Who Are You Calling the Mole?

You Must Be the Traitor

"Is everything really alright?"

Luther looked around. Inside the grand hall, clergymen walked in pairs, believers prayed with closed eyes, and atop the altar, candles surrounded the goddess's emblem, lending an air of sacred serenity.

Everything was peaceful and quiet.

"Apart from the investigation you are in charge of, everything today is completely normal."

That priest answered earnestly.

Luther fell silent for a moment, then walked past the other person, quickly heading toward the corridor behind the prayer hall and deeper into the church. After a rapid inspection, he discovered that the above-ground portion of Saint Samuel Cathedral—the part directed at the secular world—held no abnormalities whatsoever.

Thus he immediately changed direction, entering the underground via the spiraling staircase.

"Your Excellency Ishmael."

The Nighthawks on duty were either in the lounge or at their rotating posts; upon seeing him, they greeted him one after another, respect tinged in their tones.

Everything looked normal here, too.

"Have the out-of-town members returned?"

Luther asked aloud.

"Not yet... Your Excellency Ishmael, did you not act together with them?"

A Sleepless answered with puzzlement.

Was it normal for them not to return... It seemed normal enough, because the higher-ups were pushing hard for the case to be closed as soon as possible, and Luther had arranged quite a bit of work. After all, his subordinates were basically all Sleepless, so it would be a shame not to make them stay up late to work.

There was no problem here either; could it be that Hermes's words actually didn't hold much deep meaning?

Yet Luther's brows gradually furrowed, and the unease in his heart grew wildly like weeds. He suddenly recalled the most important place in the entire Saint Samuel Cathedral: Chanis Gate.

The corridor was filled with heavy darkness,