Boom!
Severed limbs flew through the air.
This time, Goethe was certain that Pharoah was dead—completely and utterly dead.
He walked over and inspected Pharoah's shattered body.
The man had possessed extraordinary powers!
It was Pharoah who had manipulated Hode's corpse to "come back to life."
Goethe was sure of this.
After all, Pharoah had been too conspicuous.
In fact, after the explosion, even though Goethe appeared to board the carriage, he was actually searching the area for anything unusual.
While he didn't know what had revived Hode's corpse, he knew one thing: Someone had seen him carrying the dynamite and decided to activate the corpse.
There weren't many places from which someone could have observed him carrying the dynamite box.
One was the second floor of Dr. Hode's house.
The other was the small building across from Dr. Hode's house.
With Hode's house destroyed, only the house across the street remained.
So after getting into the carriage, Goethe focused most of his attention on that building.
However, he wasn't entirely sure.
He was only making logical deductions, but Pharoah had extraordinary powers and could have been using them to observe the situation.
But when nearly everyone in the neighborhood came out to see what the explosion was about, except for that one house, Goethe's attention locked onto it.
Then, when the door to the house finally opened and someone walked out with no apparent curiosity, heading straight for the edge of the district, Goethe was certain something was wrong.
And when the person called out in surprise, Goethe knew he had found his target.
He walked over and began examining the body.
After the explosion, there wasn't much of value left.
But Goethe still meticulously inspected everything.
He was intensely curious about the extraordinary!
Why did they possess powers that ordinary people didn't?
Where did these powers come from?
His curiosity drove him.
So when Swart arrived, he found Goethe crouching there, carefully examining the severed limbs, holding a piece of an arm with such focus that the sheriff almost exclaimed, "What a freak!"
"Ahem, ahem."
The sheriff cleared his throat several times, interrupting Goethe's concentration.
Goethe looked up to see the sheriff gesturing around.
The residents of the Linden Avenue district had gathered again, curious as ever.
"Let's continue this investigation at the police station."
"Mm."
Goethe agreed without hesitation.
He pulled down his hat and returned to the carriage.
Meanwhile, Swart stayed behind, and as the residents of Linden Avenue approached, the sheriff once again wore a look of sorrow and helplessness, slowly saying—
"This was another gas leak accident!"
"Just like the one at Dr. Hode's house!"
"I don't know if the remaining gas equipment in the district is safe, but I suggest everyone leave temporarily until the gas company's staff has inspected the area."
After speaking, the sheriff glanced at the body on the ground and couldn't help but sigh.
"What?"
"Another gas explosion?"
"The gas company staff will definitely be negligent!"
"Exactly."
"The directors of those companies only care about their own interests; they couldn't possibly be concerned about us!"
As middle- and upper-class residents, those living in the Linden Avenue district knew all too well how the gas company would handle this.
Just look at the body on the ground!
They didn't want to end up like that.
And that charred ground!
Who could guarantee that the gas wasn't still leaking?
Several residents seemed startled, taking two steps back.
More of them turned their eyes to Swart.
"Sheriff Swart, we need your help. You just took down a group of dangerous criminals for us yesterday, so you surely won't mind continuing to help us now."
They had all read this morning's newspaper.
Sheriff Swart was undoubtedly someone they could trust.
"Yes, Sheriff."
"We need you to oversee this!"
Hearing the voices around him, Swart was overjoyed, though outwardly he appeared hesitant.
"I still have work…"
"Don't worry, we won't let it interfere with your duties!"
"We'll explain to the commissioner that you're working overtime to help us!"
The sheriff hadn't even finished his sentence before the crowd cut him off.
"Well, alright."
"In that case, I'll oversee the gas company's reinspection and repairs here."
Swart finally nodded.
His agreement elicited cheers from the surrounding residents.
As Swart returned to the carriage and left, the residents waved him off with warm farewells.
Settling back into his seat, Swart couldn't stop smiling.
He was in a fantastic mood.
This was an unexpected windfall.
If handled properly, he could recoup most of the money he had spent buying credits from Goethe earlier.
Plus, he'd gain the support of the Linden Avenue residents.
Compared to the homeless poor, the support of these residents was far more valuable if he wanted to advance further.
It was a win-win.
Thinking of this, Swart couldn't help but hum a little tune.
Goethe, who was sitting with his eyes closed in thought, couldn't help but frown.
Swart's tune was terrible.
"Give me half."
Goethe said this, and Swart's humming came to an abrupt halt.
"What?"
"Goethe, what are you talking about?"
"What do you mean by 'half'? I don't understand," Sheriff Swart feigned ignorance.
"Gas company, oversight, support from Linden Avenue," Goethe casually highlighted the points Swart cared about most.
"But I earned this all by myself!" the sheriff argued.
"You wouldn't have gotten it without me."
With that, Goethe closed his eyes again, ignoring Swart.
The sheriff wisely decided not to argue further. He knew that if he pushed it, he wouldn't just lose half.
"Damn Goethe! How is he so sharp?" Swart cursed internally. He immediately resolved to squeeze as much profit as possible from the gas company to make up for his losses.
As for turning against Goethe? The sheriff didn't dare.
After witnessing Goethe's ruthless efficiency multiple times, Swart chose to play it safe.
Of course, the more crucial reason was that Goethe could bring him significant benefits, even if it came with risk.
And that made it clear to Swart: he needed to stay on Goethe's good side. In times of danger, who else could he rely on?
So, back at the station, by the time Goethe returned from inspecting Pharoah's corpse in the morgue, Swart had already prepared lunch.
"Stewed beef, steamed potatoes, boiled celery, and molasses tart. I can assure you, this is the best lunch from the nearby restaurants," Swart said, handing Goethe the utensils.
The stewed beef was served in a bowl, with the meat cut into thumb-sized cubes and slow-cooked with a hint of wine that made the rich aroma even more enticing. The steamed potatoes were whole and clean, four of them neatly arranged on a plate. The boiled celery exuded its unique fragrance. But what caught Goethe's attention was the molasses tart—a stack of five pancakes drenched in golden-brown syrup, emitting a rich sweetness that whetted the appetite.
Swart had already speared a steaming potato with his fork, peeling it with a knife as he spoke. "Those two guys you brought in don't have any criminal records, but they're likely habitual offenders. I've had them given special attention. In two days, they'll spill the beans. Their revolvers and knives—I've already had them sold."
With that, he placed three 1-dollar gold bills in front of Goethe.
Goethe pocketed the bills, picked up a steamed potato, and without peeling it, crushed it on his plate. Then, he poured the stewed beef and its gravy over it.
The soft potato absorbed the rich meat juices, turning from orange-yellow to deep yellow. He scooped up a spoonful of mashed potatoes and beef, savoring the tender yet chewy texture, the hearty flavor of the beef making him reach for another bite.
After two bites of the crisp celery, he and Swart each took half of the molasses tart.
Ten minutes later, satisfied from the meal, Goethe finally spoke again.
"What do you know about Morey?"
Sheriff Swart, who had been dozing off in his chair after the meal, immediately sat up straight.
"I don't know much about Lord Morey. He only arrived in Lust a month ago to handle 'special matters' with us. The official who handled these matters before him disappeared three days ago without a trace."
"We didn't dare ask too many questions, but fortunately, Lord Morey is easier to get along with than expected. He's less proactive than the previous official, but he's decent enough."
"So, it's normal that he didn't show up just now; it's happened before. But he usually responds afterward."
"Oh, and the 'Black Sails Security Company' was also established after Lord Morey arrived. Other than a young man, it's basically an empty shell."
A month ago!
Hearing the timeline, Goethe narrowed his eyes.
That was when the incident at his home occurred!
Was it just a coincidence?
Or was there a connection?
And the previous official responsible for 'special matters'—there's no way they vanished without a trace.
They must have met with an accident!
That's why Morey appeared!
And the cause of the accident was…
The 'Fog Killer'!
Goethe's eyes gleamed with understanding.
As for Morey's slow response?
It must be due to a lack of manpower.
Morey was likely chasing the 'Fog Killer' and didn't have the energy to handle other matters.
That's why the 'Black Sails Security Company' was formed!
But…
The young man in the security company clearly wasn't up to the task.
Recalling the cold indifference the young man had shown that morning, Goethe naturally thought of the corpse in the morgue.
If that young man had faced that corpse, he'd have been easily killed, wouldn't he?
Goethe was certain of it.
Even though the corpse was in pieces, he could still glean some basic information.
For example, the man had well-developed muscles!
That was a level of physical conditioning that even seasoned professionals with exceptional talent and rigorous training could barely achieve.
Facing such a person unarmed, Goethe had no guarantee of victory.
Not to mention that the man possessed 'extraordinary power'!
As for the possibility that the young man at the 'Black Sails Security Company' had a similar 'extraordinary power'?
If he did, Swart would show him more 'respect' instead of referring to him so casually.
Even though their acquaintance was brief, Goethe had already learned a bit about Swart's character.
As his thoughts returned to the corpse, Goethe pondered further.
Someone with such muscles wouldn't have such sluggish reflexes.
"Was it because I killed the resurrected Dr. Hode, and the 'extraordinary power' affected the body, making it easier for me to kill him?"
Goethe speculated again.
But this time, he was less confident.
Compared to his previous, more logical deductions, his lack of understanding about the 'extraordinary' left him uncertain.
However, he was sure that tonight, Morey would give him an answer.
At the Garden Club.
Of course!
There was one more thing Goethe was very interested in before that.
"Do you know how to contact any other institutions or individuals responsible for 'special matters' besides Morey?"
Swart was momentarily stunned by the question.
"You don't trust Lord Morey?"
"No, it's not about distrust."
"I just want to avoid unnecessary risks."
Goethe replied with a smile.
Because just moments ago, a bold hypothesis had suddenly surfaced in his mind:
What if Morey himself was the 'Fog Killer'?
(End of Chapter)