The corpse’s lifeless eyes stared blankly at Duquesne, the flesh around its throat wriggled for a moment, then a raspy, deep voice emanated from its mouth:

“…. Yes.”

Duquesne heard the definite answer, but then furrowed his brow.

He felt as if the corpse had initially intended to give a different answer, but had changed its mind at the last moment to “Yes.” This made him cautious, and he secretly increased his magical output.

The black metallic glow on his right hand intensified, and the corpse trembled again under the amplified radiance. The two trainees, witnessing this unusual display, looked at each other, as if they wanted to ask a question or take some action. But Duquesne hadn’t given any orders, and they were afraid of interrupting his interrogation with reckless actions. So, they could only continue to stand guard.

“Did you attack the owner of this house?” Duquesne repeated his previous question. “【 Tell the truth. 】”

His words seemed to carry a kind of coercive power. The corpse’s head struggled against this power, as if it wanted to escape the grip of his hand, but it was ultimately unsuccessful, only able to force out a few words between its teeth.

“Yes, I did.”

The voice was still deep and raspy, but the pronunciation was clear and distinct, standard Lanstier.

Duquesne nodded slightly, a cold sweat seemingly trickling down his forehead. He brushed it away with his left hand, then continued asking.

“Who are you?”

“I am a private detective from Nymph Fu…”

“Who sent you?”

“A gentleman in red robes… like an ancient noble.” The corpse spoke in a fragmented way.

“What’s his name? 【 Tell the truth. 】”

“I… I don’t know.” The corpse’s teeth seemed to tremble slightly.

“What was your objective?”

“Find James Vinylon… or the book he stole…”

“Why did you attack this house?”

“The gentleman gave me a lot of information… I found out that James Vinylon had contact with her before he disappeared… There would be clues in her home at least…”

The corpse choked out these pieces of information, its body starting to tremble abnormally, its flesh twitching, as if it were about to explode from the pressure. Seeing this, Duquesne had no choice but to finish quickly. He pondered

As the words faded, Duquesne’s right hand released its grip on the man’s head. The corpse, which had been slightly suspended by Duquesne’s force, settled back into the chair, its arms drooping, its head leaning back against the backrest, silent and still.

Duquesne, somewhat repulsed, pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his hands. Then he saw the curious expressions on the two trainees and explained,

“It seems there was some kind of external force interfering, so I increased the intensity a bit.”

“External force? Was it the guy in the red robes he mentioned?” The taller trainee asked hesitantly.

“Maybe, don’t worry about it.” Duquesne refused to elaborate.

He still had some doubts in his mind.

When he interrogated with his usual intensity, the answers he received were always certain. The fact that there was an external force influencing the answers he got, leading him to increase the intensity and try to manipulate the outcome, but still receive certain answers… This unlikely situation presented two possibilities.

The first was that his regular interrogation had already overcome the external force. This might have been some kind of item planted in the deceased’s mind beforehand, extremely weak, automatically deactivated by a second-tier superhuman like him.

The second was that the force influencing the answers had been present the entire time, meaning all the answers he had heard were distorted and unreliable.

Duquesne sent the two trainees to inspect other areas of the room, then pondered for a while, ultimately dismissing the second possibility.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Remotely influencing his “Inspector” interrogation? The other party would have to be at least fourth tier, and definitely a spellcaster specializing in spirit power… According to his knowledge, there were only a dozen or so such professions, and most of them were concentrated in the Allinge Tribal Nation on the South Continent. The probability of one suddenly appearing in the North Continent was extremely low.

The first possibility was much more likely.

Looking at it this way, this sweet-talking Lady Nitya was a victim in this incident. If the lost secret chronicle would attract more followers, he wouldn’t mind offering some protection.

While he was deep in thought, he didn’t notice the deceased man’s head trembling slightly. A faint, almost imperceptible, blue light escaped from his ear, floated in the air for a moment, then sunk into the teacup on the table. The tea in the cup instantly became clouded with a white mist.

The two trainees quickly inspected the rest of the house and found no other clues. So, Duquesne waved his hand. Case closed.

The murder in the house. The victim killed the perpetrator. Simple as that!

The investigation methods in this frontier town were very straightforward.

...

Selene sat in her cell, bored, and idly doodled on the wall with her fingers.

Her fingers traced a series of pale purple curves – her mana. The curves connected, forming four majestic spires, surrounded by ten smaller, thorn-crowned towers.

This was the image she had seen every time she used her divination ritual, seeking answers from the gods.

After two years on the Divine Construct, she knew what it represented.

The four spires symbolized the four Primal Gods who created the world. The ten crown-topped towers represented the ten gods who maintained the order and survival of the world…

She drew these symbols, really, with no specific meaning. She wasn’t praying that the inspector wouldn’t discover her lies, nor was she worshiping them. She was just bored.

“Speaking of, which god answers me every time… I hope it’s the God of Wisdom. Maybe next time they’ll throw in an extra point of intelligence… Or the War God. Maybe he’ll bestow a point of Strength. Then I’ll be able to wrestle a bear…”

She muttered to herself, then suddenly heard the sound of chains and locks clanking from the neighboring cell, as if a prisoner was moving about.

Selene immediately became interested, quietly moving closer to the wall to listen in. A second later, she was startled by a strange sound from the neighboring cell.

“Roar… Ugh…”

It sounded like some kind of wild beast growling, with a terrifying wildness and intimidation. It also sounded like the last breath of a dying man, filled with regret and resentment. The two completely different and conflicting sounds blended together, creating a strange sound that could make anyone’s scalp tingle.

She unconsciously took a few steps back, putting some distance between herself and the wall that separated her cell from the neighboring one.

After half a minute, she realized that she wasn’t fighting in some dangerous ruins or an uninhabited wilderness, but in a police station cell. She relaxed slightly.

At the same time, the guards outside also heard the sounds coming from inside. The familiar middle-aged guard walked over, nodded at Selene, more as a form of reassurance than anything else, then went further back, towards the cell where the noise was coming from.

Selene could only see his brow wrinkle, his throat twitch, as if he had seen something extremely unpleasant.

“What’s going on?” She asked, trying to gauge the situation. “The sound from the cell next door was really unsettling.”

“…. Nothing, really.” The middle-aged guard spoke as if he were trying to suppress a feeling of disgust. His voice was unnatural. “It’s a very well-known thief. You must have heard of him. Mob.”

Selene thought for a moment, then said in surprise,

“He disappeared a month ago. So, you guys caught him? Well, even though I’ve always disliked him, a petty thief who steals things and beats up his homeowner, a real expert in gambling, drinking, and whoring, the way ya'll torturing him is a little…”

“What are you thinking?” The guard’s initial tension was dispelled by her words. His voice became resigned. “We haven’t tortured him at all.”

He paused, as if considering whether or not to say what came next. But finally, he came back, sat cross-legged at the entrance to Selene’s cell, and began to recount Mob’s story.

“He was missing for a few days at first. We weren’t really bothered to go looking for him. You know, the police department is always short-staffed… But then, one evening, a resident reported to the patrol guards that there were strange noises coming from the nearby sewers. They asked us to go check it out.”

“You know, sewers are a real breeding ground for all kinds of things. Dead bodies, excrement, sewage, mutated beasts, all mixed together. The Divine Glory Church’s priests have to come and purify them every week. If something happens there, it could be a small plague, or worse, a mass resurrection of the dead. So, when the guards who received the report told the station about the situation, they immediately took a large group to investigate the sewers.

“It was a big deal. Even the Carline priest was alerted. But in the end, they didn’t find anything, concluding that everything was normal.”

The middle-aged guard said, making a face towards the neighboring cell.

“Except for him. He was found a few days after the cleanup by the Carline priest, who was purifying the sewage. He gave Mob some basic aid, then transferred him to us… It was very strange. His entire body was rotting, then started growing pus-filled, mushy flesh. His skin looked like it had been melted by fire, like wax. His whole body was limp, like a pile of mud. It’s hard to say if he even has bones left… For your mental health, it’s best not to see him.”

Selene nodded wisely.

“Didn’t you try any kind of treatment? Just watch him die?”

“If even the Divine Glory Church’s priests couldn’t do anything, what could we do?” The middle-aged guard sighed, stood up, and walked away. “Let’s just hope he’s strong enough to survive.”

“I’m not going to miss a guy like him.” Selene sneered.

“I think so too, but you’d best not say that out loud.”

The middle-aged guard turned away from her, and then there was a sound of conversation. Within a few minutes, he came back, opening her cell door under her bewildered stare, and said,

“You’ve been bailed out. You don’t have to spend the night here.”

Huh?

Selene unconsciously asked,

“Who?”

“An acquaintance of yours. Louise Antinoa, Miss Louise.”