Cooperation

Cooperation is an unwritten rule among the border defense troops of the Kingdom of Lande.

In cases handled by the military, accomplices must choose one of two paths: either resist to the end and share the same fate as the primary offender—usually hanging or beheading—or confess the truth to be spared punishment. Once the case is closed and the testimony verified, they can take their pay and leave.

The smuggler took less than a second to make his decision. He not only answered the officer's questions but also confessed everything honestly.

The slave owner, Walter Davis, is a male, 190 centimeters tall, with an unknown appearance. He always wears a fish head mask and carries a heavy, fishy stench. When his palms touch things, they sometimes leave behind a small amount of viscous, foul-smelling slime that is quite disgusting.

The two water thieves were his subordinates, and the smuggler had only been hired to help because he was familiar with the terrain.

It was the afternoon of the day before yesterday. He was drinking at a tavern in White Bird Port, a harbor dedicated to ocean-going vessels in Rhine City, when Davis approached him.

He knew, of course, that Davis was a wanted criminal, but in this line of work, no one was cleaner than anyone else, so there was nothing to shy away from. Besides, the slave owner's reputation for controlling puppets was well known. Between Lande pounds and having his brain turned into tentacles, he chose the money quite wisely.

At the time, there was another man he did not recognize. He heard Davis call the man Mr. Jefferson—a thin, middle-aged man in a suit wearing a monocle. With the smuggler's experience, he could tell that this person was full of philistine cunning. Yet, when he hired him, he was generous with his money, suggesting he might be a very successful businessman.

He did not know what these people intended to do. He only stepped forward to help them rent an empty warehouse near the wharf, slipped inside, and found friends to help lock it from the outside, then spent the night there.

Just a short while ago, Davis and Jefferson suddenly began conspiring, then disappeared for several minutes. During that time, explosions echoed constantly outside, terrifying the smuggler.

However, the two returned quickly, both with expressions of joy. The businessman-like Jefferson even excitedly gave the others two pounds in cash each.

But within minutes, the expressions of the two turned increasingly grim. Finally, while Davis was in a fit of rage, Jefferson whispered a few words to him, and then the two vanished with a 'whoosh'. Their target was likely a speedboat hidden on the shore beforehand. The two escaped early, leaving only the three of them to face the furious Lande Navy.

It seems it really was just one step too slow.

Although he did not say it out loud, Lynch felt a wave of annoyance in his heart.

He had done his utmost, using all the experience from his past and present lives, yet he was still two minutes late.

If only he could have been one step faster. With the power of Knight Rick's level six authority, he surely would not have let them escape. Unfortunately, he could only watch the shadows of sails, both large and small, on the river with a sense of helplessness.

It was you who provoked me first, yet you still want to take revenge and steal my goddess's memories. Fine, Jefferson, Davis, I have remembered you.

I will let you win a small round for now, but the game is not over yet. Let us continue playing.

I will make you realize that you have messed with the wrong person.

"Mr. Detective." The powerful level six knight now appeared quite respectful. "Thank you for your assistance in helping us successfully pin down Davis and Jefferson. The Archbishop has already sent men to summon an artist to draw a portrait of this Jefferson based on the smuggler's description, and we will issue a nationwide warrant for his arrest. We will also take this time to search for Davis's whereabouts with all our might. They should be together now; finding Davis means finding Jefferson."

Lynch looked at him in confusion, not knowing why he was telling him all this.

"You are a professional detective, and you have fully proven your capabilities. I was wondering, do you have any other opinions on our next move?" Archbishop Trinlais had intentionally walked away, and Knight Rick smiled awkwardly, bowing his head. "The Black Night and the Twin Moons are one. We are willing to seek aid from the Soul Severers of the Crimson Lady. We hope you will continue to guide us to drag the culprit out as soon as possible and defend the glory of the goddess."

How disingenuous. Why don't you ask if the Crimson Lady's Soul Severer is willing to accept? Neighbor, shall I refuse him? Or should I refuse the 'her' above?

【You may.】

‘Hmm? Is there any benefit to doing that?’

【Absolutely none.】

‘Then why are you telling me to refuse?’

【I am simply accompanying you, witnessing your every choice, regardless of whether your choices are normal.】

‘I feel like you are beating around the bush to insult me, but I have decided not to hold it against you.’

Having harassed the Crimson Lady in his heart, Lynch felt much better. After a moment of thought, he said, "Actually, I think that since they have already succeeded, it is unlikely they are still together. Jefferson should also be a local of Rhine; he may even have a legal identity and does not need to hide with Davis."

"Hmm? On what basis do you make that judgment?"

"Of course I do. I remember you said it was a three-day journey on the road, right? That means the timeline for this matter is actually very tight."

"What do you mean?"

"On the 15th, I made an enemy of the Ancient Flicker. On the morning of the 16th, Archbishop Trinlais decided to expedite the transfer of the commission—the memories of the Red Moon—to be delivered to me. I am not sure of your specific methods, but the letter should have arrived that day. Then on the 17th, the cargo was loaded and departed. Three days of travel—the 17th, 18th, and 19th—and today we arrived in Rhine. I believe my itinerary calculation is correct."

"Correct."

"That is to say, Jefferson's plan could only have been formulated on the 17th at the earliest. The smuggler was hired on the afternoon of the 18th, and by the time he was hired, Davis had already joined Jefferson's plan. This means Jefferson must have contacted Davis by the morning of the 18th at the latest. Considering that people like Davis cannot be found just anywhere and require time to contact, the time he started engaging with Davis was the 17th. That is to say, the moment the transport plan was made over there, the news was received here, and the theft operation began to be arranged."

Knight Rick nodded vigorously.

"He had no time to rush here from another region. This means he was in Rhine City at the time, and it is highly likely he is a local. Therefore, I suggest that instead of fixating on Davis, who has been wanted for years without being caught, we shift our focus and start with this Jefferson."

"But we have no clues about this Jefferson," Rick said, troubled.

"No, on the contrary. Compared to Davis, who has been cautious for years while being a wanted man, Jefferson has left us plenty of clues."

Lynch sneered and took out the three pieces of paper he had collected, all of which bore portraits of the Ancient Flicker.

"This pattern seems to be a necessity for him to use his teleportation ability, exchanged with the target. To support the ability, he likely carries quite a few on him. The problem is, for such a complex pattern, drawing one or two is fine, but he could not possibly have enough free time for many. So, look, this thing was not drawn at all; it was printed with ink."

"What is that?" Knight Rick, who had lived in the church for many years, was a bit confused.

"Like a newspaper, mass-produced by machine."

Lynch had a sudden flash of insight. He realized that this world was not like his hometown, where print shops were everywhere. Printing presses were still quite rare in this world; there were not many in all of Rhine City.

And since this Jefferson was a local, the portraits of the Flicker were most likely made locally in Rhine City. By following the trail of the printing press, it would be very likely that they could unearth his tracks.

And as for printing presses... in this era, who is more familiar with the distribution of printing plants than a newspaper reporter? And he happened to be keeping a veteran reporter on his payroll.

Heh, Jefferson, Davis, it seems our second round is about to begin.

I am coming for you.