Around 9 o'clock in the morning, Jorgen stood in the center of the ruins of the isolation house, gazing at the strange scene around him. The isolation house was completely destroyed, charred black. Yet, not far away, the forest, barracks, and tents still stood unaffected, just like any other morning with sunlight and miasma. It was hard to tell that they had been so close to a raging fire last night. It was as if an invisible giant had wanted to destroy the world, but after taking a single step, changed its mind, and disappeared with the rising smoke. The smell was putrid, bitter, and pungent.
Too much had happened last night, but the top priority was to clean up the scene. Countless internal explosions had rendered the building utterly devastated. All the relatively intact bodies — if one could consider a barely recognizable facial outline as intact — had been dug out from the debris and sent to the morgue for identification by Ellyn, the only person who knew them all.
While excavating bodies from the ashes, the soldiers were extremely cautious, even somewhat nervous. A forearm with a half-burnt blackened hand sticking out of the ground seemed, in their eyes, like some entity independent of the body, which might suddenly reach out and grab the living, dragging them into the still-cooling soil. If a body showed unburned white skin and red blood vessels, the soldiers were even more wary. Had he become a plaguebearer in his lifetime? Even if not, had the plague once run through his body tissues? Would these invisible forces that turned people into flesh-eating creatures infiltrate into my body through this exposed skin? Their education on the transmission of the plague told them this was impossible, but it didn't stop them from acting contradictory, attempting to dig out the bodies while trying to stay as far away from them as possible. Jorgen had to loudly remind a soldier to pick up a piece of calf that had slipped off the edge of the shroud.
Renner walked towards Jorgen, with adhesive tape securing gauze to his cheeks and nostrils. Jorgen was somewhat surprised by his impulsive action last night. This man, always immaculate, had not sustained any injuries to his face even after years in the West Pestilence.
"How's Flint?" Jorgen asked.
"Locked in a solitary cell, behaving relatively well. He seems to be asleep."
"As his colleague, I should apologize to you," Renner said.
"It's alright. You don't think I've worked with him for these years without any conflicts," Jorgen replied.
"But he killed a soldier."
Renner fell silent for a moment. "Would you report Flint's actions to the higher-ups at MI7?"
"I believe he should face some consequences, but... you want me to report this to the Elder? I need to think about it."
"If I tell you that I don't intend to pursue his wrongdoing, will that help you make a decision?"
"In that case, I'll consider it as if it never happened."
"Good, then let's consider it never happened."
Jorgen recalled the moment when Renner showed him the armor of the missing soldiers, saying, "I was born a soldier." At that moment, he seemed to see the restless and struggling souls of the nameless soldiers deep in Renner's pupils, urging him to reclaim what they had lost.
"I didn't expect you to make this decision," Renner said.
"If it weren't for Flint, our war wouldn't have progressed to this stage, that much is clear to me. And the person he killed..." He paused for a moment. "Regardless, there was no saving them."
The person engulfed in flames had reached out a hand towards Flint. Were they seeking help? Jorgen crouched down and used his knife to dig out a piece of metal from the ground.
"And Flint has already been punished," Renner continued.
"You mean Amy?"
"Yes. A man like Flint proposing to Amy was almost humorous, to say the least. But from now on, no one will think of it that way anymore."
"We haven't found any bodies that can be identified as Amy's."
Amy's room was heavily affected by the explosions due to the presence of various chemicals. In fact, even the bodies in the adjacent isolation rooms were in a jumble, making it difficult to determine where they had been when they were alive.
"I know that she may still be alive, but what Flint experienced in that moment was real. That can be considered an appropriate punishment as well."
"If she left one minute before the fire started and went into the woods, we wouldn't know. If she left before the fire spread to her room, we wouldn't know either," Renner explained.
"Do you think it's possible that she set the fire?" Jorgen asked.
"I can only say that currently, there are no suspects."
An hour ago, Jorgen had already questioned the first witness to the fire. By the time the witness noticed, flames were already licking out from between the wooden beams of the building. Because the entire room was sealed and had no windows on the front, it was entirely possible that if the fire started from the inside, no one would have noticed for a considerable amount of time. Even if smoke had been coming out from the only window at the back, it would have been difficult to notice in the darkness of the night. The witness reported to Renner that they "didn't see anyone" at the time.
Jorgen understood that the line between "no suspects" and "many suspects" was often thin.
"I'm not an expert," Renner said, "but... Jorgen, if the fire really started from the inside, then the most likely person would be Amy, right?"
"How do you know?"
"Because... she's someone who has been living here, and we haven't found her body. Although there are three unidentifiable female bodies in total."
"I don't know enough about this person. Why do you think she would do something like this?"
Jorgen nodded. "I know her, and that's precisely why I find my speculation absurd. She might be the most dedicated field nurse I've ever seen. Although it may not be appropriate to say this now... Many soldiers secretly admired her, but of course, the vast majority didn't have the courage to approach this building, partly because they didn't want to compete with Flint."
"No, your speculation isn't absurd, just irresponsible, and it's unrelated to motive. No one knows if there were other people in Amy's room before the fire occurred. No one knows if there were others near the building or coming out of it during the time of the first witness's report to you. Your eagerness to accuse Amy sounds like you want to quickly shift the focus of the investigation onto her, which might make me suspicious of you in turn. But I won't be. Because I know that with your intelligence, if you were trying to mislead my investigation, you wouldn't resort to such a clumsy and obvious approach. So, when providing information to detectives, learn to be responsible for what you say, Renner."
"Alright," Renner smiled, "I said I'm not an expert."
"If Amy wanted to escape, she could only go through the front door since her window is barred. But look at this," Jorgen exerted more force, digging out the metal piece and holding it up.
"What is it?"
"It's a regular household lock, and it can only belong to Amy's room door. That's a wooden door, burnt down to this point. Someone tampered with it."
Renner took the metal piece. A thin steel rod was inserted into the keyhole, with the part outside bent at a right angle from the part inside.
"This way, she couldn't open the door from inside," Renner remarked.
"You can try turning the rod."
"Only a man's strength can achieve this. You mean... Oh, sorry. I should stop talking. I need to learn to be more responsible with my words in front of Seven Agency detectives."
Jorgen glanced around the area near the door lock and said, "I'll go check on how things are going with Elin. If you think the timing is right, release Flint, preferably today. People like him tend to become more productive when they are feeling down."
"What should I have him do?"
"Bring him here and see if he can identify the initial point of ignition. After all, Flint himself is an expert at setting fires, isn't he?"
In the morgue, Elin stood alone facing seven relatively intact bodies, accompanied by their putrid odor. He had once recorded the names of all the plague victims, surprising even Amy with the level of familiarity. But now, he couldn't recognize a single person.
"I wish more people remembered they were once living humans," he recalled Amy handing him the patient records while saying those words. The records were now burnt, and Elin's mind felt empty. Perhaps everything had been burnt along with them.
How much of what he did, from recording their information to bringing them food, was for the patients, and how much was for Amy? He couldn't say for sure. Maybe one wasn't equally important without the other, but with Amy now... at least missing, he immediately forgot the names of these unfortunate individuals, sending a shiver down his spine.
By the way, he still remembered one person: Jonathan. Jonathan, who died by Flint's blade. Strictly speaking, Flint had relieved Jonathan's suffering. Otherwise, Jonathan would have continued to endure unimaginable pain for a while longer before succumbing to the fire. The day before the fire, Elin had visited him, bringing a letter from his wife. Perhaps that's why Elin remembered him – besides him and Amy, there was someone else who could attest to Jonathan's human identity. The letter was sent from the Western Wilds, a place so distant. If Jonathan's ashes were scattered into a river that flowed into the Endless Sea, would he someday wash up on the shores of the Western Wilds?
No, that was too absurd. He would become nourishment for small fish halfway through the journey.
"Any progress?" Jorgen's voice interrupted Elin's thoughts.
"Yes," Elin replied, "significant progress. Not a single one is Amy. Can I ask for a raise now?"
"You claimed to remember all of them, that's why I assigned you this task."
"I've forgotten."
Jorgen pulled a chair from the corner and sat down.
"How well do you know her?" he asked.
"I can't claim to know her very well. I know you always appreciate my ability to interact with women, but I've spent less than five hours with her, Jorgen. Don't put too much confidence in me."
"Five hours seem to have distracted you from your work."
"You're right, it's unprofessional to let five hours of acquaintance affect me like this. It's my fault. But at least I won't spend three years chasing after a woman who disappeared after just a little over ten days of knowing her."
Jorgen remained silent for a moment before replying, "It's okay. Since you find standing here among the corpses a waste of time, go to the ruins. And there's someone in Coersta's area who refuses to talk to me. I believe you can handle her. Though I don't think she witnessed the arsonist, we need her to explain her connection to Jemar. By the way, someone tampered with Amy's door lock, making it impossible for her to open it from the inside. I'll fill you in on the details after you investigate the ruins."
After saying this, Jorgen left the morgue quickly.
Elin regretted his words from earlier. But he knew that Jorgen's focus on work made his casual remarks inconsequential. If they affected him at all, it would only become evident once he finished his work.
Elin closed his eyes and wiped his forehead. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the nearest corpse sitting up. He knew it wasn't an illusion because the corpse's eyes opened, displaying a chaotic gray-yellow color, and pus oozed from its mouth. It turned its head towards Elin, and its neck joints emitted a harsh grinding sound.
This reanimated person, or rather, plague bearer, limped and stumbled towards Elin. Shortly before the flames engulfed the body, the plague had completely overtaken the person, transforming them from the dead to a plague bearer in the fire. Now, its eyes were filled with hatred towards the living and a craving for flesh and blood. When it was about two meters away from Elin, its ankle snapped, and it collapsed, writhing on the ground like a dying insect, its throat emitting bubbling sounds.
Elin watched it until it ceased all movement. Another plague bearer born again and then dead again. Elin never pulled out his dagger because he knew it wanted to bite him, but it was impossible for it to succeed – its human name was Goslin, a soldier whose teeth were nearly half gone and could hardly chew meat. After turning into a plague bearer, Elin finally remembered his name.
"I promised to find a dentist for him," Elin chuckled, the sound stifled in his throat.