“Name?”

“Selene. I go by the name Nitya in the Adventurer’s Guild.”

“Gender?”

“…. I think female?”

“Occupation?”

“Adventurer. Part-time private detective.”

The girl, known as Nitya in the Guild, but whose real name was Selene, answered the guard’s questions with a bored tone. While he wasn’t paying attention, she discreetly yawned.

She had repeated this conversation countless times during her two years as an adventurer and detective. There would always be those who, on the fringes of legality, would come knocking on her door with desperate requests. Things like catching cheating lovers or doing surveillance. Completing such requests inevitably involved stepping on some minor legal boundaries, such as trespassing or theft.

Though her lockpicking and stealth skills were top-notch, she was human after all, and had gotten her feet wet, or rather, gotten caught a few times. Being summoned to the station was one thing, just a matter of bribing the enthusiastic guards and things would be fine. But being apprehended on the spot meant dealing with those same enthusiastic guards and a stint in prison, surviving on the prison’s self-service food…

The middle-aged guard continued to question Selene, and the topic quickly shifted to the details of the incident.

“He walked right into my house, you know. I didn’t open the door myself.” Selene pointed in the direction of her home. “I thought he was coming to commission me, so I sat down and chatted with him for a while. He said he wanted me to find James Vinylon. You should know him, the unfortunate gentleman from last month.”

“He said Mr. James stole a very valuable book. Apparently, it’s a type of secret chronicle that records secret knowledge. He seemed to be on a commission for someone else, wanting to find Mr. James… I’m a person of principle, and I don’t target former clients, so I refused on moral grounds. He got angry and tried to attack me. I was defending myself in close combat and accidentally stabbed him…”

Selene spoke, half-truths and half-lies.

It wasn’t necessary to mention the hallucinogenic herbs. That would only cause her trouble. After all, logically, she had acted in self-defense, without initiating the attack. She needed to add a bit more to her story. But she could mention that James had actually stolen the chronicle. This kind of case, involving superhumans, would certainly garner the police department’s attention. They would undoubtedly contact the local authorities in Nymph Fu and begin an investigation. By then, the person who had their chronicle stolen would surely be too busy with their own problems to bother with her…

She had faith in the police department.

Though this was a world where superhuman strength existed, it still maintained the overall balance of national power being greater than individual power. Superhumans had some privileges, but they were still small fry in the face of the police department. The police department had the authority to investigate anyone involved in a case, from ordinary citizens to the president of the magical association… Though for truly powerful figures, the police department was just an annoyance, but how powerful could someone be who had their chronicles stolen by a mere commoner?

She’d probably be in trouble if her identity came to light, which is why she come here personally and let the police department took on this kind of missing person case.

“Go wait there. Wait for the crime scene investigators and the coroner to return.” The guard sitting across from her was already quite familiar with her. He knew that what she said was generally consistent with the actual situation, but the details were vague and believable.

But he still solemnly wrote down the words “Involving superhumans” in his notes, intending to forward it directly to the superhuman division that handled such matters.

—— Schwerdt Town didn’t have a permanent superhuman squad, they would need to call one in from elsewhere.

For these ordinary guards, dealing with drunks, thieves, and other routine security matters was already considered their duty. Cases involving superhumans were best left to the experts.

“Same place?” Selene yawned and stood up.

The middle-aged guard gave her a look, then said helplessly,

“Same place. You know, they know you’re delicate, so there’s a stable temperature spell there… It’s not specifically for you, but the higher-ups feel the temperature’s been unusual this year, so they’re worried that criminals might freeze to death.”

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Not that different?” Selene pondered for a moment. “I also think the temperature’s been a little off this year. Honestly, isn’t something big about to happen? Like the ‘Arorne Black Sun’ ten years ago, or the collapse of the Summit city two years ago?”

“Those are things I know. How could you possibly know?” The guard laughed, waving his hand. “Go on, scram.”

“Alright, I’m off.”

...

The Schwerdt Town police station inspector general, Duquesne, accompanied by two trainee guards, walked to Hedel Street and knocked on the door himself.

The inspector, who seemed a bit frail, had a head of slightly graying blond hair. His brown eyes held a stern expression. He had been transferred here from Molan City three years ago. According to discussions among the station personnel, he had been “exiled” to this remote region because he lost in the competition for a major supervisory position there.

Proof of this was his profession: “Inspector,” a second-tier superhuman.

This was a very common profession in the Lanstier Empire’s police department and military. With his second-tier strength, even if he didn’t want to be an inspector, he could have served as an instructor in the army, a true pillar of the empire. But he was stuck in a position of wasted talent, serving as the inspector in this remote town, a place where major crimes were rare, a low-paying position with no hope of promotion. A normal person wouldn’t come here under any circumstances…

But Duquesne had never expressed any opinion on this matter, neither affirming nor denying. He treated his subordinates kindly and with warmth. The police department members had gossiped about it, but then stopped. After all, he was their superior, and it wasn’t a good idea to gossip behind his back.

With this current case, involving superhumans, it was naturally entrusted to the only superhuman in the Schwerdt Town police station.

Duquesne, somewhat accustomed to waiting at the door, looked at the two trainee guards he had brought along for training with a hint of amusement. He said,

“What do you think we’ll see when we get inside?”

The taller trainee thought for a moment. He’d heard about Lady Nitya, a detective known for her solid reputation and meticulousness. He replied,

“Probably a mess. Debris scattered everywhere. The attacker would be lying there, a dagger in his chest… Even if the crime scene wasn’t like that originally, she would have tidied it up. It would be more beneficial for her.”

Duquesne turned to the other trainee guard.

“I think… there might be a bit of chaos, but not necessarily a ton of debris. Because Lady Nitya seems to be a pretty experienced superhuman, and a spellcaster too, so she would definitely have contingency plans for such situations. If there was a fight in her house, she would probably have the advantage.”

Both trainees clearly saw this question as a test from the inspector, so they both used their knowledge and logic to provide their answers.

Duquesne merely nodded slightly, without evaluating their answers. He looked at the door, which was slowly creaking open, and stepped inside.

The two trainees followed closely behind, and the three quickly walked through the hallway, revealing the homeowner’s wealth and taste. They turned into the reception room, designed for guests, and were met with the scene inside.

Everything was clean and tidy. The fireplace flickered quietly. Vases were neatly arranged on both sides of the hallway entrance. A square rug covered the floor. It didn’t look like a crime scene at all, but a room prepared for some kind of party.

Two chairs were set up in the living room. One, facing the hallway entrance, had a blanket and a book placed on it. The chair facing away from the hallway entrance had a man in a coat leaning against it. His head hung down, his hands on the armrests… One trainee boldly approached and saw that the man was clearly dead, a dagger piercing his chest.

The trainee pictured the scene in his mind: two people facing each other, talking, Nitya suddenly drawing a dagger and plunging it into the dead man’s chest. The deceased, bound by some force, was unable to resist and died silently.

“This… Inspector…”

The trainee looked at Duquesne, the leader of the group, hesitant to speak.

Duquesne walked forward, scrutinizing the body. He frowned, then pulled out the dagger and leaned down to examine the wound.

One fatal blow… a second injury… He pondered for a moment, trying to think from the perspective of Nitya.

Assuming Nitya’s account was true, that she was attacked, then what would she have done after killing the attacker? Why would she have stabbed the deceased a second time? Was it because she thought he was a close-combat superhuman and feared he wouldn’t be incapacitated with one strike? Or… Duquesne suddenly had a look of realization.

Perhaps she had initially intended to loot the body, then discard the corpse in the canal at night, pretending nothing happened. That’s why she’d pulled out the dagger, just to search the body… But then she changed her mind and decided to report the crime, so she casually stabbed the weapon back into the victim?

Based on his multiple conversations with her in the interrogation room, it was very likely.

Duquesne, under the questioning gaze of the two trainees, searched the body, finding a few red banknotes and some silver coins. Then, he searched again, just in case, finally finding only a few copper coins, worth less than silver coins.

…. So, that was it. Too little money to warrant breaking the law, and afraid of retribution from the deceased’s allies, she planned to seek protection from the police department?

Duquesne easily made his deduction. This was the truth.

He had confidence in his detective skills, but confidence alone wasn’t enough. So, he walked to the body, placed his right hand on the deceased man's head, and pressed gently.

The two trainees instantly perked up. They knew that the “Inspector” profession, though common in the police department, was so popular because of its ability to make the dead speak, which was incredibly helpful in investigations. They were eager to witness it, but had never seen the inspector use it, so they were very curious.

Under their expectant gazes, Duquesne’s right hand emitted a faint black metallic glow. The deceased man’s head, which he was pressing, was irradiated by the glow. The lifeless body suddenly convulsed, limbs stretching out, facial features contorting, as if experiencing excruciating torture. His cloudy eyes twitched wildly, unable to find a focus.

The body trembled for a few seconds before returning to normal. Duquesne pressed slightly harder, lifting the deceased man’s head, and asked in a cold voice.

“Did you attack the owner of this house?”