The Chancellor's house wasn't far, but it was still a considerable distance. The sun hung high in the sky indicating it was noon. Ellie was sweating profusely. That pig. May he get more and more fat. I cursed him in my head.

The Chancellor's office was grand. Although it wasn't as big as the Office of Justice. It was more elegant and efficient. There were high walls surrounding the place. There was one weird thing the architecture was very different from other offcial buildings. It was definetely inspired by the greeks. Two burly guards stopped us at the gate.

"Who are you?", one asked coldly.

Ellie replied, "I am a coroner at the Office of Justice. I am here to deliver this scrolls."

"A coroner delivering scrolls, you are definetely not liked by the Head,' the other commented taking the tray of scrolls from Ellie.

Ellie bit her lip and we went back. As we reached the gate of Office of Justice, we saw a dead body carried in.

"Huh, a case. Be a good one." I said with a big smile.

Ellie chuckled and we entered. The body laid on the ground covered with a white cloth. The grumpy man walked in with his belly shaking. He looked at Ellie almost as if she owed him a debt.

"Perform the autopsy," he barked.

The body was outside. The autopsy must be conducted in the morgue.

Ellie knew this and said, "Sir, can we move the body into the morgue?"

Suprisingly enough, he complied and ordered the porters to move the body. Ellie and I entered the morgue. The body was placed on the slate. Ellie covered her nose with cloth and wore the gloves.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

"Don't get anxious." I reassured her. Her hands trembled as she removed the cloth. "We have done this before."

She took a long breath and checked the body thoroughly for injuries. After completing the autopsy, we stepped out to report.

"The man was likely in his 50s. He was delivered a blow by a heavy metal rod at his occiput causing him to fall down. He has facial fractures and calluses on his middle finger and thumb. He was most probably a scribe. The time of death should be betwenn 8:00-9:00 pm."

"Note it down and bring it to me before leaving," the senior ordered before walking out of the courtyard.

Ellie complied as usual and we went to the record room.

"What do you think about the case?" I asked her.

"Well, he is definitely a middle class man from his clothing. As for the culprit, I think he is right handed. From the strong hit, I think it's a man."

I nodded and she went back to writing. I opened the door wanting to take a stroll. But if life could go easy on me, I was jump scared by a ghost waving at me. I shrieked and so did he. Ellie was scared and jumped in her seat.

"Another ghost," she said grinning. I let out a scowl.

She ran forward and welcomed him, "Come in, come in." She gestured.

I squinted my eyes. Why don't I ever get such treatment? Then, I noticed, the ghost was of the dead man.

"Eh, you are the dead man, aren't you?" I asked stopping him in his track.

"Yes, I am Robert. Robert Clarke. I have come to ask of your help." He replied, curling his lips inward.

"First, you answer our questions. Who killed you and why did they?" I asked, my eyes pentrating through his thick skin.

"I don't know who killed me and why did they. I was reading a book in my room when I was hit from the back. I fell front so I couldn't see the culprit."

"Then we are sorry, we can't help you."

"Shh." Ellie pulled me close and whispered, "Although he doesn't know the culprit, we might get more information from him than others."

She then turned to Robert. "Say, what do you want from us?"

"I want your help to register my daughter in the family genealogy." He said bowing slightly.

"Why wasn't she registered in the first place?"

"I married my wife in secret without my family's knowledge. Later when they found out, they separated us." He weeped. So weak.

"Alright, I will help you. In return, you will help me find who killed you."

"I will. Thank you, thank you." He bowed his head continuosly.

Poor man. I took pity on him. "Stop bowing, or your head will fall out."