The Missing Corpse

“Digging,” Dr. Sven said. She raised both hands toward the four of them, flexing ten razor-sharp claws. Her expression reminded Lynch of the Big Bad Wolf trying to scare Little Red Riding Hood—not terrifying in the slightest, just a little silly.

“You probably didn't know, but ghouls are expert burrowers. It makes sneaking in to eat corpses much easier.”

The four exchanged glances. Not even Diana knew about that; the hillmen probably felt too embarrassed to scavenge for food in front of her.

“Their excuse sounds reasonable enough, but it reeks of a guilty conscience trying to cover something up. Locking down the cemetery might work on people, but thinking that'll stop a ghoul is a bit naive.”

“You're going to dig your way in?”

“The child's grave hasn't been disturbed on the surface. Whether a burial plot has been tampered with can't fool our eyes. But that's just on the outside. Don't forget, the mastermind has a ghoul helping them. Digging up a corpse without anyone noticing is child's play.” Dr. Sven waved a clawed hand and slipped backward into the gloom. “Wait here for a bit. I'll be right back.”

Lowering her posture, she swiftly vanished among the sparse trees, leaving the four standing dumbfounded.

From a distance, the people in the cemetery seemed genuinely dedicated to their patrol, clutching farm implements like pitchforks, axes, and scythes as if truly determined to protect their ancestors' eternal rest. Meanwhile, that distinctly dressed middle-aged steward paced diligently through the cemetery, his expression focused and resolute, as though dead set on catching the slightest suspicious sign.

“Do you think...” After crouching behind the trees for over ten minutes, Officer Natalie stared at Steward Locke and murmured, “Does he even know his young master's corpse has already been dug up?”

“We haven't confirmed the corpse is gone yet, have we?” The three jumped in surprise. The first to respond was actually Judy. At some point, the girl had snapped out of her daze and was now eagerly peeking from behind the trees right alongside them.

The lady officer merely shook her head with a faint smile, offering no further explanation, while Miss Diana chuckled softly. “Since Mr. Lynch made the deduction, the probability is extremely high. We trust his judgment. If we didn't even have that level of trust, we wouldn't have let him take the lead. Still, I suspect the steward really might be in the dark about this.”

“Oh?” Lynch raised an eyebrow. “Can you tell?”

“Yes. Reading people is an instinct etched into a noble's very soul; I have some confidence in it. From the orders he just barked out, you can tell he genuinely believes his master is trying to protect this cemetery. But whether he knew about the incident at the South Gate earlier is hard to say. How about... we go ask him?”

Lynch felt tempted, but after a moment's hesitation, he rejected the idea.

“Shouting in the forest will only scare the bear away. Let's wait for Dr. Sven's findings before jumping to conclusions.”

“Dr. Sven doesn't seem to have suspected us from the start,” Natalie noted. “Even I think we look pretty suspicious. How can she trust us so readily?”

A trace of confusion surfaced in Lynch's eyes as well. “I don't get it either. Earlier, to keep her from getting suspicious, I made a point of laying out all our non-confidential objectives right in front of her. But later, it felt like I was overthinking it. She seemed to believe our identities right from the beginning, and then believed we weren't the masterminds. Could it just be our accent?”

“No, that would be far too reckless.”

Soft footsteps approached from behind. While canines didn't tread as silently as felines, their steps were still extraordinarily hard to hear. Turning their heads, they saw the ghoul doctor crouched on all fours a short distance behind them. There was no telling how long she had been there. Luckily, as a precaution, the four hadn't discussed anything too sensitive, or they might have blown their cover on the spot.

“I indeed believed you weren't locals from the very start, but it had nothing to do with language.”

“Why, then?”

“Accents can be learned, but scent never lies. The moment I laid eyes on you, I could tell you hadn't been in contact with a ghoul—or anyone directly connected to one—for quite some time. At least half a month. You smelled as clean as a blank sheet of paper, which told me you couldn't possibly belong to this city. And once I realized this affair was deeply entangled with ghouls, that eliminated your suspicion even further. Not only had you avoided ghouls for a while, but you hadn't been in contact with the mastermind either. You were trustworthy.”

“Hiss... you can smell that sort of thing?”

Lynch was taken aback. He recalled how, when investigating the Maya incident and tailing the Rangers, he had caught the foul stench of rot on them and suspected they had gotten it from ghouls. It seemed that had indeed been the case. Fortunately, the smell only lingered for half a month; if it lasted two or three months, he wouldn't be able to wash himself clean even if he jumped into the Lande River.

“Humans can't smell it, but we can. That's why I was willing to believe you bore no ill will. Besides, you hardly lied to me. I don't dislike you; you're a good bunch of humans.”

“Well, thank you very much,” Lynch said with an awkward smile, swiftly steering the subject away. “How did the digging go?”

The ghoul doctor glanced around stealthily. Once she confirmed no one was near, she slipped behind a tree. When she stepped back out, she had already reverted to her human form, though her clothes were covered in dirt.

Patting the dust from her clothes, Dr. Sven said, “You were right. The corpse has already been taken.”

“What?”

“Barring any surprises, it was done by that kin of mine helping the culprit,” Dr. Sven explained. “I found a tunnel underground. It was dug using a method unique to our kind—something that can't be faked. The tunnel is very fresh, no more than three days old, and it leads straight to Jackson's younger son's grave without a single fork. That proves he came specifically for this corpse, and someone gave him an exact marker.”

For a time, all five fell silent. As more and more evidence surfaced, City Lord Jackson's suspicion had grown too large to ignore.

Yet this was the most troublesome outcome. The city lord was the most powerful person in the city. For outsiders like Lynch and his companions, stopping his secret scheme was easier said than done. Unless they could convince the vast majority of citizens and soldiers just as they had convinced Dr. Sven, there was nothing they could do, even knowing full well that the city lord was the mastermind behind the ritual.

But could they really convince the majority?

“It's very difficult. At the very least, current evidence only proves he had the capability; it's still not sufficient,” Dr. Sven said. “In fact, until I found that tunnel just now, I remained skeptical of your deduction. Deep down, I kept feeling it couldn't be City Lord Jackson. He didn't seem like that kind of person.”

“So you really do know him?” Lynch sighed. “Given your standing in the military, being just a doctor didn't explain it. I suspected you had ties to the city lord.”

“And yet you still came right out and told me the culprit was the city lord?”

“What else was I supposed to do?” Lynch countered. “We're doing this to help you in the first place. If we found something, we couldn't very well keep you in the dark. As for how you treat the city lord afterward, that's your choice. I told you yesterday: our stance is with you.”

“That's another reason why I was willing to trust you,” Dr. Sven murmured, her mood sinking as she spoke softly. “My family and the city lord... I suppose we could be considered acquaintances...”