The gas lamps on the hall ceiling, assisted by several groups of lenses, blazed with extraordinary brightness, overpowering the sunlight streaming through the windows on both sides and bathing the entire room in their orange-yellow glow. But beneath the chandelier, scattered across the expensive carpet that covered the floor, were several patches of bloodstains that had already been absorbed into the fibers and were nearly dried.
To call them bloodstains was inaccurate—the alarmingly abundant blood pooled on the carpet had already congealed into jellied masses, while irregularly shaped fragments of flesh were scattered in radial patterns at different positions. Red muscle and internal organs mixed with yellow-white skin and fat, releasing an almost visible metallic scent of blood.
The last time Angel had seen so much blood and human tissue was in Enmat Port, in the cellars of the dock district.
Instinctively, she raised her head to survey the hall, wondering if she might find the inverted giant statue of the "Aurora Order."
Of course, she found nothing.
How could there be traces of the "Aurora Order" everywhere? After their Enmat Port stronghold was destroyed and "Rose Bishop" Mr. C was seriously injured, they should have ceased most activities and kept a low profile like any sensible organization—this would fit the behavior of a cult organization... right?
But thinking of how they had dared to build altars in the port of a major city, using flesh and blood to sacrifice to evil gods, Angel found herself uncertain again.
"Please describe the situation when the scene was discovered."
Leonard's reassuringly steady voice came from beside her.
But looking at the tense set of this poet's mouth, his inner state didn't seem as calm as his words suggested.
"Of... of course," the police officer who had retreated to the doorway forced himself to appear composed and stepped forward two paces. "The deceased should be the Plack family. Alan Plack was the head of household, an immigrant from the Southern Continent. He lived here with his wife and their son, who had just come of age."
The police officer spoke with a slight tremor in his voice, his gaze constantly darting toward the hall behind the door before quickly looking away.
According to the officer's account, the first person to discover the murder was a laundress employed by the Plack family. She had entered through the side door at noon, but found that the clothes to be washed weren't in their usual place. Curious, she had ventured into the house but encountered no one—neither servants nor the master's family—until she reached the hall...
"Fortunately, this woman didn't run screaming into the street, but retained enough presence of mind to go to the nearest police station to report the incident. Otherwise, what we'd have here now wouldn't be us, but reporters from every newspaper in the city."
"You were very fortunate."
Leonard replied with an indifferent tone.
He pulled on leather gloves, took a deep breath, and walked into the hall.
Angel prepared to follow him, but noticed the police officer beside her had a hesitant expression and had stopped moving forward.
"Please make a trip to 34 Zotland Street, 'Blackthorn Security Company.' Find Mr. Neil and ask him to come here. Explain the situation to him—he'll know what to bring."
It seemed that even police officers who frequently dealt with murder cases found it difficult to adapt to the scene before them. Angel simply sent him to fetch Old Neil—his divination and spirit communication abilities would be needed here.
Actually, the best choice would have been Klein, who had cooperated with Angel many times, but he had already left for Ramde Town. By the time he returned tomorrow, this scene probably wouldn't yield much useful information through divination.
The police officer who received this new order looked as if he'd been granted a reprieve. He hastily saluted and quickly left the anteroom, his hurried footsteps echoing as if monsters were chasing him.
Seeing the main door close behind the departing officer, Angel turned and walked into the hall.
Leonard had already circled the hall's perimeter and returned to the entrance from the other side. The leather gloves on his hands were stained with quite a bit of blood—he had obviously examined the scene thoroughly. Seeing Angel enter, he nodded slightly and said:
"The corpses were destroyed very thoroughly—you can hardly make out a single complete limb. Look at these," he pointed to the nearest "remains," where bloodstains and fragments of flesh were scattered in radial patterns across several square meters. The flesh and blood were most densely concentrated at the very center, but still, no piece could be recognized as having any distinguishable shape. "An entire human body exploded from within, reduced to what you see now. What does this bring to mind first?"
Advancement losing control, body exploding and dying?
Angel almost blurted this out, but on second thought, realized Leonard's meaning was probably different.
"Aurora Order?"
She asked tentatively.
Leonard's face formed a brief smile, which was instantly replaced by seriousness. "Correct. The Aurora Order's 'Listener' pathway. Didn't you encounter a 'Rose Bishop' in Enmat Port? Does this feel somewhat familiar?"
You seem even more familiar with it than I am...
Angel complained inwardly, then nodded.
"But what was their purpose in coming here to kill? Seeking revenge, or simply seeking pleasure? Or perhaps preparing sacrifices for their Creator?"
She surveyed the entire hall and discovered there were five such radially patterned areas of flesh and blood in total. No wonder the woman who discovered the scene and the officers who rushed over all believed that the entire Plack family had died here, possibly including some unfortunate servants and butler.
Killing a family using such cruel methods—apart from seeking revenge or being naturally deranged, she couldn't think of other possibilities.
"Perhaps there are other possibilities, such as ritual requirements, or conducting some kind of misdirection."
Leonard added. He crouched beside the nearest corpse, frowning as he searched the area, finding several cloth fragments, a string of copper keys, and several torn pieces of paper.
"Can't find any useful clues. These are just blank notes. It seems we can only wait for Old Neil to arrive." After examining the blood-soaked papers and finding no text on them, Leonard could only stand again and turn to face Angel.
"You did very well, instructing that officer in advance to summon Old Neil to the scene. It seems you've learned quickly during this period."
"I have a feeling you completely forgot."
Mercilessly pointing this out, Angel watched Leonard show a trace of embarrassment before continuing: "So are we going to keep waiting, or should we search the other rooms?"
"Let's examine the other rooms first. There might be other victims, additional clues, or..."
Or the murderer might still be here?
Although Angel felt this possibility was extremely slim, she still instinctively touched the gun holster at her waist.
The two carefully navigated around the remains on the ground. To avoid leaving bloody footprints in other locations that would interfere with the subsequent investigation, they also wiped the blood from their shoes on the expensive carpet.
"Hehe... remember that these are our footprints here, so Old Neil won't discover our tracks all over the scene when he conducts his divination."
Leonard suddenly made this teasing remark, even dry-laughing a few times after saying it.
"Your sense of humor is as excellent as your self-composed poetry."
Pulling at the corners of her mouth, Angel ultimately couldn't bring herself to humor his cold joke against her better judgment.