“Exactly. Only members of the Two Great Noble Houses have the power to erase their own biometrics. Not that I can say who actually did it.” Miseria pointed back up at Zack Knoll’s place. “Fortunately, he jumped the gun, and we confirmed it.”
“You said ‘that man,’ but did you know for sure?”
“That was a blind guess. If he’d turned out to be a woman, I had no backup plan.”
“……Luck was with you, then.”
“I know!”
They reached the car.
Feeling like a weight was off his shoulders, Rogue took a moment to look up at the sky. They’d been walking a tightrope, and his body temperature was running high. But it wasn’t a bad feeling.
Inside the car, he didn’t start the engine. “Gotta call the chief,” he said, putting his phone to his ear. Velladonna let it ring a full ten times before picking up.
“Hello, Rogue. How’s it going? Headed back here?”
“Chief, got a quick question for you.”
“Mm-hmm?”
“Any member of the Two Great Noble Houses named Chronos?”
“Haah………” Velladonna let out a very long sigh. “There is,” she answered.
He almost jumped to his feet. He glanced at Miseria, flashing his teeth at her, and she blinked once, then smiled back, giving him a thumbs-up. What the heck am I doing?
“Rogue?”
“Uh, yeah. Brace yourself for a shock. This Chronos is the Lifetaker—”
“Yes, I know.”
“Um.”
What?
“First, let me say, well done, Detective Rogue.”
Velladonna’s syrupy tone had vanished completely.
“What do you mean, Chief?”
“Chronos Drakenia. I’m already aware that he’s the Lifetaker. He’s the cause of our headache. For a serial killer to come from the Two Great Noble Houses…”
“I-if you know that, we haven’t you stopped him?”
“It’s a long story, Rogue. First, the two houses are enemies, and we at the Magic Crimes Bureau are under Drakenia’s control. But Chronos is from their house. Having one of their number placed under arrest will make them look bad. The Ligtons will make a field day of it. And we can’t allow that.”
“So we’re letting a criminal remain at large?”
“Not at all,” Velladonna said. “If the case is handled by a team that doesn’t exist—yes, your Sixth Precinct—then no one can interfere. Since we can’t go public with the information that we’re secretly harboring witches, even if you arrest Chronos, the Ligtons and Drakenias can go about their business as if none of this happened.”
“So you knew but did nothing.”
“Exactly. The bureau investigating this officially would be a betrayal of the Drakenias and leave them exposed to Ligton attacks. Our only choice was to put this in your hands.”
“Uh-huh.”
For the first time, Rogue caught a tremor in his voice.
“Chronos stole Drakenian magic secrets and fled. The very spell used to lengthen the lifespans of the heads of their two houses. It melds with the skin of the caster, granting them control of biological time. They are free to be as old or young as they like. There were other highly fatal spells stored there, so had he stolen something else, my head may well have left my shoulders.”
Now she was just grumbling.
“But here he stole this great secret, and he’s using it to commit crimes. Such a waste.”
“……Right.”
“Rogue, I’m grateful to you. I’d love to take you out for dinner. But that aside, once you resolve this case, I’ve got a seat for you in management. You’ll have earned it. I pray you can resolve this swiftly.”
She hung up.
There was a storm in his heart, but he could not quite put a name to it.
First on his mind were the Lifetaker’s victims. If the Bureau had ignored the power struggles and put their weight behind the case, they could have solved it easily. He punched the wheel, and the horn went off. A bit loud for a residential area.
“……Sorry,” he said.
It didn’t feel like his voice.
The bureau’s whole purpose was bringing criminals to justice.
At least, that was why Rogue was a detective. If a crook was within his arm’s reach, he wasn’t about to let them go, no matter who said so. He didn’t give a damn about reputations or money. Neither of those had any place in an investigation.
But a thought nagged at him.
______Is that true?
There was a villain right next to him. A really nasty one. Should he be letting her off scot-free?
“Cheer up, Rogue! We’ve almost cracked the case!” the witch said. “This is an achievement you should be proud of.”
Her placid tones really got under his skin. Not just her—he was mad at himself. For being consoled by a witch.
Witches were evil.
They had to be.
He wasn’t lost in thought for long, but he spent that whole time about to explode.
“Is that the sort of thing you said before you killed your victims, witch?” Venting that made him feel much better. “Crack the case? Yeah, we’ll do that. Far too late.”
He was lashing out at her—harsher each time.
“Maybe it’s hard for a witch like you to grasp, but these victims aren’t coming back.”
He was so mad, he starting saying things he shouldn’t simply to hurt her. He couldn’t stop himself.
“Witches killed my parents. Not just them. The old man next door, my friends from school, my teachers, every relative I had—and they made them suffer. Really messed them up. Did anyone even spare a single thought for the lives they ruined? Wonder how it felt to see their parents no longer themselves? People who’d been laughing with you a day before acting like someone else entirely! Tell me, what should I have done? Not like what you did is any different.”
He’d put it all out there…
…and it only made him feel empty.
“Ha…you don’t even care. Humans are nothing but toys to you.”
Rogue shot Miseria a baleful look, and her smile hadn’t even flickered. Not one word he’d said had got to her. And that felt like proof witches weren’t human.
As he looked away, Miseria broke her silence.
“There’s nothing I loathe more than an apologist,” she said. “Sadly, our world is full of them. So few people willing to decry what is clearly wrong.”
“……What about it?”
“In my eyes, you’re doing the right thing.”
“……Talk does no one any good.”
“Right. You know that, so how long are you gonna sit here?”
Miseria grabbed Rogue’s chin and forced him to look at her.
“Hnnngh?”
“What you should be doing is sharing this intel with everyone so we can catch our killer as soon as physically possible.”
Her blue eyes bored right through him. There was no anger there—simply his face reflected in them.
“……That’s a twist. Getting lectured by a witch?”
“Lecture? Please. I’m merely stating the facts.”
“……Facts? What’s even real?” Something hot came rushing up his throat. He tried to fight it off and failed. “An achievement? I ain’t looking for praise! I don’t need a witch consoling me! That just makes it worse!”
He slapped her hand away from his chin.
The crack echoed.
“Oh…”
He saw how red the skin on her hand was and gasped.
“Sor—”
“Don’t be. You said nothing wrong.”
Miseria shook her head.
“But we don’t have time to waste. As the net tightens, the Lifetaker may resort to desperate measures.”
She was a witch, a goddamn witch. But right now, she felt like a detective first. And like a veteran officer coaxing a greenhorn through a psychological wound.
“I hit you! At least let me say—”
“You hit me? When?”
Miseria crooked her head, playing dumb. Shutting him down.
He had never been so humiliated.
Power struggles at the top weren’t Rogue’s problem. But learning about them had shaken him. Even though he had better fish to fry.
He felt something on his head. It feels like…a hand?
“You’re a hard worker,” Miseria said. Running her fingers through his hair, like she was straightening it out. It wasn’t the worst feeling. It was actually kind of pleasant. His own reaction made him freeze, and her voice purred on. “And that hard work is what made me want to help. Where no one else managed it.”
“……Stop that, you’re embarrassing me.”
Miseria pressed her fingers softly into his scalp.
“If you want me to stop, try slapping my hand away again.”
That wasn’t fair.
“……Now I can’t stop you.”
He turned away, and she chuckled.
“Just let me have my way with you.”
“……Shush.”
“Oh, your ears are red! My, my!”
His brow furrowed. In lieu of answering, he closed his eyes.
He wondered if she really was a witch. She said she’d killed five detectives. He knew she’d brought calamity upon the empire. She tortured people. She said all kinds of awful things. But Rogue himself was uninjured. That’s why he was finding it hard to believe she was a witch, that her crimes were real.
It wasn’t like she had him wrapped around her finger…
…but right then, he felt like letting her rub his head a while longer.
Once this case was solved, he’d be leaving the Sixth Precinct behind.
A painter located at the border of the Fifth and Sixth Wards—that was where Zack Knoll’s note lead them. Unlike the previous hideouts, this one was neatly kept. The shutter out front was open, but the interior was dimly lit, so it was hard to make anything out. Rogue gave Catherine a sidelong glance, directing her around the back, then ducked under the shutter, heading in alone.
Once inside, he soon spotted someone in the corner. Their eyes gleamed in the darkness, catlike. The golden eyes of the nobility. Forcing himself not to rush, he moved slowly forward.
“Why, hello,” a voice came. A man’s voice, far too friendly. “This is our first time meeting face-to-face, but I’ve heard all about you, Detective Rogue Macabesta.”
“Put your hands up and face the wall,” Rogue said, ignoring the man’s greeting.
The man laughed and flicked a switch. The lights came on, momentarily dazzling the detective.
“I’ve been waiting so long. Dying to see who was pursuing me.”
The Lifetaker—Chronos Drakenia—stood there, hand still on the switch.
He was a handsome young man, golden eyes gleaming with a pleasant smile on his lips.
“Put your hands up,” Rogue said again.
“The detective and the killer, together at last! You mustn’t rush it.” Chronos took his hand from the switch, moving slowly forward. “We should talk.”
“What about?”
“If we do not speak, we cannot reach an understanding. I’m sure what I have to say will change your mind.”
Chronos stopped his advance a good five meters out. He did not appear to be armed, but with that sigil inscribed in his flesh, he could attack Rogue regardless.