“Extra! Extra! The Hall of Order raids the Railway Workers’ Union overnight, capturing fourteen individuals connected to the Square Massacre and seizing over forty pieces of evidence, cracking the massive case within twenty-four hours!”
“Extra! Extra! Hall of Order swift and efficient, achieving great success overnight to crack a major case within twenty-four hours!”
“Extra! Extra! City Hall’s approval rating surges rather than falls following the massacre, supporters praise City Hall’s capable direction in thwarting further vile plots by the culprits!”
“Extra! Extra! Excited citizens surround the Governor's Mansion to pay tribute to the royal family! A royal-direct agency led police to crack the major case, citizens hold aloft portraits of His Majesty Rudolph II and Her Highness Princess Sophia, chanting ‘Long live the Rose family!’”
Morning, May 16, 1399.
People were astonished to discover that the city’s entire atmosphere had transformed overnight.
The sudden outbreak of the Square Massacre on the 15th had left over a hundred dead and hundreds injured; the Kingdom of Lande had not seen such a massive incident in more than a decade.
Yet throughout the entire day of the 15th, many citizens noticed they heard almost nothing about it from news organizations.
There were no special editions, no extras; virtually all news organizations had maintained absolute silence.
It was like the final calm before the storm, oppressive and stifling.
Discerning individuals had already realized the previous night that a tremendous eruption was brewing within the silence.
Perhaps come morning, the media would launch a one-sided war against city hall and the Governor's Mansion.
Incompetent police, a weak city hall, a regional governor obsessed only with building railways while ignoring mounting conflicts... Shrewd minds could already envision the headlines plastered across major newspapers the following day.
And that was indeed the case: fifteen newspaper publishers had already run their presses overnight, waiting only to distribute them across the city.
Yet just before dawn, several pieces of breaking news struck like a thunderbolt.
Backed by the Governor's Mansion and directed by city hall, royal-direct special security agencies and the Hall of Order police had joined hands to work a miracle.
They uncovered the truth: the Railway Workers’ Union, driven by self-interest, had conspired with deranged cultists to orchestrate the tragedy.
The case was cracked, and the perpetrators were caught red-handed along with the evidence.
Furthermore, a super expert supporting the governor and the royal family had invoked a divine miracle, bringing down divine retribution from the heavens to wipe out every cultist.
Nearly all of the news was the complete opposite of what had already been printed.
Thus, after journalists scrambled frantically to salvage the situation, a spectacular sight emerged come morning: not a single regular issue in sight, but an absolute flood of extras.
“All parties were originally bracing for the worst. The Hall of Order had even selected several scapegoats to prevent public outrage from exploding if the case couldn't be solved in short order.”
Beside Crown Square, Officer Natalie and Lynch sat inside a carriage, listening to the boiling cheers outside.
Officer Natalie was dressed in her usual men’s attire, completely unchanged, but Lynch was a different story.
Though he had recovered his top hat upon returning to the surface, his trench coat was completely ruined.
Fortunately, Mr. V guaranteed that this counted as duty-related wear and tear covered under expense reimbursement, promising to reimburse him for a new trench coat later under Officer Natalie’s supervision.
Deeply moved, Lynch immediately declared on the spot that his dress shoes and top hat had also suffered damage, but Mr. V merely replied with a beaming smile, telling him to think it through beforehand next time, shutting down Lynch’s crestfallen attempt.
Having met up with the female officer and taken a police carriage to Crown Square, the female officer was explaining in a low voice amidst the traffic:
“Yet you ended up delivering them a massive gift. In a single night, you completely overturned the authorities’ disadvantageous situation, pulling them out of the quagmire and letting everyone breathe a sigh of relief.”
“It was us, not me.”
The female officer’s lips curled into a slight smile, letting out a soft huff before ignoring Lynch to continue, “They’ll definitely snatch the credit, and your status as a Watcher consultant isn’t suited for the spotlight anyway. But to keep ‘our’ mouths shut, and to ensure people still dare to do their dirty work in the future, our benefits certainly won't be lacking. Sadly, as the key figure who wreaked such havoc on the entire city’s press, Mr. Levive won't have the chance to stand before the public this time. Why don't I interview you on behalf of the reporters? What are Mr. Levive’s thoughts on the meritorious service you performed for the city?”
“My thoughts? How much money are these benefits worth? Enough to cover next month’s three-and-a-half-pound rent?”
Lynch patted the seven pounds of consultant fees he had collected from the Scarecrow Club that morning; the other three pounds had already been returned to the female officer.
“To your disappointment, there won't be that much money. But... you’ll find out in a bit.”
Cliffhanger fiends were truly the worst.
Knowing he’d find out soon enough anyway, Lynch curled his lip and pressed further, “I heard you mention earlier that some super expert invoked a miracle? What was that about?”
“That beam of moonlight. Mystery experts analyzed it and determined it was invoked by a legendary expert—a top-tier powerhouse who broke through rank nine authority.”
“Huh? Wasn't that...” Lynch froze, looking at the female officer as realization dawned. “You didn't report it?”
“I had no idea what happened either; I just saw a beam of light shine down.” Officer Natalie averted her gaze. “If you want to share, go tell them yourself.”
Touched, Lynch stood up slightly and gave a shallow bow. “Actually, I don't know either. Maybe a passing legendary expert really did lend a hand.”
“Many things in the world of mystery have no explanation, so just be careful yourself.”
With that, the female officer opened the door and hopped down from the police carriage; they had arrived at city hall.
There was no trace whatsoever of yesterday’s carnage and devastation. At present, twenty to thirty people had already gathered in front of city hall—men and women alike dressed in loose, practical coats, waving pen and paper in hand. Some had even hauled over cameras with a crew, setting up contraptions larger than a person right at the entrance of city hall. At a glance, they were clearly the journalists of this era.
This is our handiwork.
The two exchanged a smirk and slipped into city hall while the reporters weren't paying attention.
Inside, city hall was in neat order, though there were significantly more guards in formal uniform compared to yesterday, their attire distinct from city hall’s security personnel.
The moment Lynch stepped onto the second floor, a sharp prickling sensation struck between his eyebrows—the alert of his inspiration. Looking up, he saw the stern, conservative Mr. V walking down the adjacent corridor, leading three men in formal attire.
The four on the other side were also taken aback. Mr. V quickly smiled and said in a low voice, “Just in time. I came out to bring the three of them in. Come along together. Let me introduce you beforehand: this is Director Holf of the Hall of Order, and the other two are Inspector Bruno and Inspector Walter. Gentlemen, this is Detective Lynch Levive.”
“A pleasure to meet you, a true pleasure.”
Director Holf remained reserved, nodding politely of his own accord, whereas the two inspectors were exceptionally warm, gripping Lynch’s hands tightly and refusing to let go for a long time. Disgusted, Lynch hastily took a few steps back, seamlessly pulling Officer Natalie in front of him as a shield.
Sorry, partner, but these two might have some unusual inclinations.
Taking the opportunity to glare back at him, Officer Natalie mouthed the word: “Scapegoats.”
Lynch immediately understood. Had he not resolved the incident in time, these two inspectors would soon have been reassigned to patrol rural farmland. No wonder they were so enthusiastic.
“You’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted later. Come inside first; don't keep the dignitaries waiting too long.”
Mr. V waved a hand and led everyone through a magnificent, heavy wooden door.
“Eldest Princess Sophia is scheduled to personally preside over the groundbreaking ceremony for the railway project. I don't care what conflicts exist within this matter; they must all be completely resolved before the start date. Let the capital and the royal family see an undisputed situation, so Her Highness the Princess can fulfill her duties safely. If you cannot resolve it, either delay the construction or cancel the project entirely. Hmph, there are still three months until the start date, yet hundreds have already died. Once the date draws near and Sophia arrives, who knows what trouble will erupt? If Sophia is put in danger, the Vane family’s centuries of loyalty to the Rose family will become a total joke. So every single one of you had better—”
The moment the door opened, an aged, steady voice drifted out. It wasn't loud, yet commanded natural authority, leaving the room dead silent save for his voice.
Inside, it somewhat resembled the European parliamentary chambers one might see in movies, though on a much smaller scale. Below the rostrum were several semicircular rows of seats. Three individuals sat on the platform, while roughly twenty others were seated below.
The three influential figures from the Hall of Order conscientiously walked to the back corner to take their seats. This gave Lynch a jolt: if even men of their rank had to squeeze into a corner, the status of those seated below went without saying.
All three individuals on the rostrum wore formal attire. A white-haired, white-bearded elderly man sat in the center, flanked by two middle-aged men on either side. One wore a monocle and must have been quite handsome in his youth, while the other wore a curled wig, his narrow eyes squinted into a thin line.
“Follow me.” Seeing that the aged voice had ceased, Mr. V led the two toward the rostrum, whispering as they walked, “In the center is Duke Vane, governor of the Rhine region. To the right with the monocle is Mayor Hoffman, and to the left with the wig is Speaker Lorant of the House of Commons.”
Hiss... what a massive lineup.
Rate on N.U.
