"Person"

Mr. Marshall ultimately didn't survive the autumn. Outside his hospital room, withered leaves detached from branches and drifted to the ground as doctors announced his death.

In truth, when he was admitted to the hospital, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that he was already dead. Despite this, the hospital mobilized all its medical resources, gathering top doctors to brainstorm and rack their brains, trying to snatch this life back from the clutches of death.

The Imperial Union Bank had issued a strict order. The only hospital in Brookwood Town was, naturally, funded and built by the Lofik Consortium.

While their efforts ultimately ended in failure, they weren't entirely without reward.

At the very least, Mr. Marshall's neck, twisted at a right angle, was straightened. It was a shame he could only lie flat on the bed; otherwise, any change in posture would cause his head to loll unnaturally, lacking the support of his cervical vertebrae.

Ethan was squeezed out by the medical staff and didn't even get to see Mr. Marshall one last time.

He remained in the hospital corridor until evening, only relaxing when the doctors announced the death.

As Imperial Union Bank staff passed him, they gently patted his shoulder.

"My condolences."

Everyone said that to him.

In their eyes, Ethan was rendered speechless by his extreme grief.

To be so young and yet have to accept the tragic death of a close friend right before his eyes, especially when he was an investigator for the Containment Bureau. They could easily imagine the profound sense of powerlessness he must feel.

Ethan's eyes were indeed filled with sorrow.

The primary reason was that, with nothing else to do in the corridor, he had quietly been studying Ice Magic, and he had been influenced by the emotions of an Elemental Spirit.

Mr. Anonymous, in Fireball Ice Arrow Magic Mechanics, mentioned that ice elements correspond to the lowest human emotions. After today's events, he gained a deeper understanding of the book's descriptions of "people" and gradually came to understand why the author believed Ice Arrow was more suitable for resolving disputes between people.

Compared to fire elements, water and ice are more understated and more covert.

The fact that Mr. Anonymous could write this passage in his sheepskin-bound book meant he must have used Ice Magic to resolve many interpersonal disputes.

However, Ice Arrow wasn't omnipotent. It couldn't sever the countless threads of karma tied to that ledger. Ethan knew that at this very moment, in some corner he was unaware of, another Mr. Roxanne was nervously walking through the doors of the Imperial Union Bank and, amidst the staff's concerned smiles, taking out a large loan.

All he could do was eliminate a specific person present before him.

Dark Creatures and Evil God cultists weren't the only things that could harm people. One must never neglect their cultivation; he had to catch up to Mr. Anonymous's pace as quickly as possible.

Ethan made up his mind.

Of course, in the eyes of the Imperial Union Bank staff and medical personnel, Ethan's determined gaze represented something else entirely. Witnessing his friend's tragic death firsthand, the young Containment Bureau investigator had resolved to dedicate himself even more fervently to his work, vowing to uncover the truth behind his friend's demise.

The good news was that Ethan unexpectedly discovered a more suitable place to practice Ice Arrow.

Under the guidance of his good leader, Ivy, Fireplace Bay finally had a boat that could carry him. Beyond the dock lay the boundless Black Sea, where no one cared about each other's identities, and naturally, no one would stop him from shooting Ice Arrows into the sea.

Practicing Ice Arrow by the Black Sea was a triple win: it was unlikely to accidentally harm anyone, he didn't have to worry about his identity being exposed, and he could even watch the shop on the side.

Meanwhile...

He increasingly wanted to learn Teleportation Magic.

Sneaking out of his apartment under the cover of night every day gave him a guilty conscience. Furthermore, his investigator work had irregular hours. What if Ivy came looking for him in the middle of the night for work and found him not at home? That would be trouble. Although he could use his job at Fireplace Bay as an excuse, it wasn't a long-term solution.

He had only found the most basic introductory magic in the Occultism bookstore. Advanced magic like teleportation, which involved space, naturally couldn't be recorded there.

Moreover, even if someone were selling such high-level magic, he couldn't possibly afford it with his savings of just over 20 gold lions.

Based on his observations of the merchants in Fireplace Bay, bargaining tactics like "I'm an apprentice, sell it to me cheaper" or "20 gold lions, let's be friends" likely wouldn't work.

Ultimately, he still needed to save money. His custom order business also needed to get off the ground soon.

But before that...

Ethan took Miss Chloe out of town.

It seemed no one had been here for quite some time. The dirt slope was particularly desolate. He held a hard bread, and Miss Chloe, wearing a flower crown on her head, walked along a row of gravestones for a long time, finally stopping at the one marked "Roxanne."

Only three words were simply carved on the tombstone, with no epitaph or other information.

Ethan bent down, brushed the dust and dirt off the tombstone, and placed the hard bread on the empty altar. Miss Chloe also lowered her head, bewildered, and placed the flower crown on it.

He gazed at the tombstone for a long time.

"Goodbye, Roxanne."

Back at the apartment, Ivy saw that Ethan looked preoccupied and told him to get some good sleep. She stayed in the apartment to finish drafting the Roxanne case report and send it back to the Containment Bureau in Gear City via falcon.

Ethan had to marvel again at how fortunate he was to have such a good leader. If it were his past life, the order he would have received would be, "Write the case summary quickly and send it to me by 7 o'clock."

He began preparing dinner for Miss Chloe, cooking a pot of tomato and potato soup with some pork belly. Watching Miss Chloe eat with gusto, almost burying her head in the bowl, significantly improved his mood.

He thought about how Mr. Marshall's family was likely preparing his funeral now. His body would be sent back to Gear City and then laid to rest amidst flowers and the eulogies of a pastor.

Although Mr. Marshall, like a dead fat pig, only provided 1 point of Ice Arrow proficiency, he had at least made some contribution, allowing Ethan to gain a deeper understanding of the conversion between ice and water.

Ethan portioned the potato and pork soup into clay pots and knocked on the door of the adjacent apartment.

Ivy looked very tired, the golden hair on her head drooping listlessly. A sleepless night had left her with deep dark circles under her eyes.

"This is the meat soup I made. I used to cook it often for hunters when I was at the Guild. It should taste alright."

"Oh, just put it on the table."

Ethan felt like Ivy was floating as she walked. She seemed to have just sent off the case summary; her quill and stationery were still on the table.

Ivy leaned back in the oak chair, the aroma of the broth filling the room and easing the tension in her nerves. She stared into the soup, her vision blurring until the food appeared doubled.

Just as she was about to close her eyes, a golden head patted her forehead. Ivy jolted, her body instinctively straightening. She looked flustered, like a student caught sleeping in class by the teacher.

"The answer is C."

After this nonsensical statement, an awkward silence fell over the living room.

Ivy didn't explain. She simply picked up the earthenware pot, her face almost buried in it like Miss Chloe's.

"Hmm, it tastes pretty good."

After a moment, she gave her verdict.

"That's good. I was worried it wouldn't suit your taste," Ethan said, since he had used only the cheapest ingredients. "It's getting late. You've had a long day, so you should get some rest too."

"Ethan."

Before he could take a few steps, Ivy suddenly called out to him.

"Hmm?"

"Not all nobles are like that," Ivy said, losing confidence as she spoke, her voice barely audible. "At least... I'm not."