The Bizarre Detective Agency

Chapter 918: Wanted

Like every hero whose story ends in failure, the wounded knight, Vino, received no hero's welcome.

He stood amidst a crowd, surrounded by faces brimming with energy, hope, and anticipation. They streamed off the ship with their luggage, arriving at what they hoped would be a long-awaited human sanctuary.

The weary knight seemed utterly out of place.

Pulling his linen hood tight against the piercing wind and snow that made the crowd tremble, Vino crossed the ice-hardened pier and made his way out of the port.

A few suspicious figures loitering nearby took one look at him and discreetly melted away.

Having lost his comrades and his armor, Vino moved like a zombie, oblivious to his surroundings as he stepped out onto the street.

The bustle of life was confined to the port, a fleeting energy that arrived with the ships. The snow-covered streets beyond were nearly deserted, save for a few Traders who, spotting the disembarking passengers, hurried forward to peddle their wares.

It grew colder in Winnelag with each passing day. The citizens hoped the situation would improve once the winter's misty tide receded, but the temperature was already plummeting to the lowest point in recent memory. And the dreaded New Year's frost was still over a month away.

Every day, someone froze to death. The thick smoke billowing from the chimneys almost formed another layer of dark clouds to smother Winnelag, making it even gloomier, yet the flimsy shacks offered no real protection from the biting cold.

If things got any worse, the streets would be littered with frozen corpses.Thank God, even in this bitter cold, the sea beyond Winnelag had not frozen over. Fishing boats returned to unload their catches by the minute, and with them came outsiders who would soon become new residents of the city.

Some of the townsfolk had gathered under a wooden awning near the port, praying by a stove alongside a priest.

The harsh winter was a punishment from the gods, they prayed. Only if the people believed with all their hearts would the gods take them back into their grace. That was their prayer.

A little girl carrying a basket approached the makeshift shelter, hoping to sell her wares, but the priest turned her away.

"Child, all I can offer you is a blessing."

Leaving the warmth of the stove behind, she returned to the icy street and saw a strange figure in a linen cloak walking alone through the storm.

He looked odd, but what could be more frightening than hunger and cold?

"Sir, would you like an amulet with an ancient mark? It will protect you from an anomaly's intrusion."

Vino stopped and lowered his head. He looked at the girl's hands, blue with cold, as she struggled to hold a basket filled with small wooden plaques carved with ancient markings.

"These ancient markings are incorrect."

Vino started walking again.

The girl hurried after him, rummaging through her basket.

"What about this one? Or these... Sir, my mother made them all herself..."

Vino stopped again. "Do you need the money that badly?"

"Yes... We're almost out of firewood at home. The hearth went cold last night, and my mother and I were freezing..."

Without a word, Vino took the last two hundred shillings from his pocket and tossed them into the girl's basket.

"You don't have to give me so much..."

While the girl hesitated, Vino had already moved on, disappearing into the misty blizzard.

Vino entered a church near the port. The homeless and the poor huddled between the pews while nuns handed out hot water and blankets.

Vino showed a nun the fist-shaped badge that had once been a symbol of honor. He was led to a private room in the back of the church to await the arrival of the Inquisition.

The wait was longer than he'd anticipated. Finally, footsteps echoed in the corridor outside. After a soft knock, a nun entered with a cup of hot coffee, set it on the table, and departed.

She left the door ajar, and just as Vino moved to close it, a figure appeared in the doorway. He was clad in magnificent clerical robes with gold trim, patterned ribbons, and a jeweled crown upon his head.

Vino sank to one knee in reverence, placing a hand over his heart. "Bishop Ussa. Vino, Steam Knight of the Inquisition, reporting."

"I am glad to see you have returned, Knight Vino. For the glory of humanity."

"For the glory of humanity."

"You have failed."

Bishop Ussa's words were soft. His old, gentle voice held no hint of reproach, only a world-weary compassion that made one want to weep and confess every grievance.

"...When we set out for the Old Sewer, Lord Lu Li was being pursued by an anomaly. The scholar, Lanna, died because of me. Captain Hoggart and his squire were killed by an anomaly."

Vino's voice broke. He took out the badges of his fallen comrades, still warm from his pocket: one in the shape of a head's silhouette, one in the form of a book, and a third, blank one, a token for the soul left behind in the depths of the Old Sewer.

The bishop's wise, blue eyes gazed down gently at the kneeling believer. "God is watching over you. He knows of your valiant deeds, and their souls will return to His embrace... As for the villain who orchestrated all this, he will face God's judgment."

"A villain? Your Excellency, I don't understand..." Vino raised his head.

"This is the Pope's decree, my child," Bishop Ussa said softly.

"If a villain hides his nature, performing good deeds only in service of a greater evil he means to unleash, does that make him any less of a villain?"

Vino was lost in confusion.

Bishop Ussa continued, "Upon receiving news of your return, the Inquisition issued a wanted notice to all newspaper editors for a corrupted exorcist."

Torn from his thoughts, Vino looked up in astonishment. The jingle of the few coins left in his pocket reminded him of the recent, yet seemingly distant, past: Lu Li's so-called 'evil' followers had escorted him out of the Old Sewer. They hadn't harmed a soul and had even given him a thousand shillings for his journey back.

"Your Excellency, this is wrong!" Having seen the world outside the city walls, Vino couldn't stop himself from defending Lu Li. "We shouldn't make an enemy of Lord Lu Li! He and his followers would never harm our people! He is on our side! We shouldn't be wasting our strength fighting each other..."

The bishop's eyes drooped with an old man's weariness, as if he were deeply disappointed in him. Without another word, he turned and left the room.

A faint voice drifted back from the hall.

"Our Steam Knight has already been corrupted... He is in need of purification."

...

"We all know what Lord Lu Li did in the Old Sewer. What more proof of his stance do we need?"

In the mayor's office, Mayor Matteus was shouting heatedly at a priest.

"I am merely relaying the Pope's order," the priest replied calmly.

"So you won't take a stand? You'll just prattle on about so-called 'purity'? Hah..."

Matteus gave a sharp, bitter laugh as he watched the priest leave his office.

Slam.

As his assistant, Valendo, closed the door, the mayor couldn't contain his rage. He swept a stack of books from his desk, sending them scattering across the carpet with a series of dull thuds.

"Damned fundamentalism!!!"

Valendo silently gathered the scattered books from the floor, straightened them into a neat pile, and placed them back on the desk.

"Mr. Mayor, there's nothing we can do."

Ever since his release from the Inquisition's dungeons, Matteus was still the mayor of Winnelag—in name only. In truth, he was a mayor whose every action was controlled by the Inquisition.

Mayor Matteus reined in his anger. "But we can't just do nothing... Valendo, summon a Trader. Tell Lord Lu Li what has happened here."