The voice seemed to have a magical power, making Goethe groggy. But the moment the word 'home' sounded, Goethe woke up.
'Home'?
Although he didn't know if he could go back yet, this wasn't his home!
Looking at the palm reaching towards him, Goethe took a step back and dodged it directly.
Christa Wayne was taken aback.
Obviously, she didn't expect this to happen.
And Goethe?
Without any hesitation, he turned and left.
"Wait, Goethe!"
"You can't leave!"
"Come back!"
Behind him, his 'aunt's' shouts came.
Goethe had no intention of turning back, and even quickened his pace.
"Ah!"
A sharp, piercing scream echoed behind him.
The ensuing shockwave knocked Goethe to the ground. Dizzy, he 'saw' some fragmented images.
A dark, damp basement.
Sharp meat hooks.
A long, narrow butcher knife.
Three or four people wearing hooded robes, their faces unclear.
Christa Wayne, being cut again and again.
Finally, a sharp meat hook pierced Christa Wayne's mouth, through her upper palate, into her brain, hanging her from the ceiling.
And also...
The sign of 13 Ancient Tower Street.
The image froze in an instant.
Goethe sat up, gasping for breath.
Fine sweat appeared on his forehead, and a heavy sense of fatigue washed over him, as if he had stayed up for ten days straight, and every day had reached the peak of playing eroge.
Moreover, this wasn't an illusion.
In the [Status Bar] that only Goethe could see, the word 'fatigue' also appeared.
Goethe frowned.
He wasn't surprised by this 'fatigue', but rather, he felt lingering fear.
If he hadn't woken up instantly and let that 'Christa Wayne' grab his hand, perhaps...
"Death would be the only outcome!"
Goethe, having reached this conclusion, got out of bed and walked into the bathroom.
Cold water washed over his face.
Goethe quickly calmed down.
"Why did that... 'supernatural phenomenon' just happen?"
Goethe pondered.
Almost subconsciously, the three IOUs the hotel security chief had given him surfaced in his memory. He was the only person who had mentioned his 'aunt' recently.
Could it be him?
Or the boss behind him?
A moment later, Goethe shook his head.
He was currently staying in the other party's hotel. If they wanted to harm him, it would be too easy.
There was no need for such a method.
Of course, it could also be a diversion.
All the previous actions that seemed to be protecting the hotel's reputation might have been for this moment's 'killing move'.
This was one possibility.
Another possibility was the 'Foggy Murderer'.
After repeated failures, they might have started using more direct methods.
They didn't use them initially, probably because the consumption was too high or something.
And now, the anger after continuous failures made them disregard everything.
However, they still failed.
Moreover, it let him know more.
For example: 13 Ancient Tower Street.
"'Aunt' said she called the police, but she was kidnapped before even leaving Ancient Tower Street... Wait, what if this is also their trap?"
Goethe narrowed his eyes.
Based on the 'Foggy Murderer's' previous behavior, this was very likely a trap.
But Goethe quickly came up with a countermeasure.
Swat!
Although it would be more appropriate to directly find the security chief of the Pine Nut Hotel, the recent suspicion made Goethe choose to give up.
He didn't dare to gamble.
After all, he only had one life.
"Maybe this is also within their calculations?"
Goethe thought, quickly going downstairs.
At this time, it was still some time before dawn.
The entire Lustert was quiet, let alone the Pine Nut district where the rich and nobles lived.
Except for the patrolling police in the district, there was no one else.
And that was enough for Goethe.
"I'm looking for Swat, help me call a carriage."
Goethe said.
The two policemen recognized Goethe and had heard some rumors about him.
Without any hesitation, they did as he asked.
By the time Goethe entered Swart's office, the sheriff was still asleep.
Hearing the door open, Swart groggily lifted his head and was surprised to see Goethe.
"Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for your morning workout with Miss Beatrice at this hour?"
"Or could it be..."
"You've been working out all night and haven't slept?!"
Swart, noticing Goethe's exhausted appearance, immediately perked up. He crawled out of his sleeping bag with a gossipy expression and asked, "I heard what happened last night! You took away a Miss Beatrice who is even more beautiful than Lady Bithia!"
"You didn't even give me a heads-up."
"She seems pretty formidable!"
Swart clicked his tongue in admiration.
Goethe?
He chose to ignore it.
What else could he do?
He couldn't possibly tell Swart that Beatrice was actually a man, right?
And not just any man—a middle-aged man.
If he said that out loud, never mind what Morey might do, he himself would be utterly disgusted.
So, Goethe put on a serious face.
"Three things."
"1. I need a 'brave and fearless' person to investigate 13 Guta Street. Secretly find someone for me."
"2. I need you to personally go to the *Lust Daily* newspaper office and get them to publish a missing cat notice in today's paper—looking for a seven-year-old, pure black cat. The reward is 1 gold, 11 silver, and 7 copper, signed 'xyz'. Make sure this is done with great fanfare."
"3. On your way back, bring me some breakfast. This is very important."
After speaking, Goethe picked up a blanket and a sleeping bag from the side.
As Goethe laid out the blanket and got into the sleeping bag without zipping it up, Swart muttered under his breath.
"I'm not your servant."
Goethe heard him clearly and, with his eyes closed, replied.
"There's profit to be made."
"At your service, sir."
The sheriff immediately bowed respectfully and walked out, closing the door softly behind him.
Time passed by.
The sky quickly brightened.
As Swart's footsteps approached, Goethe, who hadn't really slept, emerged from the sleeping bag.
"It's done."
"A prisoner hoping for redemption has been 'persuaded' by me to become a 'brave and fearless' person."
"The editor-in-chief at the newspaper is a friend of mine. They always keep some space in reserve for breaking news, so publishing a missing cat notice is no problem."
"And here's your breakfast—two meat pies and a lemon."
"The filling is beef, and the lemon is the freshest. It's not cheap."
Swart handed over the breakfast as he spoke.
Goethe grabbed his coat in one hand and the meat pie in the other, heading out.
"Let's go."
He said.
"At least have breakfast first, right?"
Swart, holding his own breakfast, followed behind.
"We can eat in the carriage."
"By the way."
"Bring some explosives too, and prepare a fully armed team. Ten minutes after we leave, have them discreetly deploy and hide around Guta Street."
Goethe quickened his pace as he spoke.
He understood the importance of speed in military operations.
Just as he knew the value of striking unexpectedly.
At 1 Guta Street, at the old Wayne family residence, the carriage came to a stop.
"I hope the message in the newspaper will catch your attention."
Goethe thought to himself, his gaze fixed on the "brave and fearless" person across the street.
The man's face was so bruised and swollen that his original features were barely recognizable.
Feeling Goethe's scrutiny, the man looked terrified.
"Go to number 13. It should be in the basement—there's a sharp meat hook and a slender butcher knife. Find them and bring them out, and you'll be free!"
Swart instructed him.
The sharp meat hook was the weapon used to kill Christa Wayne.
The reason for retrieving both items was to cover Goethe's tracks and lay the groundwork for future lies.
His habit of collecting "murder weapons" would eventually draw attention, so he needed to prepare in advance.
"Y-Yes, Sheriff."
The young man stammered before jumping out of the carriage and dashing into 13 Guta Street.
"Don't worry, he's one of the best 'golden fingers' on Lust Street, great at finding things and very cautious."
Seeing Goethe's gaze fixed on 13 Guta Street, Swart reassured him.
"Then how did you catch him?"
Goethe asked.
"He's careful, but his partner wasn't—greedy and cowardly. For just four copper coins, he told me where the guy was hiding."
Swart boasted proudly.
And then the sheriff began recounting his "thief-catching" exploits.
Goethe rolled his eyes.
It wasn't that the story wasn't interesting.
It was just too shameless.
Throughout the tale, Swart never actually paid the four copper coins, and he even sold the informant to a chimney sweep—essentially selling him as "goods."
"Save a penny, earn a penny!"
"That's two pennies in the bag!"
Swart grinned as he spoke.
But Goethe's attention was back on the window.
The person who had left earlier was now returning, holding a sharp hook and a butcher knife, running towards them at an even faster pace, his steps lighter than before.
Especially with the hook in his left hand and the knife in his right, both held in a reverse grip.
Swart didn't notice this.
He opened the carriage door with a smile and stepped out.
"See? I told you he could do it."
As he spoke, the sheriff moved to greet the man.
But not to celebrate his return.
He planned to take the hook and knife and then send the man back to prison.
As for breaking the agreement?
Does a criminal deserve to talk about agreements?
Swart thought righteously.
And then...
The butcher knife, carried by a powerful wind, came slashing down.
Suddenly, Swart felt a wetness between his legs.
(End of this chapter)