Chapter 17: The Murder Case
On the other side of town, to the west of Darkland City—
A young man in a top hat stepped down from a carriage and walked through the wind and snow into the Duke of West's estate.
Kien West sat behind his desk, a finely crafted pipe in his mouth, reading a few yellowed pages under the soft glow of a gas lamp.
Ever since the inventor William Murdoch discovered that gas extracted from coal could be used for illumination, gas lighting had gradually replaced whale oil as the primary source of heat and light in the Kingdom of Bryston.
At first, people were wary of gas lamps. Ladies in particular disapproved, claiming the light made skin imperfections too visible. But just as the advent of the Supernatural Era could not be reversed, gas lamps began spreading—from shops to theaters to streetlights.
Now, they were a staple in every household.
A knock came from the door. Kien looked up and called out:
"Sherlock? Come in."
"It's me. I've finished investigating, just as you asked." The young man stepped in lightly and tipped his hat to Kien West.
"Have a seat," Kien said, gesturing toward the bottle on the desk. "Want a glass of Ice Dew wine? With aphid juice?"
"No, thank you."
Once again rejected, Kien shook his head with a sigh of regret. "So, how was the scene?"
"The sacrifice really did take place at the cursed Jasonat Haunted Manor. We found seven cultists dead at the scene. Five of them were killed by cold weapons while unconscious—no signs of struggle. The remaining two were shot dead, each with a single fatal bullet wound."
"There were indeed traces of a Supernatural creature having been present—and killed. Just the corrosive blood splattered across the floor left several unmistakable patches. Based on the trajectories and shell casings left at the scene, a fierce gunfight definitely took place. The casings came from two firearms: one a small-caliber revolver, the other a large-caliber weapon. Here's the analysis report on the sacrificial event." As he spoke, the young man handed Kien a stack of documents.
If Zhou Ning had seen this report, he would've been stunned—this young man had almost perfectly reconstructed the entire incident based solely on ballistic patterns, shell positions, and blood splatter distribution.
"Hmm." Kien flipped through a few pages and nodded thoughtfully. "What about the book? Did you find it?"
"No. Just like before, it vanished after the ritual ended." The young man shrugged.
"Well, maybe it really did grow legs and walk away," Kien said with a wry smile.
After seeing the young man off, Kien sat back down at his desk and began reading the report.
"To take down a Supernatural creature with nothing but firearms… quite an impressive young man. As for his weapons…" He took a deep drag from his pipe and fell into thought.
As gas usage expanded and became more widespread among civilians, the kingdom had begun to place increasing value on coal as a precious resource.
King Charles VI had mobilized the entire nation to refit a thousand-year-old alchemical warship. Now powered by a steam engine and alchemical arrays, it was armed with 24 Vulcan cannons and 18 Invincible Cannons, capable of reaching speeds of 21 knots. This colossal steel monstrosity—the largest in human history—was now docked at the western military port of the city.
Its purpose: to conquer the northern Walrusmen and seize their abundant coal resources.
At the same time, climate anomalies were growing more frequent, and there were even rumors of elemental creatures attacking humans.
As early as two years ago, the court's chief mage, Elan, had made a prophecy: the gods would soon awaken, and the Supernatural would return in full force. The world would see the rise of countless Chosen—beings who feared neither death nor pain. Their arrival would be both catastrophe and opportunity.
No one believed it back then. But now that Supernatural powers were growing more active and the bottleneck that had plagued Kien for so long had vanished, he might soon ascend to become a Sky Knight.
All across Darkland—and indeed, the entire Kingdom of Bryston—more and more Supernatural incidents were surfacing.
Recalling Elan's prophecy…
Kien turned to look out at the falling snow, murmuring with both anticipation and dread:
"A new era has begun…"
…
The next morning, when Zhou Ning awoke from his slumber, daylight had already filled the room.
He dug out a pocket watch from a pile of clothes and flipped it open. It read exactly 7:00 AM.
"Good habits!" Zhou Ning praised himself.
After dressing, he noticed his roommate John still hadn't returned. The mutt named Bobby, who had taken over John's bed, was now running happily around the room, tail wagging.
According to what he knew from the game, this breed existed only in the world of Apocalypse. Extremely energetic and highly sensitive to light elements, they were known as Sun Dogs—naturally adept at keeping time. Some rare individuals, once trained, could even predict the weather.
But Bobby? One look and Zhou Ning could tell this dog was a few candles short of a chandelier. Weather prediction? Yeah, right.
After a few laps, Bobby seemed to get tired. With a swaggering gait, he backed up against the dorm wall, stuck out his butt, and moments later, left behind a steaming pile of dog poop.
Zhou Ning: …
Why does this feel weirdly inspirational?
Man, Apocalypse is brutal. Even dogs here have to master skills like timekeeping and still never forget to crap with conviction.
If even dogs are grinding this hard, how can I let myself slack off?
Let's gooo!
Wait, no—this is my wall! You damn mutt! Zhou Ning grabbed a broom without hesitation.
The dumb dog, seeing Zhou Ning storming over, must've felt guilty. It looked back, stuck out its tongue, and—slurp—swallowed the evidence. Then it dashed joyfully toward him as if nothing had happened.
Zhou Ning: …
Get away from me!
After giving the mutt a proper ear-twisting punishment, Zhou Ning quickly washed up and opened the wardrobe to pick out his clothes. In this world, strict rules dictated that only nobles could wear colored clothing, so the wardrobe contained only black and white garments.
After some deliberation, he settled on a white shirt and a black vest. Once dressed, he topped it off with a soft felt hat and gave himself a thumbs-up in the mirror: perfect.
His predecessor had a highly disciplined routine: every morning began with a jog around campus, followed by breakfast at a place called The Pig and Whistle, then a quick change of clothes before heading to the Alchemy Building. As a top student in alchemy, Wayne Sturwell—Zhou Ning's predecessor—had long served as Professor Wesley's teaching assistant, helping to prepare lesson plans and alchemical supplies, and occasionally even covering classes.
In return, he was granted limited access to school alchemical materials and equipment, along with a monthly stipend of five Vecktas—worth fifty Roshens.
To celebrate his first full day in this new world, Zhou Ning decided to skip the jog. But he'd keep the assistant gig, at least for now. For one thing, he was flat broke. He had just 15 Vecktas to his name—seven of which he'd scraped together yesterday. But most of it was off-limits; with school resuming soon, he'd need to pay 10 Roshens in tuition every week. One misstep and he'd be out of school and out of luck.
Then there was the simulator. Yesterday, after the transfer, he had 11 Transfer Coins left—enough for two more jumps. He'd asked the system, and topping up a single Transfer Coin required 10 Vecktas—two months' worth of his stipend! One transfer? A ridiculous 50 Vecktas!
The more he thought about it, the more his heart ached. Damn you, Tony Stark! You scammed me out of ten months' salary and still had the nerve to act smug!
Beyond easing his financial burden, keeping the assistant role also allowed him to freeload alchemy materials and tools.
According to the official game mechanics, most primary and secondary professions could be learned from skill books or NPCs. But life-type secondary professions were more demanding—skill books were rare, and mastering them required extensive practice.
Like enchanting. Or alchemy.
The game's classic saying—Alchemy ruins three generations, enchanting wrecks a lifetime—came to mind for good reason.
Zhou Ning didn't yet have a combat-oriented primary profession, but freeloading the school's alchemy resources would help him quickly build experience and level up his skills. A win-win.
Dressed and ready, he left the dorm.
Unlike the world he came from, Vick University's dormitories were co-ed. Even in this cold weather, plenty of young women strolled around in revealing clothes. Far from shying away, many greeted him with cheerful familiarity:
"Morning, Senior Wayne!"
"Skipping your morning run today, Senior?"
The body's charm seemed unexpectedly strong. With the Expert Flirting active, Zhou Ning almost felt like a tiger among sheep. He returned greetings all the way to the dorm entrance.
Ah, this is the life…
Standing at the gate, he performed a few rounds of Ripple Breathing under the morning sun. He noticed small green plus signs appear next to his Strength and Agility stats, slowly rising. With consistent training, he might level up naturally in just a few days.
What an amazing skill. Zhou Ning was impressed.
Across from the dorms lay a manmade grove—normally a popular make-out spot. Now, a crowd had gathered outside it. Something had clearly happened.
Zhou Ning approached, curiosity piqued. He overheard two male students talking:
"Word is there was a murder in the grove last night."
"Seriously? They say it was a sophomore girl."
"I heard it was brutal. Her organs were all ripped out."
At that last bit, Zhou Ning frowned.
His feet moved instinctively toward the grove.
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