Chapter 1376: Chapter 1376

"I'm very curious. Since the underground crypts are usually locked, how did the murderer and the victim get down here?"

Jenkins inquired, bending to examine the bloodstains.

"I'm not the only one with a key," the old gravekeeper replied at a deliberate pace. "The lock I just opened was replaced last winter. Including mine, there are five keys in total. The town police have already started looking into where they all are. They believe it's a crucial lead."

The old gravekeeper answered slowly.

The lock to the cemetery's underground crypts was no ordinary mechanism. It was a new design, larger than four adult palms put together and composed of hundreds of intricate mechanical parts. Even the key's shape was unconventional. Such locks were a recent invention, a product of modern advancements in mechanics—nothing like it existed in Jenkins's original timeline. It couldn't be picked by simple means; as far as he knew, bank vaults were secured with similar devices.

But the difficulty of picking the lock was a barrier for ordinary people only. A Benefactor had countless ways to open a mechanism devoid of supernatural power. With this in mind, Jenkins carefully examined the corridor of the crime scene. Aside from the jumbled footprints and bloodstains, he detected the faint glimmer of a spiritual aura on the ground.

A small amount of spirit-infused material must have been scattered here a short while ago, which would explain the faint glow.

He then examined the lock again but found nothing new. Jenkins was now beginning to suspect that a Benefactor was the one committing these crimes.

Clues remained scarce, and the sun was already beginning to dip toward the horizon. When Jenkins returned to the police station, he happened to run into the police chief and his men just as they were returning. He tried his usual excuse—a writer gathering material—to ask about their progress, but unfortunately, the chief wasn't buying it.

He murmured to himself. Seeing that they were alone for the moment in the station corridor, he met the middle-aged chief's eyes and said:

"I am an absolutely good person, a person who can be trusted... What have you found out about the third victim?"

His frequent use of the power of lies had long since shattered the weekly limit of two uses; he was now up to four. And though Jenkins himself wasn't aware of it, his very existence was, in fact, spreading lies into the world with every passing moment.

"The third victim was the town's milkman, thirty-two-year-old Sidolov Carlos. He was found at the old riverbed ruins on the outskirts of town. We asked his wife where he was that night, and she told us Carlos had recently become obsessed with treasure hunting. He had somehow gotten his hands on a treasure map and went out last night to search for it." Thᴇ link to the origɪn of this information rᴇsts ɪn Nove1Fire.net

On reflection, all three victims had died at night and were found in very secluded places. Perhaps there was a common link.

"What about the other two victims? Were there any rumors about them hunting for treasure?"

"They were both bachelors who lived alone. We searched their homes but found no clues of value, so we can't say for sure."

These clues were incredibly useful. The killer's ability to locate his victims so precisely in the wilderness at night suggested he knew their plans in advance. It was highly likely, therefore, that the story of a treasure hunt was merely a lie—a pretext to lure the victims to a specific place at a specific time.

Jenkins requested the birth dates of all three victims, then marked the locations of their deaths on a town map. Though he had only been a Benefactor for six months, his theoretical knowledge was extensive. After testing a few arrangements, he understood what was happening: someone was performing what was known as a "Bloodthirst Ritual."

Even among the many infamous and illegal rituals, this one was quite notorious. Its infamy stemmed not only from its rudimentary nature but also because it was one of the few methods that allowed a Benefactor to draw spirit from an ordinary person's body to enhance their own power. However, the ritual had severe side effects. Besides making future advancement more difficult, it also damaged the Benefactor's psyche, causing aftereffects like vivid nightmares, as well as visual and auditory hallucinations.

In modern times, even the most depraved cultists avoided this ritual. After all, there were many ways to acquire spirit. Killing people for it was less efficient than offering living sacrifices to some terrifying entity, which would yield far greater rewards.

"So this is definitely the work of a Benefactor. That makes things easier."

The tallest building in town was the bell tower next to the mayor's house, a typical public facility in any human settlement.

Jenkins had the unicorn "airdrop" him onto the top of the bell tower. Clinging to the spire's lightning rod, he gazed out over the small town from his high vantage point. The town's scenery was beautiful. Compared to the bustling congestion of Nolan, life here must be quite peaceful.

But the life of the gentleman currently reading in the library on the east side of town was about to become anything but peaceful. Jenkins had him in his sights.

His target was a level-two Benefactor. Judging by the composition of his ability-auras, he only had a single divine art. He didn't seem like a member of a heretical cult, but rather one of those "lucky ones" who stumble into becoming a Benefactor—the kind of person with a natural talent who one day happens upon a mystical book, falls into a Mysterious Realm, or finds the notes of a dead Benefactor, and thus awakens their powers.

These "wild" Benefactors were extremely dangerous, even more so than the average cultist. They had no systematic training, no understanding of ritualistic taboos, and no fear of the power they wielded. If anything went wrong, they were utterly incapable of controlling the situation.

The young gentleman below was probably just such a case. After confirming the man had the ring associated with the first murder, Jenkins began to shadow him, watching him go from the library to a tavern, and then from the tavern to his home.

It was already four in the afternoon. Deciding the time was right, Jenkins posed as a utility worker checking the steam meter and knocked on the man's door. Before the young man could react, Jenkins struck him in the throat.

For an ordinary person, it would have been a fatal blow. For most Benefactors, too. But since the man didn't die instantly, Jenkins wasn't about to let him. Keeping him barely alive, he brought him to Viscount Franca's manor. "Viscount Franca" was still waiting for him in the study, looking as if he'd been reading there all afternoon.

"That was faster than I expected. Thank you for your help. This is the man I was looking for."

The two worldly deities met once more in the study. Outside the window, the afterglow of the setting sun painted the vast fields in shades of gold. The weather had been fine all day, and even the fading light felt pleasantly warm to Chocolate, who was nestled in Jenkins's arms.