Chapter 86: City of Death

In the early morning hours over Blackwater city, a small carriage rolled through the city gates, a branded insignia painted neatly across its side reading:

Fortune Investigators.

The wheels rattled softly against the worn cobblestone as the guards at the gate barely glanced up, waving the carriage through with the same practiced disinterest they’d shown every similar group over the past several weeks.

Given the ongoing string of "murders," a steady influx of investigators had continued flooding into the city over the past several weeks, each new group convinced they might succeed where the others before them had failed, arriving with confident expressions that inevitably dulled after a few frustrating days chasing leads that went nowhere.

The city lord had even posted a substantial reward for anyone capable of finally resolving the case. By this point, watching a fresh group of investigators pass through the gates had become an entirely ordinary sight, barely worth a second glance from the guards stationed there.

This was precisely the disguise Ethan and the rest relied on to slip into the city entirely undetected, blending seamlessly into a pattern the city had already grown numb to, one more forgettable carriage among dozens that had rolled through these same gates over recent weeks.

The moment they cleared the gate, they made their way directly toward the Warden’s office.

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"Good day."

The group of four stepped out from their carriage one after another, dressed in an unusual set of robes, split neatly down the middle in a style clearly meant to signal their claimed profession.

"How may we help you?"

At the front desk, an older man from the Warden’s office lifted his head, meeting their gazes with tired, practiced patience.

"We’re here representing the Fortune Investigation Company regarding the string of murders in the city. May we speak with a constable, or the Warden directly?"

Ethan spoke calmly, his tone measured and carrying just enough authority to distinguish him from the usual walk-in inquiries.

The Warden’s office functioned much like a central police station, overseeing matters relating to public safety across every major city within the kingdom. If information existed anywhere about the ongoing murders, this was undeniably the right place to start.

"There’s a wait list. You’re not the first group of investigators to come through here. Two weeks minimum."

The old man responded flatly, his tone carrying no real arrogance, only exhaustion worn deep into every word.

These endless waves of investigators arriving one after another had become a constant, humiliating reminder of the office’s continued failure to resolve the case themselves. Yes, they hadn’t cracked it yet. Did that really warrant having it rubbed in their faces every few days by another eager group convinced they’d succeed where trained officers hadn’t, most of whom left within a week just as empty-handed as everyone before them?

"I’m afraid that won’t work for us."

Ethan sighed, reaching into his coat and sliding a small badge across the counter toward the old man.

The moment his eyes landed on it, the old man’s expression shifted sharply, his frown dissolving into something closer to alarm as his eyes widened.

He’d seen this exact badge once before, months earlier, under circumstances he still hadn’t fully forgotten, memories that resurfaced instantly with the same cold weight they’d carried the first time.

Punishment Badge.

"Please, come with me."

Realizing exactly who he was dealing with, the old man abandoned whatever he’d been working on immediately, rising quickly and leading the group deeper into the building without further delay.

Before Ethan and the rest fully registered how quickly things had shifted, they found themselves standing directly before the city’s Warden.

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"You’re from the Punishment Hall?"

The Warden, a man who appeared to be somewhere in his middle years, wore rimmed glasses and a crisp, professional uniform that suggested decades of careful discipline.

None of them confirmed or denied the assumption outright.

But the old man beside him already knew.

"Old Wen, provide them with anything they need. That includes lodging, and a full, comprehensive briefing on the entire situation."

The Warden let out a visible sigh of relief, turning toward the older officer standing beside him.

The private investigators flooding into the city had all been operating far outside their actual capabilities, a fact only he and a select few within the office had truly understood from the beginning, watching each new arrival with quiet, weary skepticism they’d never voiced aloud. Now, finally, people with real capability to solve this had arrived.

He intended to throw the office’s full weight and resources behind supporting them completely.

"Right away, sir."

The old officer bowed deeply, straightened into a sharp salute, and hurried off immediately to begin making the necessary arrangements.

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At the same time, elsewhere in the city, a small group of individuals that Ethan would have recognized instantly, had he been present, moved quietly through a cramped market stall, purchasing an assortment of unusual materials.

"You guys must be up to some pretty freaky stuff, haha. Don’t go summoning an evil god on us now."

The shopkeeper, running a modest stall tucked beneath a narrow crossing bridge, offered a nervous laugh as he wrapped up their purchases.

In truth, he’d grown increasingly uneasy selling to this particular group. They’d returned repeatedly over the past several days, each visit bringing another round of strange, oddly specific requests that didn’t fit any ordinary ritual he was familiar with, ingredients that made him wonder more than once whether he should simply refuse and send them elsewhere.

Honestly, something about the whole arrangement felt deeply out of place.

"Mind your own business, old man. People are dropping like flies lately."

One of the young men glanced up sharply at the merchant, a faint red glow flickering briefly across his eyes, and within seconds the shopkeeper’s expression went slack, his gaze glazing over as he slipped quietly into a trance.

By the time he finally came back to himself, the group had already vanished entirely, and he found he couldn’t recall a single detail about them at all.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​