Blue Eyes Under Fog Capital Bridge (6)

Inside the evidence bag lay a blood-stained letter opener.

Logically, a murderer should have taken their weapon with them; however, this letter opener had been left on the corpse of Mills, as if it were a trap deliberately set behind.

Ye Yan donned a pair of gloves and removed the letter opener from the bag.

He estimated that whoever left traces on this murder weapon was most likely a scapegoat.

In this way, the true culprit could disrupt the police's investigation targets to buy time, or use it as perjured evidence at an opportune moment to clear themselves of suspicion.

Unfortunately, the murderer had miscalculated.

The one assisting with the investigation here was not a Light Servant skilled at uncovering hidden clues, but Ye Yan, a Tracker who could trace the source directly through the residual power on the blade.

[Recordable coordinates discovered. Store them?]

Ye Yan silently thought "Yes" in his mind.

A faint ripple flowed from the letter opener into his fingertips, and the needle of the Luck Compass began to tremble violently, eventually locking onto a specific direction.

"Detective Lestrade, I need a map!"

Hearing this, Lestrade, who was standing to the side, immediately pulled out a detailed map of the entire London area and handed it over.

Ye Yan's fingers swept rapidly across the map.

Finally, his index finger pressed a faint crease into the paper, bearing down heavily on a winding street near the Whitechapel District.

"Black Raven Alley?" Detective Lestrade frowned. "The public order there is abysmal; it is hardly a pleasant place."

"Chaotic places are suitable for hiding." Ye Yan put away the map and asked, "Detective Lestrade, shall we depart immediately, or should we play it safe and gather men to surround the area?"

Before Lestrade could answer, an unexpected voice interjected into their conversation.

"Do you require my assistance?"

Smith had appeared behind Ye Yan and Lestrade at some point, looking at the two of them with a smile.

"Although the Butler Family's influence in politics is not what it once was, the current head still holds the title of Marquess and maintains a close relationship with the Royal Family."

As he spoke, he gestured toward the credentials he was carrying.

"With me, a mid-level investigator from the Administration, you can save yourselves some unnecessary trouble."

Ye Yan furrowed his brows slightly, his eyes carrying a hint of vigilance.

"This case seems to have nothing to do with you."

Smith spread his hands, revealing an innocent expression. "Does helping a friend require a reason?"

A friend?

Ye Yan could sense that Smith was deliberately currying favor, but this abrupt shift only made him more guarded.

Was it because of the previous operation?

Or was it because of Mycroft?

Various possibilities flashed through Ye Yan's mind.

If the other party thought he had a good relationship with Mycroft and was trying to get on the good side of his superior's friend, then he could only say that the man's calculations were off.

He didn't even know if he could count Holmes as a friend, and his relationship with Mycroft was even more superficial.

The favor of saving his younger brother had already been repaid by the other party last time.

Just then, Smith suddenly took a somewhat worn Diary from the briefcase he was carrying.

"I almost forgot an important matter." Smith handed the Diary to Ye Yan. "This is something your brother Joseph entrusted me to pass on to you. Now, at least, the task is complete."

Taking Joseph's Diary, Ye Yan realized in an instant that the person who had indirectly helped him before was none other than Smith.

Traveling all the way to France and even tracking down Joseph's exact address—the other party had gone to such lengths that Ye Yan couldn't help but wonder if there was something about himself worth the other party's scheming.

Lestrade, standing to the side, raised an eyebrow at the sight.

Someone who could be trusted by one's own kin was, by any measure, a friend, right?

Thinking this, he couldn't help but look at Ye Yan with an inquiring gaze that seemed to ask, "Is this really not your friend?"

Ye Yan felt a wave of awkwardness.

He was truly ill-equipped to handle such a situation; he still harbored reservations about Smith, yet the man met him with a smiling face and even offered goodwill in a way he could not refuse.

"Thank you."

In the end, he only offered a dry word of thanks.

There was no point in dwelling on it further.

Regardless of whether the other party was offering a sugar-coated shell, he only needed to adhere to the principle of accepting all the sweetness while returning the shell in full.

That way, there would be no major issues.

Black Raven Alley was even more dilapidated than imagined.

The narrow alleyway was flanked by cramped, low-slung brick houses, the air thick with the stench of cheap tobacco and rotting food, while rats darted past every so often.

The needle of the Compass trembled slightly before finally pointing toward a brick house covered by tattered rags.

Ye Yan raised his hand to signal.

Lestrade and Smith immediately drew their pistols and approached silently, moving through the blind spots of the house's layout.

Smith made a "wait" gesture.

According to the plan they had discussed, once they reached the target location, he would be the one to scout out the enemy's hidden position first.

A soft "hiss" sounded.

It was like the sound of dry leather being slowly torn apart.

A grayish-brown moth fluttered out from his sleeve, circling a few times in the dim, yellow light; its scales reflected a faint glow before it finally vanished into the darkness.

This was the first time Ye Yan had witnessed Smith use his ability with his own eyes.

When they first met, he had only seen a moth approaching him, but at the time, there was no way to know the true nature of the other man's power. Observing it now, it seemed his ability was to summon a moth for reconnaissance.

A few minutes later, the moth returned.

Smith exchanged a look with Ye Yan and Lestrade, and the two understood immediately: it meant there was only one target inside, and they could proceed with the strike.

Following the Guidance of the Compass, the three of them stopped in front of a door on the top floor. Ye Yan tilted his head to listen, faintly hearing the sound of paper rustling inside.

The three of them drew their pistols at once.

"Bang!"

The door was kicked open with a violent thud, revealing a pitch-black room.

A dark shadow instantly leaped up from the desk, smashing through the window in an attempt to escape.

"Freeze!"

Lestrade rushed forward, and Smith, following closely behind, fired a shot that struck the man in the thigh.

"Damn it!" The man struggled, his face twisted in a snarl, but Lestrade had already pinned his wrist with a boot, pressing the muzzle of his gun against the man's temple.

"Don't move, sir," Lestrade warned coldly, quickly slapping handcuffs on him.

The man finally stopped resisting, his fearful gaze sweeping over the three of them. When he caught sight of Lestrade's face, his expression shifted abruptly: "You... you are..."

Ye Yan ignored his strange reaction and instead scanned the room. It was cramped and exceptionally cluttered, with the desk piled high with all sorts of newspapers and clippings.

"What is this?"

His gaze suddenly fixed on an old bookcase.

His intuition told him something was wrong there.

Ye Yan walked over quickly and carefully felt along the edge of the bookcase. With a soft "click," the bookcase slowly shifted aside, revealing a dark, small room.

"You can't look in there, damn you!"

The subdued man shouted and began to struggle again.

"Stay still!"

Lestrade pressed down hard on the man's shoulders, while Ye Yan clicked on his flashlight and stepped inside cautiously.

The moment the beam of light hit the interior, his breath hitched. The walls of the secret room were plastered with photos and documents, all centered on a single subject: a little girl with Blue Eyes.