When Lucien Valois stepped out of the House of the Hearth, the sky was already swallowed by heavy storm clouds. The air hung thick and oppressive, as if a cold winter rain would fall at any moment.
Pedestrians hurried along the streets, their expressions tense, quickening their steps to reach home before the downpour began.
After buying a bag of macaroni from a grocery store, Lucien Valois quickened his pace as well.
Just as he was nearing his house, a faint sense of danger prickled at the back of his neck. Almost instinctively, he turned his head slightly.
At that instant—
Whoosh!
A sharp whistle tore through the air as a bullet grazed past his ear.
Lucien Valois reacted in less than a heartbeat. The moment the bullet passed him, he blurred into motion, transforming into a streaking afterimage as he charged toward the direction from which it had been fired.
In the blink of an eye, he stood before the assassin.
The man was still holding his long rifle, shock frozen across his face.
Without hesitation, Lucien Valois drove a brutal elbow into the assassin's chest.
A crisp crack echoed—the unmistakable sound of ribs shattering. The assassin's body flew backward uncontrollably, tracing a long arc through the air before slamming heavily onto the ground over ten meters away.
He struggled in agony, trying to rise, but his body felt as heavy as if filled with molten lead.
"Talk," Lucien Valois said coldly, stepping closer, killing intent churning in his dark eyes. "Who sent you?"
The assassin forced his head up. He opened his mouth, but only a mouthful of blood-tinged air escaped.
"In… our line of work… we don't ask about the employer," he rasped weakly. "Even if we know… we don't tell."
Lucien Valois stopped in front of him, looking down from above.
"Didn't expect you to have professional ethics."
"Love… the job you do…" The assassin's face was pale as paper, yet he forced a twisted smile.
As he spoke, his trembling hand reached into his pocket and pulled out a handgun.
Lucien Valois could have easily kicked the weapon away.
But in that fleeting instant, a thought surfaced in his mind.
So he did not move.
He stood there calmly, watching as the assassin slowly raised the gun.
Confusion flickered across the assassin's eyes—why would Lucien Valois give him this chance?
Still, he pulled the trigger.
At the exact moment the bullet was fired, Lucien Valois adjusted his body with terrifying precision, allowing the bullet to strike the muscle of his shoulder—nothing vital.
Before the assassin could fire again, Lucien Valois endured the searing pain and delivered a decisive kick, ending the man's life.
After briefly tidying the scene, Lucien Valois staggered onto the main street, his clothes soaked in blood. He reported the attack to a patrol officer.
The moment he finished speaking, darkness swallowed his vision.
He collapsed.
Within hours, news that Deputy Captain Lucien Valois had been assassinated in broad daylight spread across all of Fontaine.
Palais Mermonia, Top Floor
Furina sat by the window, absentmindedly watching the steady drizzle outside.
Silver threads of rain streaked down the glass, merging into winding streams.
Unbidden, Lucien Valois's face surfaced in her thoughts once more.
Just then, the crisp chime of the doorbell rang.
She rose immediately and went to open the door.
To her slight disappointment, it was not Lucien Valois—but her attendant, Sedene.
Sedene looked up and said, "Lady Furina, Captain Lucien Valois was just assassinated on the street."
For a split second, Furina's mind went completely blank.
It felt as if all thought had been hollowed out. Her chest tightened; even breathing became difficult.
"How is he?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"He's been taken to the public hospital for treatment," Sedene replied quickly.
Before the words fully settled, Furina had already rushed out the door, completely abandoning her usual divine composure.
Half an hour later, she burst into a clean, orderly hospital room.
She was drenched through and through. Rainwater clung to her hair, dripping from her chin and sleeves.
The moment she entered, she saw Lucien Valois lying on the bed, eyes closed, his shoulder wrapped in thick bandages.
On either side of the bed sat Chiori and Emilie. The atmosphere between them felt… subtle.
Furina steadied her breathing and stepped forward anxiously.
"Is he badly hurt?"
Chiori answered first. "The injury is serious. But fortunately, he avoided a fatal wound. With proper rest, he'll recover."
Emilie parted her lips slightly, as though wanting to speak, but ultimately remained silent.
Hearing this, Furina finally let out the breath she'd been holding.
"Then I won't disturb his rest."
She cast one long, quiet look at Lucien Valois before turning and leaving.
Soon after, she returned to the Palais Mermonia and headed straight for the office of Neuvillette.
He sat behind his desk reviewing documents. When he looked up and saw her soaked from the rain, a trace of concern flickered in his eyes.
Furina stopped before his desk, her expression solemn.
"As a god, I demand that you uncover the mastermind behind Lucien Valois's assassination as soon as possible."
Neuvillette nodded, his voice firm and resolute.
"Whoever stands behind this will be found—and subjected to the harshest judgment."
Satisfied, Furina said nothing more and turned to leave.
Only after stepping outside the office did she truly register the cold.
Her clothes were drenched, icy rainwater dripping from her hair and sleeves, seeping into her bones.
Yet when she thought of Lucien Valois's eventual recovery, the chill no longer seemed worth noticing.