Turning Black into White

June 11, 1399, morning.

Lynch walked out of the police club feeling refreshed, thinking that life was quite beautiful.

Because his life was at stake, Lynch dared not be lazy as he had been in his past life. As soon as his body recovered, he resumed his daily training.

It was not yet suitable for overly strenuous exercise, so after his walking drills, he chose shooting practice.

Having not seen him for half a month, the shooting instructor still remembered his proud pupil and expressed his full concern. He kindly advised Lynch to go home and rest for a few decades to fully recover before coming back, which moved Lynch deeply, before he promptly declined the offer.

Foolish denizens of this other world, you surely have never heard the old saying from my homeland about not judging a person by their past performance after only three days of separation. Looking at people with outdated biases has no future; it is time to show you what true progress looks like.

Thus, Lynch steadied his mind, braced his arm, aimed carefully, and slowly fired ten rounds.

Well, the results were not important; what mattered was accumulating a little more experience. Experience is often built up bit by bit in this way, and no one can achieve success overnight.

Right, the result actually represented nothing. It was mainly because I had not touched a gun in twenty days, my hands were rusty, and the gunpowder in this world is substandard. The muzzle drifts, making it difficult to aim.

At least the gas pipes were fine today, and instructor, even though your hair is a bit problematic, your hat is at least safe, right? So, I have still made progress.

Though I do not know why the instructor kept muttering about resigning, Lynch left the training ground feeling quite satisfied.

Outside the door, the sun was dazzling. Lynch shielded his eyes with his hand, and upon looking up, he saw a bright, radiant smile in the sunlight.

Miss Valente's face.

The elegantly made-up noble lady stood gracefully by the carriage, holding a floral parasol. Amidst the surging crowd and passing carriages, nothing could mask her radiance.

This girl is truly beautiful. No, I mean, why is she showing her real face? Did she not use that mystery relic, Karina's Exquisite Makeup?

But then I realized, that is right; today's main purpose is to meet with Chairman Grant and the sewer ghouls. She has to represent her family, so she certainly could not go there in disguise.

"That is right, there is no need to disguise myself today. And I finally have the chance to experience what it feels like for Professor Moriarty to investigate a case. It always feels like something is missing if I cannot use my real face." The noble lady shook the copy of 《The Moriarty Case Files》 she held in her arms. Just as her smile blossomed, her expression suddenly froze. "Wait, how do you even know the name of that mystery relic?"

"Because I am a detective; I deduced it..." I wanted to make up an excuse, but seeing Miss Valente's sparkling eyes and radiant smile, the lie on the tip of my tongue was swallowed back. After a moment of silence, I hung my head and replied, "Well, my inspiration is quite high, and I can directly perceive mystery relics."

"I see. It seems you had already noticed me during our first meeting at city hall. No wonder you recognized me at a glance at the square cafe later. I thought the brilliant deductions from the stories were real, but it turns out they do not exist after all. What a pity."

Though she spoke of pity, for some reason, Miss Valente's expression showed no sign of it. Instead, she beamed, her watery gaze sweeping across Lynch's face as she said softly:

"Then you must compensate me properly and show me what a real detective is like."

"Hiss, did you guess all along that I was teasing you back then?"

"Who knows?" The noble lady blinked playfully, her smile making Lynch lose his focus for a moment. "It certainly is not that. In the stories, the people around the detective are supposed to be foolish. Hehe, come on, let us get in the carriage."

Girl, what exactly are you so happy about?

Watching the noble lady's back, which resembled a cunning and mischievous fairy from mythology, Lynch stood there blankly, staring at Mr. Louis, the old butler acting as the coachman, feeling that his brain was not working well enough.

Hm? Wait, you are the butler, not a bodyguard. Why are you looking at me while touching your pistol? I did not provoke you, and what is wrong with your family? Why does everyone carry a gun?

Lynch was terrified, honestly scrambled into the carriage, and was driven toward the suburbs. On the way, he hesitated for a while but ultimately did not mention the matter of Countess Hathaway.

Of course, I can trust Miss Valente with my own affairs, but this matter also involved the countess's identity as an apostle of an evil god.

Although Bastet, the cat goddess, is a relatively gentle evil god, and the countess's identity is no secret to the royal family of Lande, she should not fear exposure. But no matter how friendly an evil god is, it is still an evil god. One cannot measure them by human standards of good and evil. It is never surprising when they suddenly do something, so it is better to be careful.

Miss Valente is a believer in the Lady of Suffering, one of the twelve major gods. The churches of the major gods and followers of evil gods have always been at odds, so after some thought, Lynch decided not to invite trouble.

Soon, the building plaques outside the carriage window became sparse, and the surroundings grew quiet.

Unlike the farmland everywhere in the Green Wheat District, this was the north of Rhine City, the road leading to Bester Mountain. On both sides of the road were rolling low hills, and the hillsides were covered in a sea of tombstones.

The Rhine City cemetery had arrived.

The Rhine Cemetery is a public institution maintained jointly by the four official religious churches of Lande, providing a resting place for the commoners of Rhine after they pass away. Although it is free, it is well maintained, the environment is quiet, the tombstones are orderly, and the corpses are buried properly in the ground; one does not see them wandering about the cemetery.

At least not during the day.

Putting away his smile and pulling his hat down to cover his face, the two stepped out of the carriage and walked into the graveyard. After circling among the tombstones for a while, they appeared beside a small monument.

The Crown Square Massacre Memorial.

It was very quiet beside the monument. Only one man, wearing an exquisitely crafted light-colored suit and a wig, stood beneath it. His cane tapped the ground irregularly, looking quite impatient.

"Chairman Grant, standing beneath this monument, how does it feel?"

Looking at this person, a fire burned in Lynch's heart. This man was the representative of Rhine City's industry, and precisely because of that, he had been chosen as the chairman of the House of Commons.

But it was this very person who not only committed the act of abusing mystery relics to kill hundreds of workers just to increase production, but also, in order to push forward the Bester Tunnel project to make a fortune, did not hesitate to help the sewer ghouls excavate Zur-Baha-Sahr, completely disregarding the potential catastrophe. He even instigated his subordinates to create the stampede massacre at Crown Square, which led to the tragic deaths of over a hundred people.

Lynch, who had just transmigrated into this world, had personally witnessed that tragedy. Watching over a hundred people being trampled to death had a huge impact on him. It was the first time he, coming from a civilized society, realized that there were truly people who would abandon their humanity for profit, even to the point of being completely insane. Therefore, Lynch had always loathed him. Unfortunately, the laws of this world were not yet perfect, and Grant had effectively cleared himself of responsibility, leaving the law unable to effectively sanction him.

"My mood is very bad. I am heartbroken." The factory owner in the wig slowly turned his head. Seeing Miss Valente's appearance did not surprise him at all; he simply replied calmly, "These people were heroes who sacrificed themselves for the development of Lande's transportation, industry, and commerce. Their sacrifice should have crushed the conspiracies of those hillmen, bringing more orders to Rhine, massive employment opportunities for over a decade, and countless Lande pounds. But unfortunately, you destroyed everything, making their deaths completely worthless. Hundreds of lives were wasted just like that, with nothing to show for it. Do you not feel heartbroken and guilty?"

Turning black into white, indeed.

Lynch clenched his fists, suppressing the fire in his heart, and looked at Miss Valente beside him. She was currently so angry that her face had turned blue and her lips were trembling.

Lynch did not consider himself a messenger of justice and had no obligation to step up for the law, but he still decided to teach him a harsh lesson, at least enough to make him suffer a heavy blow.

Right here under this monument, right in front of all the victims.