According to the protocols of Rhine City's official hunters, the department that secures an investigation site first holds priority. With the Hall of Order clearly favoring the Rangers, if they were to find Donnie's home first, it would likely repeat the experience at the newspaper office, making further investigation difficult.
But now, the tables have turned.
Lynch and Natalie exchanged a smile, let young Robert go, and then quietly slipped into Fox Lane.
There were many police officers inside, but sealing off the entire street was impossible. With only three Soul Severer Rangers and the rest being ordinary police, stopping a rank-three Soul Severer was out of the question. The officer easily slipped through the visual blind spots of the police cordon and walked brazenly into 32 Fox Lane.
It was an old, three-story Victorian apartment building with a square stairwell in the center that led all the way to the top floor.
This area had already been searched, so there was no need to worry about police returning in the short term, allowing for a thorough investigation. They circled the building and found that Unit D was actually on the top floor; there was no telling how the room numbers were assigned.
Staring at the thick door of Unit D, Lynch moved closer, sensing neither threat nor oppression from within.
"You likely can't sense it now. We'll see once we get inside."
"Hmm? Can a single door block the erosion of mystery filth?"
"It can't block the erosion, but it can block the perception. It's not just the door, but the concept of a 'closed space'," the officer explained in a low voice. "The reason is too complex for anyone but a mystery expert to explain. Simply put, this room is a closed area in terms of 'concept', so the mystery is sealed inside, preventing you from sensing it. It only slowly permeates outward. Only by opening the door and breaking the concept of the closed area can we detect whether there is mystery filth inside."
"Why didn't it manifest like this at the Randall house?"
"Actually, it did, you just didn't realize it."
"Oh? I remember now. It was the pressure I felt after crossing the garden gate. Can something that breezy also be closed?"
"Correct. His mansion had doors and windows open, so the concept was open. That concept extended into the yard and was finally stopped by the closed concept formed by the perimeter wall and the gate. As long as they are a wall and a door in concept, it works."
"Understood. Then we'll just have to go in and see."
Lynch nodded and watched as the officer turned the handle. Naturally, the door was locked and would not open.
This was a bit of a headache, though some people liked to leave keys near the door.
Holding onto a sliver of hope, Lynch lifted the welcome mat and opened the mailbox. Unfortunately, aside from a pile of old newspapers, he found nothing.
The only remaining hope was the milk box. Lynch prayed to the gods for real this time, then carefully reached over. Just then, he saw the officer pull two hairpins out and pick the lock; the door clicked open.
At the same time, she looked at him with a puzzled expression, as if asking: What exactly is this guy looking for?
Lynch rolled his eyes, positioned the officer in front of him, raised his cane in one hand and his pistol in the other, and only then peeked out from behind her.
"I forbid you from firing when I'm in front of you. Actually, I forbid it even when I'm behind you."
The officer also raised her sword to guard the front and carefully pushed the door open.
Countless scenes of being killed upon opening a door flashed through Lynch's mind, making him tremble. Fortunately, no monsters lunged out.
What rushed out instead was a massive sense of terror. A pressure so intense it was nearly tangible struck their souls directly, leaving them both feeling suffocated.
Their expressions darkened simultaneously, but the officer quickly flashed into the room.
Lynch hesitated for a second before following, squeezing inside just before the officer closed the door behind them.
Don't run off, I still need you as a shield.
Even while immersed in the immense pressure, Officer Natalie returned a jab: "Stop messing around. Get to work once you're inside. Find something. It's potentially dangerous—the sensory output is at least equal to a manifestation grade mystery relic. Be careful, don't leave my side."
"Understood."
Lynch's gaze began to scan the room. It was a very ordinary studio apartment—not even a suite. There was a bedroom, an outer living area, and not even a washroom or kitchen.
His gaze swept quickly over every object. Everything was in its proper place, and no anomalies were found. The only anomaly was the massive pressure caused by the filth, which leaked from every single object, constantly crushing their spirits.
‘Lady Luna, what is going on? Why does it feel like every single item here is a mystery relic?’
【Mystery filth is coiled around every object, which has caused you to develop a severe delusion.】
‘Meaning they are all ordinary items, and the filth just happened to cling to them? Can it be this exaggerated just from clinging on?’
【Yes, Lynch. This means that a relatively high concentration of mystery has appeared in this room before.】
‘In your definition of high concentration or ours?’
【It is mine, so please be careful.】
"So please be careful."
"No wonder," Officer Natalie let out a cold breath, her heart pounding. "Immersed in this concentration of filth, and potentially having come into direct contact with the source, I'm not surprised Donnie died. My only surprise is why he only died yesterday. He shouldn't have been able to last a day; eight hours at most."
Lynch could no longer spare a thought for their shared misery. He began to move slowly through the room, step by step, trying to use his inspiration to find the source. However, the room was small, and he had circled it twice to no avail.
He felt immense pressure everywhere, but there was no clear source.
"Could my inspiration be blocked? Did he put the item in a sealed box?"
"No, the concept of a box is always a container or item; it cannot become an 'area' or 'space'. Even a sealed box cannot block the sensing of mystery filth—not like a house that leaks from all sides. This is a difference in concept."
"Then it's strange. Theoretically, I shouldn't be able to ignore such a strong source of filth even from hundreds of kilometers away. How could it not be here?"
Lynch frowned and sat on the bed, arms crossed, his puzzled gaze scanning the entire room repeatedly.
The officer did not urge him. She stood beside him, clutching her sword hilt, vigilantly watching for any movement.
"Perhaps... this situation might mean the source of the filth has left the room, leaving behind only a house full of contaminants, just like Martha's ring," Lynch tapped his arm, thinking repeatedly. "But Donnie's note clearly stated he hid the photos at home. Did he change his mind later and take them? Or did someone else come in? Or is the source not the 'photos' at all? No, thinking about it is useless. I must find a way to retrieve the photos, if they are indeed still here."
Where, where, where.
Lynch realized that true search work was a highly professional skill, not something he could master from watching a few films. The room was small, but when he wanted to find something, he realized it could be hidden anywhere, yet he couldn't find it anywhere he looked.
No, I am not a professional investigator. I cannot challenge their professional skills with a hobby. I must play to my strengths.
My strength is high inspiration, and I am looking for the source of mystery...
‘Lady Luna, is there any way to make my perception of the concentration differences in mystery filth more precise? This current perception is too crude. I hope to distinguish even finer changes in concentration.’
【Yes. Remote sensing is inferior to direct sensing. Use your body to make direct contact to perceive it.】
Hmm? Lynch felt a stir in his heart, took off his glove, and pressed his index finger against the floor.
Rate on N.U.
