"Ah... I should go back to the store and have another look." Merka walked out of the witch Solace's small shop. The street was quiet at this time. Even though it was broad daylight, Merka couldn't see a single person on the street.

Many shops were open, but they had almost no business.

Everyone was scared by the serial killer cases and the explosion at the Naphthalene Station.

Few people dared to go out casually anymore.

"Could it be true that the witch is really dead..."

"It's hard to imagine... She was such a powerful woman, yet she was easily..."

Merka walked aimlessly on the street, holding his cheek, lost in thought.

"But if the witch really died, then her wand is almost certainly a relic."

"That day... that man in black seemed to be using the witch's wand, it looked odd."

Merka tried hard to remember the details of that day when he fought the man in black. But because it was very dark at the time, the scene in Merka's memory also became blurry.

"So... it seems that the witch and the man in black are definitely connected. The witch made a move, and the man in black got the wand and started killing. But the timing doesn't match with the killer who started a year ago, the only suspect left is the chef."

"Logically, reporting the chef should close the case." Although Merka came up with what seemed like the right answer, there was no substantial evidence, which made Merka feel uneasy.

"But... why do I have such a strong turmoil in my heart?" Merka drooped his eyes and tightly gripped the area of his heart with his right hand, a speechless feeling of powerlessness quietly dominating him.

"Why... is everyone in such a hurry?"

"So hurriedly, hurriedly..."

"How did things develop to this point..."

"Clearly, many times if we just sat down and talked things through, it would have been fine..."

It's so painful, really painful.

Clearly, in other countries, there are still many places where there is continuous unrest for basic food.

But even here, in our so-called Acadia 'Paradise', we can't live in a real paradise.

Who is responsible for those who died?

"Clearly, the mastermind, the witch, doesn't know where she went." Merka walked alone on the street, although it was strange that the surroundings had already turned desolate, he remained immersed in his own thoughts.

Unconsciously, Merka arrived at the place of sadness in his memory. The Kismet Hotel.

The glass windows that hid dirt, and the grey facade, these scenes that could never move him in the past flashed through Merka's mind like lightning.

Continuously reminding him, making him remember, making him never forget, the last time he saw the manager, that weeping face.

Each and every one of them... clearly none of them deserve to endure such suffering.

Merka was almost unable to control his emotions, burying his face deeply in his hands. He forcefully pinched his face, slightly adjusting his emotions.

Merka pushed open the door and entered the store. The bloody scene had already been mostly cleaned up, only some long-unattended mess remained.

Merka went straight to the kitchen and saw the outline of Judah's body marked with white lines.

"Sigh..." Merka surveyed the surroundings, touched and prodded, confirming that there were no clues like last time.

"Right, I haven't seen the wall with writing on it yet." Merka returned to the first-floor dining area of the hotel and saw the circle of white lines belonging to Prince An.

Once again, the lament from Manager Wutong, who was about to take office but died an untimely death, echoed in Merka's mind, causing a pang in his heart. Determined, Merka squatted down and examined the blood words on the wall, one by one.

"In the name of God... these words are probably the chef's attempt to frame Judah."

"Still lacking 40 for the hundred-people beheading... is this an imitation of the serial killer's tone?"

"The rounded corners, isn't this a symbol from theology? Did he learn theology specifically to frame someone..."

"Ah, there's also a drawing of Apple Pie, which Manager Wutong likes to eat. The drawing is a mess..." Merka pondered, leaning against the wall.

The clues are indeed chaotic, but the most crucial thing is...

"We heard the gunshot and rushed to the scene immediately. How did he manage to draw so much in such a short time?" Merka thought back to the battle with the man in black, especially the black tentacles, which were particularly memorable.

"If it's that kind of flexible organ... then it's possible. But I've never heard of such magic before," Merka pondered, carefully examining the messy drawings, imagining the image of the man in black using tentacles to write.

"And why leave behind clues? That would only make people scrutinize and find loopholes... as long as the police are willing to spend some time," Merka held his chin, his serious expression revealing a masculine charm on his youthful face.

"By the way... maybe he wanted to delay..."

Unexpectedly, the lonely sound of the doorbell interrupted Merka's soliloquy.

"Merka, what are you doing here?" Wutong, looking tired, pushed open the door, his childish face suddenly seemed to age ten years.

"Manager?" Merka saw Wutong and his mouth seemed to be stuck, unable to say anything.

"I came to check the newspaper... but it seems that there isn't one today," Wutong had subscribed to the local daily newspaper, Red Port, and it would be delivered to the hotel every day, but recently it seemed like they stopped delivering.

"I used to disdain those trivial matters that happened every day by my doorstep."

"I never expected that in just one day... no, a few hours, the entire building would collapse."

"Now I'm starting to believe what those cultists who used to shout about the end of the world at my doorstep said."

"Perhaps I deserve it, fantasizing about a better life." Merka listened to Wutong's words, feeling at a loss.

He racked his brains and realized that the only thing he could do was nod occasionally to show that he was listening.

"Well, sorry for complaining to you. You're a good kid, Merka." Wutong forced a smile and said.

Wutong took out a tobacco pipe from his pocket, sprinkled some ash into it, and placed it where Prince An died.

"For a cigarette, quietly burning out and extinguishing, it is the best interpretation of a valuable life." Wutong's eyes were dim and cool. He had a profound understanding of Red Port's burial customs.

"Next, I'm going to the church to pray for them both. Of course, I'll also pray for the people who died at Xiniang Station. Do you want to come with me?" Wutong asked.

Merka nodded imperceptibly.

—————————————————————

"No... this can't be! I don't agree with this outcome." Turing's body almost trembling with anger.

[Are you kidding me? I've done everything, running away from home, lying, killing, and maybe even about to fall in love soon.]

[I've done everything I can to rebel against my mother, and you're saying that deep down, I don't actually want to break free from her control?]

"I'm going to try again, right now!" Turing declared, immediately pulling back a full bow, his momentum pushing towards the target.

"What are you doing!? Do you think this is your elementary school exam? If you miss once, you miss. Even if you try a hundred more times, you still won't hit it!" Raphael made a move as if to snatch Turing's arrow.

Of course, in the struggle, Turing missed once again.

"What are you doing!" A terrifying surge of magical power erupted from Turing's body, causing Raphael to take a step back.

"Oh, so you're going to use your favorite violence again, huh? Impressive, you're just like your damn mother, both stubborn and aggressive. Your mind can't tolerate even a single word from others!" Despite the fearless content of Raphael's words, her fearful tone and demeanor betrayed the fact that she wasn't completely without fear.

"But even so, even if you're just a dog tied to your mother's leash, I still have to tell you something." Raphael changed her usual sweet voice, using her powerful voice to overpower Turing.

"..." Turing fell silent, a hint of chilling aura corroding both his body and mind.

"Do you know about the devastating wildfire that occurred over a decade ago, causing countless deaths and being labeled as a natural disaster?"

"Do you know who was behind it?" Raphael's expression turned furious, yet his tone remained icy calm.