Be Careful with Water

The Gear City branch sent over a long letter.

In it, they highly praised the Brookwood Town Base Station, commending them for completing the assignment exceptionally well.

But the important part was on the second half of the page. The Imperial Capital United Reserve Bank attached great importance to this case and had communicated and negotiated with the General Bureau. They also hinted that a high-ranking member of the Lofik Consortium had attended the meeting. Given the unusual nature of the Cursed Object, which contained important internal bank data, people from the Imperial Union Bank would handle the matter from here on out.

Put simply, people from the Lofik Consortium wanted to protect Marshall. The case was closed, and pursuing it any further would make things awkward for everyone.

Marshall made a point of emphasizing to the two of them, "The ledger's already been handed over. It should be long gone from Brookwood Town by now."

Even if the two Containment Bureau investigators made a scene here, or tried to throw the Bureau's weight around, it wouldn't do them any good.

Ivy understood.

Marshall had reported the ledger to the General Bureau as soon as he got it. The fact that even a high-ranking member of the Lofik Consortium had gotten involved could only mean one thing: Roxanne wasn't an isolated case. They had already established a complete industry chain in the Empire's border towns. In a sense, the townspeople were no different from the ore.

They mined the ore, picked out the valuable pieces, then used a complete set of methods to saddle their families with enormous debts. Perhaps even the mentors assigned to those children had been handpicked by the Consortium.

The ledger was the key to uncovering the truth.

Ivy had no way of knowing why it had been cursed.

Had Roxanne cursed it in his pain and despair, or had he hoped someone would find it in the final moments of his life?

But no matter what, it had already slipped away right before her eyes.

The appearance of a high-ranking Consortium member meant this matter was bound to end here. Her family could tolerate her fleeing the Imperial Capital and coming to a remote city like Brookwood Town. They could put up with her doggedly sending letters to the royal family and the Academy, proclaiming that the Winter Witch was still alive. But they would never allow her to make an enemy of the Lofik Consortium over an unrelated townsman.

But...

Ivy looked at Ethan, standing silently in the doorway.

Roxanne had been his friend, and a good man. It was easy to foresee that many more victims like him would appear in the future.

As Ethan's superior, she felt she ought to do something.

Her mind raced. The golden hair on her head swung back and forth anxiously, seemingly on the verge of overheating and smoking.

"Madam Rose, since Mr. Marshall put it that way, our work is more or less finished, isn't it?"

Ethan suddenly spoke up behind her. "The branch is very pleased with our work, too."

At that, a victor's smile appeared on Marshall's face, and he grew even more self-important. "It's not wise to keep digging into things these days. Some things are over, so let them stay that way."

He stood up, took a wineglass from the liquor cabinet, and poured himself a glass of red wine in front of them.

What a day worth celebrating.

His laughing fits had been cured, and the ledger had been taken care of properly. When all was said and done, this assignment had never had anything to do with the Cursed Object. He had simply hired a few people to treat his symptoms.

And that apartment—once he'd greased a few palms, he could sell it to someone else.

"You should learn from him."

Holding his wineglass, Marshall intended to personally see them off as far as the stairs.

As the victor.

"Young man, I like you. If you ever abuse suppressants and someone reports you, leaving you with an astronomical compensation bill, just come to me. I'll tailor a loan plan just for you."

Ethan smiled at him. "Same goes for you."

"I've never abused suppressants!"

Marshall's hand shook, and the red wine in his glass spilled onto the floor.

As expected, this young man was even more irritating than Ivy. Fortunately, he wouldn't have to deal with lowlifes like them anymore.

He savored the wine as he watched them disappear down the stairs. That was right. While the winner savored the taste of victory, the loser ought to scurry off with his tail between his legs.

Ethan headed downstairs, hearing the contemptuous laughter behind him.

In truth, he'd never been very interested in the ledger Roxanne had left behind, and had never planned to follow the clues and investigate further. Whether this was Marshall's idea or he was simply a puppet put on display by the Lofik Consortium, Ethan had no interest in it either way.

Ethan was more focused on what was right in front of him, and he'd known what he wanted to do from the start.

For instance, he'd noticed Marshall's hand shaking just now, spilling some red wine onto the floor. He'd also noticed the recent drop in temperature, a sign that winter was coming. In weather like this, liquids could very well develop a thin layer of ice on the surface.

Given Marshall's corpulent frame, if he accidentally lost his footing and tumbled down the stairs, he'd probably be seriously injured, or even die on the spot.

He stepped down onto the last stair.

Then came a bank employee's gasp from above. They all looked toward the sound, only to see Marshall's corpulent body flung into the air. The victor's wineglass shattered on the floor, and the red wine bloomed across it like a blood-red lotus.

Amid the gasps, Marshall tumbled all the way down. The smile on his face turned to terror, and his left hand stretched forward as he fell, as if desperately trying to grab hold of something.

Then came the sound of bones snapping.

Ethan saw Marshall's broken neck. The Great Banker lay twisted at the edge of the stairs, his face bent at a right angle toward them.

Water really was the most dangerous substance in the world.

Ethan met Marshall's gaze until the last glimmer of light faded from the other man's eyes. In his final moments, Marshall opened his mouth, seeming as if he wanted to say something.

Was he trying to call for help?

Or had he not been ready to leave yet?

None of that mattered. Marshall had completely lost the ability to speak. He couldn't even make a sound.

Even Ivy was stunned into stillness by the intensely shocking scene, a rare look of astonishment on her face.

It was as if everyone working at the Imperial Union Bank had been frozen in place. They had all seen Marshall's broken neck. There was no saving him.

But no matter how hard they racked their brains, they couldn't imagine how the bank president could have fallen to his death in such a bizarre way.

Could it be...

that this was a curse, too?

But to Ethan, this outcome wasn't surprising. When a string of little coincidences came together, they led to an inevitable conclusion.

Mr. Marshall, the Great Banker, had accidentally stepped on the red wine on the floor, slipped, tumbled down the stairs, and lost his life.

A tragic accident.

The employees of the Imperial Union Bank had all witnessed it.

And Ethan was the first to rush over and try to help.

The wails from downstairs snapped everyone back to reality. They saw the young Containment Bureau investigator sprinting toward Marshall.

"Old Mar! Oh, Old Mar—!"

The heart-wrenching cries echoed through the Imperial Union Bank's lobby for a long time. On this day of misfortune, they witnessed the most heartfelt friendship.

The young Containment Bureau investigator seemed to have become the saddest person in the world.

The bank employees who rushed over to help were all deeply moved.

The relationship between this Containment Bureau investigator and the bank president must have been very close.