In other words, the investigative methods of this era are quite crude and lack professionalism.
It is said that the city patrol's case-solving rate is less than three percent. Theft cases often rely on private detectives, while robbery, kidnapping, and murder cases almost entirely depend on private rewards.
It's better than a lawless society, but not by much, making it a rather unsatisfactory and crude legal system.
The city patrol quickly left the apartment, ushering Charlotte into a carriage, which sped towards their office.
Sitting in the carriage, Charlotte mused to himself, "I've lost a few valuable trinkets worth one or two écus, but it's more likely they were stolen by opportunists than by the murderer."
"As for the murder itself, under no circumstances should Miss Meniherman find out about it."
Charlotte rubbed his temples, deeply troubled.
A man and a woman had shown up, a fight had broken out, and there was a murder. Even someone without the keen logic of a private detective could easily deduce that this case likely involved some sort of relationship drama.
Charlotte, himself!
He was probably the less-than-honorable third party in a love triangle.
Having once been engaged to someone like Zimoman Axel Robin, Meniherman must detest playboys, and she would never tolerate having someone like her ex-fiancé working under her. If this scandal were to go public, Charlotte might lose not only his job but also his future career prospects.
This isn't Earth, and imperial government employees aren't like modern civil servants who can't be easily fired.
With just one word, Meniherman could have Charlotte lose his well-paying job and make it impossible for him to work in the government ever again.
"This incident is a wake-up call; I need to sell the multi-headed flail quickly, buy a new place, and move out of the Alexander District to cut ties with my old social circle."
Charlotte rubbed his temples, organizing his thoughts about "his" social connections.
Charlotte Mecklenburg had shallow friendships, with no one he could call a close friend—just casual acquaintances.
His parents were wealthy merchants who had supported his education at Sheffield University. His father's health was declining, and he was gradually handing the business over to his eldest son, Charlotte's brother.
This brother was very wary of him and had repeatedly suggested to their father, "Give Charlotte some wealth and have him relinquish his inheritance rights."
As long as he could endure a few more years, once his parents passed away, Charlotte could formally sever ties with his brother's family.
The only person he was still close to was his sister, with whom he had a strong bond. However, she had married and moved far away, and they rarely had the chance to see each other.
Apart from this brother and sister, Charlotte had no other close relatives. He did have a fiancée, and the wedding date was already set, which was a bit troublesome for him.
"I've heard my fiancée is very dissatisfied with the marriage and has attempted to break off the engagement several times. Maybe I can give it a little push."
The carriage soon arrived at the city patrol's office, a three-story building on the main street with a distinct Sherlock style. It was an old building from the previous dynasty, steeped in history.
The routine questioning was over quickly.
This allowed Charlotte to confirm the identities of the man and woman who had broken into his apartment.
They were a married couple named Yamils. While Charlotte didn't know the husband, he did have a rather inappropriate relationship with Mrs. Yamils.
As for how Mr. Yamils discovered his wife's affair with Charlotte and then showed up, got into a fight, and ended up killing her—that was another sad story.
It was fortunate that Charlotte had been lingering at the weapons market; otherwise, the situation would have been much harder to resolve.
The city patrol recorded Charlotte's account to be added to the case file and issued a wanted notice for Mr. Yamils, effectively closing the case.
City patrol wanted notices generally didn't come with rewards, and few civic-minded citizens would assist in capturing fugitives for the patrol.
Whether in the Faris Empire or other countries, including several now-extinct kingdoms, there have been cases where wanted notices were issued for decades, only for the fugitive to be discovered living comfortably in their home, working, and carrying on with life as usual.
Such was the absurd state of the legal system in this era.
Leaving the city patrol office, Charlotte felt utterly exhausted. Although he wasn't a suspect in the case, his mood was still heavy. He hadn't expected his new life to be so tumultuous—just after a promotion and a raise, he was immediately caught up in a murder case.
Returning to the Savings Union Apartments, he tipped the maid Mary two centimes for watching over his belongings, a generous tip in this era.
With the help of the manager, he quickly moved into a suite on the fourth floor.
After settling into his new room, Charlotte lay on the sofa and sighed with relief, realizing he was hungry.
Glancing at the time, he knew that venturing out now would mean not finding any open shops, so he had to make another pot of the same unappetizing food he'd had a few days ago.
The taste was, as always, difficult to describe.
After eating, Charlotte lay down on his bed, instinctively reaching for the diary, only to set it aside again. Although he knew that the original owner's diary would help him understand his new identity, anything associated with evil gods made him very uneasy.
Charlotte began to think seriously, deciding to plan his life properly in this world.
"Tomorrow, I'll ask Miss Meniherman for another day off."
"I need to sell the multi-headed flail, find a new place to live, and buy some clothes."
Charlotte had given all the bloodstained clothes—both his and those belonging to the women— to the maid Mary during the move, leaving him short on everyday attire and in need of formalwear.
Thinking about moving, Charlotte couldn't help but recall his memories of the top seven districts.
The property prices in the Valdevois District were too expensive, and the Alexander District was no longer an option, so he had to prioritize avoiding those.
The other three districts were not options either—they were too far, making the commute to work in the Maun District inconvenient.
After a simple process of elimination, Charlotte was left with only two choices: the Alcazar District and the Picardy District, both situated between the Valdevois and Maun districts.
Weighing his options, he quickly dismissed the former. The Alcazar District was too close to Valdevois, making property prices relatively high, and it was a bit far from work at Kilmainham Prison. The Picardy District, on the other hand, had cheaper property and was a bit closer to work.
Charlotte decided that after selling the multi-headed flail tomorrow, he would visit the property office in the Picardy District to see if there were any suitable homes for sale.