The suspect

"What exactly is it?" Lumian felt both excited and a little worried.

The lady took a sip of her Venus Holy Oil special drink, then answered at an unhurried pace, "You need to ask yourself that."

With that, she lowered her head slightly and focused on her breakfast, making it clear that the conversation was over.

Seriously, why does she always tell me half and keep the other half to herself... Is she waiting until next time to answer? Isn't that a waste of everyone's time? At that moment, Lumian actually felt that he might be no match for her when it came to infuriating people.

He controlled his breathing, stood up with a smile, and took his leave.

For the rest of the day, Lumian behaved himself and stayed home without going out.

This wasn't because he was so afraid of the owl that he dared not venture out even in daylight, nor because he had nothing to do. He was putting on a show for certain people.

He was very curious about the letter asking for help that Lya and the others had. He wanted to know exactly what it said and who had written it. The best starting point for an investigation would be to find opportunities to inspect every little blue book in the village and locate the one with words cut out of it. As a local villager, Lumian was certainly better suited to doing this than Ryan, Lya, or Valentine. However, he worried that starting an investigation right after speaking with those three outsiders would attract certain people's attention and invite unnecessary retaliation.

With something that might well involve life and death, survival and destruction, Lumian couldn't guarantee that the other party wouldn't risk taking action against him, even with Aurora's protection.

Over the past two years, he had become increasingly adept at knowing how far to go with his "pranks."

That came from extensive experience.

He planned to wait a few days until the Lent Festival began, then "visit" every household under the pretext of exploring legends associated with the celebrations.

After night fell and they finished dinner, Aurora returned to her bedroom to work on a manuscript she had put off for a long time.

Lumian entered the study, intending to find some books about dreams. He hoped they might offer inspiration about what exactly was special about him in the dream.

Since the house had only one battery-powered desk lamp, which Aurora had commandeered, he could only light a kerosene lamp that smelled rather strong and didn't provide much illumination.

Holding the kerosene lamp with its dim yellow glow, Lumian ran his other hand quickly along the spines of the books, occasionally pulling one out and tucking it under his arm.

After a while, he returned to the desk with the three books he had selected.

Just as he set everything down, Lumian noticed the family's little blue book.

It lay quietly in a corner of the desk as usual, with what looked like a little dust on its grayish-blue cover.

The sight of it immediately reminded Lumian of the one he had obtained in the dream ruins, and of the one whose words someone had cut out to assemble a plea for help.

He reached out and picked up the little blue book in front of him, intending to leaf through it and see which words could be cut out to form useful sentences.

After only a few pages, Lumian's gaze froze.

There was an obvious hole in the explanatory text beneath the calendar on the page before him.

Someone had cut out a word!

"No way..." Lumian was utterly stunned.

He quickly flipped through the little blue book in his hands and found another fifteen or twenty places where words had been cut out.

"No way..." Lumian murmured again, his reaction almost identical to before.

The little blue book Ryan, Lya, and Valentine were looking for-the one used to assemble the plea for help-was actually the one in his own home!

Never mind them; even Lumian himself had never expected this turn of events!

He had never even considered it!

Amid an indescribable tangle of emotions, Lumian frowned.

"Could Aurora have written the letter asking for help?

"Why would she need help from the authorities? Why wouldn't she tell me?"

Based on details such as Lya and the others' manner of doing things, and their instinctive choice to consult the Parish Priest as soon as they arrived, he had tentatively concluded that they were officials. Perhaps they came from the government, or perhaps they belonged to the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun or the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery in the Dalege Region.

Lumian hesitated, his expression shifting repeatedly.

At last, he made up his mind. Holding the little blue book, he left the study and went to Aurora's bedroom door.

He intended to ask her directly.

He chose to trust Aurora.

Knock, knock, knock. Lumian curled his fingers and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Aurora's voice rang out.

Lumian turned the handle and pushed the door open. Beneath the desk lamp's bright light, Aurora sat writing a story, wearing two-piece cotton pajamas and a headband that held back her blond hair.

"Did you cut these out?" Before his sister could ask what he wanted, Lumian walked straight over.

"Huh?" Aurora turned around in confusion, her gaze both blank and distant, as though she was still partly immersed in her story.

Lumian handed her the little blue book, opened to the relevant page, and watched her eyes. "You didn't cut these out?"

Aurora examined it carefully for a few seconds, then looked up in amusement.

"Would I do something so pointless and childish?

"Your big sister is sensible, mature, and gracious. Unlike you."

Aurora's reaction is very natural... There's no surprise or panic at suddenly having a secret exposed. None at all... Without hiding his confusion, Lumian asked, "But who would cut words out of the little blue book?"

"Wasn't it you?" Aurora studied her younger brother. "After reading my novel, you decided to imitate it by cutting words out of books and newspapers to put together a kidnapping letter and pull a big prank in the village. But before that, you wanted to see if you could fool me? Are you testing your big sister's powers of deduction?"

It really doesn't look like Aurora did it... Lumian kept his gaze on Aurora's face, watching for even the smallest change in her expression, but nothing about his sister's behavior seemed off.

"It wasn't me." Lumian frowned. "Who could have done it?"

Aurora smiled.

"Keep playing your detective game for now. I have a deadline to meet.

"If I have time tomorrow, I'll help you work out the truth."

With supernatural means? Lumian gave a murmur of acknowledgment and stopped interrupting his sister's writing.

Holding the little blue book, he went straight back to his unlit room and sat in the chair behind his desk.

"Who could it be?"

Under the light of the red moon high above, Lumian muttered to himself again.

He tried to reason it out.

"There are only two of us in this house, and Aurora is a Warlock with supernatural powers. She wouldn't let someone mess around in our home...

"If it really wasn't her, then, as she says, once you eliminate everything impossible, whatever remains must be the truth, however unbelievable it is.

"So, with only two possibilities, I'm actually the one who did it?"

For a moment, Lumian found it both absurd and amusing.

So I'm the 'criminal'?

How come I don't know about it?

He couldn't help turning to look at the full-length mirror attached to his wardrobe.

In the crimson moonlight, the Lumian in the mirror wore a linen shirt and brown trousers. There wasn't the slightest smile on his handsome face; his expression was unusually grave.

He was certain he had never cut anything out of the little blue book.

To make sure, he even reviewed his experiences over the past month.

Although many details had already grown hazy, he was still quite certain of what he had done in broad terms.

Bathed in the red moonlight seeping through the window, Lumian silently asked himself, Could I have done it while I wasn't conscious?

Do I sleepwalk in reality while having that dream?

No, impossible. Aurora said she would keep an eye on me. If I really had sleepwalked and cut up the little blue book, she would have pointed it out just now. Besides, the letter must have been mailed during the day, and I was fully conscious at those times.

Having ruled himself out, Lumian considered other possibilities.

"Maybe it was someone else who visited our house?"

Although they rarely had guests, that didn't mean they never had any.

First, poorer neighbors sometimes came to borrow their stove or oven to smoke meat or bake bread.

Second, Lumian's friends occasionally came over to find novels with simple wording in the study, or to listen to his stories.

Finally, a handful of ladies, including Naa La Yiza and Madame Pualis, occasionally visited to chat with Aurora. Of them, Madame Pualis came most often. She also lent Aurora a pony so she could ride freely through the mountains, and the two were on fairly good terms.

After all, in a rural place like Cordou Village, a writer like Aurora was about the only person worthy of Madame Pualis's company.

On the surface, however, Madame Pualis was very approachable. She often sat in the sun chatting with women like Naroka and even helped them pick out lice. She had quite a good reputation in the village.

Although Madame Pualis and Aurora could more or less be called friends, Lumian didn't like her at all. She frequently introduced Aurora to one relative or another, urging her to marry and have children soon.

It would have been one thing if Madame Pualis's relatives were decent people, but every time Lumian went to Dalege to ask around, he found that the man in question either had a bad character or lacked any real ability and was on the verge of falling into poverty. Not one of them was any good.

Once might have been a coincidence, but when it happened every time, Lumian began to hold a grudge against Madame Pualis.

"It couldn't have been anyone who came to smoke meat or bake bread. Someone always watches them, and they aren't allowed upstairs... Raymond, Ava, and the others are impossible too. I'm with them the whole time... Madame Pualis, Naa La Yiza, and the other ladies did have some opportunity. Whenever they visit, Aurora leaves them in the study to read while she prepares refreshments...

"If Madame Pualis really is a witch, it would make sense for her to hide her identity when asking the authorities for help. And she was cautious enough to use someone else's little blue book so it couldn't be traced back to her...

"Did she discover something while having an affair with the Parish Priest that forced her to protect herself this way?"

The more Lumian thought about it, the more excited he became. He felt he was close to identifying the suspect.

He stood up, paced a few steps, then abruptly headed downstairs.

He didn't intend to confront Madame Pualis, nor did he plan to spy on her right now. Instead, he wanted to find Raymond or young Guillaume from the Berry family and borrow their little blue book for comparison. That would allow him to work out which words had been cut out and what sentences they could form.

That way, Lumian would have a good chance of reconstructing the exact contents of the plea for help.

He hurried downstairs, crossed the kitchen, and opened the front door.

The crimson-tinged darkness outside flooded in, instantly bringing him back to his senses.

"Uh, my sister said not to go out after dark until we've figured out what's going on with that owl..." Lumian muttered, backing up two steps and closing the door.

There was no hurry to borrow a little blue book anyway. Doing it tomorrow would seem more natural.

After stretching a little, Lumian headed toward the stairs.

Ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling.

Someone pulled the doorbell, and its ringing echoed through the house.

"Who is it?" Lumian turned around and walked toward the front door, asking in puzzlement.

A soft, feminine voice with a slightly rich timbre came from outside.

"It's me, Pualis de Roquefort."