Everyone having symptoms meant everyone would follow in the footsteps of old Witt's family. Everyone was going to die, including them.
Even fully aware of this, the urge to leave failed to surface.
For no justifiable reason, they simply had to stay here, going so far as to conjure up all kinds of ridiculous excuses. They were just like the livestock refusing to leave their pens, or Witt's family, who had melted together into a soft mass and stuck to the corner of the wall.
It wasn't that some physical obstacle prevented them from leaving, but rather that a refusal to leave had been branded into the depths of their consciousness.
This was what truly chilled the two of them to the bone.
With no way out, they could only watch death inch closer step by step. It was utter despair.
'Neighbor...'
【Hm?】
'No, it's nothing.'
Lynch gritted his teeth.
Having someone to lean on and being completely dependent were two different concepts. She was his only backing, but he couldn't become dependent on her.
Turning to his neighbor for everything would only turn him into dead weight. In this life, wasn't the courage to face hardship head-on the most important thing of all?
'I only wanted to invite my dear neighbor to join me in admiring the treacherous wonders along the path of immortality.'
【Heh... My pleasure, Neighbor.】
Lynch took a deep breath, letting courage dispel his dread. Very well. I accept your challenge, mystery. Your opponent is the private detective Lynch Levive.
“The possible factors behind an occult incident.”
While the townsfolk were still bickering noisily over who should go report to the police—each demanding someone else go while refusing to leave town themselves—the female officer's voice suddenly rang in Lynch's ear.
Lynch only then realized she had recovered her senses even faster than he had, immediately analyzing countermeasures. “Occult memories encompass mystery relics, mystery documents, mysterious heteromorphs, and cultist sacrifices. Those are the four primary categories; the rest are too obscure to be of practical reference.”
“It isn't a mystery relic. We've practically traversed the entire town.”
“Hm? You've calmed down? Fast.” The officer patted Lynch on the shoulder and continued, “It doesn't seem like a mystery document either. Incidents involving documents manifest differently.”
“That leaves only heteromorphs and cultist sacrifices.” While the townsfolk continued their dispute, Lynch pondered aloud, “Although we can't determine the initial origin and omens yet, the outbreak's defining marker is definitely biological death. A certain power has affected all living beings, causing them to die one after another while preventing any living organism from leaving.”
“The beginning was likely the rampant plant growth. On our way here, I heard the mayor and the others mention that everyone's pasture grass grew extraordinarily lush this year—a sight unseen in decades. Biological anomalies are a classic omen of occult incidents. I assume plants fall under the biological category, so barring any surprises, that was likely the start.”
“No wonder. I felt the grass was growing suspiciously well earlier,” Lynch said with a nod. “Still, even if we've identified the beginning and the outbreak's marker, resolving this immediately won't be easy.”
The officer's tone remained calm and measured. “We still have a few days. Deducing from what has already transpired, the Witt family only died two days after their cattle perished. The other three households had their cattle die less than two days ago, which is why they are still alive. That gives us at least two days, possibly more.”
“No. I thought so initially too, but don't forget—neither we nor the town officials own cattle, yet we're affected all the same. This likely indicates there is no mandatory temporal link between the death of the cattle and the death of the humans; it's just that his cattle happened to die before they did. When a certain essence is depleted, death descends. Those still alive haven't survived due to a time buffer, but simply because their reserves haven't run out yet.”
“Whew. So we don't have any safe buffer at all.”
“Correct. With every passing minute, cattle or people could drop dead, and it happens collectively by household.” Lynch sighed, remarking with self-deprecating irony, “Yet we have no idea what's happening or who our opponent is, but we must race against them and eliminate them before death claims us. Scared?”
The officer expressionlessly kicked him in the shin. “Cut the chatter. Back to work.”
“Mayor...”
Standing outside the Witt livestock shelter, the stout mayor felt thoroughly uneasy as he watched the middle-aged official and the young female officer pull him aside.
They had said they needed to question him. Years of administrative experience allowed him to tell from their expressions that this matter went far beyond a few deaths.
Something catastrophic was about to happen.
“We are no longer officials looking to purchase dead cattle,” Lynch said with a straight face and an official tone. “I am an advisor to the Governor's Mansion, and she is an investigator from the units under the direct command of the King. We realized something terrible was occurring in town, and we came specifically for that.”
“What is it?” It sounded absurd, but the two held government badges and rode in a luxurious carriage, giving the mayor little choice but to believe them. The stout mayor's expression instantly tightened, his round face wrought with anxiety. “W-Will more people die? The town won't be ruined, will it?”
Both Lynch and Officer Natalie were taken aback. In a town where everyone seemed selfish, they hadn't expected someone who genuinely cared about the others.
“I was assigned here forty years ago. I watched most of the townsfolk grow up; I've long considered myself one of them. How could I not care?” The stout mayor wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed with emotion. “I don't want anything bad to happen to this town.”
His earnest tone softened Lynch's expression considerably, and he offered comforting words: “Do not worry. We are professionals here to handle the issue. Barring any accidents, the matter will be resolved shortly.”
“A-And if an accident happens?”
The female officer beside him stated flatly, “Then it will be resolved even faster.”
“She means us—everyone here.”
At that, the stout mayor's complexion turned even more ghastly.
“Heh. We'll do our best not to get 'resolved,' but that requires your cooperation.”
The stout mayor immediately straightened up and declared resolutely, “Your Excellencies, please give your orders! As long as it protects this town, I am willing to do anything—whatever the cost!”
Lynch shook his head. “It isn't that extreme. I need you to think back carefully: are there any other households that, like old Witt's family, haven't appeared at all today? Mind you, not a single member has shown up.”
“Th-This... I'll go ask around. Th-They couldn't have had something happen to them too, right?”
Seeing Lynch shake his head without answering, Mayor Mark anxiously ran toward the other townsfolk. When he returned a moment later, his expression was exceedingly grave.
There was one: a man named Carlos, who lived with his wife and six children. None of them had been seen all day.
It seemed another tragedy had struck. Lynch's lip twitched as he sighed inwardly. “Let's go. Lead the way. On the way there, explain the town's land dispute clearly to us; we suspect the two are connected.”
“It's all because of the land purchase orders. We really have those big shots in the Governor's Mansion to thank,” the stout mayor sighed as he led the way. “Over the past few years, people have frequently come to town demanding to buy their land and ranches. The townsfolk refused to sell, so they used every trick in the book to force concessions: arson, intimidation, threats... they even barricaded one family's doors once. Fortunately, everyone held firm and resolutely refused to sell.”
Lynch probed further, “Were the terms unfavorable?”
“Actually, they were very good. It was a massive sum of money, enough for the townsfolk to find a livelihood elsewhere. But the people here are traditional; they only want to spend their lives tending the land passed down through generations, staying in their homes forever, refusing to leave even in death.”
Lynch frowned and asked, “What about Will Trevor?”
“Will was my best friend here. When he was young, he inherited a substantial fortune and opened a bank in town. A few years ago, he claimed he supported the townsfolk against the land buyers. Not only did he introduce better business opportunities, but he was also willing to lend money to every household to expand their livestock operations. Nobody expected he had ulterior motives all along. Honestly, I think he genuinely wanted to help everyone at first, but for some reason, he gradually changed.”
The human heart was unpredictable; who ever remained unchanged? Lynch shook his head and said, “Do you think it's possible he orchestrated all of this?”
“It must be him. Nobody else could do something so vicious,” the stout mayor replied without hesitation.
“Mayor, we see the lights at Carlos's house!”
Shouts from the farmers ahead interrupted Lynch's inquiry. Sure enough, a farmhouse had come into view not far off.
A gas lamp flickered with dim yellow light, casting the silhouettes of the figures inside against the frosted glass window. While not entirely clear, the silhouettes appeared to be moving normally—at least they hadn't ended up like Witt's family.
“It's a bit quiet.” Lynch frowned. “Did their livestock die too?”
“Probably not?” The farmers exchanged glances. “They were still alive and well yesterday.”
“No matter. Let's make sure this family is safe first.”
As Lynch spoke, his hand slipped into his coat to grip his revolver, while signaling Officer Natalie to knock on the door.
Knock, knock, knock.
The silhouettes against the window froze, and several figures quickly huddled together. Yet no sound came from inside, as if they were too terrified to make a noise.
“Carlos, are you in there? It's Mark. We've come to check on you,” Mayor Mark asked nervously. “Don't be afraid; we'll leave as soon as we see you're all right.”
The shadows swayed, but still no one replied; the house remained dead silent.
Frowning, Lynch nodded to Officer Natalie. Drawing her sword with a metallic rasp, the female officer unleashed a flash of steel—slashing diagonally from top left to bottom right—cleaving the thick wooden door in two before rolling inside.
“Nobody else is permitted inside,” the officer's low voice called out a few seconds later. “Lynch, come take a look.”
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