"To think Mr. Grant has become a 'Corpse Collector' and even seems to have learned about the 'acting method'… Where did he even obtain the potion formula and all this knowledge?" Ebner habitually rubbed his chin, a touch of uncertainty flashing across his face. "Could it really be the Numinous Episcopate? Hmm, I recall from the novel that the Numinous Episcopate had an official head in Backlund by the name of Patrick Bryan… Wait, Bryan? The same Bryan whom Jane's father holds in such high regard?"
At this moment, Ebner finally connected the real world with events from the novel, gaining a glimpse into the underlying truth of the situation.
"Xio remarked that Mr. Grant may know his theory but is terribly naïve when it comes to the Beyonder world… She's not wrong. If he's indeed connected to that Bryan fellow whom the Messenger refers to as 'the…foolish…undead…' then it all makes sense! After all, this Bryan is merely a byproduct of the 'Artificial Death' project—a rapidly created pawn who barely knows the current state of the Beyonder world."
With this realization, Ebner decided to end the investigation as soon as possible. After all, no matter how inexperienced that Mr. Bryan might be, he was still a bona fide demigod. As a mere Sequence 9, Ebner couldn't afford to meddle in the affairs of such a powerful figure. Besides, this demigod was destined to eventually become a faithful follower of the Goddess, so following Bryan wouldn't pose too much risk to Mr. Grant.
Xio watched Ebner's expression change from gloom to relief and back, finally asking, "Is there something wrong?"
Shaking his head, Ebner decided to keep his guesses to himself. Xio didn't need more burdens than she already carried.
Seeing his reluctance to share, Xio didn't press him. Instead, she changed the subject, saying, "Fors' new book, Wuthering Heights, has just been published. When I get my author's copy, I'll gift you one."
Ebner blinked in surprise, then smiled. "Be sure to congratulate Ms. Fors on my behalf. And congratulations to you, as well; you're one step closer to accessing the upper echelon of noble society and getting closer to the truth."
"Thank you!" Xio responded with a pleased smile. She was deeply grateful to Ebner for pointing her toward a way forward. For the first time, she felt hope in her search for the truth behind her father's death, rather than blindly charging in without direction.
After chatting with Xio for a bit longer, Ebner bid her farewell and left the East Borough. His next stop was the Cherwood Borough police station.
As soon as he entered, Officer Aetris, with his usual sharp tongue, came over, staring intently at him before remarking, "Do you have some kind of mental ailment?"
"Mental? Why would you say that?" Ebner was puzzled. Even if Fassin found his collapse yesterday odd, it would make more sense to assume there was a physical problem, wouldn't it?
"Because it's hard to believe someone strong enough to wield that staff single-handedly could be so physically frail that he'd just collapse. So, it must be mental!" Aetris insisted.
"Oh, so you're the one who brought me home yesterday…" The mention of the staff helped Ebner catch on. Aetris was hinting that he had not only carried him back but had also retrieved the staff.
"Who else would it have been?" Aetris lifted his chin proudly, adding, "Your staff may be heavy, but it was still lighter than I expected…"
"Thank you!" Ebner replied, then sighed, "But doesn't all that roundabout talking exhaust you?"
"Isn't that the style of you detectives? Never stating anything outright, instead listing seemingly unrelated things before showing off your deductions," Fassin replied with a smirk.
Are we that close? Ebner wondered, baffled by this strange sense of rapport, like bickering with an old friend. Ignoring Fassin's eccentricities, he moved toward the stairs, intending to go up to his mentor's office.
But Aetris called after him, "Detective Isengard has gone out to gather evidence… Also, someone quite… troublesome is upstairs at the moment…"
Before he could finish, Ebner heard a frustrated voice coming from the second floor.
"I've said it several times: that guy was just staying at my place! I had no intention of kidnapping him, nor did I plan to extort his parents for money! This whole thing was that idiot's self-directed drama!"
Aetris shrugged, explaining, "You heard it yourself. That's Emlyn White, the friend of young Mr. Haydle. We tracked down his address last night and brought him in for questioning. He's incredibly arrogant and scathing, always managing to insult others in some way. His parents even hired a lawyer to bail him out, but this is just a final routine inquiry."
That sounds just like you, Ebner thought, almost blurting it out. But before he could, he spotted a well-dressed man descending the stairs with his hair styled in a slightly rakish yet formal manner. Behind him was a middle-aged man with a stern expression and meticulously groomed hair, likely his lawyer.
Ebner hadn't planned on speaking with Emlyn, but the man strode over, directing his words at Aetris. "I told you repeatedly: this incident has nothing to do with me, yet you dragged me here with that idiotic comment, 'People who love dolls are abnormal and bound to be trouble!' Now, are you going to apologize?"
Aetris muttered a curt apology, then added sarcastically, "Dr. White ought to check the birth records at Backlund Hospital."
"What do you mean by that?" Emlyn seemed pleased by the apology, but Fassin's last comment made him turn back, muttering, "The hospital wasn't even built when I was born. Wait, why should I even look up my birth record?"
"A respected man like Dr. White could hardly have raised such a troublesome son. You must have been switched at birth!" Aetris quipped, showing no restraint.
Emlyn, finally understanding the insult, was unbothered; after all, vampires can't be switched at birth. He cast Aetris a look of utter disdain, brushed past him, and strode out of the station.
Fassin, though, was visibly fuming, and he looked like he was ready to pick a fight.
"Are you two kids?" Ebner asked, tugging Aetris back with a sigh.
"You saw how aggravating he is! He's even worse than you detectives!" Fassin grumbled.
Ebner could only marvel at the man's blatant insults. "With a temperament like that, how did you become a police officer?" He'd be much better suited as a Hunter-path Beyonder.
"I never wanted to be a cop. But my father insisted…" Aetris replied, slumping slightly. "I'd much rather have been an adventurer."
"Your father is…?"
"Police Chief Fassin."
...
Finding it pointless to speak further with the moody officer, Ebner headed up to his mentor's office to review the files for the other missing person case.
In a narrow alley surrounded by buildings on Consulate Street in the southwestern part of Cherwood, Detective Isengard and Police Chief Fassin stood with four officers, all staring in horror at the scene before them.
The alley was littered with severed limbs—bloody legs, feet in worn-out shoes, feet in high heels, and ribs and hearts strewn everywhere. Disembodied eyes of varying sizes lay scattered amidst chunks of arms, while pieces of intestines hung along the walls, gleaming red even in the sparse blood. The setting was nothing short of a living nightmare.
The four ordinary officers gagged, vomiting on the spot. Police Chief Fassin clamped a hand over his mouth, struggling for a long moment to keep his composure. Only Detective Isengard, relying on his Beyonder abilities, managed to stay calm, methodically examining the grisly remains until he located some sections that were distinctly more decayed.
"A live corpse?" Detective Isengard murmured, his brows knitting tightly.
...
In the police station, after thoroughly reviewing the case files, Ebner felt confident in his conclusions and called Officer Aetris to accompany him once again.
This missing persons case wasn't particularly complex.
The report came from a middle-class couple. The husband was a department manager at an import-export company and was seldom home. The wife was a homemaker who handled household chores and educated their daughter. However, their daughter had a rebellious streak and acted like a mischievous tomboy, often sneaking out to play. This time, though, she left and never returned.
From the case notes alone, Ebner had gathered that the young girl had a strong will and was both resourceful and determined. All indications pointed to her planning a getaway as far back as a few months ago when her mother first introduced her to a marriage prospect.
Digging into her social circle, Ebner quickly found out from one of her friends that she had secured a fake identity to leave the country for an adventure.
"She even used a fake male identity... She's really something!" Though Ebner didn't fully approve of her sudden departure, he couldn't help but admire her boldness and pursuit of freedom.
"Till Swigg… or should I say, Annie Gwynn? Quite impressive indeed!"
While he admired her resolve, Ebner still had to report the investigation findings to the girl's parents, thus officially closing the case. How her parents chose to deal with her departure was beyond the police's duty.
Aetris, on the other hand, had been somewhat distracted ever since learning that the girl had set out to sea. He only regained his composure once the case was wrapped up.
That evening, when Ebner bid farewell to Aetris and returned to his mentor's home, he happened to arrive just as Detective Isengard pulled up in his carriage.
...
"Our commission has concluded!" Detective Isengard said directly as soon as he saw his student.
"Concluded? You solved those six cases?" Ebner asked with curiosity.
"Not quite… The police have transferred the case to the Mandated Punishers! You know, with that bunch of tyrants involved, our presence would be rather unnecessary," Detective Isengard said, his tone relaxed and seemingly unbothered.
"Transferred to the Mandated Punishers?" Ebner was puzzled. "Most of the families involved worshipped the Goddess. They couldn't have handed it over just because of proximity to the Holy Wind Cathedral, could they?"
"Yes. It was the work of one of those criminals who previously slipped past the Punishers' radar, so naturally, they have to clean up their own mess."
(End of Chapter)