A few days later.
The Tribunal on Tuer Street received a report. In a small house on a remote street within their jurisdiction, there was a highly decomposed corpse soaked in a wooden barrel. The first to discover the corpse were the nearby neighbors.
On a long-awaited sunny day, the putrid smell of the decaying corpse wafted out, exposing the body. When the people from the Tribunal rushed to the scene in a hurry, they were immediately confronted with a horrifying sight. The highly decomposed corpse was sitting upright in the wooden barrel, with its hands clasped together as if in prayer. Two steel nails were driven through its chest.
The people from the Tribunal recognized the clothing of the corpse at a glance. It was actually the deacon's uniform of the Tribunal.
This was like a depth charge, causing a great commotion.
After identifying the identity of the corpse, all the branch offices of the Tribunal in the entire commercial district were alarmed.
As the fourth top force independent of the nobility, the military, and the Holy Church of Light, this was the most serious trauma and provocation that the Tribunal had suffered in five years. For a time, each Tribunal listed this case in the highest execution priority.
The day after Hollett's corpse was found, another highly decomposed corpse was found in a sewer outside the Tribunal. After identification, it was exactly Hollett's coachman.
The investigators sent by the Tribunal immediately found the owner of the small house. It was a slightly chubby middle-aged man. When he was brought into the interrogation room of the Tribunal, he was already so frightened that he was completely collapse.
"At 8 o'clock in the evening on the 17th, where were you?"
"I was at home. It was raining heavily then, and I was with my family."
"I heard that you rented out your house. Do you still remember what the tenant looked like?"
"I don't remember. He was wearing a hood at that time and kept his head down all the time. It was also too dark, so I didn't pay much attention. But I remember that he was quite thin."
"When signing the lease contract, didn't you check his identity card?"
"I asked him for it, but he said he didn't have it with him. Later, he said he would only rent it for a week and gave me ten silver coins. So, I rented it to him."
"Hmph, a greedy wretch."
From the investigation of the house owner, the information obtained by the Tribunal was extremely limited. The only thing that could be confirmed was that the murderer was male, and this was a planned and premeditated assassination.
However, with the death of a deacon, the Tribunal naturally wouldn't let it go. The corpse and the crime scene were strictly protected. The Tribunal assigned two senior Tribunal knights to be in charge of detecting the information left behind by the murderer.
What first caught their attention were the two steel nails. They were sent to the Tribunal for inspection. Before long, it was discovered that there were two types of bloodstains on the steel nails. One was Hollett's, and the other was an unknown type of blood.
Although they couldn't find the murderer from the aspect of the blood, the Tribunal quickly found the source of the steel nails – the Thistle Flower Prison.
In addition to the steel nails, the Tribunal also found a few rose petals at the scene. Therefore, all the flower gardens and flower shops in various places on Tuer Street were strictly investigated.
...
...
In another part of the commercial district, in Yade Town.
A carriage drove in and stopped in front of an inn. A pale-skinned teenager got out of the carriage, holding a bunch of deep red roses in his hand, and entered the inn.
Dong dong~!
The door opened.
"Dian?" Joseph in the room was delighted to see Dudian at the door. "Come in quickly. You're finally back."
Dudian entered the room. Joseph was the only one in the spacious room. He asked, "Where are Barton and Kroen?"
"They went to gather information and will be back soon." Joseph was surprised to see the flowers Dudian was holding. "Why did you change the type?"
"The previous ones withered." Dudian smiled slightly and poured himself a cup of hot tea. After a while, he smelled that Barton and Kroen had entered his perception range. Soon, the two of them returned to the inn.
"How is it?" Dudian asked the two of them.
Barton and Kroen were delighted to see Dudian, as if they had found their backbone. Hearing this, the two of them exchanged a look. Barton said, "These days, we've asked around everywhere, from the pig butcher to the owners of various shops. According to them, the Lane family is a declining minor noble family. The clan leader is named Fulin Lane, who is 62 years old this year. His wife died a long time ago, and he has four children. The eldest son is 48 years old and has three children, all of whom are married..."
Dudian listened as the two of them detailed the information.
"Since it has declined, the Lane family only has two knight teams, with ten people in each team and about thirty retainers, making a total of fifty people. And we heard that many of these knights are not regular knights. They haven't received honorary medals in the Knight Hall. It's just that the old clan leader cares about face and recruited some trainee knights into the formation to expand the number and make it look better on the surface."
After a while, the three of them had told all they knew.
Dudian nodded slightly. After thinking for a moment, he stood up and said, "You guys wait for me here. I'm going out for a while."
"Where are you going?" Barton couldn't help asking.
Dudian smiled and said, "I'm going to pay a visit to this old clan leader."
...
...
As night fell.
The ancient castle on the high slope outside the town was brightly lit.
Knights and retainers were on duty everywhere in the ancient castle. The daily guarding work was extremely boring. They had long been tired of the always-repeating scenery. Moreover, the guards all knew that even the stupidest thief wouldn't come here to search for treasures. That would be like looking for water in the desert or for fire in the ocean.
The guards stood together, chatting about the interesting things they had heard recently to pass the time, just hoping that the night would pass quickly.
In the huge dining hall of the ancient castle, the old clan leader Fulin sat at the head of the long table. His children, grandchildren, and granddaughters were seated in two rows on either side. One of the older granddaughters was handing her child to the nanny, asking her to take the child to be breastfed.
A huge chandelier hung above the dining table. The oil lamp gave off a withered yellow light, which was the lamp oil used by ordinary residents.
After dinner, the children and grandchildren stood up one by one, bowed to the old clan leader Fulin, and went back to their respective rooms to rest or play.
"Grandpa, what do you think about the matter of opening a store on Wall Street that I mentioned to you last time?" After most of the others had left, a young man in his twenties asked the old clan leader Fulin in the chief seat.
The old clan leader Fulin slowly looked up at him, frowned, and said, "I've investigated it. Although Wall Street is prosperous, the store rent is too high. The scrap metal you want to sell has too low a profit margin. It's not even enough to cover the rent, let alone make money to subsidize the family."
The young man's face changed slightly, and he quickly said, "Grandpa, what I'm selling isn't scrap metal. They're all good swords and knives forged by master craftsmen that I worked hard to find. They can definitely be sold at a high price. As long as you lend me some money to rent the store, it's definitely a sure profit!"
"You're too naive." The old clan leader Fulin sighed. "First, go and investigate the items in other similar stores near Wall Street. If you think the things you sell can be better than those in other stores, then come to me again. Never treat customers like fools. They're all very shrewd."
"Grandpa!" The young man said anxiously.
"Hutton, don't be rude!" The middle-aged man beside him scolded.
The young man was stunned and lowered his head sullenly. He threw the fork in his hand away and turned to leave.
The middle-aged man quickly said to the old clan leader Fulin, "Father, please don't be offended. This child is ignorant and a bit impulsive."
"He's still young. After a few more years of tempering, he'll understand." The old clan leader Fulin sighed and said nothing more. He picked up the walking stick beside the table, stood up, and was helped back to his room by the maid beside him.
Leaning on the stairs, the old clan leader Fulin returned to his room. He covered his chest and coughed lightly. The middle-aged maid beside him quickly took out a medicine bottle from the cabinet and handed it to him.
The old clan leader poured out two red pills and swallowed them. His cough eased a little. He waved his hand to let the maid leave.
After the middle-aged maid left, the old clan leader Fulin, leaning on his walking stick, slowly came to the desk beside the bed. He lit the oil lamp, took out a magnifying glass from the drawer, and began to read the books on the table.
"You're in a good mood, Clan Leader." Suddenly, a voice came from a dark corner of the room.