The Real Culprit

This was trouble.

Lynch felt a throbbing headache, any joy from defeating a formidable foe instantly evaporating.

The fact that he still couldn't feel the urge or possibility to leave the town meant this incident was far from over.

Now that Trevor was dead, where was he supposed to ask for the details?

If the problem wasn't resolved, wouldn't everyone die here?

“Phew, what a headache. How did he actually die, and what are these two things?”

“Snake men. Underground heteromorphs, roughly rank two to three in authority. Most of them worship the Lord of Serpents, and they're rarely seen on the surface. You've only stepped into this world for fifty days; I really didn't expect you could kill one on your own. I still remember how disheveled you were facing the terror claws. You've truly grown.”

Lynch smiled faintly. “What else could I do? I can't just stand by and watch someone fight all alone.”

Officer Angel’s cheeks flushed slightly. She glared at him and awkwardly shifted the subject: “Remember, these creatures are naturally cunning and brutal, bloodthirsty and violent, and extremely dangerous. I suspect Trevor made a mistake during his sacrificial ritual, unintentionally summoned the snake men, and was killed by them.”

“Is that possible?”

“Very likely. Sacrifices are always dangerous, whether to others or to cultists themselves.” Officer Angel frowned. “Still, it's only a possibility. There could be other explanations.”

“Let me check.”

He pressed his palm against the ground and activated his ability.

【Authority, Death, Ability, Death Omen】

The world before him drained into black and white, and the scene of death replayed in blurry line projections.

Indeed, Will Trevor had knelt beside the pool of blood, chanting. The blood pool suddenly roiled violently, and two snake men emerged. Panicked, Trevor hadn't even managed to stand before a snake man slit his throat with a blade.

“That was indeed the sequence, but did he really make a mistake?”

To have their prime lead taken out before they could extract evidence left Lynch thoroughly frustrated. But since matters had come to this, he could only accept it for now.

The townsfolk were frantically searching for the contracts they had signed with Will Trevor, though they hadn't found them yet. The gentlemen from town didn't stop them, instead helping to maintain order from the sidelines. Since Trevor was dead, these debts would likely end up unsettled and forgotten anyway.

It seemed things would work in their favor—assuming everyone here survived this ordeal. The mysterious incident remained unresolved; who knew when people would start dropping dead?

Perhaps the very next second?

Patter, patter, patter.

Hurried footsteps echoed from the distance. Someone came running over with a torch, panting heavily.

The moment the runner reached the crowd, before catching their breath, they let out a sharp, stammering cry:

“The c-cows! Our cattle are all dead! Everyone's cows... every single one of them is dead!”

A massive uproar broke out. The eyes of the searching farmers turned bloodshot. Just moments ago, they were thinking they had gotten away with free loans without needing to pay back their debts, only to lose everything in an instant. The staggering reversal drove the crowd near madness.

Everyone bolted like madmen toward their homes. Those cattle represented years of painstaking effort, including many young calves that hadn't matured yet. If they were all dead, it was total ruin.

Yet reality was merciless. Not a single cow had survived; all lay dead in their barns.

Fortunately, the people and other livestock were unharmed.

By now, it was almost midnight. The fat mayor dragged his rotund body, leading everyone in town to gather beneath the bell tower.

Too many tragedies had unfolded tonight; no one could sleep.

Before the crowd, the fat mayor began to solemnly proclaim the crimes of the banker, Will Trevor.

He had killed everyone's livestock and brought gruesome slaughter upon three entire households—crimes so heinous they were utterly appalling.

For a time, righteous indignation swept through the crowd. Eyes blazing red, they wished they could tear down Trevor's villa right then and there.

Curses and fury echoed across the assembly.

Lynch and Officer Angel stood aside, watching. Hearing Will Trevor's list of crimes, Lynch found it deeply ironic.

The incident was still ongoing. What was the point of listing his crimes when death would soon claim them all anyway?

Besides, the deaths of those last cattle felt peculiar. Something seemed off.

“What's wrong? At least those cows didn't turn into desiccated husks of skin and bones,” Officer Natalie sighed softly. “Otherwise...”

“Wait.” Lynch's expression grew unprecedentedly solemn, his voice dropping low. “What did you just say?”

“The cows didn't turn into desiccated corpses. Did you think of something?”

Lynch raised a hand, signaling Officer Angel to remain quiet for a moment. Then he lit his pipe and took a deep pull of the soul-calming grass smoke.

An invisible thread connected the pieces in his mind. The doubts that had lingered since the start of the investigation gradually began to clear up.

I get it.

Lynch's eyes lit up. He grabbed Officer Angel's hand as she stood guard beside him and whispered a few words into her ear. Officer Angel looked bewildered, but she turned and sprinted off, vanishing into the darkness in the blink of an eye.

It wasn't until over ten minutes later that she returned, looking puzzled, and nodded at Lynch.

Then there's no mistake. It's my show now.

Just as the corners of Lynch's mouth curled up, the denunciation of Will Trevor continued.

“Though Mick Malin took his own life, the deaths of his wife and child also weigh heavily on my heart,” the fat mayor sniffled, choking back a sob. “Will was so cold-blooded that he didn't even spare children. I...”

“Hold on a moment, Mr. Mayor.” Lynch tugged Officer Angel along as he stepped forward in front of the townsfolk. Taking the tin megaphone, he projected his voice loudly: “I believe we've all made a mistake. Mr. Will Trevor was likely not the culprit behind this incident—at least, not entirely.”

What? An uproar erupted across the square as people began shouting in confusion, throwing the scene into chaos.

Officer Angel took a fierce step forward, a thunderous roar bursting from her well-proportioned frame: “All of you, shut up and listen to him!”

【Authority, Law, Ability, Deterrence】

The clamor cut off instantly. No one dared make another sound, plunging the assembly into eerie silence.

“Heh. In fact, until just a moment ago, I thought the same as you. But we were all wrong. While he was indeed vile and wicked, certain things cannot be blamed on him.”

“There is no connection between the deaths of the cattle and the annihilation of those three families. The two were carried out independently, which is why the dead cattle showed two distinctly different states: desiccated husks and normal carcasses.”

“I only just realized that these are actually two separate events. Didn't you notice? The cattle that died last had normal carcasses, with no signs of desiccation. This proves that the victim cattle from the initial four so-called 'cattle murrain' cases were killed through Mr. Trevor's methods. The cows that dried into husks weren't his doing—they were caused by the true mastermind behind the three family massacres.”

“How is that possible? The cows belonging to those families died too!”

Having witnessed everything from the beginning, the mayor was the most shocked, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“Nothing is impossible. It all comes down to the condition of the cattle.”

Lynch's tone grew firmer, his thoughts crystal clear:

“The cattle exhibited four conditions: First, dying first and then turning into desiccated corpses. Second, turning directly into desiccated corpses and dying. Third, not dying at all, merely hiding in their stalls. And fourth, dying without becoming desiccated corpses.”

“Among these four conditions, the third—the cattle hiding in their stalls—is very similar to the people from those three households who hid in their homes; they can be regarded as the same condition. Meanwhile, the first and second conditions—the bizarre deaths—match the eerie deaths of the three slaughtered households and can be categorized together. In other words, conditions one, two, and three form a single whole, sharing the exact same circumstances as the three butchered families. They are the consequence of one unified event.”

“The fourth condition, however—dying without becoming desiccated husks—appears completely superfluous. I felt its presence was jarring before, but couldn't put my finger on why. Just now, I finally realized that it represents the outcome of an independent event. That means the initial four 'cattle murrain' deaths were committed by someone else: the late Mr. Will Trevor. He only wanted to kill cattle, not people. The person who wanted to kill people is someone else entirely.”

Lynch's deduction was delivered rapidly and with intricate logic. For a while, even after Officer Angel's ability wore off, the crowd remained completely silent.

In truth, it was a bit like casting pearls before swine; most uneducated farmers couldn't follow the complex reasoning. They were simply cowed by Lynch's unwavering conviction, nodding along in dazed bewilderment.

However, the town officials understood it clearly, looking utterly astounded. Meanwhile, Officer Natalie stood in the shadows, holding down her top hat, its brim concealing her softened gaze.

“Then who on earth did it?!”

The mayor finally snapped out of his daze, asking the question on everyone's minds.

“Indeed, who did it?” Lynch said with a faint smile. “That brings us back to Mr. Trevor's death.”

“Officer Angel and I initially thought his death was an accident. But thinking carefully, couldn't it have been deliberate? If the method he used to kill those cows was something he devised himself, an accident would certainly be plausible. But what if someone else taught it to him? That opens up endless possibilities. The previous attempts succeeded because that person taught him the correct method. This time failed because the method itself was deliberately flawed.”

“No, not merely flawed. How could an error conveniently summon monsters by sheer coincidence? That's too convenient. In the world of the occult, there are no coincidences. It is far more likely that this method was specifically designed from the start to summon monsters and eliminate poor Mr. Trevor.”

“Who could this person be? An outsider? No. This final sacrifice was clearly decided on impulse, which means this trap targeting Mr. Trevor was set on short notice. Since no one can leave this place right now, the orchestrator couldn't be an outsider—it had to be someone from this town. But why would Mr. Trevor listen to them? Did he trust them deeply? Does anyone know who he trusted most?”

The townsfolk exchanged looks. That miser only cared about money; he didn't even have a wife or children. Aside from money, the only thing he trusted was probably his vault.

“I happen to know,” Lynch sneered. “Someone casually mentioned that he was Will Trevor's best friend. Isn't that right, Mr. Mayor?”

Boom.

Lynch's parting words practically detonated the entire assembly. Every eye snapped toward the chubby mayor.

How could that be? The mayor had maintained the image of a benevolent, kind-hearted man for years, tirelessly working for the town. It was impossible for him to do such a thing. This outsider had to be talking nonsense.

And yet... it seemed to make sense. Could it really be true?

“You're talking nonsense!”

The fat mayor never expected suspicion to fall upon him. His face twisted in rage:

“I've been in this town for forty years! When have I ever wronged anyone here? Even if you're from the city government, you have no right to insult me like this! I have no reason whatsoever to do something so monstrous!”

“If you ask me how you pulled it off, I honestly don't know. But as for your motive, I can guess the gist of it.”

Under the gaze of hundreds of onlookers, Lynch stood tall and composed, speaking calmly:

“There was a saying in the Mythological Era: speak too much, and flaws will inevitably show. You must remember that next time.”

The corner of the fat mayor's eye twitched. He opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a word.

“These past few years of land purchase orders have dragged Wilson Town into enormous trouble, haven't they, Your Honor? If things continued like this, sooner or later, the town's lands would be swallowed up by wealthy city folk and factory owners. When that happened, everyone would scatter, and the town would cease to have any reason to exist. Just this afternoon, you told us you would do anything to protect the town. Did that include tonight's tragedy?”

The fat mayor pressed his lips together in silence.

“You also said the people refused to sell their land even if it killed them—that the townsfolk would rather die on their soil than leave. So, you helped fulfill their wish and let them die on their land?” Lynch sighed. “Mr. Mayor, you cooperated with us quite well today, and our collaboration was pleasant. Personally, I really wished this wasn't true. But the suspicion on you is simply too overwhelming. Your excessive cooperation this afternoon was merely to steer our attention toward Mr. Trevor. I admit these are my speculations and I lack hard evidence, but... Kingdom Watchers and Governor's Mansion advisors aren't ordinary police. Sufficient suspicion is all we need; we don't need formal proof. Still, there is one thing I cannot comprehend: did you truly want everyone to die here? Why would you use such a method to protect the town?”

“Why shouldn't I? What I wanted to protect was this town, not them! They all deserve to die!” The fat mayor's expression suddenly warped into something sinister and grotesque. Gritting his teeth, he shouted hysterically, “That damned Will actually colluded with outsiders, using contracts to ruin others, trying to swallow up all the land in town! He knew I worshipped the Father of Serpents, so he asked me to help him fake a cattle murrain to terrify people. He had to die! And these people—they dared to mortgage the land passed down by their ancestors! They never truly cared about coexisting with the land; they just wanted to make more money! They deserve to die too!”

“This is my town! I fought for it for forty years; no one is taking it from me! Hahahaha! I'm going to make everyone stay here with me forever! Nobody leaves!”

His wild laughter echoed beneath the bell tower. Perhaps because his laughter was so utterly deranged, the previously enraged townsfolk grew eerily quiet instead. Chilled by his suffocating malice, their faces turned pale. Plunged into stunned silence, they could only listen to the mayor's solitary cackles.

“So what method did you actually use?” Lynch pressed.

“Why would I ever tell you?! Hahaha! It has already matured! It is awakening! Before long, we will all die here, never able to leave! Even if you've unmasked me, so what? You can do nothing! You can only die alongside us! Hahahaha, I will never tell you—give up on that hope!”

Lynch sighed, shaking his head. “No need to get so agitated. I was just asking casually. In truth, we already know where the problem lies.”

“Impossible!” The mayor's eyes bulged as he glared viciously at Lynch.

“You've already laid all your cards on the table, Mr. Mayor. The moment you mentioned 'it,' we knew this was a special heteromorph. As professionals who specialize in handling such incidents, we have experiences ordinary people lack,” Lynch explained patiently. “Since we noticed the abnormal growth of the pasture grass, of course we wouldn't ignore it. The wild overgrowth covered nearly the entire town, but only nearly. With careful observation, the perimeter of its expansion is easy to discern.”

“Just now, I asked Officer Angel to verify it. It forms a roughly circular boundary. With simple measurements, one can find the center point. Barring any surprises, the center is where this heteromorph resides, isn't it? Though there's no time for precise surveying right now, a rough estimate makes it clear: the center point is the town center, allowing it to cover the entire town.”

“I wager the source is right in the bell tower behind you. Am I right, Mr. Mayor?”