Prologue
"In this world, everything is a timeline that stretches wide and long in every corner of existence. I am the only entity capable of understanding it. I want to say that all of this is part of my plan... in the end, everyone will understand. However, this is not my true master plan; that plan is hidden behind the shadows, waiting to be torn apart by the light." - Harith
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Daro sat in a chair while watching the soldiers train; Daro's view of the training ignited a spark of enthusiasm in his eyes, like a fire burning a building waiting to be demolished by that very fire.
"Their weapons and gear are truly terrifying; I think the weight of those weapons must be very heavy." Daro appeared pensive, trying to analyze the movements of the soldiers.
"The training given by Master Joshi seems to fade from my memory, but I can feel the strength in my legs and palms that he trained." Daro continued, thinking about Master Joshi.
"Is he okay?" Daro mused for a moment before being tapped on the shoulder by a tall, sturdy man who was a general.
"Eh!" Daro was startled for a moment.
"Hi kid, how's your day going?" The general smiled warmly.
"Haha… ummm, it's fine.. What's your name?" Daro smiled nervously, clearly, his lips curved only to carve a nervous smile etched into every muscle of his face.
"I am Mahone, I am the General of these soldiers, and our unit is assigned to guard the front lines." Mahone carved a cheerful smile on his face.
"Our training is quite intensive; we don't have any breaks at all." The general appeared to cross his arms behind him, showing his strict military style and reflecting discipline.
"Do you want to be a part of our soldiers? I will train you; I know you want to be the strongest. Just by looking at you, it is enough for me to understand all your emotions and goals." General Mahone continued in a charismatic and authoritative tone.
Daro, who had been listening to those words, expressed his interest.
"Wow… we are really amazing, yes… I guess all the soldiers in this Holy Roman Empire indeed have high intelligence and strength. I am ready to be your student; I want to be the strongest." Daro said while standing to show his seriousness.
"What great enthusiasm, young man. Even though you are 10 years old, you already behave like an adult; I must appreciate that." General Mahone, who had been walking with his arms crossed behind him, turned his head back while still facing forward, looking at his soldiers.
"The hardness of this training is your choice, to die or to become the strongest," Mahone's face showed firmness and discipline.
"It is the only thing that can make someone strong, by breaking through their own limits." General Mahone turned his head back to the soldiers who were training.
Daro felt a bit nervous under that gaze, but he responded with enthusiasm, standing with his fists clenched.
"I will become the strongest; that is a certainty. I have nothing to waste from this young body of mine; I must surpass the limits of this body!" Daro showed seriousness while smiling.
General Mahone chuckled at Daro's enthusiasm, turned toward him, and patted Daro's shoulder. "Enthusiasm is part of strength; strength comes from the mind that desires that strength."
Daro nodded, agreeing with General Mahone's opinion. "You're right, General; to be the strongest, one must have a goal and a mind that agrees with that enthusiasm."
Harith walked along the streets, chaos happening around him; some were bargaining, while others were performing magic to gain appreciation and money. The atmosphere of the street truly depicted joy and harmony, in stark contrast to Harith's empty thoughts filled with abstract verses that transcended the words of the world he was now stepping on.
"This city street truly illustrates freedom; its king is also chosen by the people. Democracy is one of the systems that grants the people the freedom to influence the government or even to overthrow the king himself." Harith chuckled, feeling that every emotion and action of the people was genuinely free.
"But they must follow the cosmic laws that govern this social environment, which also serve as guidelines to prevent conflict and discrimination; this is a good guideline. To avoid the collision of freedoms between individuals."
Harith loved the concept of the "social scene"; he enjoyed piecing together fragments of puzzles based on his observations and then drawing conclusions in his mind.
"They are free to think, speak, and even express opinions and criticisms toward the king. Because this is indeed a human right, everyone is entitled to express themselves without control from cosmic beings."
Harith continued walking, looking around; now his plan would be executed tomorrow. He had also instructed Himzed to call the police at 5:30 PM to come to Markburg Street, which lay within the thick forest. There was a large mansion there, the residence of the mysterious noble.
Harith had already spied on the noble's two subordinates; he knew their ways of working, their actions, and how they would react. Harith's goal was to trap all these criminals in his snare.
"I want to have breakfast first, and I've locked up Himzed's house," Harith looked around once more.
"Why is this world beautiful, only for them (humans) to ruin it? Nature has even shown signs of the damage they've caused, and God has punished some of them to teach them from that punishment; yet, they lack the common sense that God has bestowed upon them." Harith smiled, clearly depicting the atmosphere of nature and society based on his observations.
Harith continued walking until he reached a small street, which had six houses beside it. Inside, it appeared crowded with people gathering in a wooden house.
"I wonder what's going on there," Harith said, walking with his hands in his pockets.
He slipped into the crowd, given his short and small frame. He could clearly see a woman's corpse lying on the ground, with a stab wound in her abdomen and bruises on her face.
The victim's parents were sitting beside her, crying, while the victim's brother was trying to console their mother.
Harith listened attentively to the statements of the victim's parents when questioned by the sheriffs.
"Ma'am, we need to know the chronology—how did this happen?" one of the sheriffs asked.
Harith observed the movements of everyone around him in detail, including the victim's family.
"I found her lying dead on the ground at 9:11 a.m., and at that time, the street was quiet, and the door was open," the victim's mother said, stammering.
Meanwhile, the victim's brother glanced toward the hourglass, as if showing concern.
"Alright, ma'am. So, the street was quiet, and the door was open... meaning one of the killers must have run into the house and stabbed her."
The sheriff wrote down his hypothesis on a piece of paper for further analysis.
Harith noticed the victim's brother checking his watch repeatedly, and the muscles in his face showed signs of concern.
Hmm, he keeps checking his watch, and he does it carefully, slightly tilting his head and looking with his eyes... This clearly indicates discomfort and a desire for the investigation to end quickly.
Harith processed the mother's words in his mind.
The mother said that the door to their house was open, and the sheriff hypothesized that the killer dashed into the house and stabbed her daughter. This doesn't make sense, considering that people would likely pass by this street, and it must be connected to this family somehow. And then, what could the killer's motive be? It seems unreasonable that the killer would immediately resort to murder, especially since the path here clearly leads to this house, and the windows are often left open. This means the family must have killed the victim—it must have been out of revenge. I need to hear their statements again.
The mother continued her explanation. "My daughter Alsa often went out at night. We told her not to, every day, and sometimes we scolded her, but she kept doing what we told her not to. Maybe she did something disgraceful that made someone hold a grudge against her."
The sheriff nodded while writing down her statement.
Harith smiled. He could sense the deepest lies hidden in the mother's words.
Why hasn't the father given any statement? Why does the brother keep looking at his watch? It's obvious that the family's resentment toward Alsa led to them accidentally killing her.
Harith quickly left the scene, took out paper and a letter, and began writing.
"This family has a grudge against me, and they are the ones who killed me. Take this letter, I am Alsa."
Harith looked around quietly, even though there was a crowd, Harith knew which part of the house Alsa's room was in. He approached Alsa's window, it was a bit short.
Harith tugged slightly on the man's shirt and smiled innocently.
"Can you lift me up a bit? I want to check something." Harith didn't show any suspicious signs.
The sturdy man replied in a polite tone. "Alright kid, you're quite the curious one, huh?" The man immediately lifted Harith up.
"I am curious. I want to look around, maybe I can find a clue." Harith smiled innocently.
"Haha, well if that's what you want, sit on my shoulders."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome, kid."
The man chuckled.
When Harith felt that no one was focusing their attention on Alsa's window area anymore, he immediately threw the paper under the cupboard with precision, placing it in a spot that was still visible enough to seem logical as authentic evidence from Alsa.
Harith said to the man, "Umm, I saw a paper under Alsa's cupboard... should we ask the police to check it? Maybe it's something Alsa left behind?"
The man looked at Harith curiously. "A paper? Hmm, one moment."
The man approached the sheriff. "Sheriff, this kid found a letter under the cupboard in Alsa's room."
The sheriff raised an eyebrow, "Is that true?"
"Yes, according to what this kid said, he mentioned a letter or paper under Alsa's wardrobe," the man answered firmly.
The victim's family looked panicked and nervous.
Harith smirked slyly, sensing his straight line leading into a transparent trap.
The sheriff nodded immediately and glanced at the victim's family. "We haven't checked under the wardrobe yet; we only inspected the inside of it."
The sheriff walked toward Alsa's room with steady steps.
All the townspeople present waited patiently.
The sheriff entered the room—it could trigger a catalyst, or perhaps it wouldn't.
The wooden floorboards creaked as the sheriff stepped into Alsa's room. One of the officers crouched down, spotting a piece of paper under the wardrobe. The space beneath it was tight, so the sheriff had to pull it out with his fingers.
"Hmm, it looks like a letter," the sheriff said, immediately opening it to read the contents.
"This family holds a grudge against me, and they are the ones who killed me. Take this letter—I am Alsa."
"....."
This family is the murderer...
The sheriff promptly returned to the living room and presented the letter's contents to the family.
"We are arresting all of you for premeditated murder."
The mother immediately burst out angrily, saying, "We didn't do it! That letter must be…" But the words failed her.
Alsa's brother tried to escape by entering his room, but his movements were quickly stopped by the sheriff.
"Ahh, damn it!" He struggled, trying to break free.
Meanwhile, their father remained silent, letting the sheriffs tie his hands. Their mother's hands were also bound, along with the brother's.
The sheriff looked at Harith. "Thank you for your help." The sheriff smiled and handed Harith a reward of Golden Chlorin.
"You're welcome," Harith smiled innocently. He turned to the man carrying him. "Here's 5 Golden Chlorin for carrying me."
Harith climbed down from the man's shoulders and said, "Bye…" He walked away, his day feeling like sheer absurdity, filled with riddles and mind games.