Bodler left the car and hurried over to Morlade's side.

"Mr. Francisca, how are you? Are you hurt?"

He gently shook Morlade, but the latter showed no response.

Thus, Bodler could only forcefully drag the dispirited Morlade back to the vicinity of the steam car, hiding from potential threats.

After stuffing Morlade into the steam car, Bodler picked up the car's wireless communication device.

"This is Seagull Three, facing an emergency situation! Requesting support! Repeat, requesting support!"

After speaking, Bodler immediately drew his gun, propped it against a car door, and began scanning the streets for any signs of unknown attackers.

A quarter of an hour later, several steam police cars, dragging long trails of steam, raced to Crowley Street, where the red flashing lights instantly overshadowed the pale yellow street lamps.

The disembarking police officers quickly set up barricades to seal off the intersection, urging nearby bystanders to leave, while some investigators began to ask surrounding witnesses about the attack.

A few from the security bureau called over a doctor to clean up the body lying in a pool of blood and transport it to the bureau's forensic department.

The piercing sound of the police sirens disrupted Morlade's thoughts, allowing him momentarily to emerge from his daze.

He looked at his hand, which had been holding a dagger, noticing remnants of blood on the white sleeve, reminding him of the memory of killing that person.

A wave of nausea suddenly rose from the depths of his heart, and Morlade opened the car door, unable to hold back any longer, and started retching.

Bodler was almost startled, thinking Morlade had been poisoned or something, and quickly went over to check on him.

Upon discovering that the other was merely nauseous and retching, Bodler breathed a sigh of relief, gently patted Morlade's back, and handed him a bottle of warm water to ease his discomfort.

By this time, the residents around Crowley Street had gradually recovered from their initial fear under the police's reassurance and returned to their normal lives.

Some journalists who happened to be in the area sensed a hot news story, excitedly holding their cameras and notebooks around the police line, their flashbulbs making the night as bright as day.

"Mr. Bodler..."

"What is it, Mr. Francisca?"

"Can I, can I go home?"

Morlade weakly raised his head, pleadingly looking at Bodler.

"Where is your home?"

Bodler hesitated, knowing that under such circumstances, he should ideally take Morlade to a secure house of the Security Bureau for round-the-clock protection.

"Just there."

Morlade pointed towards 29A, where a tall woman with silver hair was approaching.

"I..."

Another wave of nausea hit him, and Morlade retched again, as the last of his stomach contents and bile began to appear in the vomit on the ground.

"Alright, alright."

Bodler shook his head; after all, this street would be sealed off by the police and the security bureau from now on. With additional personnel deployed, security was somewhat assured.

He helped Morlade out of the car and then led him towards 29A.

Soon, they encountered the silver-haired lady at the police line.

"Lady, you can't go in! This is a crime scene! Please calm down! Please calm down!"

A police officer was desperately preventing the woman, who was taller than himself, Ferlid, from entering the restricted area.

She just silently looked at the officer, who, despite appearing to be just an ordinary person, imposed a tremendous psychological pressure on the young officer.

As the young officer was about to break down, Bodler approached.

"Lady, is this your relative?"

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He brought Morlade over.

Ferlid turned to look, immediately noticing Morlade, who had fainted and seemed to be injured.

She instinctively wanted to snatch him away but eventually restrained herself.

"Yes, Mr. Security Bureau Chief, he is my relative. Now, please hand him over to me."

"Alright, alright."

Bodler felt a familiar, almost superior pressure.

He handed Morlade over to Ferlid, who immediately carried him away from the street and into the house.

"What... what did she just call me?"

Bodler came back to his senses, looking at the young officer who was almost in tears.

"Chief, um... it seemed like, the Chief of the Security Bureau?"

"Strange."

Bodler looked down at his standard uniform of the Esflore Kingdom police force.

"How did she recognize my true identity?"

Ferlid took a white sheet, then laid Morlade flat on the bed before quickly removing his jacket.

His arm wound, which had already scabbed over, had cracked open again, the bandage soaked with black, coagulated blood.

Ferlid took a first aid kit from the cabinet, then carefully unwrapped the bandage, beginning to treat Morlade's wound.

The pain immediately woke him up.

"Hold on, you brought this upon yourself!"

Ferlid's angry words undoubtedly served as the best sedative.

Morlade didn't dare make any movements, not even moaning or trembling.

A few minutes later, Ferlid skillfully applied the medicine and re-bandaged Morlade's arm with a clean bandage.

"I'll go throw out the trash. You organize your words and explain what you were really doing this afternoon."

"I, of course, went to the grand library..."

"To apply for a job? Alright, now the library's HR department doesn't even accept recommendation letters and registration forms?"

Ferlid picked up Morlade's briefcase from the ground.

"If you think you can deceive me, then keep making things up, let's see if you've improved!"

Saying this, Ferlid took the blood-stained bandages and medical waste and left the bedroom.

As she was about to dispose of the trash downstairs, the doorbell rang, followed by a series of urgent knocks.

"Mr. Francisca? Mr. Francisca?"

Clearly, the person outside was somewhat anxious.

Ferlid opened the door but did not remove the chain lock.

This made Bodler, who wanted to rush in to see Morlade, calm down, realizing that breaking into someone's house was against the regulations.

"Ah, sorry, sorry, ma'am. May I ask if there's any problem with Mr. Morlade..."

"So, what else do you want?"

"Hm?"

"Mr. Security Bureau, he's already been shot and needs quiet rest. Please don't disturb, okay?"

Ferlid frowned.

"Any issues, please come back tomorrow morning."

"But..."

Bodler hesitated.

"If your inability to proceed with the case is due to a civilian, then perhaps the Independent Treaty Security Bureau should reflect on itself."

"I..."

"God above, he was almost stabbed to death, please think it over!"

Ferlid closed the door.

Bodler watched the door close, indeed feeling somewhat uncomfortable.

The Independent Treaty Security Bureau was supposed to eradicate dangers in the shadows for the kingdom's citizens, but now they had repeatedly put innocent civilians in danger.

Shaking his head, he walked down the front steps.

"Bodler?"

A member of the Security Bureau's action team asked.

"Let's go, Williams, we need to hurry to the hospital's forensic department to check on that attacker, ah, the attacker's body."

After saying this, Bodler stepped into the steam car first.

Williams and a few members of the Security Bureau looked at each other.

Hadn't they just said they were going to take the injured witness to a safe house?

But they gave up thinking about it and followed Bodler into the car.

The car, emitting a faint steam, soon brought them to the Bedland District's Royal Hospital.

It was already ten o'clock at night, and the on-duty forensic doctor had long since gone home.

So, the person hurriedly called to perform the autopsy was an intern, whose unskilled technique couldn't immediately yield results.

There was no helping it; in this day and age in Calfrente, unless one belonged to a forensic family or was a destitute student, few medical students chose to become forensic doctors.

Descending to the basement, they turned into the Security Bureau's forensic department and saw the young intern female doctor tremblingly following the textbook to begin her work.

"Please relax, miss, just follow the procedure..."

Bodler, intending to comfort her, became the one most in need of comfort upon seeing the deceased's face.

"Walter, Mr. Walter?!"

The members of the Security Bureau who had come with Bodler to the hospital were shocked, several running over in disbelief.

"Walter! It's really Walter!"

The intern didn't understand why these Security Bureau people were so excited, thinking she had made a mistake, and kept apologizing profusely.

However, no one was paying attention to her at the moment.

Bodler stepped forward to examine the attacker's body.

The face had no signs of being sewn up, and the scars and some wear on the hands were exactly as described in the records.

He snapped back to reality and immediately ran out of the Royal Hospital, got into the steam car, picked up the wireless communication device, and dialed the Security Bureau's line.

After being transferred several times by the operator, he finally got through to Hans, who was in a secure house of the Security Bureau.

"Hans, Captain!"

"What is it, Bodler?"

"The deceased is Walter! The one who attacked Mr. Francisca is Walter!"

"What?! Are you sure?! This isn't some disguise?!"

"It's true, Walter! I remember the unique scar on his face!"

"…Bodler, go check again, check again!"

Hans's voice carried a hint of panic.

"What's wrong, Captain?"

"Nothing! Hurry up and verify again!"

After hanging up, Bodler felt something was off.

After Hans hung up, he immediately went to the director, bending down.

"What's wrong, Hans?"

"Director... Bodler found Mr. Walter's... body."

Hans spoke haltingly, in a whisper.

The director's cigarette fell to the ground.

He looked at Walter, who was being interrogated, turned his head, and asked softly.

"Hans, are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Hans nodded; he trusted his subordinate.

Asking Bodler to check again was just self-deception; with Bodler's experience and eye for detail, he would only be wrong if he was drugged.

"…Alright, it seems this matter has become complicated again... haha, why did I say again?"

The director laughed without mirth.

He picked up the cigarette butt from the ground and threw it into an ashtray.

"Hans, I'll leave this to you. I have some things to attend to."

"Yes, Director."

Hans nodded.

The director stood up, gestured, and several members of the Security Bureau followed him out of the safe house.

He got into the steam car.

"Director?"

The driver inquired.

"To the branch of the Wanderers, Saint Delong Church."

"Yes."

The driver started the car and began to drive.