Birdsong and Fragrant Flowers

When Iver slowly woke up again, he found himself lying on the bed in a hotel room.

He subconsciously sensed that something was wrong, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Fox, come quick!"

Just then, a bright and clear child's voice came from the side. "This place is so beautiful!"

... Such a strong intuition. She hadn't even said a word; she just opened her eyes and sensed that someone else had taken over.

Is this the intuitive feeling of those who are suited to the Path of Beauty?

Iver looked in the direction of the sound and found Daya leaning against the inward-opening window, staring intently outside.

Only then did Iver realize why he had felt something was off earlier—

"... The rain has stopped."

He murmured to himself.

It wasn't dark outside; it was already morning. The storm from last night had subsided, but a light drizzle was still falling.

Only then did Iver realize how beautiful the outside world was—

The sky was so high and bright. Not far from the window, one could see a dense forest and a sapphire-blue lake.

The inn appears to be located halfway up the mountain. Looking to the other side, one can vaguely see the village at the foot of the mountain.

The storm seemed to have done nothing to damage the forests; they remained intact. The scent of the storm still lingered in the air, and the whole world was clear and damp.

Iver immediately understood why Isabel was watching so intently.

She actually really liked the natural environment. But because of her status, Isabel couldn't easily leave Glass Island.

Isabel already knew that Mubay County was a famous tourist destination... after all, many knights from Glass Island would go to Mubay County to fish or hunt during holidays or hunting seasons. But she could only look on with envy.

Thinking of this, Iver patted Daya's head and casually said, "Speaking of which, after the Final Exam are over, I plan to come to Mubay County with the detective."

"If you want to come... how about I tell your grandma?"

"Real?"

Upon hearing this, Isabel's eyes lit up. "Would she agree?"

"Maybe. I'm not sure."

To avoid giving Isabel too much hope, Iver could only give a vague answer.

Isabel thought for a moment, then quickly calmed down. "Never mind, I won't go."

"Aren't you going to try?"

"Neither of you are the type to be playful. Your sudden departure probably means you have something important to do. If I go with you, it might cause you trouble... After all, you'd have to take care of me, wouldn't you?"

"Daya" turned around, looking up at Iver with her bright eyes. "So I'll keep it. A rare vacation is a good opportunity to improve myself."

"I plan to have my teacher give me special training—if I succeed in this advancement, I'll reach the Third Level. Then, when I encounter problems again... I won't feel so helpless."

She whispered, "That's all I can do for you... Mr. Fox."

"It's not appropriate to call Mr. Fox now."

Iver crouched down, bringing his eyes level with Isabel's.

He squinted, a slight smile playing on his lips, and reached out to stroke Daya's hair and earlobe, whispering with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Call me Daddy. It's part of the act."

Daya's face immediately turned red.

She hesitated for a moment, glanced around instinctively, and then said in a very soft voice, "Dad, Dad..."

Ah, I'm satisfied.

Iver let out a pleasant sigh, "I've been looking forward to this line ever since I realized you might be playing Daya. It's an essential collectible that you can't miss."

"Is it really necessary...?"

Daya puffed out her cheeks. "If you want to hear that so badly, it's not impossible to hear it outside..."

"Never mind, I'm afraid of getting beaten up."

Iver smiled and declined.

"By the way," Daya said softly, "Have we returned to reality? The rain outside has stopped."

"... It's hard to say."

Iver squinted and casually patted Daya's head.

He felt the texture was so smooth, and the more he touched it, the more comfortable it became. "Let's exchange information first. They should be down soon, let's go out and take a look."

As soon as he stepped out, he saw the Old Inspector coming out from next door.

Pure White looked at Iver and nodded slightly. Then, without saying a word, she followed the two of them over.

Immediately afterwards, the couple's door opened. Everyone except the Dancer came out and followed them downstairs.

After exchanging glances, everyone smiled at each other, creating an atmosphere that was both friendly and mysterious. Daya instinctively grabbed Iver's sleeve; Iver hesitated for a moment, then grabbed her hand in return.

When everyone went to the hall, they saw that the reporters were still waiting near the hall.

But unlike before, when the reporter saw the crowd approaching, he subconsciously showed a wary and anxious expression.

"What happened?"

Pure White asked with great authority, "What's going on with him?"

—The receptionist was shot dead on the table, just like on every other floor above.

The only difference was that this time the reporter's gun wasn't in his hand; it was left inside the front desk.

"I know nothing—that's what I was going to say, but I'm afraid you won't believe me."

The reporter shrugged helplessly and sighed, "Because that gun was indeed mine. But he really did commit suicide!"

"He suddenly went berserk, saying 'This is a dream,' grabbed my gun, and then shot himself!"

The reporter seemed to genuinely know nothing.

To protect the scene, he stayed there and didn't go anywhere else. Because if he left or took the gun, things would really get complicated.

"... You really are an honest person."

Iver said in a tone of disappointment, "Aren't you afraid of being wronged if you stay here?"

"I hope you can come with me."

Pure White also said seriously, "The Inspectorate's memory detection will tell us whether what you said is true."

"Wait, no... this won't work!"

The reporter's expression became somewhat flustered. "If someone's memory is really wiped, they'll be dead! No, I've already secured the scene here, doesn't that prove my innocence? If I just take the gun away, you still won't be able to find the murderer, will you?"

"But we can't rule out one possibility," Chunbai said seriously, "That is, you're deliberately thinking in reverse to dispel suspicion about yourself."

"No need to act anymore, Merlin?"

Jacaranda sighed somewhat uninterestedly, "Or do you mean you're coming again?"

"... What Merlin?"

The reporter frowned, clearly resistant. "In short, I won't cooperate with the investigation. Fine, I'll tell you everything, because I am—"

But at that moment, Iver suddenly struck, shooting him in the head. The reporter, shot in the forehead, fell to the ground, his eyes wide open, dead.

"—He is indeed not Merlin."

Iver coughed lightly and said slowly, "Let me explain."

It's a little late, so I'll post one chapter first.

This is the third update today, with at least seven or eight thousand words. I'll finish writing it right away!