Laughing Sickness

"Miss Chloe is a Wolf Chicken, but she looks more like a chicken, so I think the 'Chicken Farmer' title is perfect for you."

Ivy analyzed seriously. The golden hair on her head split into three strands again. She crossed her arms and nodded constantly, clearly agreeing with her own words.

But this hastily decided codename and the sloppy introduction, no matter how he looked at it, felt like something for cannon fodder. Ethan imagined that when he went to the main bureau in the future, his colleagues' codenames would all be cooler than the next, and when his colleagues looked at him, his answer would be, "I'm the Chicken Farmer."

Just thinking about it made his scalp tingle.

"Can this codename be changed?"

"Yes, you can apply to the main bureau when you get promoted or change positions. The approval process takes about a week to half a month."

Ivy's explanation finally made Ethan feel a little better, but at the same time, the familiar feeling returned.

Late at night, the Leader suddenly spoke, requiring overtime.

He hadn't expected the Containment Bureau's workload to be so tight. They had urgently assigned them work on the same day their ID cards arrived. Fortunately, it sounded like the work location was within the town, and there didn't seem to be any danger.

Ethan packed his tool bag, changed into his work clothes, and brought his "Exorcism Agent" and "Blocker." Of course, he couldn't forget the detector. This was, after all, the first anomalous case he had handled, holding significant meaning in his career. He was still full of anticipation; this would become a topic he could brag about to his grandchildren while lying in a rocking chair in his retirement.

The food was hard bread. From Ethan's observation, this thing was no different from instant noodles in this era. It was easy to preserve and effective at filling you up, with no real drawbacks except being dry and unpalatable.

Marshall's mansion was very close to them. Like the wealthy Ivy, a big banker like him naturally lived in the most prosperous district of Brookwood Town.

As Ethan entered, gnawing on hard bread, he was presented with a lavish candlelight dinner.

A candle was placed on the dining table in the living room. A whole roasted turkey sat on the table, its aroma wafting through the air. He couldn't help but glance at the table. The main dish was a cinnamon pie, accompanied by a fruit and vegetable salad.

He took a fierce bite of the hard bread.

He employed the tactic of "looking at plums to quench thirst," hypnotizing himself that what he was eating was actually a turkey leg. At least in terms of hardness, it was almost comparable to a chicken leg bone.

Marshall wasn't there. He seemed to have little appetite, only taking a bite of the cinnamon pie, tearing off a small piece of meat from the turkey's thigh, and then wasting this entire sumptuous candlelight dinner.

Ethan suddenly thought of something and quickly turned to Miss Chloe, who had followed them inside.

The turkey's size was somewhat similar to hers, and they belonged to the same family. The scene on the table was probably no different from a horror movie for her.

"Don't look at the table, Miss Chloe..."

Hearing Ethan call her, Miss Chloe, who had been staring blankly at the table, snapped back to attention. She craned her neck, made a slurping sound as she swallowed a drop of saliva that was about to fall, and then nervously straightened her posture, trying her best to maintain her ladylike demeanor.

Miss Chloe wanted to eat meat.

"You are investigators from the Containment Bureau, right? My master's condition has been very bad these past two days."

They were greeted by a worried-looking maid, who spoke urgently, "Master hasn't eaten properly for two days, nor has he gone to work at the bank. He's become very strange."

"Can you elaborate?"

Ethan took out a notebook and quickly got into work mode.

"Master, uh... he suddenly started laughing a lot, and his laughter was very frightening, so he locked himself in his room and hasn't come out."

"When did it start?"

On the first page of his notebook, under Marshall's name, Ethan wrote down the description "likes to laugh." For this to alarm the Gear City Containment Bureau and have them work overtime all night, it definitely wasn't just a matter of "liking to laugh."

Marshall was backed by the Lofik Consortium and handled all the banking business in Brookwood Town. If he couldn't work, it would inevitably have a significant impact on the bank.

"It started yesterday morning. Master went to collect a property and became like this after he returned."

It was suspected that he was influenced by a Cursed Object while collecting the property. The Blocker should be effective.

A professional Containment Bureau investigator must dare to make a judgment!

In fact, there was no need for in-depth investigation. The fact that the Gear City branch assigned this case to them indicated that it was highly likely related to a Cursed Object.

Ivy was about to speak, but seeing Ethan get into character so quickly, she revealed a subtle smile. This was the assistant she envisioned – every great detective needed one like this.

Having completed his notes and analysis, Ethan asked, "Can you take us to see him?"

He took out his detector and kept it turned on.

The needle was in the blue range, meaning Marshall hadn't accidentally brought a Cursed Object home.

"This way, please."

The maid quickly led the two people and one chicken, guiding them to the bedroom door. The door was shut tight, and not a sound could be heard from inside. She knocked on the door, "Master, the Containment Bureau investigators are here."

"Come in."

Hearing Marshall's voice from inside, Ethan breathed a sigh of relief. The banker was alive; it wasn't a situation where they arrived to find only a cold corpse in the room.

Marshall, dressed in formal attire, sat in the bedroom, trying to maintain his dignity. However, his pale complexion and disheveled hair clearly showed that he had had a rough couple of days. As they entered, he sat blankly at the desk, holding a sheepskin book, not even realizing he was holding it upside down.

Receiving a nod from Marshall, the maid bowed to everyone and exited the room.

"Mr. Marshall, I am a Containment Bureau investigator, Chicken—"

"Hahahaha—!"

I haven't even finished, damn it!

Ethan's self-introduction was drowned out by a burst of intense laughter. He felt that Mr. Marshall was incredibly rude. He should have at least waited until he said the words "Chicken Farmer" before laughing.

"I'm sorry, I just can't help it, hahaha—!"

A very bizarre scene unfolded in the bedroom. Marshall's face was pale, filled with guilt and pain, his features contorted, yet he was laughing uncontrollably, bent over in half, his hands repeatedly slapping the table.

After laughing for a while, his hand trembled as he gripped the pen and wrote "Help me" on the title page of the upside-down book.

"Don't panic, we're professionals."

Although he had more work experience, the calm Ethan knew what he had to do. This wasn't really any trouble at all. He took out a glass jar filled with a black liquid from his tool kit; the liquid was bubbling with ominous bubbles.

"This is the Relaxation Spirit Blocker 2.0, it can effectively dispel the effects of most Cursed Objects."

Ethan unscrewed the cap in front of Marshall, and a strong fishy smell immediately filled the entire room.

Marshall's pupils contracted. He stumbled back several meters with his stool. Even though he was still laughing uncontrollably, he said with all his might, "I won't drink it, I'd rather die!"

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