Detective Guide to the Steam World

Clues Deliberately Left in Chapter 5

Backtracking.

This is the ability Kent possesses; more precisely, it is the ability he gained after successfully awakening his Stigmata.

It sounds impressive, but it's actually just okay.

Not only does it lack any other self-defense capabilities, but its maximum rewind time is only two minutes, and it can only be used on itself and can only be triggered upon death.

According to official sources, the so-called "sacred marks" are blessings bestowed by the gods, and those who awaken the sacred marks are collectively referred to as extraordinary individuals.

But in Rean's view, the Stigmata, though called a blessing, are more like a curse.

Just as great power often comes with risks, so too does the Stigmata have significant drawbacks.

First of all, it's unstable.

After becoming a superhuman, one's mind will occasionally be filled with inexplicable ramblings. If one is attracted to them, mental breakdown is the least of one's worries; there is a greater possibility of directly transforming into some kind of special monster.

The official explanation is—a test from the gods!

Sometimes even Rean couldn't help but marvel at how wonderful the gods were.

It's so convenient that they can pin everything on them.

Secondly, there are the negative effects of becoming a superhuman.

This situation varies from person to person and can be quite unique.

For example, Kent suffered a negative effect: his body's resistance to poison was greatly reduced. A dose of poison that would kill an ordinary person only needed to be reduced by half to send Kent to heaven to meet the goddess.

How one becomes an extraordinary being is entirely random and depends on luck.

However, there are rumors circulating in the underworld of Fog Harbor that the church possesses methods to induce awakening.

As for whether it's true or false, no one knows.

"Damn Rean! This time it's different, completely different!"

Kent stared at the small silver bottle with a trembling expression. "I've been poisoned by dozens of different kinds of poisons, but this is unlike any I've ever tasted!"

"Oh? What's different?"

Rean tossed the small silver bottle in his hand. "Tell me more about it."

"This thing can control a person's mind!"

"Mind control?"

"That's right, otherwise you thought I was poisoned? Actually, I strangled myself to death!"

Kent touched his neck with lingering fear, his voice tinged with dread, "That damn feeling, I never want to experience it again!"

It can control minds and cause people to commit suicide...

Rean looked at the small silver bottle in his hand, narrowed his eyes slightly, and fell into deep thought.

It's obvious that ordinary poisons wouldn't have such magical effects; this thing must be related to the extraordinary.

Cyril is just an ordinary person, does he need to be treated so complicatedly?

There are countless ways to silently kill an ordinary person in this world; at least Rean himself knows dozens.

Seeing that Rean ignored him, Kent was about to complain again after his idea to change the profit-sharing ratio failed for the fourteenth time, but then he suddenly seemed to have thought of something and his eyes lit up.

"Speaking of which... could this perfectly explain why Cyril, a devout believer, committed suicide?"

Rean nodded noncommittally. "That can be explained."

"Doesn't that mean that if we find who put this bottle of holy oil here, we'll find the culprit?"

Kent looked excited, as if he could already see the 50 pounds waving at him.

Rean glanced at him and said gently, "Dear Mr. Kent, I sometimes really envy your brain; it's just as clean and clear as the college students back home."

"What do you mean?"

Kent looked at him suspiciously. "You think I'm wrong?"

"Of course not."

Rean put the small silver bottle into his pocket, intending to have it appraised when he had time. "As an item that could explain Cyril's cause of death, it's just sitting there so openly, as if it's afraid we won't see it."

"And have you forgotten? The butler said that everything Cyril used had been destroyed, so why was this important item left undestroyed?"

"Don't you think all of this is too much of a coincidence?"

"Now that you mention it, it does seem like there are quite a few coincidences."

Kent pondered for a moment, nodded in agreement, and then asked with some doubt, "But what would be the motive for deliberately leaving this bottle of holy oil? Wouldn't it be better to completely erase the evidence?"

"Deliberately misleading, concealing the truth, framing someone, or intentionally leading us to investigate along this line of inquiry... there are just too many possibilities."

Rean shrugged. "Not all evidence needs to be completely destroyed; that's not the best way to handle it."

"Mr. Kent, as a detective, you must learn to deduce the mind of criminals. This technique is called elementary deduction in my hometown, and it is the signature skill of a great detective. You must learn it well."

"If I could learn all that, I would have gone out on my own long ago!"

Kent muttered something in dissatisfaction, then scratched his hair in frustration.

"If this clue was deliberately left behind, then it's worthless, isn't it? Did I die for nothing?"

"No, quite the opposite," Rean smiled gently. "This clue is very valuable."

"Very valuable?"

"Yes, whether this clue is deliberately misleading or for some other reason, it proves at least three things."

Rean held up three fingers and waved them in front of Kent. "First, it completely proves that Cyril's death was not simply a suicide."

"Secondly, through this bottle of holy oil, we can also deduce that the person who left this clue must be related to Cyril's cause of death."

"Third, the murderer must be inside this mansion!"

"etc!"

Kent looked puzzled. "I understand the first two points, but what about the third? Why are you so sure the killer is someone from the manor?"

"Isn't it possible that someone hired someone to commit murder? I don't understand."

"Isn't this obvious?"

Rean smiled. "Holy oil, a religious item, is only sold in churches. Do you think a church would murder a devout believer?"

"That's definitely not the case."

Kent shook his head without even thinking.

Every devout believer is a precious asset to the church, not to mention that the Fletcher family alone donates as much as £700 a year to the church, so the church has no incentive to do this.

"Holy oil isn't for drinking; it's for applying to the skin."

Rean patiently continued, "To achieve the effect of controlling the mind, it requires at least years of consistent application."

"And excluding the church, and excluding the deceased Cyril, only the people in this mansion would have the opportunity to easily access this bottle of holy oil and replace or replenish its original contents."

"Given such a long timeframe, if you were the person behind it all, would you have chosen to hire a hitman?"

At this point, Rean shrugged. "Of course, all of this speculation is based on the premise that Cyril's death was indeed caused by this bottle of holy oil, and it can be overturned at any time."

"However, we don't have any other ideas right now, so we can only follow this lead."

"I get it! Rean, you truly are the best detective in Fog Harbor!"

Kent suddenly realized, offered a sincere compliment, and then asked with great enthusiasm:

"So what do we do now? Should we investigate the origin of the holy oil first, or investigate the other people in this mansion?"

"These two things do not conflict and can be done simultaneously."

Rean pushed open the door to the room. "Let's go. Let's find out from the butler how many people are in this mansion and whether there are any suspicious individuals."

"Leave now?" Kent hesitated. "Aren't you going to investigate this room further?"

"It's unnecessary."

Rean turned and walked out of the room without looking back. "Now that we've found this bottle of holy oil, they won't leave us with many clues. Staying here will only be a waste of time."