Trump Card

"Was the money stolen?"

Inside the constable's office, the victim's nephew merely furrowed his brow when he heard this.

"Yes. According to the suspect's statement, he encountered an incredibly ugly child on the road. The purse was probably stolen from him at that time.

"We checked his pockets, and they had indeed been cut open. We already searched the room but found no money. We also interrogated the innkeeper and the servants, and their statements matched.

"The other party hasn't gone out since arriving at the inn.

The suspect must have sensed that the search at the city gates had been intensified.

"Actually, if we weren't afraid of driving the culprit into a corner, we could simply post a wanted notice. It wouldn't take long to find him that way."

The constable reporting on the progress had a handsome little mustache. Its resilient hairs had been carefully tended by their owner, and now they gleamed in the sunlight with a leather-like sheen.

Clearly, this was a constable representing the interests of the local Lineage.

The victim's nephew set down the gold-rimmed porcelain cup in his hand, but his gaze turned toward the priest from the Wealth Church beside him.

"Since the suspect has already been apprehended, I hope the trial can be completed as soon as possible. The Lineage needs me to bring back the head of a murderer, not some so-called suspect.

"Also, I need a written statement from you confirming the cause of my uncle's death. He couldn't possibly have died in such an inexplicable manner."

Elwin looked at the young man before him. After a brief pause, he nodded.

"I'll state everything I witnessed exactly as it happened."

The victim's nephew narrowed his eyes, seemingly dissatisfied with the answer. However, since the other party was a member of the clergy, he did not continue pressing him. Instead, he turned toward the constable before him, who was eager to claim credit.

His gaze swept over the other man's proudly displayed mustache. That had been the fashion in Huika more than twenty years ago. By now, even the men of his father's generation no longer groomed their facial hair that way.

"Thirty gold coins is no small sum. Though people often say that a copper coin dropped in the street is never found again, this isn't thirty copper coins. I hope the loss can be recovered as much as possible.

"Of course, if that proves impossible, giving the thief a lesson he'll remember for the rest of his life is also acceptable."

This time, the victim's nephew did not look toward the member of the Wealth Church.

He knew the other man would not do such underhanded work for him. Nor would he use a silver spoon to dig soil, because a shovel was cheaper and more practical.

"Please rest assured. Our people are already in position."

"Hmm. I understand."

The man replied blandly, then rose from his seat.

A carriage had already been prepared outside, and ships were waiting at the pier as well.

The man's gaze remained fixed entirely on Elwin. His meaning could not have been clearer: he only needed a letter from a priest of the Wealth Church, and then he would leave.

Elwin looked at the man before him and frowned slightly. He had already uncovered a few things. For example, the victim had previously hired a group of adventurers as guards, but the adventurers' commission was only to escort him here.

After they arrived, the victim and the adventurers failed to renew the contract because of the price. The local adventurers' guild had a record of it, and the victim had recently been looking for reputable local mercenaries.

He had been killed during that gap. It was perfectly plausible, yet it carried an unmistakable air of conspiracy.

He hated the feeling of compromise, but he had no evidence at present and could not refuse such a reasonable proposal.

Elwin stood up and casually straightened his collar. It had been making him feel rather stifled.

"I feel a little suffocated."

Heka placed the brush in his hand into a nearby jar of wood oil.

No matter how cramped and filthy the lodging provided by the gang was, at least he could see the blue sky there. Here, he could only see a few rays of light coming up from the ground.

Though it was a little embarrassing, that was simply the truth: the one who could no longer endure it first was not Tuft of Hair, but Heka.

"It's hard to go from luxury to austerity. But after seeing the light, who could endure the darkness again?"

Heka patiently brushed a layer of wood oil over the completed crossbow mechanism before him.

The principles behind a crossbow and a bow were the same. Both converted the elastic potential energy in the bow limbs into the kinetic energy of the bolt.

Essentially, a crossbow merely allowed the shooter to avoid continuously exerting force during the firing stage. The principle was not difficult, but repairing a crossbow with both power and accuracy still required some effort.

As the crossbow's components were installed one by one, Heka hammered a pin into the side of the housing to secure the trigger mechanism.

Heka examined this trump card he had prepared for himself, then stepped on the stirrup at the front of the bow limb.

When one's foot pressed against the ground, it often created the illusion of solidity.

Heka drew a deep breath, then pulled the string upward with all his strength. The veins on his arms bulged. Even with a layer of cloth between them, Heka could still feel his fingers being painfully constricted.

A moment later, Heka felt that his forearm had reached its limit. If he pulled any farther, he would either injure his arm or damage the bow limb.

"So it still won't work."

Heka sighed, then slowly released the string.

Because the bow limb was made of wood, this crossbow had an unusually steep force curve. Even Heka, a complete weakling, could pull it through the first half of its range, but the second half probably required the strength of a strongman.

Fortunately, Heka had anticipated this.

It was a roller mechanism that could be attached to the end of the crossbow's stock. With this little device, Heka, whose Strength was 0.257, could pull the string.

Once the roller was in place, Heka began turning the handles on both sides. It was still somewhat strenuous, but he managed to complete the process.

The string was finally pulled into the locking position. As the trigger mechanism rotated, it caught the string firmly.

After placing a specially made armor-piercing bolt in the groove, Heka put the cocked crossbow into the box beside him.

Tuft of Hair was very obedient. He would not touch anything here.

As Heka closed the lid, another item appeared in his backpack: Simple Crossbow ×1, cocked and ready to fire.

"Looks like there won't be an opportunity for a second resupply anytime soon." Heka looked at the trump card that had finally been put in place and sighed inwardly.

The other crossbow in his backpack was a hand crossbow. Though it was inferior to this crossbow mechanism he had happened to salvage from the sewers, it was still sufficient against unarmored targets.

Or perhaps this crossbow was the real coincidence. It may have been left behind by a crossbowman who had planned to subjugate the sewers but unfortunately died there. After all, this much force was enough to pierce ordinary leather armor.