Source of the Mystery

According to the customs of Rhine City's official hunters, whichever department secured the investigation scene first had priority. With the Hall of Order clearly favoring the Rangers from their own system, if the Rangers found Donnie's place first, it would likely be a repeat of what happened at the newspaper office yesterday, making any further investigation difficult.

But now, the tables had turned.

Lynch and Natalie exchanged a smile, let little Robert go, and then slipped quietly into Fox Lane.

There were plenty of police officers inside, but sealing off the entire street was impossible. Moreover, among them were only three Soul Severers from the Rangers; the rest were ordinary police officers. Stopping a rank three authority Soul Severer was completely out of the question. The female officer easily slipped past the police officers' blind spots into the cordon and strode casually into 32 Fox Lane.

It was an old, three-story Victorian apartment building with a square stairwell in the center leading all the way to the top floor.

This area was part of the perimeter that had already been searched, so they didn't need to worry about the police sweeping through again anytime soon, allowing them to investigate in peace. After taking a loop through the building, the two discovered that Room D was actually on the top floor—who knew how the room numbers had been arranged.

Looking at the thick door of Room D, Lynch stepped closer. He didn't seem to sense any threat or oppressive feeling from inside.

“You probably can't sense it right now. Let's go in and see.”

“Hm? A single door can block the erosion of mysterious filth?”

“It can't block erosion, but it can block perception. And it's not because of the door itself, but the concept of an ‘enclosed space,’” the female officer explained in a low voice. “The exact mechanics are too complicated and require an occult expert to explain. Put simply, this room is conceptually an enclosed area, so the mystery is sealed inside, keeping you from sensing it as it slowly seeps outward. Only by opening the door and breaking the concept of an enclosed area can we detect whether there is mysterious filth inside.”

“Why wasn't it like that at the Randall residence before?”

“Actually, it was, you just didn't realize it.”

“Hm? Ah, I remember now—it was the pressure I felt after crossing the garden fence gate. Even something drafty like that counts as an enclosure?”

“Exactly. The doors and windows of their manor were wide open, so conceptually it was open. That concept extended all the way into the courtyard until it was blocked by the concept of enclosure formed by the perimeter wall and fence gate. As long as they are conceptually walls and doors, that's enough.”

“Understood. Guess we'll just have to go in and see.”

Lynch nodded and watched the female officer turn the doorknob. Naturally, it was locked and wouldn't budge.

That was a bit of a headache, though some people liked to leave keys by the door.

Clinging to a sliver of hope, Lynch lifted the doormat and opened the mailbox next to the door. Unfortunately, apart from stuffed newspapers, he found nothing.

The only hope left was the milk box. Lynch genuinely prayed to the gods several times before cautiously reaching his hand over—only to see the female officer take two bobby pins, fiddle with the lock a couple of times, and hear a crisp click from the mechanism.

At the same time, she gave him a puzzled look, as if asking: What is this guy looking for?

Lynch rolled his eyes, shielded himself behind the female officer, raised his cane in one hand and drew his pistol with the other, then poked his head out from behind her shoulder.

“You are forbidden from shooting while I'm in front of you. Actually, no, you're forbidden from shooting even if I'm behind you.”

The female officer also raised her rapier to guard ahead and carefully pushed the door open.

Lynch's mind conjured countless scenes of sudden ambushes behind doors, making his heart leap into his throat. Thankfully, no monster lunged out at them.

What did surge forward was an overwhelming wave of terror. A pressure so intense it felt almost physical struck straight at their souls, leaving both of them feeling suffocated and tight in the chest.

Both of their faces turned ghastly pale, but the female officer still darted quickly inside.

Lynch hesitated for a split second before immediately following, squeezing into the room just before she pulled the door shut behind them.

Don't run, I still need you as my human shield.

Even while enduring the immense pressure, Officer Natalie elbowed him back. “Stop fooling around. Now that we're in, get to work and search. It might be very dangerous—perceptually, it feels at least on par with a manifestation grade mystery relic. Be careful, and don't leave my side.”

“Right.”

Lynch's gaze had already begun scanning the room. It was a very ordinary bachelor apartment, not even a suite—just a bedroom in the back and a living room out front, without so much as a washroom or kitchen.

His eyes quickly swept over every object. Everything was in its proper place with no apparent abnormalities. The only abnormality was the immense oppression of the filth, which seeped from every single item, constantly crushing their minds.

‘Lady Luna, what's going on here? Why does every single item feel like a mystery relic?’

【The mysterious filth coils around every item, creating a severe illusion for you.】

‘You mean they're all ordinary objects and just tainted by the filth? It can be this overwhelming just from residue?’

【Yes, Lynch. This means that mystery of a slightly higher concentration was once present in this room.】

‘Slightly higher by your standards, or ours?’

【By mine. So please, be careful.】

“So please, be careful.”

“No wonder.” Officer Natalie drew in a cold breath, her heart pounding frantically. “Soaked in filth of this concentration, and having possibly come into direct contact with the source, I'm not surprised Donnie died. The only thing I find strange is how he managed to survive until yesterday. He shouldn't have lasted even a day—eight hours at most.”

Lynch had no time to feel sympathy. He began moving slowly through the room, step by step, attempting to locate the source using his inspiration. Yet the room was not large, and after circling it twice, he had found nothing.

He only felt immense pressure emanating from everywhere, with no distinct origin.

“Could my inspiration be blocked? Did he put it in a sealed box?”

“No. The concept of a box is always a container and an object; it can never become an ‘area’ or a ‘space.’ Even a sealed box cannot block the perception of mysterious filth, unlike a drafty house. It's a conceptual difference.”

“Then that's strange. In theory, with a filth source this powerful, I shouldn't be able to miss it even from hundreds of kilometers away. Why isn't it here?”

Lynch frowned and sat down on the bed, crossing his arms as his perplexed gaze repeatedly searched the room.

The female officer didn't rush him either. Resting her hand on the hilt of her sword, she stood quietly beside Lynch, keeping a vigilant watch for any unusual movement around them.

“Maybe... this situation means the source of the filth has already left the room, leaving behind only a room full of contaminants, just like Martha's ring,” Lynch said, tapping his fingers against his arm as he mulled it over. “Yet Donnie's note explicitly stated that he hid the photographs at home. Did he change his mind later and take them with him? Or did someone else come in afterward? Or was the source never those photographs to begin with? No, just speculating is pointless. We have to find a way to locate the photographs first—assuming they're still here.”

Where are they, where are they, where are they?

Only now did Lynch realize that actual searching was a highly specialized skill, not something one could master just by watching a few movies. The room was small, but when it came to finding something, every spot looked like a potential hiding place, yet searching them yielded nothing.

No good. I'm not a professional criminal investigator; I can't challenge someone's specialized profession with an amateur hobby. I have to play to my strengths.

My strength is high inspiration, and what I'm looking for is the source of the mystery...

‘Lady Luna, is there any way for me to better discern the concentration differences of mysterious filth? My perception right now is too crude; I want to be able to detect more subtle variations in concentration.’

【There is. Remote sensing is inferior to direct sensing—use direct physical contact with your body to feel it.】

Hm? A thought struck Lynch. Taking off his glove, he pressed his index finger against the floor.