When Panzi woke up, he saw Elin standing in front of him, a bit disoriented. Behind Elin, there was another person sitting. Panzi felt nauseated and as if something that should have been vomited was stuck in his esophagus. He wanted to touch his throat but realized he couldn't move his hands. At the same time, a sharp pain throbbed in his wrists. Panzi quickly realized he was bound to a chair.
"Mr. Elin, what's going on? Who is the person behind you?" Panzi began to speak but then noticed Elin had changed his clothes. He squinted for a few seconds and then said, "You're not some cheese merchant; you deceived me."
Elin didn't respond.
"My God, who are you people?" Panzi was extremely unsettled and stared at Elin with a deep sense of unease.
At this moment, Elin was about to speak, but Jorgen interrupted him. "You can guess our identities, maybe that will help you leave this place sooner," he said.
"Are you... kidnappers? Or assassins? Or perhaps..." Panzi hesitated and stopped. Elin waved the bloodied dagger in front of him, and then he continued, "Are you sent by Lord Farad?"
Elin turned to exchange a quick glance with Jorgen. The fact that this man hadn't connected them with the MI7 but instead mentioned Lord Farad further confirmed Jorgen's suspicions. Jorgen had suspected a connection between Ravenholt Manor, the orphanage, and the appearance of Panzi and Elaine ever since he learned of Elaine's involvement in drug manufacturing. He had been cautious when sharing certain information about the orphanage with Elin, hoping that if they encountered relevant details in their conversation with Panzi, he could call Elin in to help handle the situation. He hadn't mentioned anything about Dean, but if he needed to reveal more to understand the nature of the orphanage, he wouldn't hesitate to do so. He was doing this not just for himself but for Dalia.
"Let me handle this," Jorgen said, moving closer to Panzi. He could see fear in Panzi's eyes. As he got closer, the sense of suffocation intensified in every facial muscle of Panzi. He's genuinely terrified of me.
"I was wrong, please tell Lord Farad that I didn't do anything..."
"We are not Farad's people. But now it seems you are. What have you done for him? Answer my questions, don't ask your own." Jorgen said, while wrapping a piece of coarse hemp rope around his gloved right hand.
"If I tell you everything, will you let me go...?"
Jorgen hit Panzi's wound with his rope-wrapped fist. After his fist left the flesh, Panzi made a strange, intermittent noise. Tears squeezed out from his tightly shut eyes, and some spines remained in the sticky blood.
"I said don't ask your own questions," Jorgen added another loop of rope around his fist.
"I, I don't work directly under him, I'm just a lumberjack..."
"A lumberjack working at Ravenholt Manor?"
"Yes, yes."
Both Jorgen and Elin believed this statement. Panzi didn't look like a combat unit from the manor.
"As far as I know, the manor's laborers generally aren't allowed to leave on their own," Jorgen said.
"My superiors happened to be busy preparing for Lord Farad's departure, so I took the opportunity to escape with Elaine."
"Did you think it was a good opportunity to deceive the 'big cheese merchant'?"
"I must have been out of my mind to ask for eight hundred gold coins or anything... Even if I get nothing, as long as I can find some ordinary work here, I'd be content. Really. The manor is always gloomy, and I don't want to stay there forever. Just forget I ever mentioned gold coins... Please let me go."
"Are you satisfied with what he's saying?" Jorgen asked Elin.
"Not at all. I want to know more. Jorgen, I'm sure you feel the same. Panzi, you're aware of your situation. So what we ask, you must answer it completely." After seeing Panzi nod repeatedly, Elin continued, "You're a lumberjack, but it seems that's not your only source of income. What tasks did you make Elaine do?"
"She did some initial processing of raw materials used for drug production, like discarding rotten leaves, and such. It's very simple, not tiring at all, like regular farm work. There's a lot of poison business in the manor, and they can't keep up, so the alchemists often pass simpler tasks to others. Being able to make money this way, Elaine was very happy with it."
"Did her mother do the same thing?"
"She did something a bit more complicated. I don't know much about it, something like brewing potions. You see, it's work that even someone in poor health could do, so that's why I didn't lie to you earlier... I was really sad when Grenna passed away. I don't know the cause, of course, if you're implying that this work harmed her, well, that kind of thing is common..."
"When I met her, she was working as a temporary staff member at the Southshore Hospital. It wasn't comfortable, but I couldn't see any reason for her to return to the manor to brew poison."
"She didn't originally live in the manor. After the orphanage closed, she went to the manor..."
"I don't understand," Elin said. "You're still leaving out some key points."
"Tell us more about this orphanage," Jorgen said. "I know that ten years ago, there was a massacre at an orphanage in the Hillsbrad."
"You know about that too," Panzi said, raising his voice. "Both of you, I understand. If I don't tell the truth here, you'll definitely kill me. I don't want to die. But if Farad... or anyone from the manor finds out that I revealed anything about the orphanage, then I'm as good as dead. So..."
"No one will know what you said here," Jorgen said.
Elin looked at Jorgen and then at Panzi. Panzi obviously didn't understand the veiled meaning of that statement and took it as a promise of survival. Elin suddenly felt a little sorry for Panzi, who had spent most of his life at Ravenholt Manor but hadn't learned to be careful and stay out of trouble. Of course, it might also be because he had too much contact with ambitious third-rate adventurers, simplifying the outside world.
Panzi said, "That orphanage was indeed established by Lord Jorach personally. At first, it wasn't a real orphanage, just a temporary place for adventurers to take care of some children. But slowly, wealthy people and nobles started sending their illegitimate children there, probably believing it was safe under the name of Ravenholt."
"Did Jorach allow all of this?" Jorgen asked.
"The management of the place was separate from the manor from the beginning. Lord Jorach put the person he trusted the most in charge of it, and left everything to him. It was originally just a subsidiary of the manor, but since wealthy people started sending their illegitimate children, the director saw the opportunity to make a lot of money and started doing other things secretly. He even established contact with organizations that specialize in buying and selling children. To be honest, what these organizations do isn't necessarily all bad, because some couples can't have children and don't want to adopt openly..."
"You don't need to explain what these organizations do," Jorgen said. "Continue talking about the orphanage."
"...In any case, when the higher-ups of the manor found out, it was already difficult to handle. The orphanage always used the name of Ravenholt, and they had dealings with many big shots, and even prepared their own armed forces in secret..."
"Wait a minute," Elin said. "You said someone went there to adopt... or buy children. So where did these children come from? They can't all be abandoned, can they?"
"Of course not. When the director received orders, girls would be responsible for giving birth to children. Just being able to complete one pregnancy would earn them a commission equivalent to at least three years' wages."
Elin took a step closer. "Don't tell me Grenna was one of them."
"She was, Elin," Panzi said. "I think that's why she ended up in Southshore when she met you."
"You," Elin began to say but stopped suddenly. He looked at the ground, took a deep breath, and then looked up. "Did you make her do this?"
"No, I..."
"It was you," Elin wanted to approach Panzi, but Jorgen stopped him. "I'm not finished with my questions, we can deal with you later."
"I'm not ready to 'deal' with him. I have a lot of things I want to know from him."
"Then don't act impulsively. Step back, Elin."
"Fine. It's not me who turned him into this. Now you're telling me to calm down."
Despite his words, Elin stepped back.
"Ah, I don't know what to say... Grenna's fate is truly unpredictable," Panzi said. "She just happened to be in Southshore at that time, which saved her from that disaster."
"How did that happen?" Jorgen asked.
"You know, the manor couldn't just ignore this issue forever, but they also couldn't directly attack and kill the children of those big shots. So the people of the manor carefully planned this, looking for an insider to understand everything about the orphanage, especially collecting all the information about the foster children, dormitory numbers, and such. I disguised myself as a regular firewood seller and went to the orphanage to make contact with the insider. At that time, none of us knew that it would escalate to a massacre. I heard that even within the manor, Jorach and Farad argued quite a bit about this. But it happened in the end."
"So they didn't kill everyone."
"No, some of the children who should have been protected were unharmed... Of course, the bigger trouble than that night's attack was silencing the mouths of the nobles involved. Returning the children unharmed wasn't enough; they had to compensate them with a large sum of money. Not to mention angering those organizations that specialize in buying and selling children, they were more vicious than anyone when it came to revenge. Although the manor saved most of its reputation by taking this ruthless action, the days became increasingly difficult."
"This is amazing," Elin said. "Ravenholt Manor, which adventurers admire, specializes in training child killers."
"The thieves of the manor didn't directly harm the children. Those who did the harm weren't 'human'; they were the masked creatures who followed Farad. They would follow any orders. I don't know if you've ever seen..."
"I know what they are," Jorgen said. "You said they're Farad's."
"Yes, Lord Jorach wasn't particularly keen on using them."
"So how many does Farad have?"
"There shouldn't be many, ten years ago there were three, all of them participated in the attack, but now only one follows Lord Farad. Of course, this is just what I've seen; I can't be sure. I guess they must also have a lifespan and can die. After Grenna escaped the attack and came back, she asked me to shelter her. It wasn't easy for me, considering she was once the target of the attack. I risked my life to bring her back to the manor and hid her. Soon after, I found out she was pregnant. You both already know the rest. Can I go now?"
"Come here," Elin pulled Jorgen into a nearby room and closed the door. "It seems we know more than we originally expected."
Jorgen noticed Elin's restless gaze, he ran his fingers over his eyebrows, and then down to tap the hilt of the dagger at his waist.
"How are you?" Jorgen asked.
"I'm fine."
"What he said..."
"Do you remember the term? 'Sows'."
"Elin. Let's not discuss this."
"The nickname for women like Grenna used by child trafficking organizations," Elin said. "I remember joking with you about this when we were handling cases like this, and you'd roll your eyes at me. I thought you were overreacting - it's just a derogatory term for criminals. They even call the people from the MI7 'dirt wolves' or 'lice.' It's quite amusing."
"I've gotten all I wanted to know. Do you have more questions for him?"
Jorgen's attempt to change the subject wasn't successful.
"This isn't a story everyone has, is it? A woman, you can't even remember her name, giving birth to your child somewhere, and then... just dying. At times when I feel a little regret, I know she was pregnant with my child just for money. Shouldn't I be angry? Shouldn't I curse her? Do I look angry now?"
"Not very."
Elin didn't speak further; he stood by the door. Outside, Panzi's voice rose again, "Please let me go," Elin abruptly slammed the door, saying, "Shut up." He seemed to force the word out of his throat with such a violent, almost inarticulate emphasis.
"Oh God, I hate this feeling right now," he said.
"Elin," Jorgen said, "my part here is done. I'm leaving him to you. Whatever you think should be done, do it."
"Do you want me to kill him?"
"No. I said I'm leaving him to you."
Elin remained silent for a while before patting Jorgen's shoulder and saying, "Alright. I'll take care of it. You go about your business."