Luring reporters to a designated spot in advance, pulling them into a dream to witness the Valente family colluding with pirates, and then having influential newspapers spread the story.
Lynch had seen this trick far too many times in his past life. It was a classic media war tactic: using reporters as weapons.
Although there was no evidence to cause any real, lasting damage to the Valente family, it would not only tarnish the family's reputation but also leave them in a highly passive position for some time.
Without needing to ask, the person from the Dockworkers’ Mutual Aid Association who provided the lead was undoubtedly compromised.
The Valente family carriage followed behind a dusty, ordinary carriage, stopping along the side of a wide, clean boulevard.
The night was deep, and the avenue was empty. Only the gas streetlamps stood guard, refusing to shirk their duty. Unlike the streets further away, where dilapidated lamps had long since lost their luster and blended into the surrounding trash, this area was well maintained.
This was the residential district near White Bird Port, where the living conditions were bizarrely polarized, like heaven and hell separated by a single wall.
On one side, the houses were shabby and dilapidated. Garbage and waste, uncollected for over a week, piled up in the weeds along the roadside. A dozen burly men would cram into a single small room, leaving early and returning late, their combined stench of sweat, foot odor, and rotting trash keeping passersby at a distance.
The other side was the complete opposite: a clean and beautiful environment where bright, spacious detached villas stood, and well dressed gentlemen and ladies lived leisurely lives.
One side housed dockworkers and laborers, while the other was the residence of port officials, merchants, and brokers. Sometimes separated by only a single wall, they lived as if in two different worlds.
"Mark, the head of the publicity office for the Dockworkers’ Mutual Aid Association. A mid level figure."
Maya climbed out of the dusty carriage and pointed toward a villa with a garden not far away.
Lynch's mouth twitched. He could not fathom why a mid level official representing the interests of dockworkers would live in such a beautiful, wealthy neighborhood. It was not only clean and tidy, but there were even blue uniforms patrolling the streets throughout the night.
However, as soon as they encountered a luxurious carriage bearing a family crest, the patrols turned onto another street, whether by coincidence or simply because they failed to notice these two suspicious carriages.
"You come with us. The other three will wait outside."
Lynch signaled, climbed over the fence, opened the courtyard gate, and led the two ladies into the residence.
However, the moment he stepped inside, Lynch frowned. A slight, stinging sensation pricked at the center of his forehead.
This was the stimulus of mystery contamination. Sensing filth the moment he entered an area conceptually was a classic sign of corruption present in the room.
"Something happened."
Lynch shifted his gaze toward the source of the strongest stinging sensation. A dark, shadowy lump lay on the ground. He gave Miss Valente a look, signaling her to ready her gun and stay vigilant, then approached with his cane in hand.
It was a large dog lying on the ground.
No, it was a corpse. It had already lost all signs of life.
There were no visible wounds on the body, but its belly was bloated and distended.
"Let me."
Miss Valente's voice came from behind. The noble lady patted Lynch's shoulder, taking over the task of standing guard with her gun while Lynch stood up. She crouched down to examine the corpse.
"Drowned. There is still water in its lungs. It died recently."
"Huh? Drowned in a garden?" Lynch's eye twitched. Anything could happen in the world of mystery. "We may have arrived too late. Let's go inside and take a look."
"Yes, let's hope we are still in time."
Unfortunately, it seemed they were already too late.
Using his phantasmal sound ability, Lynch kicked the door open silently. The three searched the house quickly in the dark. On the second floor, in the master bedroom, they finally found their target: the master of the house, Mark, and his wife.
The two were lying in bed, appearing to be in a deep sleep. However, upon closer inspection, the woman's body was already ice cold, and Mark had also ceased breathing. Both had drowned; their bodies were bloated, and murky water overflowed from their mouths and noses. There were no signs of a struggle on the bed; they had seemingly lost their lives in their sleep without even realizing it.
Deep ones.
Such a bizarre method of death made the thought occur to all three of them simultaneously. Just as Lynch felt a chill in his heart, he heard Miss Valente give a soft gasp.
"This man... his chest is still warm." She pointed to Mark. "He is not completely dead yet."
"Still salvageable?"
"I will try."
The noble lady flipped Mark's body over the edge of the bed and pounded on his back with force. Some murky water was squeezed out, but it was clearly not the accumulated fluid that would be expelled if he regained active breathing.
"It is no use. Too much time has passed. He is effectively dead; he just has not fully expired yet."
"We are too late. Clearly, he was silenced. Such a bizarre death basically reveals the killer's identity, but unfortunately we... hm? You said he has not fully expired?"
"Yes, why?"
"Let me take over. I have the death authority ability, End Resonance, though it is a bit..."
Lynch and Miss Valente swapped places. Looking at the middle aged man with pale, bloated skin and water on his face, he suddenly felt a wave of nausea.
Does this really have to be pressed against my forehead?
『Yes, Lynch. Giggle. Unfortunately.』
No, why do I feel like your voice is filled with malice?
『That is just your imagination. You said you would trust me.』
I may not be well read, but I am not an idiot. Your malice is practically materializing. How can a goddess be so vicious?
Lynch gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes. He removed his glove and pressed his finger against the center of Mark's forehead. An invisible mist surged from his body, flowing into the stiff corpse through his fingertip.
In an instant, a tearing pain erupted in his chest, and his brain flooded with an intense sensation of suffocation. Lynch gasped desperately, trying to breathe, but every time he opened his mouth, large gulps of foul, salty water poured in.
Damn it, is this death?
His physical strength felt like it was being drained away. Lynch struggled frantically but could not break free, forced to let the water fill his lungs, squeezing out the last trace of air.
I am going to die, I am going to die. Why is this so terrifying?
His vision turned white, and his consciousness sank into chaos. But in the final moments of lingering life, Lynch caught a glimpse of an extremely blurred image.
The figure of a young woman handed a covered box to him, a faint red glow emanating from the cracks in the box: "Go, give this to those people. They will tell you what to do next."
The scene shifted. An ugly, hulking man reeking of fish took the wooden box, handed over a pile of bright gold coins, and jumped into the sea with the box without a word.
The scene shifted again. Someone stuffed a stack of banknotes into his hand: "One more task for you. Tell them to wait under Shark Tooth Reef at 9:00 tomorrow night. There is big news regarding the pirates."
The images grew blurrier, and his breathing grew weaker. Just as his consciousness was about to dissipate, the white mist retracted into Lynch's body in an instant. Lynch stumbled back a few steps, falling powerlessly to the floor, gasping for air. He felt as if his chest were still being torn apart.
A soft hand grasped his. Lynch opened his eyes to see Miss Valente's concerned gaze. The noble lady was biting her lip gently, her large eyes unblinking.
"I am fine." Lynch squeezed Miss Valente's hand back and whispered, "I caught a big fish."
"What is it?"
"It is highly likely that Flaming Red Lips was sent to the deep ones by Princess Chloe. I do not know if she wanted the deep ones to find something, but if so, it is going to be trouble because there are still many deep ones left, and they are about to leave land, with an unknown destination. Also, someone did pay to bribe him to set a trap for the reporters. I do not know who it was, but based on the conversation, it is likely Chloe as well."
"So if we want to keep the gemstone in our own hands and prevent them from finding that mystery relic, we have to act against the deep ones?" Miss Valente asked, her face pale with distress. "That is too dangerous. I cannot let you sneak in to steal it again."
"No, I actually have an idea."
Lynch wiped the sweat from his face and revealed a faint smile.
Borrowing a knife to kill, driving a tiger to devour a wolf—this was the wisdom of his past life.
Now is the perfect time to call for reinforcements.
Manager West, I am truly sorry, but I am coming to find you.
Rate on N.U.
