Wind bell herb, a type of herb from the Land of Abundance. According to those scholars’ records, it is also known by another, more familiar na: mandrake. But in fact, these two herbs are not the sa at all. Mandrake is a common hallucinogen used as an anesthetic by the local natives and is now one of the components in the rampant hallucinogen in the Lower City District.
Lorenzo’s cigarette is rolled with wind bell herb, which is different from the common mandrake. This herb is a "spirit dium" carefully cultivated by local wizards, who believe that consuming this herb can build a bridge to the unknown, serving as a dium for touching the mysterious. They usually use this to communicate with the dead.
The technology of steam is so advanced that the tales of ghost gods have long been forgotten, but there are still so exiled people of the old era who firmly believe in these.
Lorenzo also discovered this effect in an ancient book, and later, with Bola’s help, he obtained so from smugglers. Initially, he tried it out with a mindset of giving it a shot, but after so many investigations, Lorenzo found that this thing indeed has so effect.
What he saw wasn’t just simple hallucinations; part of it was real, and it was this real part that Lorenzo needed.
The lights went out one by one, and in the darkness, the cold air beca humid. Lorenzo slled the scent of seawater again, countless raindrops fell on the deck, and he returned to that ship.
In the darkness, the corpse slowly wriggled; it ca back to life. The glow of the cigarette’s fire was not that bright, yet everything in the darkness was so clear; Lorenzo quietly watched.
The intestines began to contract until only a small portion of the stomach and intestines were left. The bones started to twist and deform, as the past growth stretched the fragile skin. One could clearly see the dark red blood vessels beneath it.
A hoarse voice emanated from that shriveled throat, like a wail before a tragic death.
It was a scene that could instill fear, yet Lorenzo didn’t care. He seed to have no emotion of fear.
The cigarette had burned halfway.
The wind bell herb connected him to that eerie world, and the ti the tobacco burned was the ti he could stay in this world of the dead.
Not enough, it’s not enough yet.
Suddenly, the sensation of being watched surged into his mind, so familiar, just like in the carriage when there was sothing that had been watching him in the darkness. Lorenzo sharply turned his head, trying to find that bizarre figure in the darkness, but the next second, the twisted body with a strong scent of blood knocked him down.
It was Wol, or rather, Wol’s corpse.
It knocked Lorenzo off the chair, pressing him down with force, sharp claws clutching his skull tightly. The ribs opened like a predator’s maw, clamping Lorenzo with dried blood.
Look at !
It seed as if a voice sounded, and in his eyes was that hideous face, filled with imnse pain, while in the pupils, a murky blackness lingered, yet amidst it, a faint green light erged.
The body was wracked with severe pain, but Lorenzo didn’t care. He stared straight into those eyes, and in the reflection of complete darkness, he finally saw a part of the truth.
It was a lighthouse rising in the eerie green light.
...
The cigarette finally burned out, and light returned to the world.
Lorenzo seed to awaken from hibernation, his movents stiff and his eyes bewildered. Releasing his hand, the cigarette butt fell, and he sat in the chair in a daze for a long ti before coming back to himself.
This is the side effect after consuming; each ti it ends, Lorenzo is temporarily like a moron.
Everything felt dreamlike and illusory. Wol’s corpse hadn’t co back to life, still lying quietly in front of him, and he hadn’t been knocked down, still sitting securely as if everything so real just now was a hallucination, even though the pain was so vivid.
It’s a hallucination, but also a reality,
like the last scene he saw, the lighthouse.
Lorenzo couldn’t determine what kind of role the lighthouse played in this case, but at least now he had a rough idea.
The bizarre body and the lighthouse.
Slowly standing up, the stiffness still lingered, making him uncomfortable, which might also be one of the wind bell herb’s side effects. Initially, this moronic state was brief, but with frequent use, it lasted longer and longer.
Perhaps in a few days he could find that poor Director Buscalo for a physical examination. After all, as a director, he might be able to save much trouble, right?
After finishing all this, it was ti to leave, but at that mont, the sound of a bullet being chambered echoed.
"Hands up!"
Eve raised the gun in her hand, aiming the muzzle at Lorenzo.
From a young age, Eve’s intuition had always been keen, and this ti was no exception. In that mist, she felt soone pass by her, unable to resist the weirdness in her heart, and she finally caught this sneaky person here.
"Detective, what happened?"
Turning around, Lorenzo’s expression was impeccable, with a hint of calm amidst the panic, just like a good citizen misunderstood by the police.
Old Dunling was a lting pot of different classes, and as a detective mixing within it, Lorenzo had to know a little of everything.
"What are you doing?"
Eve was a rookie; this was her first ti pointing a gun at soone. Looking at Lorenzo’s expression, she truly felt for a mont that she might have misunderstood him.
"This is my nephew; he was murdered this morning, and I’m just overco with grief..."
Lorenzo said, covering his face.
Eve stepped closer, still not letting down her guard.
"Your nephew... is a Viking?"
The corpse’s appearance was hard to discern, but that beloved Viking braid was still hanging on the corpse’s head.
Lorenzo’s sobs halted, and Eve saw the naplate on the iron cabinet—it was the case she was responsible for.
All remaining sympathy vanished, and Eve said coldly.
"Sir, you might need to co with ."
The atmosphere beca awkward for a mont.
Lorenzo had once secretly infiltrated the Royal Academy of Arts. To deceive others by entering roles seamlessly, he had studied in the drama departnt for over a year. Initially, everyone thought he was a passing tourist, then an auditor, a student, until finally even the professors recognized this outstanding student nad Lorenzo, inviting him to perform at the Royal Opera House.
But this outstanding student suddenly vanished after a year. The professors searched through the records but found no trace of Lorenzo Hols. He seed to have disappeared into thin air—everyone rembered the talented young man, yet his na was absent from attendance lists and student records, like a ghost.
No matter how well he acted or how ticulous the fraud was, Lorenzo couldn’t deceive people with direct evidence. He smiled awkwardly.
On the surface, Eve looked serious, but inside, she was overjoyed. Indeed, this case had sothing peculiar; why else would soone secretly infiltrate to examine this insignificant corpse?
"Turn around!"
She threatened Lorenzo with the gun. He cooperated, slowly turning around. Eve lowered her gun and took out handcuffs, but in an instant, Lorenzo moved.
The wide, knee-length black coat swung vigorously, taking up most of Eve’s view. With one hand on the gun and the other holding the freshly retrieved handcuffs, the young detective obviously panicked and squeezed the trigger, but wielding the gun single-handedly, she couldn’t handle the recoil, and the bullet missed.
A big hole was shot into the black coat, followed by the dark muzzle protruding from underneath.
"Detective, don’t move."
Lorenzo held the Winchester, hand on the iron lever below, loading it.
The situation reversed instantly, leaving Eve staring blankly at everything.
Clearly for this newcor, the impact was quite significant; her very first case involved a notorious detective who had been lurking in Old Dunling, like putting a lamb and a hungry wolf together.
"This is the morgue, hardly anyone cos here. Even if I kill you, no one would know it was , understand?"
Eve nodded cooperatively. Even if she shot, she couldn’t match Lorenzo’s speed, not to ntion the damage—Lorenzo’s gun was evidently more threatening.
But soon, Eve realized sothing.
"Did you kill him?"
Though she hadn’t seen such a finely crafted shotgun, it was still essentially a shotgun, consistent with the gunshot wounds that killed Wol. Coupled with this mysterious person’s suspicious infiltration of the morgue, Eve was certain that the man before her was Wol’s murderer.
She should have brought Pres alongside. Even though, in this situation, what could Pres do?
"Don’t slander , detective; I’m a legitimate citizen of Ingwig."
Lorenzo was indeed speaking the truth, though his status was arranged by Bola. In these aspects, Bola was reliable; with enough money, he could get any status for you. Note, not forged, but officially recognized.
Lorenzo babbled nonsense while his mind was working frantically, contemplating the next move.
Similarly, Eve was thinking about what to do; she definitely didn’t want her first case to be her last.
But at that mont, translucent yellow liquid flowed beneath Lorenzo’s feet, with a strange sll wafting from outside the morgue.
"Detective, what do you think this is?"
Lorenzo suddenly spoke, looking down.
"I think it might be oil."
"I believe... you might be right."
As Lorenzo’s words fell, a surging fire ca pouring in from the morgue entrance, like a fla demon erging from Hell, its furious blaze igniting everything around. The morgue’s cold temperature rose sharply, becoming sweltering.
This was a desperate situation; only this door led to the way out, but now it was engulfed in flas, and the fire continued intensifying.
"What’s going on..."
At the last mont, Lorenzo pulled Eve away, preventing her from being devoured by the flas leaning against the door.
"It’s a clue."
The man’s voice carried a slightly sick excitent.
Eve looked aside; the fire lighted Lorenzo’s face, a greater fire burning in his eyes.
Indeed, Wol’s death attracted the attention of those people; they didn’t want the secrets within Wol’s corpse to be discovered, hence setting fire here.
"Detective, if you don’t want to die, co help."
Lorenzo said, kicking over the iron cabinets storing the bodies, which were stacked together and could be dismantled.
"What are you doing?"
Eve was sowhat baffled by his actions; despite the fire reaching him... he was still tussling with the Dead.
"Survive... you surely don’t want to be cremated here with these corpses, right?"
"You pile up, I pile up, together forever?"
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