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Records of Zeph Einar, the Traveler [ROZETT]
Chapter 86 - Nightmare Night, fourth part. Suddenly, everything makes sense!

Chapter 86 - Nightmare Night, fourth part. Suddenly, everything makes sense!

Lurona city [southern shores of Fuminao Legacy Kingdom], local time [1793.12.--] [New Year Celebrations]

“What are we looking for?” Sangsu asked as Zeph carefully stepped closer to the explosion marks.

“Do we have any protection against eavesdropping?” Zeph asked instead.

“No. But La-Zora declared a total shutdown. All personnel is locked up in rooms with active enchantments with hand-picked guards. She is in the middle of checking the corridors with the rest of her group. After that, she will start inspecting people. Also, she checked the adjacent rooms and they are sealed now.”

That should be enough, he nodded to himself. Let’s hope they don’t have an undetectable bug planted… Although, bugging a crime scene would be stupid in itself.

“Let’s start with recounting, you can help me later. I guess that your people found the scene first?” he said, slowly scanning the rubble around the epicenter of the mess.

“Yes, during the ward round. The two of them made quick work of the Undead. Kahn reported directly to me as Jeongha kept guard. I was here in a minute with a few more fighters.” Zeph beckoned him to continue as he looked around. He would ask questions later – to not imply anything just yet. It was important to have an unperturbed account of a witness first. “The killed-off Undead already lain in a heap on the side. The three bodies of the deceased were lying on the ground around the round table. It seemed that they trashed in their last moments—noticeable by the dishes and chairs scattered around—but it was hard to tell if they struggled against opponents or if something else happened. Closer to the entrance were the two bodies that exploded. They reacted after I touched the closest one. The third one was on the other side of the table.”

Noticing that the man finished, Zeph mentally clicked his tongue. He hoped for more details. “How frequently the fighters were visiting the room during their rounds?”

“We were on high alert, so it should have been around every 15 minutes.”

Zeph’s eyes narrowed. That was a very strict timeframe.

“Do you remember how many sets of dishes there were? How many glasses, specifically?”

Sangsu thought on it for a moment—probably using his Memory PE—before answering. “For eight, maybe nine people. But that doesn’t say much. According to reports, multiple people visited this room before the incident. Most don’t care about the glassware they are leaving behind. We have people responsible for cleaning, after all.”

“Hmmm… how are our numbers? How frequently did they visit this room?”

“Hard to tell, no one kept track of it… At the time, we had 22 workers and 16 combatants on a break. All are Hannyajins, as per previous orders. Another 16 combatants were either patrolling or guarding our rooms and the staircase…”

Zeph nodded. More Hannyajins joined their ranks after Kwan got the land in the city. Some of them were people she had sent to other towns and cities when she was still in North Tarak. Some were newcomers who lived nearby. Their gang almost tripled in size; now sporting over 200 members overall. Not even half were dedicated fighters but, Hannyajins being Hannyajins, most of them had necessary prerequisites. For this operation, every capable hand was made a combatant. And almost one-fourth of their overall fighting force was now in this building.

“…They occupied at least ten rooms, but most of them used guest rooms further back the corridor. This one was used only because it had a good selection of rare liquors. For that exact reason, it was visited mostly by the workers, as our combatants would not allow themselves to get drunk. The deceased are all from our staff; none from the fighting force.”

Hmmm… despite setting this trap, the enemy achieved very little… Sowing mistrust among the members, maybe. Especially if the culprit is still alive. But killing five people at once would be a huge strain on their Soul… Would they be able to cope? Without blowing their disguise? On the other hand, it’s hard to believe it’s all. A suicide mission of an infiltrator wouldn’t do much in the long run. Especially because it’s not easy to make a spy from a Hannyajin—

His train of thought was interrupted when he found what he was looking for.

Sure, many strange, suspicious, or outright improbable acts were done in this place, but Zeph wasn’t knowledgeable enough about Soul Arts to come to any solid conclusion. The only esoteric field he would dare call his specialization, was Mana.

And he knew that to normalize Mana types and density over a whole room, going as far as clearing residue Magicules from inside solid matter, was no easy feat by any means. Not without satiating the space fully with one’s Veil. But not only there was not enough time for that, the culprit would have to get rid of his Mana before leaving while somehow keeping Ambient Mana from cluttering the air once again. It just wasn’t doable, and an unnecessary hassle – the room wouldn’t look this… bare if the Ambient Mana flooded the void in such a way, but it would surely make for a better cover. And if the person left their Mana in the room, everyone would feel it.

Of course, they disrupted the normalized Mana a long time ago. Not to mention the short fight and explosions that happened before that. They mixed things a little. But Zeph still remembered how smooth the Mana was in the room and its general vicinity in comparison to the hallway further back. When he started scanning the air and surfaces with his Mana tendrils and his unfinished technique, he sometimes felt like moving through a Manaless space because of the uniformity and the lack of clumps of Magicules.

No, a certain item had to be used. Zeph could think of only one solution.

The best part was, the most logical thing to do was to set it off on the table or one of the chairs, as the explosions should cover any tracks it would leave.

And indeed, a few pieces of a broken, wooden chair sported irregular, flacked indents. The wood beneath and around the spots was cracked and weakened.

He played with the broken parts for a moment, trying to roughly puzzle them together.

“How was the screening before the incident, by the way?” he asked absentmindedly. Because of all this ruckus, he never learned if they found anyone marked by Ghrughah’s contraptions.

“We managed to finish them while waiting for you, but nothing out of the ordinary. We only had a basic truth-telling device, but it is more than enough for our brethren. No one was marked in the tunnels, and everyone seemed to be in their right mind… Well, that last part was a rushed job because of the incident. We decided it would be better to leave the thorough inspection to Aisha, either way.”

Zeph’s eyes narrowed. I see…

A moment later, he put down the last part of the seat. Riddled with holes as it was, all elements still seemed to fit quite nicely.

In the center, a small, circular indentation of flacked and cracked wood was now revealed. It was smaller than his hand and only a few millimeters deep, but the rough surface was a dead giveaway.

Gru, why wouldn’t you try to find your favorite snack? he sent to his companion while removing the glove from his right hand.

Grrraa! it sent an imaginary vibration, happily obliging and moving a few of his appendages closer to Zeph skin.

“We are almost done,” Zeph declared, not turning around. “Can you bring my spear and the crate near the door? What color is the powder you brought?”

Gru, are you keeping an eye open?

Grawways! his companion confirmed.

“Sure. It’s crimson red. It’s the strongest color I could find,” Sangsu said, lifting the crate and moving towards the spear.

Of course it’s crimson red… Zeph thought, rolling his eyes. I just hope they don’t use it as body paint before a battle…

“Then, find some white fabric, too. The silkier, the better. It can be a handkerchief, or something similar. As always, the more the better.”

“Will be done.” The man shrugged. Zeph could feel it in his Veil when Sangsu walked past.

Gru kept his eye-on-a-stalk—the one on Zeph’s back—near the armor surface, making it look like a small, black bead that was partially sticking out from between the plates. It was enough for Gru to see what was happening behind their collective back, so Zeph didn’t have to worry about a surprise attack.

He really couldn’t wait to try and learn the sensory-sharing technique, though.

Zeph put his bare hand on the wood. As the commander put down the equipment and left the room, Gru immediately broke through Zeph’s skin. Six black, thin appendages started wiggling and squirming all around, searching. They quickly scanned the surface and, not finding any trail, started to push into the many cracks and holes. After a few seconds, one of them started wiggling wildly and the other five quickly retracted and attacked the same place from different angles, pushing aggressively into the material.

Merrrcurrr! Gru confirmed his finding ecstatically.

Good! Finish quickly and hide.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Gra!

It didn’t take longer than a heartbeat and the small deposit of mercury was empty. Zeph stood up and kicked the wood away, scattering the fragments against the wall.

It would be better if no one noticed what he has found just yet. He would prefer to keep an eye on Sangsu, but there was no way he would show Gru’s real body openly. Also, this small gesture was paramount to build some trust between them. It wouldn’t do to treat him like a suspect.

He left the room and started preparing the tools. He spread a few sheets of paper on the floor, then started putting small amounts of glue on them using a small spatula. He had, all in all, seven different types of glue. Some started to dry already because the jars weren’t hermetic, but it was of no consequence.

A moment later, Sangsu returned with a few patches of white fabric. Instead of interrupting Zeph, he looked closely at what he was doing.

Zeph cleaned the spatula with a rag and started rubbing it with his naked hand to put some grease on it.

“Ah, right… Sangsu, can you dip your fingers in blood and touch a paper with fingertips only? Wait until there is barely any left on your fingers, and do not use any force… and do it quickly.”

The commander looked at him quizzically. “Is that a new method of tracking?”

“Not new for me. But I am unsure if it will work for your people. The marks left by a finger can be unrecognizable for some races.”

Sangsu nodded in understanding and left his fingerprints on the page in quick order, using blood from one of the Zombiefied bodies.

Taking a good look at the imprints, it was clear that this method should work. The shapes were all wrong – more like vertical, wavy groves – but each finger had a different pattern.

“Should I prepare more blood?” Sangsu suggested after seeing the results.

“Yea, good idea.” Zeph nodded.

As the commander returned to the room, Zeph focused on the spatula and placed his index finger on the surface, pushing slightly.

Next, he checked the powder. Thankfully, it was a whole set that even had a soft powder brush. He didn’t ask for it to simplify things, but he was grateful for the small improvement. Three other colors were present, all in different shades of red. The flat, round glass containers kept the contents from escaping, as all material was in a powdered state.

He took a pinch of the crimson-red, closing the container right after, and spread it on the spatula. After brushing it delicately, he put it down and started touching the glue-covered sheets with his bare hand, trying to find one that was the most viscous. After choosing one, he pressed it against the spatula holding his fingerprint.

The results were mixed. On one hand, he managed to take all of the powder from the surface. On the other, the glue moved slightly, distorting the imprint.

He repeated the procedure many times, using all types of glue in different states of dryness while noting the observations in his Notebook.

After half an hour, he had four similarly-effective options. Next, he tested them with the fabric. It was a little tricky because of how stretchy it was, but he quickly learned a trick to have the material uniformly spread on a hard, flat surface.

In the end, he chose the glue that dried the fastest – for obvious reasons. Though, he would have to time it properly because he only had one chance. As so, instead of going directly for the doors of the crime scene, he trained on the handles of nearby doors.

As with any normal doors in this civilization, the handle was affixed to the surface and used only for pushing or pulling. Spring mechanisms keeping a door shut had rollers, so opening one was as easy as exerting a bit of force in either direction. Locking mechanisms, no matter if mechanical or enchanted, were always placed either in the center of the door or on a nearby wall – like in this case – and each one was different from another. There was no standardization of any kind for locks and keys, after all.

After making three repeats successfully in a row, Zeph was confident enough to go for the real deal.

Powdering. Gently stocking with a brush. Applying glue on the fabric. Counting to two hundred and twenty.

He could already see that only seven fingerprints on the handle were intact. The rest was smeared by the last few hands that touched it. It was a surprisingly good result, in his opinion.

Now! He finished counting and lifted the fabric. Very carefully – to not stretch or fold it in any way – he covered the top, then the sides of the handle. Thankfully, not only its shape was rather simple – just a thick, metal bar with rounded edges, bent like a hook – but he also didn’t find any fingerprint at the bottom.

Zeph grimaced, seeing a small fold on the fabric on the inside bent. He expected some because of the shape, but it landed right in the middle of one of the fingerprints.

Sighing in defeat, he used a folded sheet of paper to delicately press the fabric to the sides of the handle. After a few seconds, he pulled it away.

As he expected, one of the fingerprints was split in half by the fold. He quickly put the cloth on the ground, making sure the fabric was straight but relaxed, and put a smear of glue directly in the center of the white scar. By pinching the top and bottom, he formed a small fold going through the scar and the whole height of the piece of cloth. The line didn’t touch any of the intact fingerprints, thankfully. After making sure that he aligned the cloth correctly, he used the back of the brush to press the fold down, avoiding the cracked fingerprint by pressing beneath and above it.

Mildly satisfied with his work, he turned to the second handle.

“Sangsu, can you make sure the fold is aligned properly? As the solidifying concoction dries, it may deform the material.”

His new assistant nodded and took over the watch duty.

Heh… when did that happen, he thought mirthfully while preparing to handle the second… Handle… he realized and grimaced. Ugh. I hate English sometimes. Anyway, from now on I dub Sangsu the Watson. At least in my head.

This time, he managed to do a perfect imprint. The internal handle was less important in his mind, so he cursed himself for starting with the external one.

He kneeled down and meticulously laid the cloth on the floor, then straightened up to take a deeper breath. “Hah, it’s done. Now we just have to wait and we are done here.”

“How long?” Sangsu asked.

“Ten minutes? It should be enough,” he said, putting back his glove.

Zeph looked around. The hallway stretched for twenty meters, or so, before turning southward on both ends. Ten doors dotted the walls sparsely. He and Sangsu were occupying the hallway’s left side, while the commander’s right-hand man was standing near the hallway’s turn opposite to them. Behind him and the bent, were the guest rooms.

Zeph wondered if Aisha started her interrogation already.

I am not sure how to present all this without causing even more trouble for us… The morale has to be quite low right now…

Shaking his head, he started to gather their belongings. He never was a leading type of character, so he decided to leave the problem in Aisha’s hands for the most part.

Just as he was showing Sangsu how to match the fingerprints by overlapping the sheet of paper and the now-hardened cloth while placing a source of light behind both, a loud noise of something breaking through a wooden door startled them.

Immediately, Zeph could hear multiple shouts coming from the direction of the guest rooms as people yelled at each other. But one scream dwarfed any other.

“You dare to LIE in my presence!” the unmistakable, throaty voice of Aisha absolutely overpowered the noise, forcing others to quiet down.

They exchanged a quick glance, then bolted for their gear and items.

Sangsu grabbed the crate and Zeph took the lead with his spear at the ready. Weak, distant laughter, interrupted by wet coughs, could be heard as they run for the guest rooms.

As Zeph made the turn, he saw Aisha hesitating as a woman on the floor tried to laugh despite her broken bones and caved-in chest. The blood was pouring from her mouth, slowly forming a puddle under her malformed body. And yet, she laughed.

The remnants of the door were laying slightly to their left – the strengthened material didn’t break even after the force of impact dislodged them from the doorframe.

Zeph slowed his charge to a trot, raising a fist to signal Sangsu to stay behind him. He could feel when Gru activated the item-faking skin tattoo/enchantment a few times in a row. The side of his hip got slightly numb from it.

“And what will you do about it, Priestess?” the woman asked in a raspy, wheezing voice. “You want confirmation? Cough… Yes, I am responsible for their deaths, heh—”

She tried to laugh, but all that came was just a violent fit of coughing.

Aisha’s eyes squinted. Zeph recognized this look on her face. The woman would be dead already if she didn’t want something from her.

He stopped three meters from the scene, relaxing his battle-ready posture.

“What are you waiti.. Gah!” the woman choked and wheezed before taking another deep breath. She was losing strength, and quickly. “Kill me… hah… Or I will do… it myself…”

So that’s why Aisha is hesitating! Zeph realized and took a battle stance once again. Self-hostage. If she can blow herself up like the people in that room….

He took a few steps back and made sure to cover for Sangsu and the valuable cargo he was holding. He also started forming a force shield he invented back in the Barringstone and took a better grip on his Veil, moving it to the front.

Meanwhile, Aisha frowned. “Is that all? Is that your pride, Mijalo the Hannyajin?!” she shouted the last part with anger and deep resentment.

“Like... I had… a choice…“ Mijalo croaked, closing her eyes.

No Hannaya! HUMAN! Gru sent suddenly, and Zeph could see Aisha’s eyes widening after receiving the message.

She jumped back into the room just as the body started to rapidly bloat, while Zeph concentrated on his Veil. Instead of a frag-grenade-like explosion made of bones, the body raptured, splattering the vicinity with a foul mix of blood and sickly-yellow substance. The stench was unbearable. Even if Zeph’s shield caught the speedy droplets, the mist of sprayed liquids quickly covered the whole hallway.

Zeph stabilized his mind with Will, and forced himself to take a deep breath to hold it. He turned, took a few empty sheets of paper out of the crate Sangsu was holding, reeling back as he was, and patted him to get his attention. He gestured for him to run back, trying to express why.

The paper and clothes were getting wet.

After his assistant started retreating, Zeph quickly run for the corpse. The chest cavity was full of melted organs. Nothing was left but yellow, green, and black sludge. It was impressive, in a way. An enchantment or Spell that could do so much damage to the body in such a short time.

The woman’s fingers were already wet with blood, so he just made sure to smear the excess on her clothes before making a few imprints on the paper. They weren’t ideal, as he refused to put the paper on any solid surface for the fear of it soaking the liquids spread all around. He used his gloved hand as a board, right after using the already-wet, surface sheets to clean it up, of course.

As he was rolling up the papers Aisha slowly came closer. Her body was steaming and her Veil was blocking the doorframe to the room, forming a mist around it as the heat-realated-Magicules vaporized the foul aerosol from the vicinity. She was holding a wet piece of cloth to her face, too, covering her mouth and nose.

“Any results?” she asked in a muffled voice. “I need to purge the place, and we need to move. If this attack is biological in nature…”

She didn’t have to explain more to him. It was the exact reason he was in a hurry right now. If some kind of biological weapon was once again at play, many of their people would die. His immunological system could probably deal with anything the enemy could throw at him right now, and with minimal effort at that, but the longer others were exposed to the pathogens, the more risk they were in.

“Move everyone to one room.” He already had an idea of how she wanted to proceed with this ‘purge’ she spoke of. Flooding the whole building with caustic gases, that is. It would clean more than just the filth, though. “But I need her whole arm. I can take care of it,” he forced himself to take another breath to be able to speak. “Take this to a safe place and wait until I make the arm safe,” he handed her the rolled-up papers. “I will reveal my findings before everyone.”

“If you say so…” She easily chopped the arm off and dropped her weapon on the floor, causing another burst of mist, then took the papers in her—probably sterilized by the heat—hand. Somehow, it was already cooled down, because the paper didn’t fry at all. “Wait for a moment.”

She turned back and handed the papers to someone in the room, giving orders.

Gru, what happened back then? he used the moment he had to ask his companion about his last warning.

Died. Suicided. Ate a big fragment! Gru sent back, alongside a slightly-confusing Soul memory. No Hannaya inside! Mostly human inside!

A bodily-modified human… Zeph concluded.

He would smile, if not for the damage the suicide explosion actually did. But it fitted perfectly.

Seeing the Hannyajin organizing and Aisha slowly walking up to him, he knew the time to unveil the story behind the latest events was nearing.