The dungeon door was closed.
The setting sun cast a unique metallic sheen upon it.
Cold, yet sturdy.
Arthur walked straight toward the hall of Oakwood Manor, followed by Malz who chased after him until, ten meters down the corridor, the Sheriff of Shire District felt certain of their safety and seemingly unable to restrain himself any longer, grabbed Arthur.
"You should have handed him over to me!"
"Although Alberts is a detective, he is young, inexperienced!"
Malz said loudly, his face filled with an unmistakable sense of grievance.
"I trust him!"
"I can see the potential in him—
He needs to be seasoned!
Only through enough seasoning will he truly become a 'detective'!"
After saying this, Arthur headed again toward the hall.
This time, Malz did not pursue.
The Sheriff of Shire District watched Arthur's departing figure, his face etched with desolation.
Those around them witnessed this scene.
The servants summoned to the manor, upon seeing this, were all quite curious.
