An Unexpected Discovery

The woman's flippant tone and gaudy clothes instinctively repelled Sandella, but in front of the lord, she held back her impatience and reached out to shake her hand. The woman's hand was so thin Sandella could almost feel every bone, and her body temperature was frighteningly cold.

This wasn't the first time she'd dealt with priests of the Divine Mechanism Cult.

But she'd never met a priest like this one.

"Though Miss Govi is young, she's a Master-level cleric," Li Qiongao said with a smile. "More importantly, she has a talent for wielding secret-art artifacts, which will surely make her a great help in dealing with the Cultists. She hasn't been here long since arriving from the Old Continent, and she isn't very familiar with Glorious Fortress yet. Do look after her."

Though she was a hundred times less than pleased, the lord had put it that way, and refusing now would be downright tactless. Sandella could only agree. "I'll do my best."

Back at Farview Tower, Sandella closed the office door and looked sternly at the Divine Mechanism Cult priestess, who was surveying her workspace with interest. "Let's get one thing straight. The City Guard is in charge of this case. You must act under my direction. Understood?"

"I thought we were partners, not in a superior-subordinate relationship?" Govi took the cross from her back. When it hit the floor, the wooden boards groaned, clearly under the weight of the thing. "If you're worried I'll steal the City Guard's credit, you needn't be. I have only one goal: eliminating the Cultists."

"Everything requires organization and discipline. They're the fundamental guarantee that we can bring our full strength to bear!"

Govi couldn't help laughing.

"What are you laughing at?" Sandella asked coldly.

"Nothing... I was just wondering, Commander, have you ever fought Cultists?"

"I graduated from Capital Military Academy and went to war with the army—"

"So you've never faced Cultists firsthand." Govi cut her off. "Sorry. Maybe you excelled in your studies and have impressive command skills, but frankly, none of that means much in the face of real Cultists. When confronted with unimaginable terror, people break far sooner than they expect. Your so-called organization and discipline are barely more resilient than a sheet of toilet paper."

Sandella's gaze was sharp, but Govi didn't seem to care. A faint smile still played on her face, as if she hadn't realized she was insulting the entire City Guard.

If she hadn't been someone the Count had recommended, Sandella would have thrown her out of the office already.

"...Since the priestess sounds so certain, you must have plenty of experience dealing with Cultists. Tell me, then: what does it take to fight them?"

"Madness."

"What?" Sandella wondered if she'd heard right.

The woman giggled. "Madness! You have to be crazier than they are to keep fear from dragging you under and hold on to that sliver of willpower! Of course, if you really do go mad, there's nothing to be done... Hahahaha..."

By the end, she was laughing without a care in the world.

How could someone like this be a priestess?

Sandella stared at her in disbelief. Was something wrong within the Divine Mechanism Cult?

"Commander, this is..." Woody entered the office with a stack of files in his arms. He froze when he saw Govi.

"She's a priestess of the Divine Mechanism Cult, here to help us investigate the case." Sandella coughed twice. "All right. I'll take your experience into consideration. Go wait downstairs for now. If you want more details about the case, I can have my men bring you the files..."

"No need. Just find out who the Cultists are or where they're hiding, then tell me." Govi slung the cross over her back again and strode out of the room.

"She's a priestess?" Woody looked astonished.

"The Count introduced her. Do you think he'd be wrong?" Sandella said sourly as she returned to her desk. "Tell me about your findings."

"Yes. I've looked into everyone who was illegally imprisoned at Wangshui Manor. Most of them were Enslaved Laborers." Woody hurriedly spread the files across the desk. "Their backgrounds are all quite unremarkable. Director Kuiqi... I mean, the killer, Kuiqi, probably chose them because they were easy to abduct."

Sea Guard people, Enslaved Laborers... Both were at the very bottom of Glorious Fortress's social ladder. No one would care if they died in a gutter.

It wasn't that Glorious Fortress openly encouraged slavery; it was just that the ban wasn't as absolute as it was in the Old Continent. After all, expansion required a huge labor force, and not everyone wanted to come to such a relatively desolate and dangerous place. The people in charge turned a blind eye to what the companies were doing.

There were even wealthy Sea Guard people in Glorious Fortress, after all.

But Sandella knew these things couldn't be discussed openly. She simply hadn't expected the head of North City Police Station to be depraved enough to stage a bloodbath right in the city.

"Do these Enslaved Laborers have anything in common besides their status?"

Woody didn't understand. "They're all Enslaved Laborers. Isn't that enough of a commonality?"

Sandella sighed. She didn't like the Divine Mechanism Cult priestess, but she had felt a sharp, aggressive edge in her—a confidence forged through countless trials, and the very foundation of the initiative people like her took. She rarely saw that kind of edge in her own subordinates.

They were certainly loyal, but they were always just a little short on ability.

"Take a good look. These people aren't elderly, weak, or disabled. They're between fifteen and thirty, able-bodied, and exactly the kind of laborers factories need most. If all Kuiqi wanted was to indulge his criminal urges, he had no need to drag these people into a black prison."

Woody came to a realization. "You're right..."

"You and I both know Cultists don't show up without a reason. They're like flies; they only swarm around a cracked egg." Sandella gathered the files on the Sea Guard people into one pile. "We can't rule out the possibility that these Enslaved Laborers drew the Cultists here. They should all be at the Medical Camp now, right?"

"Yes. I've assigned people to keep a close watch on them."

"Good. Go question them later, one at a time, keeping them apart." She paused, then added, "Don't use interrogation tactics. Don't forget, they're the victims in this case."

Woody agreed, and Sandella turned her attention to the remaining files. There were fewer of them, and most belonged to mercenaries, detectives, and reporters. Each person's name had a bright red mark beneath it: "Deceased."

"Their information was found in Kuiqi's bedroom, so there may be others we missed," Woody explained. "We compared them with the previous serial murder cases, and we can be almost certain they were all among the intended victims. But because the theater caught fire this time, many of the bodies were burned beyond recognition, so we can't determine which group of dead they belonged to. Also..."

He hesitated.

"Go on."

"The families of the North City Police Station officers have been making a lot of trouble these past few days. They refuse to believe their loved ones could have done something so heinous, and insist someone must be held responsible for their deaths," Woody said quietly. "If we insist on classifying these officers as Kuiqi's accomplices, we'll face considerable public pressure."

That pressure would clearly make it harder for the City Guard to take over the police station's duties.

Sandella was silent for a while. "I understand. I'll be careful with the wording when we write the final report."

Woody let out a sigh of relief.

For some reason, she felt another weight settle on her heart.

In the silent room, Sandella suddenly noticed a name half-hidden among the many sheets of paper: Cote Dane.

She felt as though she'd heard that name somewhere before...

Sandella pulled out his file and thought for a moment. Soon, she found the memory connected to it.

That's right... Three weeks ago, someone had stopped her in the street and loudly begged her for help. She'd thought he was just desperately grasping at straws, so she hadn't paid him any attention.

The name he'd shouted was Cote Dane.