Gun of Ashes

Sometimes, when many things are put together separately, they’re no big deal, but when combined, they can ignite some bizarre chemical reactions.

Lorenzo had tasted many strange foods, whether during his time hunting demons in the Order or on his Gaulunaro journey with Selyu. He had faced worse situations and eaten things even less palatable, but none of them had ever impacted him as much as this sinister dish before him.

During his six years living in Old Dunling, Lorenzo had heard of this dish’s name, but only ever heard of it. He rarely dined at restaurants, usually settling meals at home. However, now faced with this plate, his life seemed a little surreal.

Whether it was fish heads or cheese, or even pizza, these items appeared fine individually and were edible. But when thrown together, they became like a demon concoction, full of absurdity.

Looking at the upright fish heads before him, Lorenzo couldn’t help but sigh. This was gazing at the stars, this was dying with open eyes! Each fish head stared wide-eyed, seemingly venting its fishless grievances to Lorenzo.

Enough, enough, better not to look at them anymore. Lorenzo picked up a sandwich and exited the restaurant without looking back.

Today was yet another new day, no troublesome people, no troublesome matters, really nice.

He boarded a steam tram, rumbling like an Iron Serpent along the tracks towards Suyalan Hall.

Wake up, eat, then head to Suyalan Hall.

This has been Lorenzo’s schedule lately. Old Dunling is vast, with many strange cases needing resolution every day, and as a freelance detective, Lorenzo never lacked work.

Speaking of which, being formal has its perks. There’s assistance throughout the investigations, and even the use of public funds. The only hassle is more procedures to follow, and the prohibition against freely firing weapons... at least not in urban areas.

Soon Suyalan Hall’s striking architecture appeared in Lorenzo’s view. It was a tall castle, but strangely, the castle was built in the urban area, and many parts have been demolished. Originally, it was a noble’s castle, but after bankruptcy, it was mortgaged, and after years of turnovers and Old Dunling’s urban expansion, it fell into official hands.

Initially, it was intended for demolition, but due to its historical significance and military-grade defense abilities, it then became Suyalan Hall, the whole of Old Dunling’s police security center.

Passing through security at the entrance, Lorenzo easily entered. He wasn’t new to Suyalan Hall; in his previous life, he always masqueraded various identities to infiltrate here. It wasn’t until becoming a freelance detective that he entered openly.

Hmm, this feels quite nice.

Seeing Lorenzo’s arrival, officers glanced sideways. Even though this freelance detective had served for over half a month, many young officers curiously watched him, some feeling as if facing a formidable enemy, others excitedly.

This made sense; before, Lorenzo was a mysterious detective from Lower City District, known for reshuffling Lower City District during the Red River Tragedy. Essentially, Lorenzo was like a metropolitan legend to most of them. But now, this metropolitan legend not only appeared before them, but he even clocked in to work with them—what a crazy thought!

It felt like a shattered dream—this mysterious detective wasn’t something haunting and dreadful, but rather amiable and friendly, loving to chat and slack off with everyone, and even scheming to fleece Suyalan Hall. With a ”Comrades, let’s overthrow the evil ruling class” persona.

Greeting a few familiar officers, Lorenzo navigated through the dense workstations, finally arriving beside Pres’s desk.

”What’s on today’s agenda?”

Lorenzo began his new day.

…

Carriages sped through Old Dunling’s streets. Though cars were invented, due to energy consumption and road issues, they remained toys for the wealthy, unsuitable for Old Dunling’s complex environment.

Lorenzo and Pres sat across from each other in the carriage. The door bore a few unrepaired bullet holes, cold wind blowing in, forcing both men to tighten their coats.

”A murder case?”

Lorenzo glanced at the file, reading every line carefully as they rushed to the crime scene. This time was often used for understanding case details.

”Accurately speaking, a brutal torture-murder, extremely brutal. Our officers nearly vomited upon arrival, some young girls cried out in fear,” Pres added.

”That severe?”

Normal folks hearing this might feel somewhat nauseous or repelled, but Lorenzo felt rather intrigued. Such peculiar cases were rare, and he became curious about just how atrocious the crime scene was.

Humans inherently impose limits on themselves, akin to easily killing an animal but feeling horror at a fellow human’s death. If it was a brutal torture-murder, the criminal must possess extraordinary psychological strength or be utterly deranged.

Regardless of which outcome, it would surely make the situation more interesting.

The crime scene was in the Outer City District, near Old Dunling’s periphery and the new development zone. Due to technological progress and a growing nation, Old Dunling’s population kept rising, prompting continuous urban expansions in recent years.

These development zones weren’t completed yet, but being on the edge, rental prices were cheap. Many outsiders resided in these low-rent homes, heading to factories by tram for work before dawn.

The crime scene was in an apartment building, where Suyalan Hall’s carriage occupied a large street section. Mounted officers stretched a cordon around, everyone’s expressions grave.

”Heavens, truly tragic.”

”I don’t think I’ll want to eat meat for half a month.”

”I think I need to find a place to vomit.”

Upon exiting, myriad voices filled Lorenzo’s ears, officers all wore troubled looks, some sitting on the steps, gazing blankly, seemingly overwhelmed and questioning their existence.

”Seems the situation isn’t optimistic.”

Pres never expected such a situation, taking a mask handed over and giving Lorenzo one.

”Tell me what’s going on.”

Lorenzo donned the mask and asked the leading officer by his side.

Even outside, the scent of blood was discernible in the atmosphere, truly difficult to fathom how gruesome the crime scene must be.

”The victim is a middle-aged woman, an outsider who arrived in Old Dunling this year, working at a factory in West City District. According to reports, it was the landlord who smelled the intense bloody odor in the morning, then noticed signs of intrusion in her room, leading up to the case,” the officer said.

”Looks like we can rule out monetary motives; there’s little to gain here,” Lorenzo nodded, following the officer upstairs. The crime scene was at the end of the fourth-floor corridor, in the victim’s room. Even from the other side of the corridor, Lorenzo could clearly sense the overwhelming scent of blood, the dried blood stretching halfway along the hallway; it’s hard to envision such copious blood from a human body.

”I hope you’re prepared mentally; in all my years of working, this scene is among the most horrific I’ve witnessed,” the officer said uneasily, then stopped outside the cordon where he couldn’t advance.

”Would you like to come in?”

Lorenzo turned to Officer Pres to ask.

Listening to the officer’s description, Officer Pres seemed hesitant, admittedly curious, but fearing regret over this choice. However, a few seconds later, he nodded and followed Lorenzo into the room.

An almost tangible madness assaulted everything around them, and the blood tableau unfurled instantly before the two.