Blue Eyes Beneath Fog Capital Bridge (5)

The arrest warrant was issued, but the man was never arrested.

The Butler Family did not interfere with the investigation; instead, the key figure, Arthur Mills, had died at home one step ahead of them.

The man's corpse lay sprawled on the study floor in a twisted posture, as if he had been trying to grasp something in his final moments. He was wearing a dark brown robe, but the lapels were soaked through with blood, and a dark red stain had spread out beneath him.

"According to the preliminary forensic examination, Mills died approximately one hour after the warrant was issued."

Detective Lestrade crouched down, his gloved fingers gently parting the collar of the deceased's robe.

A horrific wound was revealed on the man's chest, precisely located over the heart. The edges were slightly blanched, clearly indicating it had been pierced instantly by some sort of sharp weapon.

"The fatal wound is in the left chest, a single strike through the heart."

Ye Yan stood at the study door. Noticing the hesitation between the detective's brows, he asked in a low voice, "Is something wrong?"

"It's very strange."

Lestrade stood up and removed his gloves. "There are only his own bloody handprints on the weapon. And..."

His gaze swept across the tidy desk before shifting to the tightly locked window. "There isn't a single trace left by a second person at the scene, not even an extra footprint."

Ye Yan shrugged.

"So, under normal circumstances, this case would be preliminarily ruled a suicide, right?"

If this era possessed fingerprint detection technology, they might have been able to find some clues at the scene. But for now, they could only track the case through the remaining traces.

Lestrade nodded.

"That is indeed the case, but it is impossible for Mills to have committed suicide."

Having said that, he walked to the head of the corpse and crouched down, pointing at the twisted face of the deceased. "Look at his expression."

Arthur Mills's eyes were wide open, his pupils dilated, and his entire face was frozen in extreme terror.

"And look at the spray pattern of the blood on the victim's hands; this is definitely not something you would see in a suicide."

Ye Yan walked slowly toward the body, staring at the stiff fingers of the deceased, and said softly, "Destroying the evidence, leaving no witnesses."

"This only further proves that our investigation is on the right track." Lestrade's voice echoed in the empty study. "The killer is indeed from the Butler Family, and he is clearly panicked."

The two exchanged a knowing look.

"Since the other party used an ability to cover their tracks, it would be reasonable for us to use our abilities as well, wouldn't it?" Ye Yan asked.

Lestrade shook his head and spoke up. "According to Article 12 of the Supernatural Management Act, evidence obtained through the unauthorized use of abilities is inadmissible. We must first determine if this case involves the arcane."

"Therefore, I have already requested an arcane review from the Administration." He lowered his head and glanced at the watch on his wrist. "It's about time; they should be sending someone over shortly."

Just then, an officer walked in.

"Detective Lestrade, the reviewer sent by the Administration has arrived. It's an intermediate investigator."

"An intermediate investigator?"

Lestrade looked up sharply. He subconsciously tugged at his tie, a subtle movement that betrayed his inner surprise.

It was only a minor review; why would the higher-ups send an intermediate investigator?

The same question flashed through Ye Yan's mind.

As footsteps sounded outside the door, the question in his heart was answered.

Because the person who walked in was not a stranger.

Ye Yan looked at the familiar slicked-back hair of the man entering, and his previously relaxed state immediately tightened.

James Smith?

How could this person be here, and to think he was actually an intermediate investigator.

What kind of "low-level" was this?

This guy was definitely lying to me last time.

Smith adjusted his glasses, his gaze landing on Ye Yan, his eyes flashing with shrewd light behind the lenses. "Young man, we meet again."

Lestrade looked at Ye Yan. "You know each other?"

"I suppose you could say that."

Ye Yan answered vaguely; he didn't know how to explain his relationship with Smith to Lestrade.

He admitted that the man had indeed saved his life.

But this person was merely an executor; the one who truly saved him should have been Holmes. Without that phone call, this man wouldn't have cared whether he lived or died.

A calculating fellow.

Ye Yan really didn't want himself, or Detective Lestrade, to have any entanglement with Smith.

Lestrade sensed from Ye Yan's tone that he wasn't very enthusiastic about this intermediate investigator, so he treated Smith with a standard, professional demeanor.

"Now, I shall begin the arcane review of this location. Please, both of you, sign the documents as witnesses."

Smith took a file from his briefcase, the red emblem of the Administration stamped on the paper.

Ye Yan and Lestrade wrote down their names.

Smith accepted it with satisfaction and placed it into a folder. Afterward, he opened the briefcase he had been carrying the entire time.

It was a glass enclosure.

Inside lay a moth that appeared dead, its wings a sickly, unnatural greyish-white.

"Please draw all the curtains in the room and seal the gaps in the door; ensure not a single sliver of light remains in this room."

Ye Yan was somewhat puzzled, but seeing that Lestrade seemed accustomed to this, he followed suit.

The heavy curtains were drawn, and the door gaps were sealed.

The room was instantly plunged into total darkness.

Ye Yan heard the sound of Smith's footsteps; he was pacing slowly across the study at a peculiar frequency.

Accompanied by a faint humming sound, a light suddenly flickered in the darkness. Ye Yan looked closely and discovered that the moth trapped inside the glass enclosure had come to life.

At this moment, its wings were flickering with a dim, murky glow.

The light pulsed on and off, like some eerie signal lamp or the final bloom of a life struggling in its death throes. Each vibration left tiny traces of phosphorus powder on the walls of the enclosure, shimmering with faint specks of light in the dark.

"You may turn the lights back on."

So, was the inspection already over?

Ye Yan turned on the lights, and the sudden influx of brightness made him instinctively squint his eyes.

When he looked at the glass enclosure in Smith's hand, he found that the moth was crashing around as if it had gone mad; even with its wings broken, it continued to batter itself against the glass.

"What is this?" Ye Yan asked.

"Don't worry about this Light-Phosphor Moth. As a consumable item, it will go mad and crash to its death on its own once used."

Seeming to notice Ye Yan's curiosity regarding the Light-Phosphor Moth, Lestrade continued to explain: "The Light-Phosphor Moth is a new species created by the Research Institute by crossbreeding a moth variant brought back from the New Continent with common local moths."

"Its lifespan is only seven days; even if it isn't used as a tool, it would perish on its own very soon."

So it was a species originating from the New Continent.

Ye Yan suddenly understood.

"Now, following the inspection, it has been confirmed that this place has indeed been affected by the mysterious."

Smith locked the glass enclosure back into the briefcase and turned to look at Ye Yan: "You may now use your ability to conduct your verification."