The night was as dark as ink.
Ye Yan stood before the iron gates of Butler Manor.
A cluster of roses crowded the flowerbed directly in front of the gate, mist drifting slowly among them.
The unopened red buds on their dark green stems looked all the more striking, like beads of blood seeping from cuts made by thorns in the moonlight, slowly dripping through the gauzy fog.
Smith was indeed skilled at interrogation.
Ye Yan had clearly heard screams from outside, but when it was over, apart from the lingering, shaken fear on Baron's face, there wasn't a single obvious injury on him.
And from Baron, they had also learned who was truly responsible.
The three of them marched forward, escorting Baron.
The servants didn't dare stop them while they carried an arrest warrant, but a shameless old man was proving a nuisance.
"Stop!"
The Old Marquis Butler stood at the top of the stairs on the second floor, leaning on a silver-headed cane.
The old marquis blocked their way in the hall.
Detective Lestrade stood beside Ye Yan, his gaze sharp and stern. "Your son, Cyril Butler, is connected to several cases involving missing girls. We have witnesses and have recorded their statements. As law enforcement officers, we have the authority to—"
"The authority to do what?" The old marquis stood on the stairs, looking down at them. "Trespass on private grounds? Slander a noble family? My lawyer is already on the way."
"Marquis Butler, there's no point denying it. Baron has already identified Cyril Butler as the culprit."
Lestrade gestured toward the parchment in his hand. "This is an arrest warrant."
"An arrest warrant?"
The old marquis glanced at its contents, his thin fingers gripping his cane tightly. "Baron, some lowlife from who knows where, shamelessly claims to be of Butler blood and slanders my son!"
He glared at the pale-faced Baron, his voice trembling with anger. "I'll sue you for slander, you degenerate!"
Ye Yan glanced at Smith, who stood beside him.
Smith stepped forward and pulled out a document bearing a special seal. "I'm James Smith, a senior investigator with the Supernatural Administration Bureau. Our investigation has found that Cyril Butler had secret dealings with cultists from the Sunset Church and is suspected of using underage girls in human sacrifices."
The document was genuine.
But it had expired; Smith had kept it after his last field assignment.
So he had only flashed the fake document at the old marquis before quickly putting it away. Then he showed his credentials. "We're taking him into custody. You have no right to interfere."
The old marquis's impassive expression finally changed. "Absurd! The Administration must have made some mistake!"
"We need to go in and verify the facts." Ye Yan met the old marquis's eyes. "If you keep obstructing us, we'll arrest you as well for interfering with a special investigation."
The old marquis's expression shifted unpredictably.
Just then, a servant hurried over.
"My lord, a group of police officers has arrived outside. They say they're here to arrest Young Master Cyril."
At the servant's report, a crack appeared in the old marquis's masklike expression, and his face darkened frighteningly.
In the end, he chose to give way.
"The butler will accompany you to find Cyril."
His cane struck the floor with a heavy thud. He shot Ye Yan and the other two a cold look.
"Young people always have to pay for their impulsiveness. As someone who's been there, I don't mind teaching you a lesson.
"I'll appeal to the Unicorn Court and make you understand the consequences of offending the Butler Family. You'll ruin your bright futures, and spend the rest of your lives repenting in prison for your recklessness today."
Faced with the old marquis's threats, none of the three showed any change in expression.
The old marquis didn't care about their calm response. He snorted, then, as he turned away, shot a meaningful glance at the cowering Baron and lightly turned the plain silver ring on his finger.
Baron's pupils contracted. His face went pale as he lowered his head.
Neither Lestrade nor Ye Yan noticed. But as Smith passed the bowed Baron, his eyes narrowed, and the corner of his mouth curled into a faint smile.
The butler tried to lead the three of them in circles around the manor to buy time, but his efforts were doomed to fail.
After learning that Baron was an illegitimate son of the Butler Family, Ye Yan had used the Luck Compass to locate Cyril Butler by using Baron's blood.
The Luck Compass spun silently in his mind, its trembling needle pointing toward the east wing of the manor.
The farther they went, the stronger the musty smell in the air became, mingling with the pungent odor of some chemical. As they drew closer, the compass needle finally stopped trembling and came to rest in front of an ordinary-looking stone wall.
"He's right here."
Ye Yan turned and told Lestrade and Smith.
At his words, the two of them felt along the stone wall. Lestrade felt a slight protrusion on one of the bricks.
"Found it."
With the sound of a mechanism turning, a secret door slowly swung open.
In the dim basement, a man sat sipping wine from a red wineglass. The display cabinet behind him stood empty, save for a pair of mismatched blue eyes staring at the intruders from within their preserving fluid.
Lestrade's blood ran cold.
He immediately drew his gun and aimed it at the man sitting on the sofa.
"Cyril Butler, you're suspected of murdering several young women. I'm officially arresting you on behalf of the London Police Department!"
Ye Yan and Smith drew their guns at the same time.
Faced with three guns pointed at him, Cyril was surprisingly calm. He looked back at the three of them, a sick smile on his lips.
"My father always underestimates his guests' curiosity. He actually let you find your way into my lounge."
"Your lounge? Then what's that behind you?!"
Lestrade roared the question.
Cyril suddenly burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the basement.
"You mean this?" He raised his hands and looked at the only pieces left in his collection behind him. "They're merely human specimens I bought from a collector. They're my private property, and you have no right to interfere."
Ye Yan frowned at that.
According to Baron, Cyril Butler had treated the blue eyes he removed from the girls as collectibles, hiding them all in a mysterious basement somewhere in Butler Manor.
The Compass's coordinates couldn't be wrong.
Then Cyril's calmness was probably because he had already destroyed all the blue eyes he'd taken from the girls.
Ye Yan looked at the pair of mismatched eyes.
No.
The bastard had arrogantly left one behind.
Ye Yan remembered the girl with rare heterochromia on the missing persons list. Her name was Daphne—the noble girl Detective Lestrade had been searching for all along.
"Enough, you lunatic!"
Lestrade suddenly flew into a rage. "Don't think you can escape punishment just because you destroyed the evidence. Baron's testimony will send you to the gallows!"
"Is that so?" Cyril smiled, madness glinting in his eyes. "Then let's wait and see!"
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