“The traces of Cursed Essence were so minute that I could only see them while wearing my Regalia,” Dante said, rubbing the side of his gloved thumb against his chin. “No wonder the Beacon did not detect this. It’s the perfect crime.”
“Will you inform Felix then?” Ace asked.
Dante pinched the bridge of his nose. His eyes rolled up, revealing the maze of thin red veins on the whites. “Eventually,” he replied after a beat, sighing heavily.
Ace held up the bomb. He released a breath he had not realised he had been holding and pressed the button. The bomb exhaled a mist of Essence that merged with his own, silver cutting through sapphire like moonlight through water. For a moment, he thought he felt Dr. Iwata’s soul against his skin – cool and slippery, slightly metallic. “I got some Essence from Dr. Iwata. His memories must give us some clues,” he said softly, using his ability to conjure Dr. Iwata’s memories carefully. “I didn’t dare ask for his permission…”
“Was that how you saw my memories?” Dante asked. A muscle twitched in his jaw, and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
“Uh-huh. But I didn’t need the bomb for yours.”
“I would not like something personal to be stored in something so… crude.”
By using Shiro as his guinea pig, Ace had honed this very technique, which he named ‘Inquiry’. Most of Shiro’s memories were of his daughter as she grew up. He was able to move Shiro's memory back and forth like a video, albeit not too far back in time. The quality of the memory depended on how clearly the other party remembered events. In short, recency and significance were the two important parameters that affected the quality of the manifestation.
“Show me the moment Dr. Iwata died,” Dante said.
Ace’s fingers were trembling slightly as he manipulated the memories. The silvery haze rippled, reshaping itself into the ghostly recreation of Dr. Iwata’s personal office. Dr. Iwata sat at the desk, flipping through a file.
Then the lines appeared.
They traced across Dr. Iwata’s right hand first. They were thin, dark fissures that split the skin so, so neatly. It was as though a surgeon was marking his body for dissection. Ace had to jerk away his gaze when Dr. Iwata split into slices of flesh and bone. Even without sound, he could hear it: the wet sound of flesh separating, the clatter of bone fragmenting into neat, impossible sections, and the thud of his head as it hit the ground.
Dante watched it all with the stillness of a man examining a specimen. “It started from the right hand,” he murmured, more to himself than to Ace. His eyes narrowed. “Go further back.”
Ace forced his hands steady and rewound the memory. The fragments of Dr. Iwata reassembled in reverse, flesh knitting together, the lines retreating like water flowing uphill. He stopped when the doctor stood whole again, moments before the end.
Dante leaned forward slightly. His finger rubbed against his Regalia in small back and forth motions as he scrutinised the memory. “Further.”
Dr. Iwata walked backwards through the corridors. Then he sat down at a bench and extended his hand. Another doctor clasped it in a firm handshake. Both cradled their own cups of coffee. Ace froze the memory. The two men sat suspended, hands locked together. “I think we have it,” he said quietly.
Dante said nothing, but his expression had gone cold and distant, the look of a man who had just confirmed something terrible “Perhaps, or perhaps not. It’s definitely the work of a sorcerer who knows the Cursed Arts.”
“And their ability could require touching another person,” Ace added. “Moreover, they can activate it remotely. That white guy was the last person to make contact with Dr. Iwata.”
“The patterns the lines made on their bodies… It matched the diagram I found in Dr. Iwata’s office: Lines of Langerhans. To use Cursed Essence with such precision requires some form of knowledge…” Dante trailed off. “The theory holds water…”
“He’s our guy. All we have to look for is a white doctor,” Ace said. “He’s quite the head-turner, isn’t he?”
“Not yet. Save a bit of Essence for now. We need it to build a case against our suspect.”
***
The man who last saw Dr. Iwata alive was identified as Dr. Johann Faust.
“I think Dr. Faust is the prime suspect,” Ace said as he walked abreast of Dante. They were headed to Dr. Faust’s office. “So why did we need to go through all those people first?”
“So that he does not know that we are onto him,” Dante replied.
Ace pulled the improvised notepad from his pocket. It was a collection of pages hastily stapled together. Inside were the minutes he had meticulously recorded from every conversation they’d had. It had taken so long that the hospital was already returning to normal operations.
The world still revolved regardless of the bloodshed on its earth.
“When we interview Dr. Faust later, do not make any judgment about him,” Dante instructed.
“So, head empty, no thoughts?” Ace asked. “Do you think he’s able to read our minds?”
“He can be more capable than we think. On that note, do not drink anything he offers.”
“That’s a bit of an overkill…”
“It pays to be cautious.”
When they reached the office, the door was already open for them. Dr. Faust welcomed them warmly.
“My name is Dante Higashino. This is my assistant, Ace, and we have come at the behest of Detective Michio Mikami.” Ace felt Dante squeeze his shoulder, and he bowed. A cursory glance at Dr. Faust’s office revealed that he was a very organised person. Two neat piles of files flanked Dr. Faust’s seat, and Ace hypothesised that one stack consisted of unread documents while the other contained the ones he had already gone through.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Ah, yes, he came by just now,” Dr. Faust said. “I suppose you’ve come with more questions, perhaps more prepared questions than what they fired at me earlier.”
“I hope we found you at a convenient time.”
“No trouble at all,” Dr Faust said as he poured out tea for them. “This is nothing compared to what happened this afternoon. Calling it a tragedy would be an understatement.”
“I suppose rumours are already rife,” Dante said.
“I didn’t see what happened, but I’ve heard about it. My goodness, I don’t know what to believe.” Dr. Faust shook his head sadly.
“We just have some questions about your relationship with Dr. Nori Iwata,” Dante said.
“Ah, we are colleagues. We work together closely. I mean worked. Can’t refer to him in the present tense, can we?” Dr. Faust remarked. “Sorry, I just don’t know how to feel about this.”
“Do you know of anyone who held a grudge against him? Did he offend anyone?” Dante asked.
“I can’t think of anyone at the moment. Though Dr. Iwata is traditional and conservative, he’s rather amicable and easy to get along with,” Dr. Faust said.
“Conservative? Have you disagreed with him on anything?”
“As people in the scientific community, there are times when we debate certain findings. It’s rather normal to have differing views on certain subject matters. However, at the end of the day, it’s just banter. No harsh feelings.”
Dante leaned back into his chair. “Dr. Faust, do you have a family?” he asked.
Dr. Faust let out a chuckle, “I have a wife and two children.”
He took out his wallet from his back pocket and took out a couple of pictures from the card compartment. There were a couple of passport pictures of his children and a photo of him together with his wife. He passed it to Dante.
“I wish I had a small enough picture of Elizabeth and her kids together so that I could bring it with me,” Dr. Faust said. “But these pictures have been with me for so long that I’ve grown attached to them. Haven’t taken them out since I changed my wallet a few years ago.”
“I presume that you have a good relationship with your wife?”
“Of course, we have been married for almost two decades!” Dr. Faust said. “When she wanted to move to Japan for her career, I gave her my blessings and we moved from Germany to Jap–”
A loud clatter interrupted Dr. Faust, who whirled around to see that a few files had slid off the table. As he bustled to pick them up, Dante moved.
Dante’s fingers found the photograph, lifting it with the delicate precision of a jeweller examining a stone. He rubbed the surface between thumb and forefinger. In a motion so quick that Ace almost missed it, Dante brought the photo to his nose. His eyes closed briefly as he inhaled, searching for something in the scent.
By the time Dr. Faust refocused his attention on them, the photograph was already back on the desk, placed with the others in a neat, undisturbed arrangement. Dante's hands rested casually in his lap as if they had never moved at all. His face remained expressionless.
“That’s all we have for you today.” Dante stood up and held out his hand. “Thank you for your time.”
“No problem. If you have any more questions, feel free to approach me.” Dr. Faust shook it firmly, much to Ace’s terror. He quickly concealed his feelings by shooting Dr. Faust a stiff smile before shuffling out of the room.
***
The sun was about to set when Dante and Ace left the hospital. “Why did you touch him?!” exclaimed Ace the moment they were out of earshot.
“What did I say about alerting him that we are already on his tail?” Dante shook his head. “Any deviation from the norm would alert an astute man like him. We cannot afford to cause alarm when the investigation has just begun.”
“All of the people we interviewed didn’t give off any weird vibes,” Ace remarked. “Even Dr. Faust. I know he’s the main suspect, but there’s nothing in his testimony that betrays any malice he has towards Dr. Iwata or any of the victims. There’s consistency in his statement as well.”
“You are right about him not betraying any malice, but wrong about him being consistent.”
“Huh?”
“Take a look at your notes.”
Ace flipped to the part which contained the conversation between Dante and Dr. Faust. “I don’t see anything here that screams ‘I’m a murderer’, ” he said.
“He and his wife have been married for almost twenty years, yet he refers to their children as his wife’s children,” Dante said. “The children do resemble him a fair bit. They should be his biological children.”
“Now that you talk about it, it is odd,” Ace said. “But we could be reading too much into it.”
“He has a cheap, unbranded wallet. Its card compartment has a clear plastic screen, likely made from PVC. Yet, he was able to take out all the photos with relative ease. The photo of him and his wife had a glossy and sticky surface. An inkjet photo, to be specific,” Dante said. “Plastic, combined with body heat, would make that photo stick to the inner walls of the compartment. It is not possible to remove a stuck photo without some damage to the print. He also said that he had not taken out the photos for years after changing his wallet. By right, there should have been even more resistance when he took it out.”
Ace jogged a bit ahead so that he was able to face Dante. “Wait, was that why you were sniffing the photos?” he asked as he walked backwards. “The files! You made them fall!”
Dante shrugged. “The photos do smell quite fresh, though they have, allegedly, been in that wallet for years.”
“So that means…”
“He printed and put the photos in very recently.”
“But he has a solid alibi. His colleagues testified that he had been working on a case and hadn’t shown any unusual behaviour. He has to have some sort of chant or talisman to activate his ability remotely, right?”
“Alibis are useless in our world,” Dante said. “There’s no hurry, though. I doubt he will strike again soon. The adrenaline might be too much for a first-time killer. Time is on our side.”
The autumn wind blew, and a chill ran down Ace’s spine. At the same time, Dante stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder for a brief moment.
“What is it?” Ace asked.
Dante’s eyes narrowed into slits. He seemed to be in deep thought for a moment, but eventually shook his head. “Nothing,” he said as he resumed walking.
Ace chose not to pursue the question. All he wanted to do was to wash off the stench of death at the first opportunity.
***
“Siren, did you fart?” Narcissus slid his sunglasses down his nose as he watched the two Aberrants become pinpricks on the horizon.
“Speak for yourself,” Siren retorted as she lowered the papers, which were hiding her face. “Conceal your eyes before anyone else notices.”
“I was trying to see if the little one would notice me,” Narcissus whined as those golden eyes of his turned brown. “Anywho, it seems that your little plan is going quite well.”
“It is progressing a bit too quickly for my liking,” Siren pointed out. “How troublesome, and in a manner entirely different from the Flame Purist. It seems that Proteus’s reports still stand true even after all these years.”
“Mostly,” Narcissus quipped. “What will you do then?”
“Expedite the transfer of power, of course,” Siren declared. “It is time to officiate my relationship with my dearest Johann.”
Dark steampunk fantasy webnovel
What to expect:
- Dark steampunk-inspired power fantasy with extensive world-building
- Magic systems where power comes at a psychological cost
- Visceral, well-choreographed combat sequences
- Mysteries that unfold across multiple volumes
- Steampunk aesthetics merged with elemental magic
- Stories where the actors are often found in morally grey areas
This work will appeal to readers who enjoyed: Works of Dan Simmons (Hyperion, Drood, The Terror), The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, A Song of Ice and Fire, Fullmetal Alchemist, HunterxHunter.
More influences and details can be found on the novel's page.
Chapters (1200 - 1500 words) are released daily at 20:00 (8 PM) GMT+1