Chapter 87 “Vanna’s Investigation”
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In the assembly hall, only the scattered corpses of cultists remained, complicating the investigation as there was no evidence pointing to the attackers’ identities.
One thing, however, was certain: whoever orchestrated this attack was far from ordinary.
The air was tainted with a unique, pungent smell, a trace indicating that “Flames” had once contaminated the area.
Vanna meticulously examined the oil lamps left in the basement. Next to her, a priest took special powders and potions from a toolkit to analyze whether the oil lamps contained substances that shouldn’t exist in the real world.
Fire is the most unique element in this world. It is a visible form of order, the strokes penned by gods when they established the world’s covenant. It stands as evidence that “civilization still endures”—for within flames, the changes and developments of all things leave their mark.
If a supernatural battle had occurred here, then traces would undoubtedly be left in the flames.
As the priest busied himself, Vanna returned to the center of the basement to look at the corpse of a fallen sun cultist.
“Multiple fractures in the bones throughout the body, as if struck by a rampaging bull. It’s hard to imagine what kind of weapon could cause this,” a coroner nearby remarked, “It’s purely blunt-force trauma. No traces of magical influence found.”
“Blunt-force trauma… that shattered dozens of bones at once?” Vanna furrowed her brow. “What is this, a meteor hammer with a diameter of one meter?”
The coroner shook his head: “More intriguing than that are the ashes at the far end.”
Vanna walked to the far end of the basement and saw what the coroner had referred to as “ashes.” A complete set of clothes lay scattered on the ground, surrounded by fine, grayish-black ashes. It was easy to surmise that a person had once been there.
“Without a doubt, this is the work of some supernatural power. Judging by the traces, it might be a form of mutated flame,” Vanna quickly concluded, addressing the coroner. “Ordinary fire would hardly reduce a person to ashes like this while leaving their clothes intact.”
“Additionally, there are impact marks on the walls. This cultist seems to have been slammed into the wall by a tremendous force before being completely incinerated,” another storm priest at the scene noted. “This is the only cultist killed by supernatural power—a form of power we’ve never seen before.”
“Moreover, we’ve found an area in the corner of the basement where some unknown force has severely corroded the ground, but no remnants of any material substance were found. This could also be the result of a supernatural power,” the priest added.
“It could be a spell cast by someone or an anomalous object,” Vanna casually mentioned, “Was this place discovered due to a report from the public?”
“Yes, a concerned citizen heard strange noises coming from the abandoned factory. At the shift change between day and night, they reported it to the local sheriff and the guards at the corner,” the priest next to Vanna nodded. “These cultists had actually been very cautious. They had wiped out all traces of their activities since entering the city-state and had successfully infiltrated the lower city without being detected. If it weren’t for this attack, they could have remained hidden for much longer.”
“Uncovering one lair means there could be more lurking in the shadows,” Vanna said gravely. “We’ll be focusing our investigations on the dingy alleys of the lower city for the foreseeable fu—”
She was cut off mid-sentence as a guard hurriedly approached, holding something in his hands. “Inquisitor, take a look at this!”
Vanna immediately looked up to find the guard holding a small tray. In it were several disfigured copper bullets stained with blood.
“We found two revolvers at the scene that had been fired. These bullets should have been shot from those guns,” the guard reported. “The blood on them could very likely belong to the attackers!”
Vanna’s eyes narrowed on the bullets. What caught her attention was the deformed tips—stained with blood, indicating they had penetrated flesh. However, the manner in which they were deformed could not have been caused by soft, vulnerable flesh.
The only possibilities were that each bullet had hit bone or that the person who was shot possessed supernatural bodily strength.
And how did these bullets, which were already lodged in a body, end up back at the scene? Vanna considered the options carefully. Either the attacker performed surgery on themselves to remove the bullets, or they possessed a special physical ability that allowed their body to “eject” the bullets.
Regardless of which scenario was true, one thing was clear: this powerful attacker had been able to eliminate all the cultists here even after being shot multiple times. Moreover, they had managed to calmly remove the bullets from their body after everything was over.
Vanna looked at her own hands.
She knew she could do something like this, but precisely because she was capable of it, she understood how difficult it would be for an ordinary person.
“Whoever killed these cultists is likely a transcendent with extreme bodily enhancements. Their weapon of choice appears to be some large blunt object,” Vanna summed up her thoughts and turned to an aide. “They are experienced in combat, have a strong will, and are immensely robust. Given the weapon used, they are probably also physically large. They may also possess some sort of firepower. Preliminary judgment indicates they are antagonistic towards the sun heretics, but it’s too early to say whether they’re on our side or not…”
“Notify all levels of guards and sheriffs to be on the lookout for individuals matching the described characteristics. Should anyone find a suspect fitting this description, priority is to report back. Do not engage recklessly.”
The guard serving as her aide immediately bowed his head, “Yes, Inquisitor.”
Vanna took a gentle breath, sketching in her mind the likely appearance of the attacker who disrupted the assembly: a towering, two-meter-tall brute wielding a giant mace or a meteor hammer—a warrior of supernatural skill, calm and resolute, with the ability to summon flames.
It should be something like that.
…
Duncan smiled as he bid farewell to his second customer of the day. Watching the plump lady walk away, he felt quite pleased.
The lady was a regular at his antique store and had today set her sights on a pair of vases to gift to her new neighbors.
The vases were procured from a wholesale market. Though their “production date” was just last week, they were said to have an “800-year history.” Priced originally at over 200,000 soras, they were on sale for just 26 pesos and even came with a complimentary pair of stone figurines, purportedly from the Soland dynasty, “manufactured” last Wednesday.
Old customers knew the goods were fake, but from beginning to end, they believed that Duncan, the store manager, was genuine.
After tossing a few crumpled bills into the drawer, Duncan sat back behind the counter, feeling a little more at ease.
So far, running this antique shop had been a novel and interesting experience for him.
Of course, the small business didn’t generate much income. Selling two vases along with two figurines netted him just a little over six soras in profit. And over the course of the day, he had only had two customers in the shop. He wasn’t sure whether this “foot traffic” was high or low by normal standards, but it was clearly less promising than reporting cultists.
Diverting part of his attention, Duncan checked on the situation with Ai.
The dove was currently flying low over the fourth district. Unfortunately, the sun amulet strapped to her back had so far shown no reaction.
That was to be expected—although a surge of cultists had recently infiltrated the city-state of Pland, they hadn’t yet proliferated to the point where they were ubiquitous. Moreover, they deliberately dispersed, hiding in forgotten nooks and crannies, making them hard to discover.
Hunting required patience, after all.
Duncan was leisurely enjoying this quiet time. While part of his focus was on the movements of the dove, he occasionally turned his attention to the situation on the Vanished. At times, he’d even control his avatar aboard the ship to take a stroll on the deck. There, he’d watch the amusing spectacle of Alice fighting and being chased around by the various bizarre objects on the ship. In moments like these, he felt that his curious life wasn’t too bad at all.
Just then, the crisp and melodious sound of a bell chimed in from the direction of the store’s entrance, interrupting his tranquil musings.
“Welcome,” Duncan said instinctively as he lifted his head to see who had come in. Standing at the door was an older gentleman with white hair, pushing the door open as he entered.
This was a meticulously dressed older man. His deep brown coat was pristine and well-tailored, his leather shoes were polished to a shine, and he held a black cane whose material was difficult to discern. Both his hair and bow tie were impeccably styled.
Such attire was not typical for the lower district where the antique shop was located. It was more suited for the elite in the Crossroad area or even the upper district.
Duncan didn’t have much of an idea about what constituted a “respectable person” in this world, but he could instantly tell that this old gentleman was no ordinary customer.
“See anything you like?” Duncan broke into a smile, playing the part of the genuine antique shop owner. “If it’s fate, take it home with you.”
Guess he forgot about the home visit
Yup, Vanna is an investigative mastermind, the perp is exactly as she imagined.
Reminds me of an investigation scene from The Boondock Saints
She missed one crucial detail though: the assailant is two person not one. Although this is not her fault because she lacks necessary information
I really hope it’s his perception-warping powers making her not connect supernatural flame with cultists to the other supernatural flame with cultists like 5 days ago.
She’s already “dyed in his colors”. No worries there, hehe.
You can say she is covered with his stuff
It felt me to me that Vanna wasn’t up to mark here. What if there were two people? What if one of them was stronger than the other? Or one excelled in flames and other in physical strengths? And if the physical one wasn’t able to completely finish the priest in one shot the other one used his flames to finish him off.
Me looking at well dressed gentlemen coming in. “Is he his son or something?”