After dealing with Glaaki, Duanmu Huai set out once more and continued on toward Cornwall.
As for the follow-up resolution of the commission, he had left that to the Foundation to handle. The simplified version was: two deranged killers had been using the hotel as a front to hunt down guests at their leisure. Mr. James had unfortunately become one of their victims, and when Duanmu Huai and his fellow investigators arrived, the killers grew nervous and attempted to eliminate them — only to be killed in the process.
As for the wounds on the bodies, they were the result of the two killers' depraved and sadistic abuse.
Well, for a newspaper story aimed at the general public, something along those lines would do.
That was entirely reasonable — it was considerably better than printing "two cultists worshipping an alien Great Old One had been converting hotel guests into zombies."
Incidentally, the Foundation did have some complaints for Duanmu Huai, because he had burned all the alien remains — including Glaaki's — meaning the only thing the Foundation actually recovered was the alien city itself. They would have much preferred to capture such creatures alive for study and research. But from Duanmu Huai's perspective...…that was obviously not going to happen.
The reason he had handed over a living Mi-Go to the Foundation was that the Mi-Go were an entire species — Duanmu Huai didn't have a fleet in this world and was in no position to wipe them out at the moment, and besides, with so many of them around, losing one or two was inconsequential.
But Glaaki was a singular creature. And of course, from the Inquisition's perspective, when it came to rare creatures existing in such limited numbers, the best course of action was complete extermination.
After all, once a species was extinct, it posed no further threat to humanity.
How rare or significant it might be in the grand scheme of things was not something the Inquisition concerned itself with.
The Foundation was quite displeased about this, but as an [Inquisitor], Duanmu Huai wasn't about to back down on the matter. They were only partners — if the Foundation wasn't happy about it, they were welcome to go get themselves killed dealing with it themselves. Not his problem.
"Hmm...…"
But sitting in the cargo hold, Mary was lost in somewhat heavy thought, her eyes distant. She unconsciously reached out and touched her lower abdomen, her mind in turmoil.
What was that mark?
Mary had no memory of ever having such a mark — she was certain it hadn't been there before, and she had no idea when it had appeared.
Come to think of it...…was it a tattoo?
As a girl from a respectable family, Mary had always kept as far from that sort of thing as possible, and had never once thought she would ever have a tattoo. She could only imagine what Shirley and Ashelica would do if they saw it — they'd probably faint on the spot. Though, the one who most wanted to faint right now was probably herself.
Did joining the Inquisition come with a tattoo?
Mary had quietly asked Lorena about it, but Lorena looked genuinely puzzled in response.
"I haven't seen anything like that. I don't think Miss Kanami or Miss Lia or any of the others have had marks like that either."
These were all names Mary didn't recognize, but the real question was — what on earth was it?
The meaning of a skull and a warhammer was something Mary had already learned from watching the Inquisition's corporate culture introduction reel, so this was definitely something connected to the Inquisition. She was just somewhat hesitant about whether to bring it up with Duanmu Huai. After all, she was still a young lady, and discussing a pattern on her lower abdomen with a man...…that was still quite embarrassing for a girl to contemplate.
"What is it?"
Perhaps sensing Mary's gaze, Duanmu Huai looked over at her. Mary blinked, then shook her head.
"No, it's, it's nothing...…"
As she said this, Mary lowered her head — but quickly thought of something else, and looked back up at Duanmu Huai.
"Ah, right, Mr. Duanmu — there's something I'd like to discuss with you."
"What is it?"
"Well, I'd like to write this journey into a novel...…"
What Mary told Duanmu Huai was an idea she'd had for some time — to be like Watson beside Holmes, recording cases and then writing them up as stories. But it was the first Duanmu Huai had heard of it, and he actually showed a rare expression of mild surprise.
"You want to turn these investigation cases into novels?"
"Yes...…is that alright??"
"I have no objections. A few words of advice, though."
"Advice?"
"That's right. First, everyone who appears in it other than you and me must use a false name."
"That I already know."
After all, personal privacy and personal information needed to be protected — especially since what Duanmu Huai and Mary handled was nothing like the ordinary criminal cases in the Holmes stories.
"And regarding the creatures inside, you cannot write their real names."
"Hm? I can't?"
"That's right. These Outer Gods and similar beings are extremely sensitive in this regard. If you write their names and readers encounter them, the act of their minds registering those names could make them targets for Evil Gods and monsters. So even in a written record, you must never write their true names."
"That sounds like a curse."
"In practice it more or less is. What you're essentially thinking of doing is writing a new Necronomicon."
"The Necronomicon? What's that — it sounds like a magic book. I'm just thinking of writing a straightforward story...…"
"That's fine. As long as you follow what I've said, it'll be alright...…as for publication, what are your plans? I can help if you need it."
"That would be nice, but I'd like to try submitting it myself."
"Then it comes down to your own ability."
Hearing this, Lorena leaned over with excitement from beside them.
"Miss Mary, are you going to become a writer?"
"I just enjoy writing stories."
Mary wasn't being untruthful. She had loved writing stories since childhood, and Shirley had been her very first reader. In fact, becoming a published novelist was one of her career aspirations — though at this rate, she was beginning to suspect she was going to end up as a horror writer.
"Can I appear in it too?"
"Of course — as long as Miss Lorena permits me to use your name."
"Naturally! This would be the first time I've ever seen my own name in a novel — it'll definitely be very exciting. Do your best, Miss Mary!"
With that topic introduced, the two girls fell into an animated conversation. It seemed Lorena actually quite enjoyed reading as well...…well, that was hardly surprising. A person who disliked books wouldn't carry one around everywhere and regularly use it to smack people in the face.
That probably counted as fondness for books, right?
The rest of the journey went smoothly, and amid Lorena and Mary's lively chatter, the group finally arrived in Cornwall and met the client — Mr. Best Hank.
Earl Best was a white-haired old man in his seventies who still carried himself with considerable vigor. His reason for calling on Duanmu Huai was straightforward enough — the Hank family was one of the prominent names in the area this generation. Though they held no official governmental authority over the region, they were something like the wealthy gentry of ancient China — controlling the livelihoods and industries of the surrounding area, their influence was substantial.
For exactly this reason, when the vampire incidents began in Cornwall and the police investigation yielded nothing, the indignant old man had decided to look into it himself. Through the Baroness, who had had a similar experience, he heard about Duanmu Huai and brought him in.
"I carry a certain amount of weight around here. If you run into any trouble, feel free to use my name — and if someone still won't cooperate, contact me directly."
Though he was in his seventies, Earl Best's bearing remained formidable, and he had an air of someone who did not yield easily.
"That's generous of you. But Mr. Best, what's your own view on all this?"
"What do you mean?"
"About the vampire business. Do you believe in it, honestly?"
"Frankly? Not particularly."
Earl Best gave his answer without hesitation.
"And if vampires did exist, wouldn't behaving this way be rather stupid?"
"Oh?"
"Think about it — according to legend, vampires are cunning and malevolent creatures. If they truly wanted to control this area, they could simply come to me, turn me into their servant, then convert all the city officials one by one — and then do as they pleased with the whole place without any resistance. But the victims have all been nothing but laborers. Isn't that rather foolish?"
Indeed, as Earl Best said — if vampires of legend truly possessed such abilities, the first targets should logically be those who actually held power in the area. After all, this wasn't the Middle Ages. Back then, nobles and high officials were surrounded by armed retinues, but in this era, even a mayor wouldn't necessarily have bodyguards when going out. Someone like Earl Best would have had a full entourage in the Middle Ages — these days he might not have more than a handful of guards.
Which actually meant that for vampires, attacking modern-day people of local authority would be far easier than it had ever been in the past.
"So what do you think it is?"
"Honestly? I don't know. If I were a few decades younger, I might have chalked it up to some kind of gang activity. But I'm old now — I've seen enough to know that there are things in this world beyond our understanding. Since the Baroness of Baskerville recommended you so strongly, I don't imagine you're the kind of fool who makes things up. And at my age, I no longer have any interest in chasing after secrets. The only thing I want now is for this land to return to peace...…"
At that, Earl Best let out a long breath.
"You probably don't know this, but this city wasn't always like this. Even at night, people used to go out — to the pub for a drink, to watch football, to meet someone at a café. But now, once the sun goes down, everyone shuts themselves inside. Even the shops close. Looking out from up here, it's all pitch black below — someone who didn't know any better might think the whole city had simply ceased to exist."
As he spoke, Earl Best glanced out the window, his white brows furrowed sharply.
"Honestly, I don't know whether it's some creature causing this, or gang warfare, or something else entirely. I only want it to end. That's why I invited you all here — if you can resolve this for me, that's all I ask."
"Thank you for your understanding. We'll do what we can to deal with the problem."
Perhaps owing to his age, after a brief conversation with Duanmu Huai and the others, Earl Best retired to rest. Duanmu Huai picked up his cup of tea and shrugged.
"I have to say, dealing with someone sharp like that is refreshingly easy. An ideal client."
"An ideal client?"
Hearing that, Mary tilted her head curiously, notebook in hand, and looked at Duanmu Huai.
"That's right. Investigators encounter all kinds of clients, but quite a few of them are the sort who simply can't face reality. For example — the situation is clearly not what they think, but they insist we report back to them that it is. In simple terms, it's like forcing a doctor to tell every patient they only have a cold, no matter what they actually diagnose, or else the client throws a fit...…of course, if I ran into a client like that I'd have shown them the door by now."
After all, Duanmu Huai was not the sort of person to simply take that lying down.
"Alright then."
He set down his teacup and stood up.
"Let's begin the investigation."
(End of Chapter)