The Crown Prince Who Raises Alt Characters

#Chapter 157: Suspect Isaac - The Female Detective of Crime Street The street where the moon hid behind clouds was terribly dark. The path he needed to take was not clearly visible, but even so, the man continued moving forward. "Huff, huff." His breathing was terribly rough, and sweat continued flowing from his body. Yet he didn't feel the heat. Rather, a terrible chill was enveloping him. It was due to blood loss. Two wrists and two ankles. Maliciously carved wounds were continuously stealing the evidence of life from within his body. The pain was gradually disappearing, but the man was actually more afraid of that. Because the moment this pain completely disappeared would be none other than his end. "Damn it, damn it, why the hell! What did I do!" To hold onto his constantly fading consciousness, the man continuously spat out curses. It was unfair. No matter how much he thought about it, he had no reason to suffer like this. If justice existed in this world, then a helping hand must surely come down to such a virtuous citizen. That would be right. Thud—something caught at his feet. Before he could even regain his balance, the man's body rolled on the ground. Dizziness overwhelmed him more than pain. In his fading consciousness, he felt someone approaching his side. The man squeezed out his last bit of strength and grabbed the other person's ankle. Save me, the man cried out. No, he tried to cry out. But what actually leaked from his mouth was just a sound like air escaping. The pain disappeared. The cold also disappeared. Death came. *** The streets of Chaudronbourg were extremely bustling. Dark red blood scattered as if coloring the gray alleyway. White lines marking the position where the victim had fallen. The mobilized police were controlling the residents to prevent them from approaching the crime scene, but they couldn't suppress the words leaking from the residents' mouths. "Oh, how terrible. Another vampire...?" "How many people is this now? It's too scary to walk around at night." "Be careful, they say if you touch the blood, you'll be targeted as the vampire's next victim!" Perhaps having overheard the residents' words, some of the police cleaning up the scene hesitated nervously in their actions. "Hey you bastards! Aren't you going to control this properly!?" Perhaps displeased with his juniors' behavior, a man who seemed to hold a fairly high position irritably raised his voice. When the man, who seemed to have "I have a temper" written on his face, glared with his eyes, the police officers who met his gaze began trembling and moving quickly. "Anyway, they're so damn scared..." "Well, isn't that a good thing in its own way? They say cowards live longer than the brave." At the voice heard right beside him, the man's body stiffened. The man felt like ignoring this forever, but he couldn't just leave alone someone who was examining the crime scene with eyes shining with interest. Inspector Jean-Pierre Moreau, a veteran investigator seasoned at crime scenes, spoke almost growling. "Can't you see we're controlling the area? What right does a civilian have to just waltz in here?" "Ahaha, civilian? That's funny." As if Pierre's words were an amusing joke, the other party giggled. She was a woman with a youthful appearance as pure and clear as her innocent laughter. Brilliant golden hair without equal. Blue eyes reminiscent of jewels. If dressed in a gown and brought to a party hall, she had the beauty to receive dance invitations from countless men, but what she actually wore was far from a dress. The leather coat and deerstalker wrapped the woman's body firmly like a knight's armor and helmet, and the pipe tobacco in her mouth was puffing smoke as if it wasn't merely decorative. "I also came here at the chief's request, you know? Is it okay to treat someone your workplace superior invited like this?" The inspector's face grew red with embarrassment and anger. "...We've already secured a prime suspect for this case. There's no opportunity for some fancy detective to step in!" "Well, that's something we can find out from now on." The woman who made a light snort silently looked around the crime scene. After checking the blood stains scattered on the ground and the state of the corpse covered with white cloth, she soon spoke to Inspector Pierre. "So, where is the suspect? I'd also like to examine the victim's body while we're at it." *** Chaudronbourg. This place, which means "Village of the Cauldron" in Cardian, was an industrial city boasting technology among the finest in the republic. In this place that could be defined by gas, steam, and gears, all kinds of technologies were being developed constantly regardless of whether they used mana or not, and it was notorious for frequent incidents and accidents as much as its excellent technology. Bang!! "Confess honestly! You killed him!" Therefore, one couldn't necessarily conclude that the detective of Chaudronbourg's rough treatment of the suspect was due to his immature and filthy character. Originally, when people are plagued by pressure from above and continuous overtime, their faces naturally develop wrinkles and their speech becomes crude. To the detective who was applying pressure by slamming the desk hard, the suspect answered with a shrug. "So I've told you how many times. I just heard a strange sound in the middle of the night and approached that direction, and some person was lying there collapsed. I approached wondering if they were okay, and that person suddenly grabbed my ankle out of nowhere, and while I was trying to shake it off, I was spotted by a patrolling police officer and got arrested like that." "Your clothes had blood on them, and the victim was holding onto your ankle even while dying. Didn't you get caught while trying to run away after having a physical fight with the victim and getting your leg grabbed?" "No. To begin with, I was seeing that person for the first time today, so I have no motive to kill or anything at all." "That's something we can't know. It could have been for money, or there might have been a grudge." "Ha, really now." The detective's attitude was clearly treating the suspect as the culprit for anyone to see. This was actually unavoidable. Although the concept of scientific investigation had been introduced as a result of the numerous reforms taking place in the republic, until just a few years ago, "arrest suspicious people first" and "circumstantial evidence over physical evidence" were the essence of investigation. Of course, this was a rule that didn't apply if there were influential people behind the other party or if they themselves were influential, but at least for this suspect, there was no such concern. A foreigner from Ravelocia, a small country in central continent. Not a noble. No family. No local connections. He was truly like someone with a sign around his neck saying "no consequences for messing with me." "It would be better to confess while we're talking nicely and gentlemanly. Otherwise, in prison—" "Yes, yes, wait a moment." A high-pitched voice that suddenly interrupted. The detective made an unpleasant expression at the person who cut off his words, but soon confirmed the direction the voice came from and opened his eyes wide. A blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman examining the suspect's every detail with a face full of curiosity. And behind her, Inspector Pierre with his arms crossed, observing the situation with apparent displeasure. "In-Inspector Pierre? Didn't you go to review the scene?" "...Tsk, somehow it turned out that way." At the dissatisfaction clearly contained in Inspector Pierre's voice, the detective tactfully kept quiet instead of asking about the situation in detail. Regardless, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed woman looked the suspect up and down from various angles, then asked the detective. "Since being discovered at the scene, has the suspect changed clothes or stopped anywhere else?" "No, we brought him straight here as soon as he was discovered and had him wait in the cell, then began the investigation in earnest after dawn when personnel were deployed..." "Does this person live somewhere like a detached house?" "No, he entered the city the day before yesterday, and we confirmed he's currently staying at an inn." "Then it's decided. This person isn't the culprit." "What?" The detective made a dumbfounded expression, and Inspector Pierre's eyebrows twitched. "The wounds on the victim's body. Those wounds that slashed both wrists and ankles were very clean. They induced bleeding while ensuring the person wouldn't die quickly. In other words, these weren't made during a struggle, but wounds inflicted after depriving the victim of consciousness by some means. Naturally, this wasn't an impulsive crime but a planned one, and various preparations would be needed to carry it out. Specifically, a space where one could work without worrying about others' eyes." "You can't conclude he's not the culprit based on that alone. One can avoid others' eyes in spaces other than home, and more importantly, the culprit deliberately let the victim go, right? So couldn't he have woken the victim somewhere other than his own house, then deliberately pursued him while enjoying perverted tastes?" "Good point, Inspector Pierre. However, in that case, the same type of traces should remain on both the victim's and suspect's shoes. But while the victim's shoes and pants have traces of passing through grassland, the suspect doesn't have any such traces." "There's no rule that they must have taken the same route. If he predicted the route in advance and was waiting ahead—" "That's too many variables from the culprit's perspective. What if the victim had succeeded in quickly asking for help from someone else? Or what if the victim had tried to hide in an unexpected place to treat their wounds? Whether from a hobbyist or practical standpoint, the culprit would have had to keep observing the victim." Inspector Pierre's face frowned and his mouth closed. As for the detective who had been interrogating the suspect initially, he was just standing there with his mouth agape, not knowing what was going on. "This suspect is an outsider, so his motive for committing a planned crime against the victim is weak, he doesn't have the physical conditions, and the physical evidence is also insufficient. Do we need to say more?" "...Tsk. Fine. Release him." "In-Inspector? But..." "Isn't this the esteemed person our chief favors? But you know what. You'd better keep this in mind, detective." Inspector Pierre brought his face close to the woman's face, then spoke while glaring. "Maintaining this city's security is our police's job. Don't think you can keep playing at investigation like this forever." Despite the rough threat, the woman only calmly shrugged her shoulders. "Yes, yes. I understand. Anyway, this was just a brief stop because they asked from above, and I have no intention of getting involved further, so handle it yourselves. Oh, suspect? You should come out quickly too. You might get scolded by the scary inspector if you stay here for no reason." "Hmm. Is it okay for me to leave?" The suspect asked the detective, and the detective, who had been watching the inspector's mood, carefully nodded. The two people emerged outside the police station. "Well then, I'll be going now. This city has so many criminal incidents that the police response is quite irritable, so I'd recommend going somewhere else if possible. Well then." "Please wait a moment." "Yes?" When the woman tilted her head at the sudden restraint, the suspect chose his words for a moment before speaking. "Um, are you by any chance a detective?" "I am, but why do you ask?" "My name is Isaac. I came to this city looking for work. But perhaps because I'm an outsider, there's no place that shows a good response. Even though it ended as a failed case, I was even arrested by the police, so finding work will probably become even harder now." "That would be the case. But is there a reason you're telling me this?" "Would you consider hiring someone? Though I may not look it, I'm skilled at physical work and various odd jobs." "Aha." The woman nodded as if she finally understood the purpose. And her answer was. "No." "Isn't there any way it could work?" "No. What would I trust about you to do something like hiring?" "Couldn't you trust your own eyes and deductive ability?" "Now I see you have incredibly thick skin! That the employer—me—should handle the review and take responsibility myself? Are you such an outstanding talent?" "I've never been told I'm bad at my job anywhere I've gone." "My, how confident you are." The woman snorted sarcastically, then blew out deep smoke from her pipe before speaking. "Fine. I'll evaluate that enthusiasm and give you one chance. Actually, there's a flaw in the logic I used to save you earlier. If you can figure out what it is—" "—It would be meaningless if I could handle supernatural abilities like sword aura or magic. Isn't that right? Your reasoning presupposes that the culprit would be an 'ordinary human.'" The woman's movements stopped. She rolled her eyes around for a moment, then let out what sounded like a sigh. "Fine. Isaac, was it? Evaluating that shamelessness, persistence, thick skin, and slight competence, I'll specially grant you the position of temporary assistant. From now on, call me Detective." "Understood, Detective. Additionally, may I ask your name?" "Isadora." Along with thick tobacco smoke, the detective declared. "Isadora Delacroix."