it happened too quickly, Xio would instinctively feel something was wrong and begin suspecting her.

Taking advantage of the free time, Fors changed clothes and rented a carriage to Green Cemetery, located in the suburbs of the West Borough.

After learning of the Law of Beyonder Characteristics Indestructibility and Conservation, Fors now understood that the main ingredient through which she had become an Apprentice was the Beyonder characteristic left behind by Madam Anlisa. In a sense, she had inherited the other woman’s power.

Because of that, she could not suppress the urge to come here, place a bouquet of flowers before Madam Anlisa’s tombstone, and say thank you.

It was now early winter. Most flowers had already withered, but Fors still managed to buy a bouquet of simple, elegant fresh flowers.

They had been cultivated in a glass greenhouse and were rather expensive.

Thank you, Emperor Roselle, for your invention… Fors said sincerely in her heart.

As far as she knew, most of the flowers nobles used at winter banquets came from glass greenhouses, while a small portion was transported directly by airship from the warm southern regions. The latter was already beyond what ordinary members of the middle class could afford.

Standing before the black tombstone, Fors looked deeply at the photograph belonging to Madam Anlisa for a while, bent down, placed the flowers there, and softly said:

“Thank you.”

She immediately straightened and closed her eyes, quietly recalling the past.

Just then, she heard a slightly aged voice.

“You truly are a kind and good-hearted lady.”

Fors opened her eyes and turned her head. She found that Mr. Lawrence of the Abraham family had appeared there at some unknown time, also holding a bouquet of elegant pale flowers.

“No. This isn’t kindness, nor is it good-heartedness. Madam Anlisa once gave me, a girl who had lost her mother, a period of unforgettable warmth,” Fors said sincerely.

Her eyes suddenly grew a little moist.

Lawrence’s wrinkles were mostly at the corners of his eyes. As he placed down his flowers, he sighed and said, “That means you value relationships.”

After a bit of casual conversation, Fors was preparing to take her leave. Lawrence was just raising a hand in farewell when he suddenly began coughing violently.

Cough! Cough! Cough!

He coughed until his legs weakened, until he collapsed to the ground, looking as though he might suffocate at any moment.

As a doctor who had graduated from a proper academy, Fors turned back without hesitation, crouched down, and began emergency treatment.

After a bout of busyness, Lawrence’s condition finally stabilized. He wiped the saliva from the corners of his mouth, smiled at Fors, and said, “Miss, could you take me back to my inn?”

“No problem.” Fors helped him to his feet.

Lawrence looked ahead, his eyes slightly unfocused. He coughed lightly and laughed with a mixture of sorrow and self-mockery.

“My life may already have reached its end…”