Just as Elias finally returned to the lighthouse cabin without further mishap, tended to his wounds, and began planning how to use the carapace husk rot to fish for the "eyeless eye" from the recipe.
In the distant inland.
Hope County, central district.
It was spring, and the continuous drizzle shrouded this industrial city in a layer of gray moisture.
Knight Street, a notorious den of extravagance.
Inside a suite on the seventh floor of a luxury hotel called the "Golden Rose".
Arthur Rockland was staring at the floor with a helpless expression.
To be precise, he was staring at the humanoid outline drawn on the floor with white chalk.
Within the white circle representing the "location of the deceased" lay a very much alive human being.
This person was wearing a crumpled trench coat, his tie was crooked, his face was covered in stubble, and he was still clutching an empty wine bottle tightly in his hand.
He looked like a floating corpse that had just been fished out of a river.
"Brian, the floor is cold."
Arthur sighed and lightly kicked the man's calf with the tip of his boot.
The man on the floor didn't react, continuing to curl up inside the white line.
This man was named Brian Fisher.
He was the detective inspector of the detective department next door to the police station, and also Arthur's partner.
Earlier today, the central district police station where Arthur worked had received this report.
It was said that an extremely heinous murder had occurred in this suite, even prompting the superintendent himself to lead a team to seal off the scene.
However, after investigating for an entire morning, they had found nothing except a room full of the smell of alcohol and this "living stiff".
Of course, this was partly because Arthur's state of mind had been very poor lately.
He was somewhat distracted.
This state had persisted for a month.
Arthur walked to the window and pulled a letter from his breast pocket; the edges of the envelope had been rubbed fuzzy.
It was sent by his brother, Elias Rockland, who had recently graduated from university.
A month ago, this letter had suddenly been sent home along with a massive sum of 12 Soren.
What did 12 Soren mean?
As a formal police officer in the central district police station, Arthur's monthly salary plus various allowances was only a bit over 4 Soren.
Yet Elias, a greenhorn who had just graduated, had actually sent home three months' worth of his salary in one go.
The content of the letter was simple, even a bit sparse.
Elias said he had found a job with the Wayland Shipping Company, which offered excellent benefits and included room and board. Although the location was a bit remote, it had great prospects.
Between the lines, it was filled with anticipation and excitement for the future, even including a hand-drawn smiley face.
But Arthur couldn't bring himself to smile at all.
What kind of "newbie job" could advance such a large sum of salary?
Unless it was the kind of work where you risked your life, or some kind of "black labor" with a signed contract of indentured servitude.
This gave Arthur a very bad premonition.
To the point where he couldn't even work up the spirit to investigate the case.
"Rockland!"
Suddenly, a majestic and low shout interrupted Arthur's thoughts.
"Come out for a moment!"
Arthur quickly put away the letter and stepped out of the room.
In the hallway stood a middle-aged man wearing a black double-breasted coat.
He had a tall, straight figure without the bloated physique of ordinary officials, appearing capable and strong.
"Ahem!"
The man cleared his throat.
This was the superintendent's signature gesture; due to years of heavy drinking, he often made this strange throat-clearing sound when he spoke.
"Any new developments?"
The superintendent asked while sweeping a scrutinizing gaze over Arthur's slightly tired face.
"The murder weapon?"
"Not found."
Arthur answered honestly.
"New clues?"
"None discovered."
"Witnesses?"
"Limited information."
"The victim's identity?"
"Registered at the hotel as Martin Miller, but it's presumed not to be his real name."
"A portrait has been made based on the remains left at the scene and distributed."
Arthur answered quickly; although there were no results, he was very familiar with the procedure.
"Tsk."
The superintendent subconsciously stroked the end of his handlebar mustache, appearing somewhat irritable.
"Hurry up! For some reason, the Chief found out about this."
The superintendent lowered his voice, a hint of helplessness in his tone.
"Those big shots don't care what difficulties we have."
"They only know they want to see results before tomorrow's newspaper headlines come out."
"Make sure to solve the case within three days, otherwise we'll all be shoveling horse manure."
Speaking of this, the superintendent subconsciously glanced into the room again.
His gaze fell on the figure still lying within the chalk circle.
"What's the situation with that corpse?"
The superintendent pointed at Brian.
"Ahem!"
He cleared his throat again, seemingly very confused by the presence of that "corpse".
He remembered the report saying the body had already been moved?
Arthur replied expressionlessly:
"Dead."
"Hmm?"
The superintendent froze for two seconds, then reacted.
That serious face flashed with an expression that said, "I knew these detectives were unreliable."
"Get him up!"
After saying that, the superintendent waved his hand with a worried face and turned toward the stairs.
Having seen off the superintendent, Arthur took a deep breath and adjusted his emotions.
Regardless of what was happening with Elias, the work at hand still had to be done.
He frowned and returned to the room, walking to the chalk circle and looking down at his partner, who was still playing dead.
"Brian, get up!"
"Aaaaaaah!"
What responded to him was a tragic wail.
Brian covered his face with his hands, his body writhing on the floor like a maggot.
"What? The real body was sent for an autopsy, so you plan to play the corpse here to fill the void at the scene?"
Arthur rubbed his temples, feeling a headache coming on.
"If you don't get up, I'll have someone pack you up and take you away; it'll save on coffin money."
This guy's mental state seemed to have been very poor lately as well.
Brian lowered his hands and said in a trembling voice:
"Let me be dead for a while longer..."
"Aren't you supposedly the number one detective in the central district? 'The Hound' Brian?"
"What's this now? 'The Dead Dog' Brian?"
"Just tell me who the killer is, and you can go back to acting after you're done!"
"Ada!"
Brian suddenly sat up and shouted a name.
"Ada is the killer?"
Arthur was stunned. Had this guy been playing dumb while actually finding a clue?
Brian clutched his chest with a look of agony.
"It's my ex-girlfriend!"
"..."
Arthur felt that the entire detective department of the central district was finished.
This kind of character was actually their ace detective?
It seemed that the public order of the central district had only been maintained until now thanks to the self-discipline of the criminals.
Brian didn't notice his partner's speechlessness; he crawled up tremblingly and drifted to the windowsill like a ghost.
This was the seventh floor; looking down from the window, one could see the bustling Knight Street.
Suddenly, he pointed downstairs and shouted:
"Look!"
His voice was urgent and sharp.
Arthur's heart skipped a beat. Was this guy finally being somewhat reliable?
Had he discovered a suspicious person loitering nearby?
He hurried over and looked in the direction Brian was pointing.
"Look at that person!"
Brian pointed at a figure getting out of a carriage at the hotel entrance.
"Doesn't he look like my ex-girlfriend, Ada!"
"Get out!"
Arthur glanced at the middle-aged man wearing a uniform cap and sporting a small mustache.
"That's the damn hotel owner!"
"It's over, everyone looks like Ada to me now!"
Brian broke down, clutching his hair with both hands, turning his already messy hair into a bird's nest.
Arthur moved away from him in disgust.
He still had the matter of his own brother hanging over his heart, and now here was this lovesick idiot!
"I'll suggest to the superintendent later that Landon Asylum would welcome you!"
Arthur said coldly.
"The environment there is beautiful, and there are people to take care of you. It's perfect for a genius like you who sees his ex-girlfriend in everyone."
"Arthur, you can't do this to me!"
Brian looked grief-stricken.
"We've been partners for so many years!"
"Just two years."
"I've only been a policeman for two years."
Arthur ruthlessly interrupted his sentimentality.
"And during these two years, I've spent more than half the time cleaning up your messes."
"Anyway, you can't do this to me!"
Brian said as if throwing a tantrum, plopping down onto the sofa in the room.
"Buddy, I need you to solve the case now."
Arthur sighed helplessly, deciding to ignore this lunatic.
"I've already checked everywhere that can be checked."
"Including this carpet, including the victim's suitcase."
As Arthur spoke, he circled behind the sofa.
To prevent any oversights, he crouched down and once again observed the blind spots behind the sofa and the gaps in the carpet.
There were indeed no clues.
No bloodstains, no hair, and no strange remnants.
Even the dust had been cleaned very thoroughly.
He had just stood up, preparing to check the next corner.
He saw that Brian, who was lying on the sofa, was no longer playing dead but was staring straight at him.
That look carried a hint of disbelief.
"Ada?!"
Brian's voice trembled.
Arthur felt a chill down his spine.
Was it some kind of supernatural phenomenon?
He whipped around, his hand already on the baton at his waist.
However, there was nothing behind him.
Only the wall covered in dark gold wallpaper and an elegantly shaped wall lamp.
He crouched down again, carefully checking the space between the back of the sofa and the wall.
Still nothing.
Arthur frowned and turned his head in confusion, looking at Brian across from him.
He saw the other man rub his eyes and jump up from the sofa in a panic, running behind the sofa and sniffing around like a dog searching for food, looking for something unknown.
"What? A clue?"
Arthur asked in a deep voice.
"No."
Brian looked up, completely bewildered.
"Then what are you looking for?"
"Ada."
"..."
Arthur felt the veins on his forehead throbbing.
He clenched his fists, his knuckles making a series of crisp cracking sounds.
"You say that name one more time."
"And you'll become the victim."
Rate on N.U.
