Chapter 13: One Minute from the Truth.
Inspector Orgh was seething. One minute—just sixty seconds—had stood between him and the identity of the killer. However, the vision had at least revealed one crucial detail: the assassin was of slight build and short stature.
He deactivated the **Ether Viewing Piece**, feeling its lingering warmth against his palm before sliding it back into a small pouch among his other ethereal artifacts.
"So, we must proceed with a standard investigation... this piece didn't expose the killer," Jishi said dejectedly, the grief evident on his face.
"Not entirely," Orgh replied calmly. "At least we know the culprit is physically weak and short. We will pivot our focus toward those who fit this description, though we won't officially clear the others just yet."
Despite his frustration at the timing, Orgh couldn't help but think: had he arrived moments earlier, the mystery would be solved. But such was the hand of fate. Now, they were left with the grueling, mundane details of a traditional investigation—something Orgh was accustomed to, though the rapid escalation of events weighed heavily on him.
Orgh moved toward the desk near Overd's corpse. The sound of wood scraping echoed in the room as he pulled open the drawers. In the first drawer, amidst a pile of slave contracts, one particular document caught his eye. It was a freshly placed debt agreement.
Orgh picked it up and read aloud: *"Debt contract between: Leeward Kashin and Overd Kantum Monoth... indebted for three kilograms of silver..."*
The contract was signed with a blood-print and sealed with Overd's personal stamp.
"This document is still fresh... Bring Leeward Kashin here."
"Are you referring to the man who secured his freedom only this morning?" Mayor Doville asked, recalling Leeward's sharp features. He remembered the lone eye and the jagged scar crossing the other. "He was Overd's slave. But I don't believe he fits the description, Inspector. This man is powerfully built and not at all short."
"A slave who gained his freedom the very day his master was murdered?" Jishi interrupted, his voice sharp with conviction. "That alone makes him the prime suspect. We must apprehend him immediately!"
"Calm yourself, Jishi," Orgh countered, his analytical mind already at work. "If he truly killed Overd for his freedom, why leave the debt contract behind? Destroying it would have been in his best interest, erasing any legal obligation he had."
Orgh wasn't a superficial thinker. He saw the contradiction. "As the Mayor said, he is well-built, which contradicts the vision. This doesn't clear him, but it keeps him only on the periphery of our suspects."
"He also admitted to getting his freedom as if it were the most natural thing in the world," Doville added, crossing his arms. "It made me suspicious, yet at the same time, it gave me pause. He is a strange individual."
Silence fell over the office as each man sank into his thoughts—until a sudden alarm jolted them.
The door burst open. It was **Ogi**, looking as if he were being pursued by ghosts, his face a mask of pure terror. He had finally arrived to deliver the message from **Oliver Morse**.
"Mr. Mayor..." Ogi gasped, his breath ragged. "One of the army commanders from the **Sharman Clan**, Oliver Morse, has arrived in Morgue Village with a battalion... and they are carrying the bodies of many fallen warriors."
The news hit the room like a lightning strike. The investigation into Overd's death had barely begun, and now a far greater storm had descended upon them.
"What? What are you talking about? Oliver Morse... and an army?" The Mayor's voice trembled with disbelief.
"Soldiers of the Sharman Clan..." Orgh cursed under his breath. "This happened at the worst possible time. Damn it."
As for Jishi, he showed little concern for the escalating political situation. His mind was consumed by the funeral of his brother, Overd, and the urgency of burying him before the body began to decay.
"Inspector Orgh, I presume you have gathered everything you need from my brother's remains, haven't you?"
"Not entirely... but for the sake of progress, let's say yes," Orgh replied.
"Then I shall begin the arrangements for his funeral."
"Yes, yes, you are right," Ogi interjected hastily. "But I need you to prepare fifteen graves in addition to your brother's... the number of fallen soldiers is quite large."
The Mayor slapped his forehead in frustration at Ogi's lack of tact.
"What do you take me for?" Jishi's face contorted with rage. "A servant to this commander? No matter his rank! Let him dig the graves for his own soldiers. I will do what is necessary for my brother alone; the rest are none of my concern."
"Oh, right... I apologize. I spoke too fast. My apologies, Mr. Jishi," Ogi stammered, bowing respectfully while sighing deeply to calm himself.
"I am leaving now, Inspector Orgh. Please inform me of any developments in the case," Jishi muttered, stepping out of the office with a heavy heart. His steps were slow, burdened by a misery that grew with every movement.
*"That slave, Leeward Kashin... I'm certain he played a part in my brother's death,"* Jishi thought, a dark scenario taking root in his mind. *"I'll make sure he never escapes this. He must have threatened to kill Overd to get his freedom. Overd complied out of fear, then wrote the debt contract to trap him later. Then Leeward hired an assassin to finish the job, unaware that the contract even existed."*
To Jishi, this logic was flawless. Yet, his suspicion toward Haigy remained, doubling his resentment. He harbored a deep, inherited hatred for both Haigy and Leeward.
*"I will ensure they both die in the most agonizing way possible..."*
His grudge against Haigy was old; Haigy had always been Overd's sole rival in the market, often surpassing him. The news of Overd starting his own Danek Arena had only fueled the fire. Jishi was convinced Haigy killed Overd to eliminate the competition in the Danek sports industry.
**At the Legal Authority Headquarters**
Rishi, Overd's widow, sat on the wooden benches, clutching a hot cup of coffee. Her thin frame and fragile hands were stark beneath her elegant gown as she tried to soothe her frayed nerves.
"I'm terrified... my husband is dead, and I don't know what to do. There is no one left to stand by me," she whispered, her voice laced with a sorrow that Junki, the General Supervisor, couldn't quite decipher. He couldn't tell if her grief was genuine or a well-crafted performance.
"Don't worry, Lady Rishi. You aren't alone," Junki said, attempting to comfort her. "The entire Kantum Monoth family is behind you. I'm sure they won't let you suffer through this cruel life alone."
He looked at her kindly. "Everything will be fine. We must trust in destiny; what is written will come to pass. No one truly knows the next step in this life; it is all unpredictable. For example, Overd's death—no one expected it today. He was in good health. No one knows when they will d—"
**SLAP!**
Rishi struck Junki across the face with startling force. The wooden coffee cup tumbled from her hands, splashing dark liquid across her beautiful gown, staining the fabric and scalding her thighs. Her expression twisted into something sharp and hellish.
"How dare you say this was destiny! That it was written?!" she screamed. "Overd wasn't 'destined' to die; he was murdered against his will!"
The word 'destiny' seemed to strike a raw nerve deep within her, as if she were rejecting the very notion—or perhaps, as if she felt that she had made a deliberate choice, and couldn't bear the thought that it was all part of a preordained path.
Junki's gaze turned cold as he nursed his stinging cheek. He thought bitterly to himself, *"As the saying goes... show them kindness, and you'll get a slap in return."*
---