32 Fox Lane

“Look, right at the mouth of the alley, sticking his head out.”

Under the fierce glare of the female officer, Lynch pulled her into a passageway between two buildings not far from the cafe and pointed toward the pile of clutter outside Fox Lane, where a group of children were peering about.

There were more than a dozen kids ranging in age from seven or eight to their early teens. Their identities were uncertain, but they were likely all children of nearby residents.

Lynch recognized one of the bratty kids who had taken part in the mugging that afternoon—the very one who had first whipped Martha with a tree branch to lure him into the trap—which in turn reminded him of Martha having her behind spanked red.

“The photograph Donnie mentioned on the note was probably delivered to him by Martha. Maya was already in hiding at the time, so it's unlikely she contacted Donnie directly; otherwise, there would have been no need for Martha to deliver it. And since Martha didn't know Donnie, it would've been difficult for them to arrange a meeting spot. There's a high probability she brought it straight to his house. So, Martha likely knows Donnie's address.”

“Yet you didn't ask her.”

“Yeah, I didn't dare to,” Lynch frowned. “A few days ago, Drunken Peter committed suicide under bizarre circumstances simply for acting as an intermediary contact for me. I'm worried that if I ask that child, she might suffer the same fate as Drunken Peter. So I wanted to ask you first—could something like that happen?”

“It could.”

“Huh? Really?”

“It's not a certainty, but there is indeed a possibility. Not because she's directly entangled in the incident itself, but because she is quite close to us. When we consciously seek her help, conceptually it is no longer ‘us obtaining information from her,’ but ‘her investigating information alongside us.’ This would automatically establish a form of joint investigation, allowing the mystery to reach the individual named Martha along the concept of ‘joint investigation.’ What's more, Martha has had past experience with mystery contact, making her even more susceptible to erosion.”

“Hm? But she knew the information first, and only then did we obtain it. Isn't that reversing the chronological order?”

“You asked a similar question when we first met. I reminded you that in the world of mystery, chronological sequence is often disordered; what truly matters are the causal relationships we cannot comprehend. Your informant was actually tied in because of a similar conceptual connection. So your concern was justified—this is precisely why mystery must stay far away from ordinary people. It seems you're already learning to think like a mystery hunter, trying to avoid embroiling ordinary people as much as possible.”

“According to what you're saying, as long as it isn't Martha, it's merely obtaining information rather than a joint investigation, so there won't be this problem, right?”

Lynch stared at the children in the distance from inside the passageway, his smile turning as creepy as a pervert's.

“I understand.”

The two exchanged a peculiar glance, leaned in close to whisper for a while, and then the female officer quietly left the passageway.

“Hey, you brats! What are you trying to steal this time?”

Several filthy children were gathered around the alley entrance. While the older one was still peeking inside, a sharp shout suddenly barked from behind them.

Without even turning their heads to look, the children let out a collective shriek and scattered in practiced fashion, not forgetting to warn the one at the entrance: “Ah, someone's coming! Robert, run!”

“Stop right there!”

The terrifying pursuer behind them let out a dragon-like roar, followed by the clatter of footsteps charging after them. Terrified, the children shrieked even louder, melting into the narrow alleys between the low-rise buildings in the blink of an eye.

The boy who had been peering into the alley was clearly targeted by the pursuer. After several turns, he failed to shake them off, finally ducking into a deserted corridor to escape the terrifying foe.

Phew, good thing they didn't follow me in. That was terrifying.

“Right? I think she's terrifying too.”

“Yeah, totally... W-w-w-who's that?!”

“Hehehe, I found you, delicious child.”

The sudden voice behind him made the kid's legs turn to jelly. Then, a cold hand pinched the back of his neck, causing him to choke out a gasp, roll his eyes back, and faint on the spot.

Behind him, Lynch's figure emerged from the shadows, grabbing the kid by the collar and hoisting him up. Officer Natalie walked into the corridor with an odd expression, though she deliberately kept some distance between herself and Lynch, shooting him sidelong glances from time to time.

“What's the matter with you?”

“I've noticed that even though it's a completely normal ability, whenever you use it, it somehow comes off as sinister and sleazy. Plus, it always makes me feel a sense of impending dread, like something awful is going to happen to me in the future.” The female officer cracked her knuckles. “Maybe I should just lock you up first—before you commit a crime.”

“If anyone's getting locked up, it should be this little rascal.” Lynch quickly held the kid up in front of him and gave him a shake. “This kid is rotten to the core.”

“How is he?”

“Not moving right now. Probably scared to death. He's useless anyway, so let's chop him up and toss him into the Lande River.”

“Don't chop me up! I'm not dead, I'm not dead!” The child instantly clutched his head and wailed at the top of his lungs.

“Still dare to yell? That's what you get for playing dead.” Lynch slapped the back of his head—it had a nice, satisfying thwack—and followed it with another slap. “That's for putting a sack over my head! That's for throwing stones at me! That's for mugging me! Don't think I forgot—you were the most active one that day!”

“Aaargh! Stop hitting me! I'm sorry, I won't do it again!”

“Alright, stop hitting him. He's just a child; don't actually traumatize him.” Officer Natalie sighed, walked over, and grabbed the child's hand, saying with feigned pity, “Just chop off his hands, break his legs, and let him go. Don't make things hard for him.”

“Help!” The child bawled in terror on the spot, frantically trying to pull his hand back. But how could the strength of an ordinary child compete against a rank three authority Soul Severer? The officer's hand remained completely motionless.

The female officer gave a cold sneer. “Now you know fear? Then be good and give us Donnie Narton's address. Tell us, and we'll let you go.”

“Who's that?! I don't know him! Let me go! I won't do bad things anymore! Spare my life!”

Seeing that he couldn't break free, the little boy's eyes darted around, and he suddenly shrieked for mercy, loud enough to be heard across several streets.

Yet even though there were police officers not far outside, not a single one came over to check.

Authority, Concealment, Ability, Phantasmal Sound—the sound couldn't escape at all.

“Go on, scream all you want. If anyone outside hears even a squeak, I lose. Hmph, scream until you're blue in the face—no one is coming to save you.” Lynch gave the little rascal another slap on the head and said crossly, “Alright, shut up and listen to me first. If you scream again, I really will chop you up and throw you by the roadside. People around here are poor; if they see meat, they won't care whose it is—they'll take it home and pan-fry it as steaks.”

“No...” Just as the child was about to cry out, the thought of the horrifying consequences made him immediately clamp his mouth shut, not daring to make a peep.

“We didn't come to you just to beat you up. We need your help with something. Listen: Martha is in grave danger right now. She needs you. Only you can save her.”

The little boy visibly froze, lowering his hands from his mouth, and cautiously stared at Lynch.

“You haven't seen her since yesterday afternoon, right? That's because she's in danger and can't escape at all.” Lynch pointed to himself and Officer Natalie. “Why do you think we knew you were here? Martha told us to come find you to save her.”

The little boy blinked, remaining silent.

“Your name is Robert, right?” The female officer gave Lynch a secret glare, then released the child's hand and patted his head with a solemn expression. “If so, then we found the right person. Martha told us to find Robert to save her.”

Tsk, you were clearly having fun playing along too, so why glare at me?

Lynch curled his lip in secret and added, “We're friends of her mother's. I live on the second floor of their house, which is why she trusts me and told us to find you for help. Right now, only you can save that girl. Are you going to let her down?”

“W-w-what should I do?” the little boy asked in a small voice.

“You saw the police outside, right? They're all here to silence Donnie. Once they find him, Martha will be completely doomed. We're looking for Donnie too, because he has the only way to save Martha.” Lynch patted the boy's shoulder solemnly. “Son, Martha's safety rests entirely on your shoulders.”

“B-but I really don't know Donnie Narton, sir.”

“I know, and Martha doesn't know him either. But you all know the reporter lady, right? On the thirteenth, you helped her deliver something to someone. That person was probably Donnie. Where did you deliver it to?”

In truth, Lynch wasn't sure if this kid had actually gone with Martha to deliver the photo, but if he lived nearby, it was very likely he had tagged along. Trying wouldn't hurt.

“Oh, him! I remember!” The little boy puffed out his chest and said proudly, “I have a great memory! He's at 32D Fox Lane.”

Found him.

Lynch let out a long breath of relief, exchanged a delighted look with Officer Natalie, and then bumped fists with her, smiles curling on both of their lips.

They could finally beat those bastards to it.