Chapter 488: The Breeding Ground for Evil

Translator: TransN Editor: TransN

"We’re going to catch all the criminals and stop them from perpetrating in the City of Neverwinter!"

Nightingale held onto Summer’s shoulder and said loudly.

"Uh, yes... Lady Nightingale." Summer then shrank back. "But it’s time to go to sleep..."

"It’s still early. Let’s talk about the countermeasures for tomorrow." Her eyes were sparkling. "No one can escape our hunting, not even the most cunning Rat! Right, you can call me sister instead."

"Yes... Sister Nightingale."

Oh, my God, Summer did not understand, why as an ordinary townsman, she had to catch criminals. Wasn’t it the patrol party’s job? Plus, Lady Nightingale... no, Sister Nightingale had been so excited since she had returned from the prince’s office. She had been saying "catching criminals" over and over again.

"She’s really a witch who hates evils as she does her own enemies." Summer said to herself. "But can I really help her?"

As Summer thought about this, she asked cautiously. "What shall we do? I’ve never caught a criminal."

"It’s my job to catch the criminals," Nightingale patted her chest proudly and said, "And, you only need to rebuild the crime scene to show us who the murder was!"

"You mean the exact moment of the killing?" Summer hesitated and continued, "But, how can I know when exactly the killer did it?"

"Uh..." Nightingale paused. "You’re right. How often can you use your ability?"

"I practiced with Sister Wendy for a week and four times is the limit now, I think that’s the best I can do," Summer said with frustration. "My magic power is very limited and if the illusion lasts a little longer, the number of uses will decrease. Besides, I cannot rebuild a scene from two days earlier, otherwise, the magic power will run out very fast."

"How long can the illusion last?"

"Half, half a quarter."

"Um... that’s rather short." Nightingale paced to and fro at the bedside. "It’ll be troublesome if the flashback doesn’t reveal the criminal." She meditated for a few minutes. "If you reduce the lasting time of each illusion, can you try a few more times?"

"Maybe I can, but I’m not sure," Summer murmured, "Sister Wendy told me if I could control the magic power accurately, I would be able to control the length of time. But every time I summon my power, I always feel the magic waning quickly."

"It’s such a pity Countess Spear isn’t here," Nightingale said with a regretful look. "Anyway, let’s deduce a time and take a chance."

"Take, take a chance?"

"Yes!" Nightingale said, laughing. "I’m always pretty lucky; otherwise, I wouldn’t ever have met Prince Roland." She suddenly became sad at these words. "... if only it could have been a few days earlier."

"How could that be considered as lucky?" Summer shouted in her mind. "Anyway, luck is unreliable! My ability won’t work even a few hours later, let alone days. Can we really catch criminals tomorrow?"

"Well, now go to sleep." Nightingale blew out the candles and darkness soon enveloped the room.

"Uh-uh." Summer answered and climbed onto the big bed. The soft bedding covered her immediately.

"God, this is the bed of a noble? It’s too comfortable." Summer buried her head into the clean pillow and felt her body sinking into the bed. She stretched her body and quickly started to fall asleep.

Do all the witches in the castle sleep with such comfortable bedding? If I slept on such a bed, I wouldn’t ever feel like getting up again.

She could hear Nightingale mumbling while she was trying to fall asleep.

"I’m his shield..."

And then Summer fell asleep.

...

Early the next morning, she was woken up by Nightingale.

"Hurry up. We ought to go," Nightingale said energetically.

"Yes..."

Summer struggled to get off the bed, put on her coat, and went downstairs with Nightingale. In the lobby, there was a tall man with brown hair pacing back and forth. When he saw them, he stepped forward and said with a bow, "Good morning. I’m Rene Medde, the Earl of the Elk Family. I’ve been waiting for you, you must be Lady Nightingale, and this is..."

"Summer, she’s my assistant." Nightingale raised her head a little. " She’s a witch, too."

"Is that so?" He looked a little surprised but quickly nodded at Summer. "That’s great. The criminals will have nowhere to go if I get your help."

"Where is your staff?"

"They’re all waiting outside the castle."

"Very well. Ask them to wait a little while longer, I haven’t had my breakfast yet."

"Of course, please take your time."

Summer fixed her eyes on them until Nightingale turned into the dining room. She hurried to follow at her heels. "God, is this Sister Nightingale? She hadn’t seen Sister Nightingale so dignified and serious—No, not exactly. She’s so supercilious as if she were a noble."

That’s definitely not something to be expected from a civilian.

Besides, the man is an Earl. In Valencia, the young Earl would be the perfect lover in every woman’s eyes. If I were Sister Nightingale, I’d be too nervous to say a word. But Sister Nightingale seemed not care about this and kept him waiting for her.

"Is this all right?" Summer asked with concerns.

"Take it easy. His Highness told me that a noble is just a title in his territory and even the Earl won’t devour you." Nightingale smiled. "Besides, Security Bureau is superior to the City Hall and I’m his boss. Why can’t I make him wait for me?"

Summer felt the woman was suddenly beyond her reach.

After breakfast, they left the castle to investigate the scene of the murder. Last night, another victim died at home. This time, however, it was on the corner of North Street and West Street.

"It is the fourth one." Nightingale frowned. "And the murderer is moving to the west."

"It shows the killer realized the propagating effect of committing crimes only in a specific block was unsatisfactory," Rene nodded. "After all, the Rats’ organization no longer exists."

Walking not too far down a muddy alley, the leading police officer stopped at a tumble-down cabin. "Sir, it’s here."

Summer walked into the cabin after Nightingale and her heart skipped a beat.

A man was lying on the floor with his neck cut open and his vital fluid everywhere. There was a crossed crown on the wall facing the door and the heavy, metallic smell of blood filled the room.

"Ugh..." She had to cover her mouth to prevent herself from throwing up.