“By the way… there are so many people. Do we have to follow each and every one of them?” Louise had taken the list of cemetery visitors and, seeing the densely packed names, two or three hundred of them, asked dubiously as Selene and Duquesne were discussing the details of the artist’s life.

“Of course not,” Duquesne immediately replied, then explained in detail, “Actually, this investigation, like the artist’s suicide case, doesn’t require you to actually find anything. You just need to apply enough pressure on the remaining heretics.”

He paused, then added,

“Including the cemetery investigation and the town patrols. All my arrangements aren’t aimed at capturing the heretics. Maintaining the status quo is the best option.”

This was a sensible approach.

The enemy was hidden, they were in the light. It would be hard for the station and the church to find them quickly, and even if they did find them, it would be difficult to capture or kill them all. They had no idea about the enemy’s numbers, strength, or location. Acting rashly, although they could use their strength advantage—the church was naturally adept at dealing with heretics—and achieve some results, casualties were unavoidable. The cost might be the lives of citizens, or even the guards or priests.

Unlike the heretics, the station and the church had their bottom lines and principles. Duquesne wasn’t someone who disregarded the lives of his subordinates, or someone who hated evil so much that he couldn’t wait a single day. He preferred to use a safe, conservative approach to resolve the crisis in town.

Guards patrolling the streets, superhumans searching everywhere, tight security at the cemetery… The pressure from all sides would make those in the shadows afraid to act rashly. After all, even brainless heretics valued their lives, and after a few days, they’d realize that the station held an insurmountable advantage.

While they were cowering in fear, the station’s investigation would continue, and reinforcements from the big city would arrive at any moment… They could either leave town or continue to hide, and hiding was clearly the inferior option. After all, there was no way they could outlast the station, which was backed by the state.

No matter what they chose, the crisis in Schwerdt Town would be resolved.

“And if they truly are brainless, and choose to make another move before reinforcements arrive, these measures can instantly become deadly blades,” Duquesne said with a slight smile. “Though I haven’t heard about your specific professions or levels, I assume you’re all quite skilled.”

Selene had single-handedly taken down more than a hundred heretics, and Louise was an elf who had lived for hundreds of years and definitely wasn’t as weak as she appeared. As for Richter… Duquesne didn’t believe his denial. After all, there were photos of him in the newspapers a few years ago. He was confident he’d find a familiar face if he looked through old newspapers.

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—This was one of the reasons he’d quickly trusted Richter. After all, someone with his status and background, even if he had a hidden identity, was probably just a Mittal spy, which was much better than a heretic.

The Imperial College of Mittal was one of the best academies in the Divine Construct. Its students and teachers were among the best in the world. For example, the graduation requirement for superhuman students was to reach the third tier.

Even for superhuman professions that didn’t focus on combat, they were still stronger than first-tier combat professions.

Therefore, Duquesne had complete confidence in the abilities of these three—if they truly encountered the heretics, the heretics would be the ones running away.

“But I’m not saying you don’t have to do anything. Investigating everyone isn’t realistic, but investigating a few of the more suspicious visitors should be doable in a few days,” Duquesne picked up a pen and circled a few names on the list—those who had no dead relatives or friends, yet had suddenly visited the cemetery.

—The Divine Construct had pens, magical machinery, and magical artillery, but it didn’t have guns, or even gunpowder.

Selene glanced at the circled names, thought for a moment, and said in surprise,

“I remember that guy. He hangs around the gambling dens on Thel Street… the kind in the taverns.”

The taverns on Thel Street usually ran small gambling dens. Even though Duquesne turned a blind eye to these illegal operations, they never went too far. She’d followed a commissioner’s husband there once and discovered that he wasn’t having an affair, but gambling every day.

—Not that that was much better.

That man was a security guard at the gambling den. He’d made things a little difficult for her investigation, so she remembered him.

“It seems you have a lead. Let’s go with that. Come back to me if you find anything,” Duquesne said, politely showing them the door. “The station doesn’t provide lunch.”

...

The three of them walking together would be too conspicuous, so after a brief discussion, they decided to split up. Louise went to Green Land Street to investigate the artist’s suicide case. Selene and Richter went to Thel Street, planning to find the man in the gambling dens there. Then they would split up again, one following the target, the other investigating the target's home.

Strictly speaking, entering a private residence was illegal, but since the head of the local police station was on their side, there wasn’t much to worry about.

Considering that the two of them were rather noticeable, they went back to the detective office to put on disguises.

“…Stay still.”

Holding various cosmetics and an brush, Selene pressed down on Richter’s head, making him look straight ahead. Her tone wasn’t very friendly.

“Has no one ever put makeup on you before? You keep moving around. I feel like I’m butchering a pig.”

Cosmetics weren’t cheap in this era, and the selection wasn’t very good. She’d specifically gone to Nymph Fu to have various items custom-made, spending almost two gold coins. Richter moving his head a few times would make several of her coins vanish into thin air.

Richter, feeling an itch on his face, sighed and let her paint his face.

Then Selene filled a basin with water—the mirror in her house hadn’t been replaced yet—and put makeup on herself.

After disguising themselves to look like ordinary people, and packing up her cosmetics, Selene and Richter went out, one after the other, pretending to be strangers, and headed towards their destination.

An underground gambling den on Thel Street.