Chapter 21: Lower-Level Mission of a Violent Investigator

This is the task, a standard initiation for the Blades of Night, a low-risk investigation.

Usually, these are contained and do not spread, so they are left for newcomers to handle within three days; now, it is your turn to practice.

Garcia said this while handing several sheets of parchment to Wang Yu. They were covered in neat text, appearing printed rather than handwritten.

It was unclear whether printing presses existed or if this was some peculiar form of magic.

I will take a look, Wang Yu said, accepting the parchment and studying it closely. Garcia observed Wang Yu’s reactions; while framed as practice, it was also an assessment.

For now, Garcia was satisfied with everything regarding Wang Yu, though some aspects still required observation, as the role of a Blade of Night demanded much.

The parchment contained detailed information: a low-level investigation task located in a small town not far from here, Oakclaw Town.

It was not large, significantly bigger than the nameless village from before, but tiny compared to the towns within the city.

Several people had recently gone missing in the town, and their bodies were later found scattered about, reduced to mummified husks.

After the local constabulary reported it, the incident was classified as supernatural, falling under the jurisdiction of the city guard from the higher-level township.

However, the Blades of Night, as an independent organization specializing in Void-related matters, also held the authority to handle such cases.

This time, Garcia had secured the rights to this low-level investigation and entrusted it to Wang Yu and Avia as a test.

The mission duration was three days, and the target had been locked to a hunter’s cabin, with all surrounding personnel evacuated.

Simultaneously, magic detection arrays had measured the magical intensity as low-level, hence its classification.

Excuse me, I am a rather direct person; if I encounter a situation where the target is confirmed but the circumstances remain unclear, I would simply blow the cabin to ashes.

That might resolve the matter; for instance, when I encountered that fragment of the God of Fear, I had actually intended to burn the entire forest if I ran out of options. Wang Yu spread his hands and asked Garcia.

So, can I use violent demolition this time? Wang Yu asked the question he most wanted answered.

This fellow was a door-kicker enthusiast; back in the previous world, while playing Call of Cthulhu, he loved kicking down doors, always insisting it was a normal way to achieve a goal rather than the behavior of a ruffian.

Thus, he often appeared as a pyromaniac whenever the conditions allowed.

In reality, kicking down doors is quite effective at solving problems; while it might disrupt a Keeper’s plot, it is logically sound.

Likewise, since the target was already confirmed, why not blow the cabin sky-high became the central question.

No matter what monsters or demons were inside, if you blew the cabin and its contents to pieces, the problem would vanish.

This was what Wang Yu had always wanted to say; investigators in other stories loved to explore mansions, adventuring to find the truth.

But in truth, violent demolition is the best choice; not only are all secrets exposed, but the risk is also minimized.

Considering the property concerns of those investigators, they might not be able to afford the damages, but the Blades of Night, an important organ of the Kingdom, along with the city guard, certainly had the means to cover it.

Especially for just a small cabin, could they really not afford it? Wang Yu mused, assuming it would be no problem.

Garcia was stunned by Wang Yu’s question, frowned in thought, and finally nodded with a hint of helplessness, You may...

It was not as if such cases never occurred; when facing particularly stubborn situations, the Blades of Night would also choose such violent methods.

However, the Blades of Night usually operated within densely populated towns.

The mansions there were expensive, and destruction would cause significant economic loss, so such violent means were generally avoided.

A more important reason was power; for the nobility, face was often of great importance.

Sometimes, the messes they created were exactly what the Blades of Night were meant to handle.

If their own mansions were destroyed, it would be a source of great shame in their so-called high-society circles.

Thus, these nobles were very unwilling to let the Blades of Night use violent means to solve problems.

Sometimes, a question of face could cost many investigators their lives, and Garcia was quite helpless about this.

Although the Blades of Night possessed a certain transcendence, that only applied to local nobility.

As for those in the capital, it would be a lie to say they were not heavily constrained.

He just had not expected Wang Yu to propose a door-kicking solution right from the start.

But thinking about it, Garcia realized he had fallen into a cognitive trap; this was not the capital, but a remote, insignificant place, and Wang Yu’s solution might indeed be the best.

Rubbing his hair, Garcia shook his head, wondering if he had played the game of power for so long that he had become like those people.

That was not good; he did not wish to be that way, at least not now.

This mission is a test, so just solve the problem in the way you are best at.

Given your strength, since you have reached the level of a probationary knight, handling a low-level task should not be a problem. Garcia agreed to Wang Yu’s approach.

No problem, I will do my best to complete this mission. Wang Yu nodded, feeling confident after carefully reviewing the target.

Very well, I will go notify Avia to prepare; you should get your own combat gear ready.

The mission cannot be left for you to practice too long; if it is not handled within three days, the city guard will come to resolve it.

Garcia told Wang Yu to prepare quickly while he went to inform Avia so they could depart.

The location was not far; with a fast horse like Torrent, they could arrive within half a day, so time was not an issue.

The main problem was how to handle the incident; staring at the mission description, Wang Yu’s desire for a door-kicking investigation grew stronger.

Because while the mission was labeled an investigation, it was essentially about solving a problem.

Wang Yu stared at the parchment for a long time, reading only four words between the lines: demolition and forced entry.

Rubbing his chin, Wang Yu recalled the spells Avia had just learned a few days ago.

First-circle Fireball, first-circle Explosive Flame; it seemed clear how this investigation would be handled.

...

Dark clouds obscured most of the sun’s radiance; despite it being past ten in the morning, the weather, which should have been bright, appeared strangely and gloomily overcast.

The small town, usually bustling and peaceful, was now exceptionally silent, with most residents choosing to stay behind closed doors.

The few small shops that remained open had almost no customers, lacking any sign of life.

The area near the west side of the town was already deserted, as most had chosen to stay temporarily with acquaintances.

A few who had neither money nor friends had no choice but to sleep on the tavern benches for free, forced to ignore the landlord’s disgusted glares.

Ever since the bodies began appearing in town, this small, quiet place had been shrouded in a layer of gloom.

The inexplicable deaths and the suddenly discovered mummified corpses brought immense panic to the residents; this was the helplessness of ordinary people facing the supernatural.

There were few adventurers in town, and the strongest among them were only at the level of probationary knights, who had no interest in meddling in such eerie tasks.

After all, the town could not offer much coin, and it was not worth risking their lives.

Thus, the mummified corpses appearing everywhere and the sudden loss of relatives and friends became the source of the townspeople’s fear and sorrow over the past few days.

The entire population lived in fear behind locked doors, yet this could not stop the sudden deaths.

Often, when residents woke the next day, they would find a body on the street, reduced to a husk without flesh or blood.

Fear grew and spread until a few days ago, when the city guard, notified by the local constabulary, arrived.

They locked the source to a small wooden cabin on the west side of the town, finally curbing the spread of death.

The guards ordered the residents to stay away from that area; although some were unwilling to abandon their property, fearing theft, the dual pressure of the fear of death and the guards’ blades forced them to leave.

The western side of the town had fallen into a deathly silence, while the other districts, though still bleak, had begun to show signs of life now that the inexplicable deaths had ceased.

As it turned out, the apprehensions of some were well-founded; there are always greedy souls who value the pursuit of coin above their own lives.

Dark clouds choked the sun’s brilliance, casting a gloom over the western edge of town, a place that should have been bright and open, devoid of any towering structures.

This was the weather favored by daylight thieves; the night was too dark, and lanterns only made one conspicuous, but this overcast gloom provided the perfect cover for a heist.

Benjamin crept through the shadows between the buildings, a sliver of terror still gnawing at his heart.

He had seen the corpses from the previous days with his own eyes—those bodies drained of every drop of moisture, their faces twisted into masks of withered, agonizing dread. The mere memory made his soul shudder.

But he was a gambler, a man who could never restrain his own hands, and this time, he had lost everything down to the last copper.

The tavern keeper, who usually wore a friendly mask, was no soft touch; his smiles were reserved only for noblemen and wealthy patrons.

If a man like Benjamin lost his shirt and couldn't pay his debts, the price was a hand severed at the wrist.

There was no choice; only one place offered a quick path to money. The west side had been mostly abandoned, and while the residents had taken their valuables, a few scraps were bound to remain.

If he could just scrape together enough, it would be enough to settle his debts.

Moving with cautious stealth to avoid being spotted from afar by other townsfolk, Benjamin pried open a window and scrambled inside.

The interior was in disarray, likely left in haste as the owners fled, leaving no time for order.

They had packed in a rush, and usually, that meant the most precious items were already gone.

He sighed; regardless, anything he could trade for coin would suffice, and if he found enough to buy a few bottles of spirits, all the better.

Once inside, the fear of being seen vanished, and Benjamin began to ransack the cabinets and drawers.

He was a seasoned thief, having been caught more than once in the past.

But because he was a local, and because he would always grovel and beg for mercy the moment he was nabbed, people had let him off with a warning.

In truth, he had stolen far more often than he had been caught.

His hands were practiced; he tore through every drawer and cupboard with ease.

He found little of value—only some clothing that was cumbersome to carry and too easily identified to sell.

Benjamin grew disappointed, assuming there was nothing left to plunder. He racked his brain for any other hiding spots.

Suddenly, he remembered his own shiftless father, who used to hide his drinking money under the mattress—a discovery that had earned Benjamin a brutal beating. Perhaps this household had the same habit?

With nothing to lose, he hurried to the bedroom and plunged his hand beneath the pillow.

Ah, there was something. He pulled out a small cloth pouch and gave it a shake; it emitted the distinct clinking of metal.

He knew that sound all too well. As a regular at the gambling dens, he could tell instantly by the ring that it was a mix of silver and copper coins.

Benjamin was ecstatic. A single silver coin was worth a hundred coppers; two silver coins would clear his debts entirely.

Even better, the surplus would buy him enough drink to revel for days, and perhaps, with a few more wagers, he could turn that money into a fortune.

The thought sent a thrill through him; he could hardly wait to get back and indulge.

Yet, this windfall only stoked the fires of his greed.

If he had found such a treasure here, why not hit a few more houses? Perhaps he could make even more.

No, he would certainly make more. Greed had completely purged the last remnants of his fear.

Human nature is a strange thing; once the potential profit is great enough, all other thoughts are driven from the mind.

Click. A sound echoed from behind Benjamin as he knelt by the bed.

The guilty thief spun around, no longer fearing monsters, but terrified of being caught by a townsman.

A small figure stood before him: a young boy with messy brown curls, his forehead bruised and stained with blood.

His clothes were filthy, his face smeared with grime, and he clutched a torn teddy bear to his chest.

His brown eyes were fixed on Benjamin and the coin pouch in his hand, his expression unreadable.

Benjamin’s heart skipped a beat, a jolt of terror surging through him at the thought of being discovered.

But upon realizing it was just a brat, the man who had traded his fear for gold felt his nerves settle instantly.

"Hey, kid! What are you doing here? Get lost! Go back to your mother and suckle," Benjamin snarled, putting on his most menacing face.

If it was just a child—seven or eight years old—it didn't matter. Education was scarce in these parts; a kid that age couldn't articulate much anyway.

He just needed to shoo the boy away. He could always come back later, though he had to be quick; the constabulary said help was coming soon, and once they arrived, his window for easy money would close.

Benjamin’s posturing failed to frighten the boy. He simply stared in silence, clutching his ragged teddy bear.

Benjamin noticed the bedroom door was ajar. He had entered through the window because he lacked a key—could this boy belong to this house?

A bad feeling crept over him. Being identified would be disastrous. It was time to run.

"Listen here, brat, keep your mouth shut. If you dare tell anyone, I’ll show you what true cruelty is."

Benjamin tucked the pouch away, shot the boy one last hateful glare, and scrambled toward the open window.

Just then, Benjamin felt something wrong. His limbs grew heavy, his movements sluggish and uncomfortable.

He tried to lift his leg to climb out, but it went numb. He pushed harder, only to feel something dragging him back. He turned, confused.

From the shadows, thin, withered arms were reaching out, grasping his limbs and torso.

The hands looked frail, yet they held him with an iron grip, rendering him unable to move toward the window.

He looked in horror at the boy, finally realizing the source of his doom. His wide eyes reflected the sight of the boy stroking his teddy bear.

Black claws emerged from within the toy, reaching into the shadows, then reappearing from the darkness to seize Benjamin.

A hand emerged from the gloom and clamped over Benjamin’s wide-open mouth.

Amidst the muffled, desperate sounds of his failed screams, the shadows surged into his body. Moments later, a dried-up husk of a corpse collapsed by the window.

The boy hugged his teddy bear, a smile spreading across his expressionless face. "Sister, I'm home..."