LOM: Lord of Mysticism

Tingen City, 2 Daffodil Street.

After leaving a note, Klein walked briskly towards Leonard, who waited by the side of the road and pointed in the direction of Iron Cross Street. "Is Frye waiting for us there?"

"Yes. Did you notice any clues when you were looking at the documents?" Leonard said.

Klein held his cane as he walked along the side of the road. "No, I cannot find anything common in their times, locations, or causes of death. You should know that any rituals involving evil gods or devils must be conducted within a certain time frame or using a special method."

Leonard said, "That isn't an absolute rule. In my experience, some evil gods or devils are easily satisfied, as long as they have a particular interest in what is being asked of them.

Also, a good number of the deaths seem normal. We have to omit them before we can arrive at the real answer."

Klein glanced at him. "That's why the Captain asked us to investigate once more. To eliminate the normal incidents. Leonard, you seem to have considerable experience in this area, but you have only been a member of the Nighthawks for four years, with an average of two supernatural incidents a month. A large number of those were simple and easy to solve."

He always felt that Leonard Mitchell was a little weird and mysterious. Not only was he always suspicious of him, believing that there was something about him. His demeanor also changed from time to time, sometimes quiet, sometimes arrogant, sometimes flippant, sometimes staid.

Leonard replied, "That's because you're not a full-fledged Nighthawk yet. You're still in the training phase.

The Holy Cathedral compiles a record of all supernatural encounters experienced by cathedrals of the different dioceses and hands it down to its members once every six months.

Aside from your mysticism lessons, you can submit an application to the Captain and request to enter Chanis Gate to read these records."

"The Captain has never mentioned this to me." Klein said.

"I thought that you were already used to the Captain's style. To think that you are still naively waiting for him to remind you..." Leonard said and added meaningfully, "We must be cautious of the Captain if there ever comes a day when he remembers everything."

Klein asked, "Is the forgetfulness unique to the Captain? I had thought that it was a problem brought about by the Sleepless Sequence."

"More accurately, it's a symptom unique to a Nightmare. With dreams and reality intertwined, it's often hard for a person to differentiate between what is real and what isn't. They would need to remind themselves what isn't part of reality..." Leonard wanted to elaborate further, but they had already arrived at Iron Cross Street and found Corpse Collector Frye waiting for them at the public carriage station.

The three grouped up silently and walked past the Smyrin Bakery before turning onto the Lower Street of Iron Cross Street.

It was already a little past five. People were returning to Iron Cross Street, and the sides of the streets were becoming crowded.

The three made their way past the area and turned into the true Lower Street of Iron Cross Street.

The pedestrians here were all dressed in old, ragged clothes.

"Let's first investigate the death from yesterday. We'll begin with Mrs. Lauwis, a lady who glued matchboxes together for a living." Leonard flipped his notes and pointed to a place not far away, "First floor, No. 134..."

As the three of them walked forward, children who were playing in the streets, dressed in shabby clothes, quickly hid by the corner of the road.

Leonard entered building No. 134 first.

The air was a mixture of numerous scents. He could faintly detect the stench of urine, sweat, and mold, as well as the smell of burning coal. 

Klein couldn't help but pinch his nose. He then saw Bitsch Mountbatten, who had been waiting there for them.

"Sir, I have already asked Lauwis to wait in her room," Bitsch Mountbatten said in a shrill voice.

He clearly didn't recognize Klein. All he cared about was sucking up to the three officers in front of him as he led them to the Lauwis family on the first floor.

It was a simple apartment. There was a bunk bed laid upright inside the room and a desk filled with glue and hard paper on the right side. The corner of the room was piled full of frames for matchboxes, while an old cabinet sat on the left, acting as a storage space for both clothes and cutlery.

A stove, a toilet, and a small amount of coal and timber occupied the two sides of the door, while the center of the room was occupied by two dirty mattresses. A man was sleeping under a torn blanket, leaving no space for anyone to walk.

A lady lay on the lower level of the bunk bed. Her skin was pale, and she had lost all signs of life. Beside the corpse sat a man in his thirties. He had oily hair and looked dispirited.

"Lauwis, these three officers are here to examine the body and ask you questions," Bitsch Mountbatten said loudly without any regard for the sleeping man.

The man looked up weakly and asked, "Didn't someone already examine the corpse and question me?"

He was dressed in a grayish-blue worker's uniform that had visible signs of being mended multiple times.

"Answer when I tell you to." Bitsch Mountbatten said and turned to others. "Officers, this is Lauwis. The person on the bed is his wife, who is also the deceased. According to our preliminary analysis, she died from a sudden illness."

Klein and the rest tiptoed to the edge of the bed. Frye patted Lauwis gently, signaling for the man to make way so that he could examine the body.

Klein looked at the sleeping man and asked, "This is?"

"M-my tenant." Lauwis rubbed his forehead as he said, "The rent for this room is three soli ten pence a week. I'm only a worker at the harbor, and my wife made two and a quarter pence per crate of glued matchboxes. Each crate h-has, up to 130 boxes. We, we also have a child. We can only rent the rest of the space to someone else. We only charge a soli a week for the mattress...

I have a tenant who's helping out at the theater, and he's not back before 10 at night. He sold his rights to the mattress in the daytime to t-this man. He's the person who watches over the gate of the theater at night, so he only pays six pence every week..."

Hearing the other party stammer as he explained, Klein looked at the crate in the corner of the room. One crate had 130 matchboxes and only earned them 2.25 pence, about the cost of two pounds of black bread. Klein wondered how many crates she could manage a day.

Leonard surveyed the room and asked, "Was your wife acting abnormally prior to her death?"

Lauwis, who had been asked similar questions, pointed to the left side of his left chest. "From last week, well—perhaps the week before, she said that she felt stuffy in this area and couldn't catch her breath."

"Did you see how she died?" Klein asked.

Lauwis recalled, "She stopped working after sunset. Candles and gas are more expensive than matchboxes... She said that she was very tired and asked me to talk to the kids and let her rest. When I saw her again, she had a-already stopped breathing."

Klein and Leonard asked several questions but could not find anything unnatural about the death.

After they looked at each other, Leonard said, "Mr. Lauwis, please wait outside for a few minutes. We are going to conduct a thorough examination of the corpse. I don't think that you'll want to see that."

"Alright." Lauwis stood up anxiously.

Bitsch Mountbatten walked toward the mattress and kicked the tenant, chasing him out of the apartment. He then closed the door and guarded the room from the outside.

"So?" Leonard looked at Frye.

"She died of a heart attack," Frye said, retracting his hands.

Klein took out a half-penny, intending to do a quick judgment, and after some thought, he decided on a statement. "There are supernatural factors influencing Mrs. Lauwis's death."

As he recited the statement, Klein made his way to the side of Mrs. Lauwis's corpse, his eyes turning darker as he tossed the coin.

The portrait of the king was facing up! This indicated that there were supernatural factors influencing Mrs. Lauwis's death.