Opera Theater Murder Case (1)
Aslan was cold and cruel, but he wasnât the type to kill for pleasure. Even now, that impression hadnât changed.
âIn the last manuscript, according to his warfare, he is a man that considers life insignificant and doesnât hesitate to act cruelly.â
However, it was a behavior that stemmed from a twisted notion, and there had never been a single description of pleasure from the murder itself.
âAdditionally, Aslan was constantly sending assassins that werenât a threat to make Arthur suffer the pain of killing someone weaker than him.â
It was a kind of harassment that was impossible without understanding from the heart that murder was a painful thing.
âItâs unlikely that Aslan kills for some personal pleasure.â
Aslan was a character described as consistently determined. Unless it was in combat, it was considered to be blasphemy to stain your blade with the blood of an innocent, and he wouldnât accept the battle if the opponentâs status wasnât appropriate. There was an explicit scene in the last manuscript where he dismissed other knightsâ polite challenges for that reason.
âIn his own way, he was a villain with convictions. Pursuing only the noble lineage and power, believing in the rule that those with both are right.â
What the hell was this new rumor then? As more things arose, he felt a migraine building up. Kleio needed Tylenol more desperately than ever.
âSheesh.â
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Kleio went back to his dorm, enduring the headache. As the carriage shook him, his head continued to throb. He felt disturbed that, as a 21st-century man, he had no knowledge of chemistry or pharmacy.
âJust knowing how to make Tylenol would make me not only a lot of money, but it would also help with this headache. Ah.â
He struggled up the stairs to his door, but when he opened it, an unexpected person was waiting for the exhausted Kleio. They werenât sitting but frantically pacing back and forth in the dormitory parlor.
âWhyâre you here? Tomorrow, the sun will rise in the west.â
âWhere were you running around?! Donât you have paid sick leave?â
âI left for a place worth going to, but now my head hurts.â
ââ¦Is it real?â
âCan we talk about it tomorrow?â
âIf youâre not going to die, take a seat.â
After the field trip, Fran had been away from school for a while. Following that, the Door of Mnemosyne and Zebedeeâs classes had been closed. In such a situation, he was exempted from his free research time assignment to see after Fran. Franâs attitude, which had been scattered, changed 180 degrees, and his expression was ghostly white.
âWhat the hell is going on?â
âMurders are taking place in Lundane. I have to solve it somehow.â
âWhat?!â
Kleio was so surprised that his long, drooping eyes opened wide. It wouldnât have been as surprising had he asked for help managing the Peopleâs Flag or some other organization.
âBut murder?!â
He had just heard that the second prince might be a killer, so what kind of misery was this? In the last manuscript, the main characters hadnât been involved in such a heinous crime!
âIf itâs a murder case, why not go to the police first?â
Fran struck the living room table, scattering the paper that had been piled upon it.
âWhen a few boys and a girl selling flowers disappeared from the Opera Theater, the police didnât care! If they listened to me, would I have come to you? All the victims are commoners. The dumb police department guys!â
The blood was rushing to Franâs head. He wasnât acting like this for no reason.
âBut you have a reason to think this is murder, right?â
âAt the start of autumn, Mr. Bartleby of the Printers guild came. His niece, who sells flowers at the theater, hadnât been home for a week. She was taking care of her two younger siblings.â
After all that, Fran still seemed to be helping the union; he was devoted to his ideals.
âScientist or not, his attitude is the same. His essence hasnât changed.â
âThe police? I went to them, and do you know what they said? âA girl her age mightâve eloped with her lover.â They said nonsense like that.â
ââ¦Did you use your skill?â
âYou seem to think that itâs all-rounded, but it encourages people who are already sympathetic at least a little from the start; it canât pierce closed minds. Should the cops pay attention to such affairs? Those sons of bitchesâ¦â
âYouâve had a lot of trouble.â
âIs my hard work a problem?! Eventually, Miss Bartlebyâs body ended up in the morgue. The damage was so severe that it was impossible to verify the cause, though she had burn marks on her wrists.â
âThenâ¦!â
âAnd there was a peculiar etheric reaction on the nape of her neck. There are no wizards in the morgue, so the police department couldnât even sense it!â
Kleio listened carefully to Fran.
âI found that there were quite a few people who suddenly disappeared like that a few months ago.â
The words spilled out of Fran quickly. Even after finding Miss Bartleby, he visited the two morgues in Lundane every day. He had seen four more unidentified corpses, each with that same etheric reaction.
âSome corpses had their throats cut; some had swollen and burst by the time they were found in the water. But, itâs the same criminalâs actions. I can still recognize that strange ether that lingers.â
Kleioâs weak stomach was already queasy from his descriptions. He had suddenly been dragged into âCSI: Albion Editionâ without a chance at refusal. Yet, amid his confusion, he didnât forget to check the basic facts.
âBy the way, Fran, how did you investigate without the skill [Ether Detection] that can only be used by wizards of level 3 or higher? Opening a circle to track the etheric reaction would also require three magic slots.â
âThatâs a valid question. My etheric sensitivity is still 2nd level, but that problem is solved with this.â
Fran tapped the metal-rimmed glasses he wore.
âThis is an object with a mana stone crystal for the lens and a [Sense] magic engraved on the copper frame. I barely acquired them with the money I had.â
Surprised, Kleio activated Understanding to look closely at his glasses.
[Glasses of Judgment
âRating: Best
âDetects ether and determines its properties and properties]
âWhat, itâs right under an artifact in quality!â
âThere was such a wayâ¦â
âItâs not a big deal if you know the principle. I couldnât implement it, so I designed the blueprint and placed an order with a processing wizard.â
His disbelief vanished at Franâs explanation.
âIt was that easy? To think his talent has been corruptedâ¦â
âAnyway, the police donât even conduct proper autopsies for poor commons of unknown identity. It seems that it hasnât been identified, but there is something in common between the corpses with that reaction. Each had bled out.â
Kleio glanced over at the novel Dione had purchased him left unopened next to the sofa.
âThe vampire novel was a bestseller, and now itâs an imitation crime?â
âI tried to move public opinion, but the newspaper wonât publish a story like this. They talk about third-class topics or strange corpses. The police wonât move unless someone more important dies. But youâre the capital hero. Lend me that name.â
At first glance, it was beyond Kleioâs ability. Kleio, who was thinking of getting out of it somehow, remembered what happened during the field trip and closed his mouth. On the night of Franâs death, Kleio himself offered to help after hearing all the boy had gone through. Trust could only be maintained when a person backed their sayings.
âFran is a talent coveted by Melchior, so he canât get away from this.â
If media and publishing were properly developed, propaganda would become a great weapon. Moreover, the murder case itself was a problem. Everything that occurred in this world had a cause. A serial murderer was on the loose, one that hadnât appeared in the last manuscript. If it were related to magic as well, he couldnât sit still.
âIf the time limit for Editorâs Authority were a little longer, I could read the final manuscript carefully, but I donât have the time.â
Kleio rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger to relieve the stiffness in his eyes.
âItâs not difficult to lend my name. Sell whatever you want, but that alone canât solve this. The police wonât be particularly cooperative with me either.â
âWhy?â
âItâs unlike that the reputation of the former commoner who just received the title of a knight will have much power over the police department.â
ââ¦Even though weâve reached the age of an adult, we still have to be evaluated by the names of our parents.â
âWeâre still students. We wonât be treated as adults until weâre twenty, anyway. Besides, there are some advantages to being a student.â
âWhat the hell are they?â
âWe can borrow our classmateâs power. Luckily, we have a lot of outstanding students this year.â
âLucky or not, weâre here. Letâs deal with it somehow.â
âI donât know. The school has the Student Security Autonomy. According to the school regulations, there is a provision that âin case of emergency when the Door of Mnemosyne is open, security maintenance activities are possible throughout the capital.â
Even after destroying the Queenâs Garden, the door remained active. Now, the external barrier of the school was being maintained by wizards belonging to the Defense Forces. That meant such a rule could be applied.
âHow about gathering friends who can afford to participate in the investigation to gather evidence? With solid evidence, the authorities couldnât turn you away anymore. Even if a problem arose in the process, it would be the policeâs problem if it wasnât properly dealt with.â
A rare look of surprise came over Franâs face. He was clever, but he couldnât follow Kleio when it came to experience.
âWhich students belong to the police department?â
âIn our year, Isiel Kision and Celeste Tanpet de Neju.â
Kleio gently shook the bait in front of Fran. If he put the trusty Isiel and Cel together, with their strong sense of justice, they wouldnât lose to anyone.
âWith those two, Arthur will follow automatically. I canât do it myself, but⦠Arthurâs ability will see this through.â
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Cel didnât even think twice. First of all, being able to go out at night legally was a strong incentive.
âGood! If I donât, I feel like mold would start growing on my back from being stuck inside!â
Her wounds had just started to finish healing.
âIf thatâs the case, I will also help. If we could get the evidence and hang it over to the police, wouldnât a formal investigation start?â
Isiel, who had suffered through writing reports for the Defense Force, also seemed ready and willing to help like she wasnât tired in the slightest.
âMe too! Are you going to take me along?â
Arthur was clinging to them, but Fran pushed him away coldly. Kleio, standing back, let out a sigh.
âWell, for a republican, a prince is a foe to be defeated. I donât think that Franâs temperament would fit well with him.â
What to do? You couldnât force a horse to drink, though you could drag it to water.
âBut if he bumps into him, would his prejudice not disappear?â
Was that expectation in vain? Fran raised his glasses and looked over Arthur.
âRiognan, you donât even belong to the police department.â
âThen, as a friend of the officers.â
âIf youâre looking for fun and excitement, we donât need it!â
Arthur didnât get involved with Franâs anger. Instead, he lowered his head with a serious face that erased his smile before looking politely at Fran. Fran opened his mouth angrily but then promptly shut it as he noticed Arthurâs transformation.
âWhat kind of fun is it for people to die? The dead will never come back. Still, the police officers wonât move their heavy asses. How could I stay? I canât pretend I didnât see this.â
Franâs eyes turned over in his glasses.