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There was, in fact, a rotting corpse there.
The room squeezed into a far tighter space than I thought it would. Tears and slices bore into the woodwork of the kitchen, shards of metal and cookware thrown about the floor along with the stove being cut in half. More slash marks denominated the source of the bathroom’s destruction. Several layers of blood caked the hard, wooden floor, and wrecked beyond repair, all the other furniture laid scattered into pieces at our feet. Pieces of cotton, glass from a TV, knickknacks and toys shredded in a frenzy…a maelstrom of hatred.
I didn’t know what nonsense happened to make people forget to replace the corpse with a projection copy for any investigators, but I knew it would be up to me to ignore the sounds of Kelsey vomiting near the railing outside. Thank gods this was the second floor, so her digestive fluids could fall onto the ground with ample warning for any pedestrians.
Probably.
“Coooooool,” Charya said, eyes wide as she stared the body down. “This is real, right?”
“Yes,” I said and knelt down to make sense of this mess. Rest in peace, citizen.
“Can I touch?”
“Respectfully, and only with the proper gloves.”
“Even cooooooler,” she repeated, and scampered back outside. In moments, she returned with a pair of medical gloves. She waggled her fingers with excitement and immediately joined me in my autopsy. An officer conducted one earlier, likely, but a second look never ruined anything.
Kelsey finally stumbled in and wiped her mouth, a groan escaping before words could. “Are we…gods, okay, never mind, be back in a bit—“
She ran out the door. Whatever her business was with this sudden bout of sickness, it struck me as odd it didn’t begin earlier. Maybe I could prepare one of my homemade remedies once we completed our investigation! The right combinations of chilies and fish guts created an interesting flavor of sauce, one that Bella always asked me to make nearly every week.
Not that she’d want me to tell anyone about that. Or even acknowledge that habit of hers. Heh. Hehe.
The remains still present hardly possessed any information of interest. It appeared incomprehensible and gorey: hardly much else to say. Aah, how disappointing it was to imagine the people I tried to protect tearing one another apart like this. This world should be one of peace, of laws and societies built to sustain a violence-free life. I could never understand why people resorted to such drastic actions. Not when they had heroes like I around!
At least, I could never understand in this new, united world—no, hadn’t we spent more time living in peace than without it? It would depend on how historical periods were defined by the ordinary person. Time became more nebulous by the day. When I lived as a mortal, war remained—
Hm.
Regardless.
The body hid no secrets, gashed and torn beyond recognition, exposed bones and organs peeking out from cuts. A few teeth were dislodged in a manner where they looked as though they were torn out slowly, methodically. Not to mention, the injuries looked as if they were done to avoid vitals until the end.
Dragging out the crime. Did the culprit torture them for information? For valuables? Or for the sake of it?
“I think she’s sick, like, literally,” Charya said as she looked out the door before she glanced back at the corpse. “Hey, is that glitter?”
“Wait,” I said, looking at where the body’s cargo shorts were. A small object stuck out of a pocket and gleamed against the rays of light from the entrance. It seemed so small, almost impossible to notice, and as I went to retrieve the object, my gloved fingertip brushed against the glimmering tip. It stuck into my digits, sharp enough to sting, but not to pierce.
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I possessed a vast amount of expertise on anything related to magic. At a glance, the white gleam of this dagger made it clear how it brimmed with light magic. I stood up and pointed the dagger towards the corner. As I reached out, a circle of crystilare, solid light manifesting as bright, white crystals grew out of the ground in small clusters near my feet. Many confuse crystals of light for actual crystal creation magic, but even children should know the difference.
If not—then I would simply have to demonstrate it to them. All of them.
“A magical weapon,” I said and pocketed it. I reached out a hand to Charya, who looked away from the body and towards the crystilare I conjured. “We need to return immediately and run a background check on the victim. All I’ll need to do is look at some surveillance records and I’ll see if I can ascertain something based off of forensics and apartment ownership. Possession of a weapon such as this is highly dangerous, especially if there are more already distributed within this city.”
Citizen—no, suspect. Victim and a perpetrator. This may be more than I believed it to be, but I’d not back down now.
“You’d think they’d have the brain cells to check a corpse’s pockets, or even like, clean up the body,” Charya said and laughed. “That’s so silly! I love Maia so much, with all its weird bureaucratic steps to crime scenes and cut corners.”
“You hardly strike me as a person who understand bureaucracy,” I said, and she pouted.
“Heeeey, I used to be a civil lawyer!” She said. She took my hand and hopped to her feet, smile stretched across her face. “If anyone’s good at finding silly loopholes, it’s me! I think it’s because I’m hot, personally.”
“How can you be hot?” I said. “We’re barely out of winter, and you are only donned with a jacket for comfort. Ill fitting—it would do you good to consider wearing a more comfortable shirt.”
“Iiiiiii…” Charya’s smile drooped a tad. “You’re so special. It’s super funny though, so keep at it!”
“Shut up, Charya,” Kelsey said. I hadn’t realized she returned until she spoke, though this time she leaned against the doorway turned away from the body. “That’s not cool.”
“Whatever,” Charya said and stuck out a tongue before scurrying out the door. “We’re totally done, so I’m also totally outta here!”
“I didn’t give—“ I began, but she already ran towards the hover-car we arrived in. She’d have to wait for me regardless. That woman held no patience, not to mention how she spoke like she arrived from a different universe.
Kelsey stared at me as I met her at the doorway, hair disheveled and face pulled into an odd expression like she ate something sour. “I don’t know where she gets off, making fun of people like that,” she said.
“She speaks oddly,” I noted, “but I don’t see where she’s making jokes at my expensive. If anything, her incomprehensibility brings into question how well cooperation may go in dangerous situations.”
My shoulders ached, so I used the doorway to perform some stretches as I continued. “But I did already offer her the job, and so it is only right I honor my word and take her under my wing to help demonstrate to her the ethics and behavior of a true protector of the Lestaria Empire.”
Kelsey crossed her arms. She blew some hair out of her eyes, then spoke. “…Uh, right. Something like whatever you said. Listen, I don’t want to be the asshole in the sweet peach cobbler here, but you do realize we’re here for the job, and not the hero thing. Right?”
“So you may say,” I said, though I couldn’t help the sigh that escaped me. “I’m sure with time, however, you’ll realize the merits of helping your fellow citizens and will take on the responsibilities presented towards you to do good rather than to benefit yourself.”
Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Can you temper your expectations a little? I don’t throw up at corpses for fun, I’m doing it to not die on the street or move back in with my parents.”
“I know, but—“
“Whatever, it’s fine,” Kelsey waved me away. “We should get going. Otherwise we’ll talk in circles for the next who knows how long. I think you’re fine, weird, but fine. Leave it at that before I change my mind.”
“I’m not strange,” I said, but she turned to leave without regard for my reply.
If anything, they both were the disconnected ones. Charya spoke in riddles, while Kelsey carried herself as if she were an isolated flower in a barren desert rather than part of a glorious united home. If she had parents, why wasn’t she with them? Why did she chose this place?
…I lacked too much knowledge of modern social trends and sayings. I suppose I would need to take up the habit again and do my research. I thought I caught up a few decades ago and hadn’t bothered since, but it appeared I was wrong. Pulling out my phone and typing out a question regarding modern familial structures, I slowly made my way down the stairs and back to the parking lot.
But the dagger—it weighed as heavy as a grave sin in my pocket. Fitting, given the price it cost one to make such a power weapon: the life of another—no, the soul of another.