Chapter 104: Puzzle

  The air around the apartment complex was thick, suffocatingly heavy with a tension that seemed to press against the skin. The pungent, cloying scent of decay that had first assaulted them in the hallway now drifted down to the street, a grim perfume that made the passersby hasten their steps and cover their mouths.

  City guards, their uniforms crisp brown against the weathered wood of the building, had swarmed the scene with efficient, practiced speed. They formed a blockade at the foot of the stairs, their spears crossed, a silent, unyielding barrier against the curious eyes of the gathering crowd. Upstairs, the heavy tread of boots and the low murmur of voices signaled the grim work of documenting the dead.

  On a wooden bench across the street, Malik sat hunched over, his face pale and clammy. He clutched a canteen of water with white-knuckled desperation, taking gulp after gulp as if trying to wash the image of the hanging tortoise Sacred from his mind.

  "It's okay, Malik. Just breathe," Samira murmured, rubbing circles on his back. Her usual boundless energy was dimmed, replaced by a quiet, protective concern.

  Raito and Yukari stood nearby, leaning against a lamppost. Raito's deerstalker hat was pulled low, shadowing his eyes, while Yukari watched the guards with a grim, thoughtful expression.

  "Hey, kids!"

  A gruff voice called out from down the street. Tanvir strode toward them, his barrel chest heaving slightly as if he had run part of the way. Beside him, matching his hurried pace with effortless grace, was Zhu Lihua.

  "It seems like you guys made some really serious discovery," Tanvir said, his voice lacking its usual bluster. His eyes darted to the guarded doorway, his expression darkening.

  Zhu ignored the building for a moment, her fiery eyes locking onto her stepdaughter. She reached out, her hand hovering near Yukari's arm before settling for a gentle squeeze. "Are you alright, Linlin?"

  "Yeah," Yukari replied, though her voice was tight. She crossed her arms, a subconscious defensive gesture. "But we were just at the wrong place at the wrong time, I think. He was already dead when we got here."

  "A locked room murder," Raito muttered, his voice a low, contemplative growl. He tapped his unlit pipe against his chin, his gaze fixed on the third-floor window. "The door was locked from the inside. The windows were shut. No other exits." He straightened up, adjusting his cape. "I need to get back up there."

  "Enough playing around, boy!" Tanvir snapped, stepping into Raito's path. His hand, thick and calloused, landed heavily on Raito's shoulder. "Someone just got murdered—or maybe it's suicide, we don't know yet. This isn't a game. This detective play of yours is not welcomed right now."

  Raito looked up, ready to argue, to explain the nuances of deduction, but the raw seriousness in Tanvir's eyes stopped him.

  "Sir Tanvir!"

  A young guard jogged down the stairs, his face pale, holding a piece of folded parchment with trembling fingers. He stopped before the museum director, saluting hastily.

  "What is it?" Tanvir asked, releasing Raito.

  "A note, sir," the guard said, his voice hushed. "We found it on the victim's desk. It was... prominent."

  He passed the note to Tanvir.

  Tanvir took it, his brow furrowing as he unfolded the paper. "Let's see..."

  Quiet as a shadow, Raito slipped behind the broad man, peering around his arm to get a look at the script.

  The handwriting was shaky, erratic, as if written by a hand that could barely hold the quill. But the message was clear.

  It's my fault. Everything is my fault. What I did is unforgivable. I started the fire. I can't live with this shame any longer. I need to go.

  "Well, would you look at that," Tanvir said, his voice heavy with a grim finality. He folded the note, tucking it into his vest pocket. "He started the fire. Ran away, which is why he was missing when we tried to run out of the museum. Came back here, contemplated his decision, and decided to hang himself."

  He let out a long, weary sigh, shaking his head. "Unfortunate. But case closed, I guess."

  "Is it really that simple?" Raito pondered aloud, his voice cutting through Tanvir's summation like a sharp knife.

  Tanvir turned, his thick eyebrows knitting together. "Anything you want to say, boy?"

  "Remember, the fire," Raito said, his gaze intense. "It was almost alive. It had its own will. It was strong enough that it couldn't be controlled by a Lord—by Lady Lihua." He gestured towards the War Empress. "Would a normal museum guard like Mr. Tseh have the ability to conjure something like that?"

  Tanvir opened his mouth to retort, but Raito pressed on, his detective persona slipping slightly to reveal the sharp, analytical mind beneath.

  "Besides," Raito continued, pointing a gloved finger at the building, "if he really felt sorry, why didn't he confess? Why just immediately head home and hang himself? It feels... rushed. Convenient." He adjusted his hat. "I really need to get up there. Something is amiss."

  Without waiting for permission, Raito spun on his heel and bolted for the stairs, his cape billowing behind him.

  "Hey! Boy! ARGHHHH!" Tanvir roared, his face flushing red. He spun to Yukari.

  Yukari held up her hands in surrender. "Don't look at me. Even I can't control that idiot when he gets like this."

  Raito moved fast, ducking under the arms of surprised guards and leaping over the security tape. He took the stairs two at a time, his boots thudding on the wood. Moments later, he was back at the open doorway of Room 303b.

  The body had been taken down. It lay on a gurney in the hallway, covered by a white sheet that did little to hide the bloated shape beneath. The smell was still overpowering, a thick, sweet rot that clung to the back of the throat.

  Raito didn't hesitate. He approached the gurney, his face set in a grim line. He lifted the edge of the sheet.

  "Sorry, Mr. Tseh," he whispered.

  He scanned the body. There was the obvious, angry purple mark around the neck from the rope. But Raito looked closer, lifting the cold, stiff arms.

  There.

  On the shoulder. Under the armpits. Around the wrists. Faint, reddish-purple bruises in the shape of fingers. Defensive wounds? Struggle marks? Or marks from being held down?

  "Odd," he murmured, letting the sheet fall back.

  "HEY, BOY!"

  Tanvir's shout echoed up the stairwell. The director appeared at the top of the landing, panting heavily, his face a mask of fury.

  "This is a crime scene!" he bellowed, marching down the hall. "What are you doing desecrating it?! Let the professionals handle it!"

  He reached out, his massive hand aiming to grab Raito's wrist and haul him away.

  "Wait," Raito said calmly.

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  He stepped sideways, slipping into the apartment room just as Tanvir's hand grasped empty air.

  "You little—!" Tanvir growled, stumbling.

  Raito ignored him, his eyes scanning the small, one-bedroom apartment. It was surprisingly nice—cleaner and better furnished than his own place back in Jinlun. He moved quickly, his mind cataloging details.

  Window. Locked. No sign of forced entry or glass shards.

  Table. Two glasses of water, half-empty. One sitting near a chair, the other across from it.

  "A guest?" Raito thought. "If so, who was it?"

  He moved to the desk where the note had been found. It was tidy. Too tidy. He opened the drawers one by one. Official documents, pay stubs, a few personal letters.

  "No charcoal pencil," he muttered, rifling through the papers. "No inkwell. No quill." He picked up a stack of documents, scanning the paper quality. "And none of this paper matches the note."

  He dropped the papers back onto the desk. "A fake, huh?"

  SMACK.

  A sharp, stinging pain exploded on the back of his head.

  "Ow!" Raito yelped, clutching his skull.

  Tanvir stood behind him, standing on a chair to reach Raito's height, his hand raised for another smack.

  "What was that for?!" Raito demanded.

  "Enough!" Tanvir barked. "We are going down! You are bothering the guards!"

  Without another word, Tanvir hopped down from the chair, grabbed Raito around the waist, and hoisted him over his shoulder like a sack of grain.

  "Hey! Put me down! I'm the investigator!" Raito protested, kicking his legs uselessly.

  "You're a nuisance!" Tanvir grunted, carrying him out of the room.

  But as he was being carried past the small kitchenette, something caught Raito's eye. A small, framed picture sitting on a shelf.

  It showed a younger Mr. Tseh, smiling broadly, standing in front of the pristine museum. And standing next to him, looking equally happy, was a young girl with vibrant green hair.

  Tanvir marched down the stairs, his boots shaking the wooden frame of the building, until he reached the street level. With a heavy grunt, he tossed Raito onto the dusty ground like a sack of rice.

  "Oof!" Raito hit the dirt, rolling once before coming to a stop at Yukari's feet. He sat up, dusting off his tweed jacket and checking his hat. "Ow! Can you be more gentle?"

  "That is for ignoring me and being a nuisance!" Tanvir barked, crossing his massive arms over his chest. He glared down at the young detective. "I know the King gave you authority to investigate, but that was a mistake. You're interfering with protocol!"

  Raito ignored him completely. He scrambled to his feet, adjusting his cape with a sharp tug, and turned immediately to Malik, who was sitting on the bench, looking a little less green than before.

  "Hey, Wang-Son," Raito began, his voice serious, the playful detective persona momentarily set aside for the sake of urgency. "Do you know if there is someone with green hair amongst the scholars? Or maybe staff?"

  Malik blinked, startled by the sudden question. He pushed his glasses up his nose, thinking. "Huh? Green hair?" He shook his head slowly. "Unfortunately, no. Green hair is very noticeable, especially in Zarateph. There is no way I would miss something like that."

  "Is that so?" Raito murmured, tapping his chin. "How about family? Do you know if any of the scholars—or Mr. Tseh—had family with green hair?"

  Malik looked apologetic. "Sorry, Sir Raito. Once again, I am not that close to their families. I only know them professionally."

  "That's fine," Raito said, clapping a hand onto Malik's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Good job, Wang-Son."

  "Oh... uh, thank you?" Malik stammered, looking even more puzzled than before.

  Raito spun around, his eyes locking onto the imposing figure of the War Empress. "Lady Lihua! While you are here, can I have a favor?"

  Zhu Lihua raised an eyebrow, her arms still crossed. "What is it, boy?"

  "Yukari," Raito said, turning to his wife. "Bring that out."

  Yukari hesitated. "Okay, okay," she whispered, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out the small, translucent crystal they had found in the ashes. "But... you said we should keep it a secret. We agreed."

  "Since Mother-in-law..." Raito started.

  Zhu’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

  "I mean... since Lady Lihua is here," Raito corrected himself quickly, sweating slightly, "I figured we can tell her. It's for my own curiosity as well."

  "Curiosity?" Yukari questioned, holding the crystal tight.

  "Yeah," Raito nodded. "Give the crystal to her."

  Yukari sighed, relenting. "Okay... here you go, Mother." She placed the small, colorless stone into Zhu's gloved palm.

  "Now," Raito said, stepping back to give them space. "Lady Lihua, can you channel your fire energy into that crystal?"

  "What experiment is this?" Tanvir asked, poking his head out from behind Raito, his anger momentarily replaced by intrigue.

  Zhu looked at the dull stone in her hand, then at Raito's expectant face. "Sure, I guess," she responded.

  She closed her eyes for a second. A faint shimmer of heat distorted the air around her hand as she channeled her elemental energy into the object.

  The reaction was instant.

  The translucent, colorless crystal began to glow. A soft light built within its core, spreading outwards, transforming the dull glass-like surface. The color shifted, deepening, saturating, until the entire crystal was pulsing with a brilliant, vibrant crimson red.

  The group's eyes widened in unison.

  "Just as I thought," Raito whispered, a grim satisfaction settling on his face.

  "What does that mean? And what is this?" Tanvir asked, his eyes wide as he stared at the glowing red stone in Zhu's hand.

  "This is a battery," Raito explained, gesturing to the crystal. "Something that absorbs elemental energy and then releases it on a trigger. It's a recent, groundbreaking technology. I saw some of it in Mr. Zhang's warehouse back in Jinlun."

  "Ah," Yukari said, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "Just like those used in Volnear. Who was it... Doctor... Doctor Wilburt was the one who made it."

  "Hmm..." Zhu commented, turning the pulsing crystal over in her fingers. "Jinlun did import many of these from Volnear for their new lighting system. But they certainly don't look like this. This one feels... rougher."

  "Yeah," Raito nodded. "This one seems homemade. Whoever the culprit is, the person is someone who has access to Volnear technology, understands how to manipulate it, and possibly has a very deep connection to Mr. Tseh."

  "Wait, wait, wait," Tanvir barked, shaking his head as if trying to clear it. "What are you trying to say, boy?" He looked genuinely confused.

  Raito met his gaze, his expression deadly serious. "I'm saying, the one who started the fire and the one who murdered Mr. Tseh are the same person."

  "But Tseh hung himself!" Tanvir insisted, pointing toward the apartment building. "You saw the note!"

  "That note was fake," Raito countered immediately. "That kind of paper doesn't exist anywhere in Mr. Tseh's apartment. I checked."

  He began to pace, his detective persona blending with his own sharp mind. "My current theory is that the culprit was invited by Mr. Tseh inside, judging from the two water glasses on the table. This happened two days ago."

  He held up a finger. "From the condition of Mr. Tseh's body—the bruises on his shoulders and wrists—there was a scuffle. But it was strange. Mr. Tseh was surprised. This culprit seems to have a deep connection with him."

  "How did you know that?" Malik asked, scribbling furiously in his notebook.

  "Mr. Tseh has marks on his shoulder, armpit, and wrist," Raito explained, miming the struggle. "But none on his knuckles. None on his fingers. Not even a chipped fingernail. That means Mr. Tseh held back. He didn't fight with the intent to harm. He was taken aback by the identity of the culprit."

  Raito lowered his hands. "The culprit strangled Mr. Tseh to death, and then used the hanging to camouflage the marks on his neck. Just like the paint at the museum used to hide the hole. Then, the culprit, in a hurry, wrote the suicide note because Mr. Tseh's death was unplanned."

  "Wow," Samira clapped softly, her eyes wide with impressed horror. "But... what about the noisy door the neighbor mentioned? Shouldn't the neighbor have heard the culprit leave?"

  "The culprit entered through the front door," Raito said, a dark look crossing his face. "But left through the window."

  "What?" Tanvir frowned, looking up at the third-floor window. "But the window is locked. The guards checked it, you checked it. How could someone who left from the window lock it from the inside?"

  "That part is also what I wanted to figure out," Raito said, side-eyeing Tanvir with a pointed look. "But someone dragged me down here before I could finish my investigation."

  "Well, sorry," Tanvir muttered, crossing his arms defensively.

  "Sir Tanvir," the guard from earlier called out, approaching them again. He wiped his forehead with a sleeve. "We are done with the full inspection. Will you be coming with us to headquarters?"

  "Yeah, in a while," Tanvir said, waving him off again. "Gotta deal with these kids first."

  "Hey, wait!" Raito jumped in, grabbing the guard's attention. "Did you find anything odd while sweeping through the crime scene? Anything at all near the window?"

  "Odd?" The guard looked confused. "Not that I know of." He paused, rubbing his chin. "Oh, wait. Now that you mention it... there was a weird residue left on the window latch. A sort of sticky, clear slime. But we still don't know what that is."

  Raito’s eyes lit up. "Weird residue, huh?" He snapped a sharp salute. "Thank you, Officer!"

  The guard nodded back, bewildered, and left to join his unit.

  "Hehe," Yukari teased, jabbing Raito in the ribs with her elbow. "You found your answer, haven't you?"

  "Yup," Raito grinned, adjusting his deerstalker hat with a flourish. "But I need extra evidence. The picture is becoming clearer!"

  "So where to now, Sir Detective?" Samira asked, a bright smile lighting up her face.

  Raito pointed his unlit pipe down the street, striking a dramatic pose. "Of course! Interviewing the possible suspects, my dear Ai-Ling!"

  He spun to the scholar, who was still trying to process the information overload. "Wang-Son! Lead me to them!"

  Malik gulped, looking terrified at the prospect of interrogating his colleagues. Before he could protest, Samira grabbed his arm and hauled him up from the bench.

  "Aye aye, sir!" Samira saluted, practically vibrating with energy.

  Yukari tapped Raito's shoulder, grinning mischievously. She didn't say a word, just looked at him.

  Raito sighed, his shoulders slumping. He crouched down slightly, bracing himself.

  "Good boy," Yukari said, hopping onto his back for a piggyback ride, her crutch held behind her like a lance.

  "Let's go!" Raito declared, though his voice strained under the weight.

  The group marched off down the street—the energetic princess dragging the reluctant scholar, and the detective carrying his invalid assistant—leaving Tanvir standing alone on the sidewalk.

  "Yeah, they ignored you again," Zhu Lihua commented dryly, not even looking at him.

  "ARGH!!!!" Tanvir shouted at the heavens, his frustration echoing through the streets of Kah-Kamun.