This was just one of many impoverished households. The man of the house had died in the war, leaving a mother and her son, still two years short of adulthood, with only each other to rely on. They struggled to get by, but misfortune had descended on them: the son, who represented the family's hopes, had been tainted by evil, and an Evil Spirit had nearly devoured his soul.
Although Handel had handled all the paperwork for closing the case from start to finish, Mulan had been watching the woman. She was thin and looked old for her age, and some of her finger joints were wrapped in dirty, bloodstained strips of cloth. Besides potatoes, their food even included potato peelings they had scavenged...
It was only just past noon when they left the apartment building, but the street still looked gloomy. Handel had gone ahead to hail a carriage. Evan walked in front, in high spirits, while Mulan's expression was rather grave.
"What's wrong, Mulan?"
Mulan came back to himself and shook his head slightly.
"There are two things on my mind. Evan, does the Holy Temple keep any records specifically about Holy Relics?"
"It should, but I've never paid attention to them before. I could try looking through the relevant materials. Is there something you want to know?"
Evan already had a fair understanding of Mulan's temperament. He never beat around the bush with friends, and anything he asked about was bound to relate to something he wanted to do.
At Evan's words, Mulan dispensed with the formalities.
"Help me find out whether there are any Holy Relics or special elements related to eyes. I'll look through the relevant materials at the Black Castle too. And, well, it's best to keep this quiet."
"Eyes? All right. I'll come find you if I learn anything."
Evan trusted Mulan completely. Since Mulan offered no further explanation, he did not press him. He had seen the light in Mulan's heart and knew this was a soul capable of drawing close to the True God.
"Oh, right. What's the second thing on your mind?"
At Evan's question, Mulan glanced back at the alley behind them and thought of that family. The two Silver Didi he had left were merely the price of two carriage rides for many people, but for them, they might provide food for more than half a month, perhaps even a whole month.
"The war pensions they were owed never arrived..."
It was not quite true that they had received nothing. The woman had told Mulan she had received a total of ten Silver Didi in government assistance. But what the hell was ten Silver Didi worth?
"Are any of my old soldiers' families struggling through their days in despair, just like this family?"
As a veteran of a brutal war, as a retired officer, Mulan felt a tightness in his chest. He wanted to know how the families of his old soldiers were faring now-those men who had once relied on him, followed his orders without question, and then fallen on the battlefield.
When they emerged from the gloomy street, Handel was already waiting beside a carriage. Seeing Mulan and Evan approach, he hurried to open the door.
"Lord Jonester, Priest Evan, please get in."
Handel was still excited. This trip was destined to remain unforgettable for the rest of his life. For the first time, he had truly glimpsed the possibility of another world and witnessed things that usually existed only in rumors and legends. That terrifying, beastlike patient, those roars, and that chilling sensation had all made him realize that such dreadful things really did exist in the world.
Mulan smiled at Handel.
"We'll probably encounter plenty more things like this in the future. Remember, don't go poking around on your own."
"Yes, Lord Jonester!"
Already seated inside the carriage, Evan could not help laughing too. Mulan's assistant was full of energy. Someone like him was well suited to working at Mulan's side.
Mulan and Handel climbed in one after the other, and the carriage began to move. This area was rather like a slum, and they saw quite a few children in ragged clothes through the window. After they had traveled some distance, however, the scenery outside began to turn bright and glamorous, with Digo's Splendor flaunting itself beyond the glass.
Evan prayed throughout the journey, a strong sense of holiness surrounding him. He said he was about to choose to step onto the Path of Truth. The Holy Temple's path formed a system of its own and seemed somewhat simpler than what was described in the Book of Abundance.
In the office at the end of the third-floor corridor of the York District Police Station, Mulan sat at his desk, writing steadily.
"Dear Mrs. Auburn, my name is Mulan Jonester, and I was your husband's commanding officer. I deeply regret his death in battle, and his courage remains unforgettable to me... In writing to you now, please forgive my presumption in asking... I eagerly await your reply. Mulan Jonester, November 23."
As soon as he finished one letter, Mulan sealed it, then immediately took up his pen to begin the second.
Of course, Mulan could not possibly know the family details of all his men, but he did know those of some he had been closer to. He had even recorded them in his military notebook. He would write the letters first, then look up the addresses when he got home.
He wrote more than a dozen letters in succession, each with different contents. Mulan could recall the stories of many soldiers and remember those pivotal moments, and he included them in his letters. They would at least give the families something to remember their loved ones by. Of course, every letter had the same purpose: to ask whether the pensions had been paid.
By the time Mulan finished writing, the lunch sitting beside him on the desk had long since gone cold. In weather this chilly, food lost most of its warmth if left untouched for ten or fifteen minutes.
Mulan put down his pen and stretched. Handel immediately rose from his seat.
"Lord Jonester, I'll heat that up for you."
"No need. I can eat it like this."
Writing so many letters had inevitably brought back memories of those war-torn years. In the hardest times, even eating biscuits with a mouthful of ice-cold water had been a luxury.
As for the report on today's case, of course, Handel had already finished it.
Their first day of work had been quite productive. At the police station's usual closing time, Mulan and Handel left the office. People in the station were already taking the initiative to greet them. It was a good start.
Handel did not live in the Black Castle, so Mulan went home alone. Naturally, he did not use the decidedly sinister main entrance, but returned by the route through the market instead. Many people who lived in the Black Castle also used that route.
It was an enormous market, bustling with voices in the early evening. Today, however, Mulan had things to do and wanted to get home quickly, so he had no intention of lingering or looking around. He bought some vegetables and meat along the way, then hurried back to the Black Castle.
While passing along a path that circled a lake, Mulan encountered someone he knew. Dolly was sitting on a rock by the shore, staring blankly at the water, and he could not help slowing his steps.
"Dolly? I remember you weren't living beside this lake, were you?"
Dolly turned to look at Mulan.
"I just wanted to see every lake in the Black Castle. Mulan, I thought you'd go to the Lecture Hall today. What did you do instead?"
The Lecture Hall was actually a place within the Black Castle where people could pay to learn. Besides borrowing books from the library, they could also offer money or items to have someone teach them, but it was extremely expensive. After all, the instructors were no ordinary people, and they would only accept requests if the payment was something they valued. Of course, newcomers received a benefit: one free session each month, with the Black Castle covering the cost.
"I borrowed some books, and I was assigned a task."
"A task? On your very first day? It seems they really do think highly of you."
Dolly was dressed in her usual masculine fashion. Her gaze swept over the groceries in Mulan's hand.
"You can cook?"
"A little. Uh, would you like to come try some?"
Mulan had only asked tentatively, and Dolly shook her head.
Mulan smiled and continued on his way. When he had gone a dozen or so steps, Dolly suddenly spoke again behind him.
"Today I asked about someone having constant nightmares, with symptoms very similar to yours. That fellow-hmm, I think he was called a Mystic-said that everyone who comes into contact with the mysterious has nightmares to some degree. But if someone's condition really was that severe, they should already have suffered a mental breakdown, or even been devoured by an Evil God. They couldn't possibly still be alive. He also asked me where that person was."
Mulan stopped without turning around. He had only spoken briefly with Dolly about his nightmares in private during the latter half of the train journey, and had not gone into much detail. Even so, the answer had turned out to be this grave.
"And what did you tell him?"
Dolly lay back on the large rock, cradling the back of her head in both hands.
"I said, 'That's true. That person's not right in the head. Who knows where he's gone.'"
Mulan turned to look toward the rock. From his angle, all he could see was a hat and her hair spilling down like a waterfall.
"Are you sure you won't come try some? It's food unlike anything in this world."
The figure on the rock visibly stirred, but she still said nothing. Mulan left her be and went home alone.
But Mulan did not rush to cook. Instead, he first dug out his old notebook, looked up the home addresses of some of the fallen soldiers, and added them to the letters he had written that day.