Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 168
It had been a long time since there had been a violent murder case in the inner city. To be precise, since Louis took full responsibility for security, there had not been a case involving the deaths of more than two people.
The reputation of White Bridge as a “no-go zone” was largely due to its defensible terrain and the ancient protective blessings it retained. Internal brawls and executions weren’t subject to this restriction. Louis, inheriting Fahim’s cold and iron-fisted methods, had suppressed internal family disputes with extremely severe punishments. In such an environment, even Khalif, without a valid reason, would be impeached for stripping multiple people of their lives under the guise of the family head.
This certainly placed some restrictions on the privileged class. However, in contrast, the sense of security within the inner city greatly increased. Some daring young ladies even ventured out with only one or two maids, wandering the brightly lit streets until eight at night.
So, when Azman heard the news of Cameron’s death on the street, a suffocating fear quickly enveloped him from head to toe: first Adan, then Louis, and now Cameron—if anyone dared to tell him this was an accident, he would jump up and slap them hard!
This was clearly a conspiracy against the Wolf family Elders. Look at what happened to poor Cameron! Three guards, one assistant, and a coachman all died at the end of Frelaf Street. The carriage was destroyed, and the blood of the five men flowed through the cracks in the pavement into the alley next to Frelaf Street. The area was a tall building mainly rented out to various companies for office use. The crime scene was at the back door of the building on the shaded side, a place usually only passed by the administrator and employees sneaking a smoke. This undoubtedly increased the difficulty of solving the case.
A squad under Louis arrived at the scene as quickly as possible and collected the bodies, but they found no witnesses. Logically, five grown men, three of whom were well-trained guards, shouldn’t have been silently killed on a street in broad daylight, even in a relatively secluded location.
A high-level mage could do it, Azman thought. Only magic and curses could kill so many people so quickly. But the violently damaged carriage made this reasoning contradictory—solving crimes wasn’t his forte. The Elder good at it was missing, and although Azman didn’t like Louis, he certainly didn’t wish for him to end up dead in some unknown ditch.
Because Khalif clearly didn’t care about the Elders’ lives. Earlier, when Adan and Louis disappeared, he showed not a hint of regret or sorrow. His first reaction was to coldly distribute their powers and duties to those still alive.
Louis and Adan were the youngest Elders, exceptionally capable and promising. Losing such people couldn’t make Khalif emotional. At this point, Azman found it hard to deceive himself into thinking that the remaining Elders would be any different in Khalif’s mind.
Human psychology was strange and selfish. When Khalif treated others with such coldness, Azman secretly rejoiced. But when Cameron, an Elder of similar seniority and a close acquaintance, met with misfortune, the fear and panic of losing a companion made him unable to stand.
“Where’s Arthur?” he managed to ask, trying to steady himself. “Where did Arthur go?”
“Mr. Arthur went to Paradise Island. Mr. Cameron asked him to handle communications between the two sides…”
“Increase security—no, get him back first.” Azman was like an ant on a hot pan. “Elders shouldn’t act alone at a time like this.”
He muttered to himself, “Yes, don’t act alone. Bring all of Louis’s men here to protect us… and Lord Khalif.”
Azman had the family heirloom that temporarily granted him the authority to act. With Louis absent, most of the armed forces in the inner city were effectively under his control. This realization made him feel a bit more secure. The shadow of Cameron’s daylight assassination loomed large, and in his panic, he didn’t think through the deeper implications of these incidents. He only instinctively tried to protect himself in every way possible.
In this situation, Azman overlooked many things, such as sealing off the news to prevent panic, strengthening guest security to prevent further incidents, and investing energy in tracking down the killer… He did none of these necessary tasks.
Therefore, the news that “an elder of the Wolf Family was stabbed to death in broad daylight inside his carriage” spread faster and wider than the most notorious gossip about the city’s courtesans, inevitably embellished several times over. The most accepted version among the public was that “someone had awakened an ancient, dormant demon in the inner city. Unable to find sustenance, it roamed aimlessly, killing people at random. Several recent murders were actually the demon’s doing.”
“What kind of demon kills in broad daylight?” a coachman whispered to his companion. “Werewolves under the moon, vampires at night, witches on cloudy days… Which of these evil things doesn’t shy away from the sun? I don’t believe it.”
“Do we have to discuss this? It gives me the creeps… If it weren’t for the damned strike, I wouldn’t have to be a coachman. Damn it. If my wife knew I became a coachman, she’d demand to go back to her mother’s house.”
“Who doesn’t feel that way?” The other coachman sighed. They might not be rich or hold the Wolf name, but they were genuinely born and raised in the inner city, fundamentally different from the people of Paradise Island. Even if they lived frugally, less wealthy than some of the Paradise Island workers in the inner city, they considered themselves spiritually and socially superior, ashamed to be associated with those “inferiors”.
“Stop complaining… Are they coming out?” His companion glanced around. Perking up, he jumped off the step and quickly returned to his carriage, shushing the napping coachman behind him, signaling that it was time to work—they were to escort someone important and had been sternly warned not to make any mistakes.
They reacted quickly. Several armed men escorted a hooded figure from the passageway, moving straight to the carriage without pause, then shoved the central figure into the vehicle.
The coachman took a second look. Wasn’t this supposed to be a big shot? That shove seemed a bit rough—was he seeing things?
“Stop gawking!” The lead armed man noticed the gaze and barked, startling the coachman into looking away.
But he hadn’t seen wrong. The shove was indeed rough. Jim, pushed into the carriage, almost fell to the floor, and though he managed to adjust his posture, his knee hit the floor hard.
It didn’t hurt much.
Jim, in a daze, shut the door and sat on the floor, lost in thought.
He had been in a daze for a while since a senior told him that his brother Jason had been beaten to death.
The man liked gossip and had detailed the events to Jim. If it hadn’t been time for his shift to watch the venue, he might have gone on to predict the critical time of the impending conflict between Paradise Island and the inner city.
Jim was first shocked, then enraged (thinking it was a baseless rumor), but as he listened, he became increasingly despondent. Having worked in the inner city for years, he knew the inner city folk were capable of such senseless cruelty, especially towards those from Paradise.
Professionalism kept him from breaking down immediately, but he couldn’t sustain his rationality. He followed commands like a puppet, doing as instructed—until his knee hit the floor, snapping him out of his stupor. He couldn’t distinguish between illusion and reality, unsure if today’s events were real or a dream.
If not a dream, how could the strong Jason have been beaten to death? Jim’s hands and feet were ice-cold. He curled into a ball, staring blankly ahead.
If it wasn’t a dream, then why was there a rabbit in the carriage?
???
A rabbit?
He blinked blankly, watching as the carriage bench was lifted from below. From the storage space emerged a rabbit… head.
“Good thing you didn’t sit down, or I’d have had to toss you off. Could you give me a hand—huh?” Struggling out of the cramped space, Charlie leaned over and met Jim’s eyes. They stared at each other in silence.
“Who are you?” Charlie asked.
Jim: …That question shouldn’t come from an intruder.
“I heard this carriage was supposed to carry the astrologer,” Charlie continued, pulling himself out. Tall and long-legged, he had suffered stuffing himself in there for so long.
“Are you an assassin?” Jim asked sluggishly, oddly unafraid.
If today was his last, he wouldn’t complain. His family was gone. Helping the kind Mr. Kurt once more before dying didn’t seem bad.
“Uh… no,” Charlie replied. “I’m just a big fan wanting to meet him.”
Charlie noticed the young man on the floor seemed off. He squatted to meet his eyes. “Are you okay?”
Jim’s eyes followed his movements.
“I’m not the astrologer,” Jim said. “You won’t meet him. I’m just a stand-in, here to check tonight’s venue.”
No wonder he was dressed like that, Charlie thought.
The kid wore a robe but had no magical aura. The outfit was contradictory. If he was a stand-in, it made sense—far enough from the stage, with the right lighting, it could work temporarily. But up close, it was clear he wasn’t the real thing.
Unless the Wolf Family intended no close encounters with the astrologer.
This wasn’t a good sign. Had Khalif killed Kurt? Hence needing a stand-in?
But Kurt was a living astrologer. Such a rare being, even a corpse or relic, held value. Though Louis thought Khalif was crazy, Charlie didn’t think he’d lost his mind that much.
More likely, Khalif had seen Kurt’s power and changed his mind. That made sense—anyone with ambitions would be moved by an all-knowing astrologer.
Charlie thought for a moment. “What’s your name?”
Jim’s lips moved. He didn’t understand why this stranger cared about his name, but long-ingrained obedience made it hard to refuse a firm tone.
“Jim, my name is Jim,” he weakly replied.
The author has something to say:
Charlie takes on human form when working.
Transforms once on the carriage, with Dwight assisting.
Surprise, he’s furry again.
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