Early in the morning, within an elegantly furnished room, a handsome man sat quietly by the window, absorbed in a beautifully bound book of creation myths. He looked like a figure painted into an oil canvas.
Sunlight streamed through the window, spilling over him and casting a sacred glow upon his refined elegance.
Then, in the very next instant, a chilling aura spread. The warmth drained from the room as if stolen by unseen hands. Grayish-white hues seeped into every corner, and from the floor emerged a pale monstrosity.
It bore a vague resemblance to a human, though its limbs were twisted like warped springs. A vertical, fanged mouth stretched from the crown of its head down to its chest. Bloody saliva clung in strands as the grotesque maw opened and closed.
Yet the handsome man showed no fear, no disgust, not even the faintest ripple of emotion. He simply continued holding the book of myths, as though oblivious.
But he was not blind.
The monster bent low, raising its distorted arms with reverence, and presented an aged notebook along with an envelope.
The man accepted them calmly. A moment later, the creature vanished and the gray pallor receded, restoring the room to its previous warmth.
He set the notebook on the table, tore open the envelope, and unfolded a small stack of letters inside—
"Dear Mr. A,
Please allow me to explain myself regarding the killing of my colleagues.
Hayneson Vincent and Sirius Ariapitus were fools! Fools so laughable that even a curly-haired baboon would mock them!
Hayneson Vincent carelessly wrote secret incantations into his notebook. His apprentice secretly peeked and even dared to perform mirror divination under the very noses of the Nighthawk heretics. You can imagine the outcome—I need not elaborate.
To protect the rest of our lambs in Tingen City, I killed him first. I believe this was the right choice.
Sirius Ariapitus was even more reckless. He openly borrowed library periodicals about the Antigonus family's notebook, despite knowing the Nighthawks were already investigating it. He kept this up for over two months before discovery—it is only by the Lord's grace that he lasted so long!
When the Nighthawks finally tracked him to the library, I killed him as well. It was a necessary decision.
During the battle between the Nighthawks and the Secret Order, I also recovered that Fourth Epoch notebook. According to Hayneson Vincent, it likely contains the Antigonus family's treasure.
I now dedicate this notebook to the Lord, in hopes of atoning for the sin of killing His Secret Supplicants.
Finally, Sirius Ariapitus seems to have taught the ritual of the Lord's descent to an unknown swindler. Should I intervene?
—The Lord's loyal servant, Snow von Panredax."
"Heh…" The handsome man's fingers flexed, and the letter was torn to fragments by a swirl of air. He reached for the notebook, and as his eyes passed over its words, a faintly wicked smile curved across his lips.
Tingen City…
"Captain, is this the last suspect's residence?" Leonard looked out at the hotel window as the carriage rattled to a halt. Lowering his gaze, he pulled a pocket watch from his police uniform and checked the time. "Still early. Looks like it won't delay Klein's induction mission."
"Don't get careless." The middle-aged man beside him frowned. His gray eyes were solemn, and the wrinkles around them deep. Beneath the brim of his hat peeked strands of brown hair.
He held a sheet of notes, speaking in a low but steady voice:
"Snow von Panredax. Native of Backlund. A veterinarian. Half a month ago, he visited the Divination Club to seek fortune-telling from Hayneson Vincent. Since then, he has stayed at this hotel, never going out. According to intelligence from Backlund, before leaving, he was entangled with a gang leader's mistress. Likely fled here to escape retribution."
"Sounds colorful." Leonard gave a light whistle, then glanced toward Klein.
Before Leonard could add more, Klein nodded knowingly. He pulled a slip of paper from his bag, wrote down a line, then unfastened the citrine pendulum from his wrist. Closing his eyes, he chanted silently:
"Investigating Snow von Panredax is dangerous, investigating Snow von Panredax is dangerous, investigating…"
After the seventh repetition, Klein opened his eyes. The citrine pendulum swung counter-clockwise at a slow, steady pace.
He exhaled softly. "Captain, it shows no danger. Still, considering he may possess anti-divination measures, we should remain cautious."
"Hm. Leonard, stay here. Klein, with me." Dunn Smith nodded, pushed the carriage door open, and strode toward the hotel.
On the second floor of the Aromatic Tree Hotel, a young man in a white shirt and black waistcoat dangled a toy before a black Loen Shorthair kitten, no more than a year old. This was Snow von Panredax—the very target of their investigation.
The moment Klein's divination began in the carriage, Snow felt it. But he continued to tease the kitten, adjusting his mood, waiting calmly.
Then—
"…Sleepy?"
As the thought surfaced, Snow stiffened. A firm knock sounded on the door.
"Who is it?"
He set the kitten on his shoulder, stepped to the door, and asked.
From outside came a steady male voice:
"It's me. Dunn Smith."
Snow narrowed his eyes. So it really is him. He opened the door, revealing the gray-eyed officer.
"Officer, what is this about?" Snow asked with faint suspicion.
Dunn wasted no time. He flashed his identification. "You are suspected of involvement in a homicide. We need your cooperation in an investigation."
"Homicide?" Snow looked stunned, then quickly grew agitated. "I haven't left this hotel in half a month! The staff can testify!"
"I know. It's just procedure." Dunn's calm voice carried a reassuring steadiness. He glanced inside. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"…Very well, please." Snow stepped aside with a faint smile. "Though I can't offer proper tea in a hotel."
"It's fine. This won't take long." Dunn took a seat, pulled out a stack of documents, and asked evenly:
"Do you know Hayneson Vincent?"
"Yes. Half a month ago, I asked him for a divination. He told me not to go out for a while, so I've stayed in the hotel ever since." Snow answered smoothly, showing neither hesitation nor guilt.
"Why would you so blindly trust the words of a diviner you met once?" Dunn's gray eyes locked onto Snow's.
Snow sighed, a helpless smile tugging his lips. "If someone could reveal your fate with a single divination, wouldn't you listen—especially if it concerned your life?"
"…Your life?" Dunn's gaze sharpened. Snow immediately realized he had spoken too much. A wry smile touched his face.