The other person stabbed Neuvillette in the neck. However, Neuvillette swiftly turned towards him and stabbed him with all his strength before shattering his head into mere grains of sand. Someone started shooting at him, but he dodged with incredible speed and then struck with such force that he destroyed the building's door.
A group of gangsters dealing in illegal drinks and meats appeared. They grabbed their weapons and opened fire on him. Neuvillette took cover behind a wall, contemplating how to eliminate them. As he savored the thought, a stream of memories coursed through his mind like a rope, carrying strange words that pointed toward someone:
"You will never be like your father."
"Look at him—how disgraceful."
"I feel sorry for her. If she had a good son, none of this would have happened to her… Poor woman."
"Did he really see her and do nothing? What a black stain upon him."
Then, those chains of memories suddenly snapped. Neuvillette grabbed his head, speaking to himself:
"What is this? What did this murderer do to deserve such cruel words? Who did he see and fail to act?"
One of the gangsters aimed a gun at the detective's head, but Neuvillette partially severed his hand with a dull cleaver before crushing his heart with a powerful blow.
In the main hall, there were five more people, all searching for the detective. But he struck like a snake—biting and vanishing behind nature's curtains.
They were in a state of panic, unaware of his location until he pounced on two of them, decapitating them instantly. Only two remained in the hall.
Neuvillette appeared behind one of them, piercing his back. The other man noticed and fired, but Neuvillette used the corpse as a shield before throwing it at the last man and stabbing him in the chest.
As he pulled his cleaver from the man's body, another series of memories rushed through his mind:
"We need to plant some vegetables and sell them… Ever since his death, no one has knocked on our door anymore."
"When I see you sad, my heart splits in two—one half wants to give you everything, the other… wants to reclaim what was lost."
Neuvillette clutched half of his head, reflecting on the words that came from a voice of someone lost—someone longing to regain what they had lost. Absorbed in these thoughts, he ascended to the second floor in utter silence.
Upon reaching the second floor, he opened a massive, suspicious door. A foul stench assaulted his nose. In front of him stood two enormous men, chopping up bodies—not just any bodies, but human corpses.
One of the giants turned around and saw Neuvillette, letting out a faint noise to alert his partner.
"Looks like we have a tasty, sweet meal, my friend."
The other man laughed loudly.
"The boss is going to love this gift!"
One of them powered up a chainsaw, laughing as he charged at Neuvillette. He aimed to sever his arm, but Neuvillette broke his hand with sheer force. However, the second giant appeared behind the detective and stabbed him violently in a vital spot. Neuvillette paid no mind to the wound—he simply grabbed the giant's head and tore it from his body.
The other butcher saw an opportunity while Neuvillette was distracted and attempted to slice him in half. But Neuvillette kicked the man's leg, causing him to fall backward. The chainsaw landed on his head, tearing it into scattered pieces until it was completely destroyed.
Another wave of memories flooded Neuvillette's mind. He sat on the corpse of the butcher who had been shredded by the chainsaw, listening in silence.
"We must protect ourselves from these butchers… all they care about is money."
"If something happens to me, run away, Silas! It's useless—there's nothing that can protect us!"
Neuvillette rose from the corpse, grabbed his mask, and shattered its lower half. He ascended to the final floor, where he found a man sitting in a luxurious office, surrounded by scattered money.
The man was smoking, and when he turned towards Neuvillette, his appearance became clear—short blond hair, a long beard, and two scars across his black-colored eyes.
He spoke with a voice that blended calmness and arrogance:
"So, the infamous killer wasn't just an old legend whispered by a bunch of worthless old men."
He took another drag from his cigarette and continued:
"I am Mr. Wells. It is an honor to meet you, a true legend."
Neuvillette remained silent, merely watching him. Wells chuckled lightly and continued:
"You don't seem like the talkative type… No problem. I have a proposal that will benefit you—let's share the business and rise to the top together. What do you think of that offer?"
Neuvillette approached Wells, extending his hand—then suddenly drove it straight through his throat, causing his eyes to explode completely.
With this mass slaughter, Neuvillette had reached 100%. A final wave of memories surged into his primal mind:
"Darkness has fallen upon us, Silas… You should sleep. Tomorrow, you have a hard day ahead, my dear."
"Sitting by the fire is better than sitting by the sea. One lets you burn your thoughts, the other lets them drift away."
"You must run… Don't stay here, Silas. Run away!"
A vivid image surfaced in Neuvillette's memory—a house surrounded by trees and breathtaking nature. In front of the house was a small river, and the design of the house was simple, likely built by a single person. A sign stood before the house, reading:
"The most beautiful and only house in Kentcent."
Neuvillette returned to his original form, his crimson eyes illuminating the dark valley.
"It seems that the final location to meet the madman who terrorized London for fifty years is near… and so is the end."
He stepped out of the building, the rain falling ominously, casting doubts about an unknown fate. Neuvillette called his horse, Mystic Cloud.
The horse appeared from nowhere. Neuvillette mounted it and spoke:
"To the final journey—Kentcent."
As he traveled, thoughts bled through his mind like liquid sorrow. He questioned himself about the unclear memories:
"It seems there's a mystery behind this killer. Who was the woman speaking? His mother? His sister? Or perhaps his caretaker? So many questions about this murderer's identity… but the one thing I've learned from these memories is that something major happened to him."
An hour later, Neuvillette reached his destination. He examined the house from the outside—the atmosphere was eerie, the air heavy with gloom. No lights shone from within or outside.
He opened the door and stepped inside. The house was in complete disarray from every corner. A chair sat in the center of the room, old and worn by time.
Scanning the house, Neuvillette's eyes landed on a picture of a young boy with blond hair and striking blue eyes—a handsome child. But the two people on either side of him had their faces smeared in blood.
Neuvillette stared at the picture, questioning:
"Is this the murderer when he was a child? And the bloodied faces… are those his parents? There's something strange about this case."
He gathered some wood and threw it into the fireplace, igniting it. He placed the chair near the fire, but facing the front door. He set his dagger upon his lap, waiting for the killer's arrival.
Two hours passed. Then—the door creaked open.
Neuvillette looked up at the figure standing at the entrance. A sinister smile crept onto his lips as he spoke:
"How are you, Silas? I've been waiting for you."
The door creaked open, letting in a wave of cold air that swept through the old living room. A figure stood at the entrance, staring at Nuvillette. The detective smirked eerily and spoke.
"I've been waiting for you… Silas."
Nuvillette rose from the couch, locking eyes with Silas. Without hesitation, Silas lunged forward, grabbed the detective by the throat, and slammed him into the floor with such force that the sound of cracking bones echoed through the room.
Lifting Nuvillette by his hair, Silas attempted to drive a blade into his face. But the detective countered by smashing his head against Silas's skull, then stabbing him in the stomach, forcing Silas to hurl him away.
A hysterical laugh erupted from Nuvillette as he clutched his face with both hands, his fingers digging into his skin.
"It looks like you're in pain, Silas… Unfortunately, the pain I feel doesn't reach me."
Silas charged at him again, but Nuvillette intercepted, gripping his body and slamming his elbow into Silas's back with immense force.
Silas collapsed from the impact, but as Nuvillette moved in to finish him, Silas grabbed his leg and hurled him toward the fireplace.
Coughing up blood, Nuvillette struggled to rise. Silas aimed a devastating kick at his head, but at the last second, the detective plunged his blade into Silas's leg, carving a deep wound along its length.
Seizing the moment, Nuvillette rose and delivered a powerful punch to Silas's stomach, forcing him to stagger back.
With a sinister grin stretching across his face, Nuvillette grasped Silas's shoulder and whispered:
"The road has many branches… How many will it take to reach your end?"