The Bizarre Detective Agency

Chapter 465: The First Believer. The Second Believer

The oil lamp on the table cast a dim, yellow glow that seemed confined to the confessional, as if the space inside and the world outside were two entirely separate realms.

And in a way, they were. If this were the real world, Lu Li would currently be submerged nearly a hundred feet beneath the water.

Beyond the carved screen, a woman with calloused hands picked up a slip of paper and slowly began to write of her troubles.

Olivia Kiken might not have been the most devout of parishioners, but she made a point of visiting the church one day each month.

This was her second visit this month, a visit prompted by tragedy.

Her youngest son had suffered an asthma attack and was coughing up blood. The clinic doctor had told her the illness was advanced; stabilizing his condition would require extensive treatment, and even then, a full recovery was not guaranteed.

The staggering cost of the treatment was far beyond the means of Olivia Kiken, a simple peasant woman who had already lost her husband. In her desperation, she had come to the church to pour out her heart in the confessional.

There was little Lu Li could do to help her.

He had money, but he couldn't pass shillings through the small opening. Or rather, he could have, but the woman in the confessional seemed oblivious to any money he might place on the table. She was waiting for the "Lord" on the other side of the screen to help her through the truth written on paper.

More accurately, she was hoping that the God she had always believed in would heal her son.Lu Li couldn't just write, "Everything will be all right." He truly couldn't help Olivia Kiken. After a moment's thought, he wrote on the paper:

— Perhaps you could be helped by lesser-known doctors who practice folk medicine, or by retired physicians, or even by wealthy individuals known for their charity. You can ask your neighbors about the first two. To find the last, try approaching any affluent people you might know, or go to their homes and tell them of your plight.

It was all Lu Li could offer.

The woman took the slip of paper. After a brief silence, she spoke with unconcealed disappointment, "Thank you, Lord... As soon as little Kiken is well, I will bring him to church..."

Olivia Kiken rose from her stool and made her way toward the exit. Her indistinct silhouette gradually faded from view.

"Is that it?" Lu Li wondered as the sound of the organ washed over the church. Suddenly, the light beyond the screen began to shift.

Normally, such changes were barely perceptible, but now, as if on fast-forward, the shadows cast by the carved screen danced and shifted, clearly marking the passage of time.

The change lasted only a few seconds, but the dim light outside had taken on the hue of sunset. A ray from the setting sun slanted across the stool opposite the opening.

— Did you hear? Olivia was run down by Viscount Levais's carriage...

— Who's Olivia?

— The woman who came this morning. Her child is sick, and she has no money for treatment, so she came to the church for help.

— And? How did she get hit by the Viscount's carriage?

— Who knows? After leaving the church, she started asking everyone about good, affordable doctors, but where can you find someone like that? Then, like a madwoman, she threw herself in front of a rich man's carriage to complain about her fate. Viscount Levais's horses shied and ran her over.

— What a terrible story... But surely her son will get some compensation now, and he'll have money for his treatment?

— Compensation? What compensation would they pay for a madwoman who threw herself under the wheels? If she hadn't died, Viscount Levais would have made her pay for it.

— Ah...

The quiet voices gradually receded, and the confessional grew darker and darker until it was plunged into a complete blackness, broken only by the faint glow of the oil lamp.

Lu Li stood. The encroaching darkness signaled the end of the trial. Whatever its purpose, it seemed he had failed.

Picking up the lamp, he turned to leave the confessional, but stopped short.

The steps outside had changed.

The change was obvious: the walls and steps had become more dilapidated.

Like the crumbling columns of an ancient temple, bearing the scars of time and decay, the walls and steps had taken on the same appearance.

But the ruined walls didn't let in more light, as one might expect. On the contrary, the luminescence of the stone had grown dimmer, as if the light emanated from within the walls themselves and was fading as they crumbled.

This clearly did not bode well.

"Is failure causing this place to decay?" Lu Li wondered, stepping out of the confessional.

The carved door swung shut behind him. Lu Li glanced back at it for a moment before continuing down the steps.

After descending the crumbling steps to the next landing, he saw another carved door at the bottom of the staircase.

The same confessional, the same scent of wood, the same soothing strains of the organ.

This time, however, two phrases were crudely scratched into the carved screen:

[Only truth can win the hearts of the people.]

[Ignorance is not a sin; pride is.]

Lu Li compared them to the inscriptions from before. If they were hints, did the first phrase mean he was supposed to use "the truth" to help the person seeking aid?

As for the second phrase, its meaning still eluded him. Any attempt to connect it to his experience only resulted in ambiguous interpretations.

He sat on the stool. Just as before, a silhouette soon appeared in the distance.

It was the silhouette of a man.

When the figure took the seat opposite him, Lu Li's guess was confirmed.

"Lord... I have sinned... I beg you, forgive my sins..." the man stammered, his voice trembling. His knees were pressed tightly together, his white-knuckled fingers twisting nervously.

"What have you done?" Lu Li wrote, passing the note through the opening.

"I... I killed a man," the man replied, his trembling voice laced with both fear and a deep, simmering hatred.

He began to tell his story:

A gang of hooligans had been harassing his daughter, but he hadn't known a thing about it. Not until the day he saw them drag her into an alley.

The man, having just returned from the sawmill, was blinded by rage and rushed to save her.

It could have ended there. If he had simply warned the hooligans to stay away from his daughter and they had agreed, it would have been a decent outcome. But the enraged man grabbed an axe and attacked them.

He couldn't recall all the details, only that when he left, one of the hooligans lay motionless, another's chest was barely rising and falling, and the third had staggered away, crying.

Now, consumed by remorse, the man pleaded, "Tell me, should I turn myself in to the police? Will I go to hell? What will happen to my daughter? Help your faithful servant..."