When Muninn flew into the study at 6 Whitebird Street, Arthur immediately borrowed Muninn's body and heard Malinda muttering to herself.
Arthur was puzzled.
So that's how what is?
What earth-shattering secret have you figured out this time?
You're just like those traditional "Mediums"-nothing but a mystic fraud!
Arthur kept grumbling inwardly.
On the surface, however, he sounded thoroughly apologetic-
"Sorry, Malinda. I didn't mean to disturb you."
Malinda had a habit of taking a ten-minute nap at midnight and noon.
If possible, Arthur would rather not have disturbed the lady at this hour.
But he simply couldn't wait any longer.
Pendragon was still lively and energetic, seemingly fine.
Simon, however, had inexplicably hit his head on a stone while turning over just after falling asleep. He had cried out and lost consciousness.
And his breathing was growing faint.
Arthur didn't even dare touch the probationary officer.
Because Arthur knew perfectly well that touching him would only make him die faster.
"Heh, you're so desperate to show off to me that you couldn't wait?
How childish!"
Hearing Arthur's voice coming from Muninn's beak, the lady sneered and picked up her pipe. She filled it with tobacco while curling her lip, seemingly disdainful, but her eyes kept flicking toward the raven on her desk. Arthur caught the faint envy in them.
Arthur immediately understood what she had misunderstood.
The young "Medium" promptly prepared to explain.
But before the young "Medium" could speak, Malinda's coachman, Edwin, walked in.
The coachman gave the large raven on the desk a surprised look. After Malinda signaled him to speak freely, he immediately reported the news he had just received.
Upon hearing it, the lady froze.
"Arthur killed one of the 'Four Notes of Death' from the 'Death Poetry Society's Thirtieth Choir'?"
"Yes!"
"And Arthur is