Yellow Hotel, March 28th, 4:00 PM.
Yes… that should be it. And judging from the pattern, the same influence is spreading from person to person, covering the entire body, and gradually expanding outward until it reaches the point of origin—James's house.
That means the southern and eastern parts of the street will soon be affected before the corruption finally converges on the house itself, which lies to the north.
Calculating that, more than four hundred people may die.
But since neither of us has been affected yet, that means James can only come back at night. In that case, purifying the place right now would be useless. Sigh… I should go and inform the Captain.
...
Many thoughts flashed through Lumian's mind as he turned toward Derrick.
Derrick was still searching for any "hidden" clues.
Lumian activated his mystic eyes. Immediately, faint white silhouettes drifted around him as Lumian checked Derrick's "profile."
From what he perceived, Derrick was thirty-three years old and, rather surprisingly, had no health issues. He was also Phase 8. And, most surprisingly of all, his friendship "bar" was at fifty-one percent.
Seems I've finally managed to befriend Derrick, Lumian thought with a smile as he deactivated his mystic eyes.
Derrick finally finished his inspection and took a soft breath before speaking. "From the patterns, it seems these people died out of the person, farmiliar with me resentment, and the deathly aura is spreading rapidly."
Bingo! Lumian exclaimed inwardly. He didn't ask any further questions. Instead, he simply let out a sigh and turned toward the staircase.
"Let's go inform the Captain."
Lumian instinctively raised his collar and tidied his hair as he and Derrick began making their way downstairs.
Quickly, they descended the stairs, hailed a taxi, and were soon on their way to the police station.
Blackhead, No. 34 — near Birgy Police Station.
With the usual crimson hues spreading across the sky, Lumian and Derrick made their way through the station.
Under the secretary's direction, they proceeded toward the autopsy room.
They drew quite a few stares as they walked through the station. After all, this was only the second time the police station and the Faculty had worked together. Neither Lumian nor Derrick paid the attention any mind.
Before long, they arrived at a black door.
With a smile, Lumian placed his hand on the doorknob and turned back. "Mr. Derrick, you can still go and reunite with your potions. I'll inform the Captain."
Derrick frowned. "And what makes you think you understand the situation better than I do?"
Lumian only smiled and said nothing. To be honest, he wasn't even fully certain of his own deductions.
With that, he opened the door and the two of them stepped inside.
Looking around, they found the room dimly lit by several lamps hanging overhead. It was spacious, with dead bodies lying motionless on a number of metal tables.
Meanwhile, Hargreaves and the station captain stood off to one side, deep in discussion.
"Hello, Captain," Lumian said as he stepped forward, with Derrick following behind him.
"Hello, Lumian. Did you two find any leads?" Hargreaves asked as he looked up.
Lumian nodded. "Yes, Captain. Although I'm not entirely sure how concrete it is, Mr. Derrick can explain the matter more clearly."
Despite his confidence, Lumian was still uncertain about how to present his deductions to the Captain.
Derrick nodded and began speaking. "Yes, Captain. There is nothing fully concrete so far regarding their deaths. However, after investigating the hotel, I determined that all of them died by suicide, and the cause appears to be more of a spiritual nature."
"Spiritual?" the station captain repeated, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"Yes," Derrick replied. "And the perpetrator's aura seemed to be angry at someone familiar to me."
...
The station captain remained silent for a moment.
To be honest, he had never fully believed the earlier conclusion that the deaths were simple suicides. But now that the Faculty Sorcerers had arrived and reached nearly the same deduction, he was forced to take the matter more seriously.
So it really was suicide… or something close to it. Sigh. Here I was hoping for an ordinary murder case.
The station captain let out a quiet sigh and lowered the hand he had been rubbing against his chin. Then he looked directly at Derrick.
"Do you know who it might be?"
The moment those words were spoken, Lumian's body stiffened.
His mouth parted slightly, and before Derrick could answer, Lumian spoke up truthfully.
As he did, his expression naturally shifted into one of guilt, the sort of face perfectly suited to the gravity of the situation, thanks to his Magician abilities. "Captain, I think it's because of me. I once encountered a semi-cursed being and didn't destroy him properly. I believe he has returned. I'm truly sorry."
Hargreaves let out a soft sigh and shook his head. After thinking for a moment, he spoke calmly. "There's no need to blame yourself, Lumian. We simply hadn't told you about that possibility before."
Then, with a reassuring chuckle, he added, "Look on the bright side. At least now you know."
Lumian smiled. "It was actually Mr. Zayn who told me about it earlier."
Hargreaves nodded. "Very well," he said. "Let's begin the autopsy."
They walked forward and soon approached one of the tables, where the muscular body of a man lay beneath a white sheet.
The station captain slowly pulled back the sheet, revealing a man in his thirties with messy black hair and a goatee.
He let out a soft sigh before speaking. "According to our analysis, the man died from multiple stab wounds to the chest. Ultimately, he succumbed to blood loss."
"Another case of suicide," Hargreaves said with a sigh. He rubbed his chin and turned toward Lumian. "But where does this semi-cursed being you mentioned live?"
"On the north side of Mitchell Street," Lumian replied, his gaze still fixed on the pale corpse.
Derrick frowned. "But why would he be attacking the west?"
This question immediately exposed a flaw in Lumian's theory. Because, instead of simply starting from his home which was in the north, he started from an hotel, which was by the west.
Lumian rubbed his chin and thought for a moment, but no answer came to him.
Then Hargreaves spoke up. "Or could he know someone in the hotel?"
...
…Of course. That must be it. Lumian arrived at the conclusion inwardly the moment he heard Hargreaves' words.
At the same time, he also remembered James as a scumbag.
As his thoughts raced, Lumian suddenly remembered a name James had mentioned during their previous battle, which was Amanda.
He immediately looked at Hargreaves and asked, "Captain, was there anyone named Amanda in the hotel?"
The station captain rubbed his philtrum and muttered to himself. "Amanda… Amanda…"
He walked over to a nearby desk and picked up a set of notes. After scanning through them, he lowered the papers and nodded.
"Yes. There is someone by that name."
"Where is she?" Hargreaves asked calmly.
The station captain checked the notes once more, then began walking deeper into the autopsy room.
After a few steps, he stopped beside one of the covered bodies.
With that, the station captain slowly pulled back the sheet.
Beneath it lay a corpse so pale and desiccated that it looked almost skeletal, its skin dry and tight against the bones. Under the autopsy lights, its complexion was so white that it seemed capable of competing with the moon itself.
Hargreaves studied the body for a moment before speaking. "It seems she must have been very important to him."
"As ghosts or even semi-cursed ghosts, such beings rarely move on until they accomplish their goals, but it's not the same for semi-cursed, as semi-cursed rather reincarnate meanwhile spreading corruption in order to complete their goals, they don't move on, except after thorough killing. And when those goals are driven by hatred and negativity, they often begin with the person they loved most, before moving for revenge."
The station captain nodded as he examined the corpse more closely. "Judging from the condition of the body, she appears far less healthy than the others," he said thoughtfully. "That suggests your theory is correct. She must have lost a great deal of blood and was left dead for much longer than the other victims."
Hargreaves nodded and stared at the pale corpse for a few moments before finally turning toward Lumian and Derrick. "Since the two of you went there and nothing happened, that means he will most likely return at the same time he did yesterday—during the night. When he returns, he'll bring corruption and cause more deaths. We need to be there by seven o'clock. If we fail to stop this, the situation could escalate into a Level 5 disaster."
Lumian nodded thoughtfully. So James returned and killed his best lover before moving from one victim to another like a virus, spreading corruption as he advanced from west to north until he finally reaches his home. His true target must be Quin. He probably still believes she is at home.
Although it was said that he harbors resentment toward me, I'm certain he is still searching for Quin. That must be why he is returning to the north.
And if he kills Quin…
The corruption may continue spreading until it reaches me as well.
At that point, this disaster could claim thousands of lives.
Hargreaves nodded and looked at Lumian before turning to Derrick. "We'll be back. Derrick, let's go and help pacify the families of the deceased."
A moment later, Hargreaves, Derrick, and the station captain left the room, closing the door behind them.
Lumian watched the door close, and his thoughts began racing once more.
So the Captain said that when ghosts—or even semi-cursed beings—are driven by hatred or evil intentions, they often kill the person they loved most first.
But Quin never killed any member of her family, and she's still a ghost.
That means she has not yet fulfilled her purpose… and she is not driven by revenge.
Then what exactly is her goal?
Sigh… putting that aside, if we fail to stop this threat, more people will die, and James may fully resurrect.
As that thought crossed his mind, Lumian's ears suddenly began to tickle.
In that instant, he felt that something was wrong with the room.
Using his Sleight of Hand, a playing card—the Four of Spades—suddenly appeared between Lumian's fingers.
The moment he held it, a scene immediately played out in his mind.
Within the vision, everything was silent, so silent that it felt almost deafening.
Then, the sound of coughing echoed through the room.
One by one, the corpses began to tremble violently.
Their bodies shook harder and harder until, all at once, they sat upright.
Their eyes snapped open.
Staring straight ahead, they spoke in perfect unison.
"We are hungry."