Chapter 33: Zombie (One)

“I really can’t imagine they dared to do this…” It wasn’t until the carriage began heading towards their home that Consens hesitantly spoke up. He seemed to have been pondering the possibility of Constantine’s deduction earlier, but his thoughts were clearly not flowing smoothly. “I have to say this plan is really a bit… childish. Aren’t they afraid of accidentally harming some important figures? You know, that initial chaos could easily lead to unexpected dangers…”

“There’s no distinction between a plan being childish or mature. The only distinction is whether they succeeded or not…” Constantine responded absentmindedly. The slight jolting of the wheels on the stone slabs was making his head feel a bit dizzy. Was this the effect of the alcohol earlier? “Even the most meticulous plan is just a few steps. As long as the outcome is ensured, the process isn’t important…”

“And didn’t you notice? At the beginning, that unlucky fellow introduced us to a few relatively important people, but they all seemed to be just idle figures, or those in charge of insignificant positions. Even if there were scions of some great families… they were, at most, only at the level of second sons. As for those not introduced, they were probably second or third-rate nobles. Except for us, who attended to practice social skills… there didn’t seem to be any nominally important figures. But the age gap ensured we wouldn’t be at the center of that storm. Plus, they mostly took female hostages, further lowering the possibility of bad consequences…” Pausing, the young man addressed his still-confused younger brother. He wasn’t really in the mood to educate him, but talking seemed to ease the dizziness a bit.

“But those mercenaries mixed in with the peasants… aren’t they easily recognizable? Someone could easily spot they aren’t ordinary farmers…” Consens still couldn’t figure it out.

“Those guys certainly aren’t ordinary mercenaries. They are, or rather they were, specifically raised Household Knights of certain families. Not only can they silence witnesses if necessary, but even if problems arise, those peasants would only know they were hired mercenaries for ‘maintaining justice’… And precisely because it has this small flaw, this kind of testimony is hard to find fault with. Because there are simply too many mercenaries… And the person responsible for the cleanup is one of the participants of this plan…”

“Besides, do you think no one saw through it? Even though there weren’t many high-ranking people present, there were still a few smart ones. Quite a few probably saw the truth… But it’s none of their business. They would only consider what benefits they could gain from this incident. And behind such things, there’s obviously a big hand. If you don’t have that much power, it’s better not to try to lift that curtain… Directness isn’t exactly a virtue among Nobles, is it?”

Glancing at the white-clad youth who was lowering his head in thought, Constantine stopped speaking. He felt he might have already said too much. But at least for a while, this guy’s attitude towards him probably wouldn’t be so blatant anymore… Although Constantine didn’t really like this method of intimidation, he had to admit that sometimes making the other party wary of you brought a lot of convenience.

Or perhaps, this was closer to a Noble’s way of thinking? Constantine smiled slightly and gently picked up a small card in his hand.

This card resembled a business card from Constantine’s memory, except it was made of metal. When the youth examined it closely, he noticed the thing was actually made of pure gold. Most of it, except the edges, was coated with a strange black enamel. On its smooth surface was engraved a set of strange patterns… It seemed to be a shark with human features and limbs, like some monster from legends. Combined with two curved, dagger-like patterns behind it, they formed a strange symbol. It was somewhat like a family crest in some form, yet it absolutely did not conform to Noble aesthetics. It looked more like a clumsy designer’s playful creation.

But the youth felt it wasn’t that simple. This was given to him by Lord Swice upon parting. When he handed over this card, that villainous face carried an extremely earnest attitude.

“Though you might find me a bit presumptuous, I still ask that when you have time, you could visit my humble abode… This is my letter… my calling card.” For some reason, he hadn’t mentioned his address at the time.

The youth shook his head again. That dizzy feeling seemed to be slowly fading from his mind. This shifted his attention to another aspect.

Today’s events… were still somewhat strange.

Although his way of thinking had a certain established pattern, it shouldn’t have been this clear. Intelligence not only requires a developed brain as a foundation but also requires vast experience to refine. If a person grew up isolated from the world, even if they were a born genius who lived ten thousand years, they would still be no better than an idiot.

To put it bluntly, Constantine had lived over twenty years in his previous life and twelve years in this one, totaling nearly forty years. In terms of age, he should be considered a middle-aged man who had seen much of the world. But in terms of social experience, his over twenty years in his previous life, excluding his muddled childhood, were almost entirely spent on the endless path of schooling. After finally graduating, he hadn’t worked for long before crossing into this world, so he hardly had any real social experience or insight. As for this life, starting again as a baby, even after growing up a bit, he still couldn’t participate in the adult world. He could only be solitary, burying himself in books. Living like this for fifteen years, even fifty years, wouldn’t make a person truly mature. It would be good enough if his mind didn’t regress.

But when he made that deduction earlier, his thoughts seemed unusually clear. Everything he saw, heard, and thought seemed to connect logically.

He wasn’t that bespectacled detective who could deduce a pile of things just by glancing around. Such heaven-defying reasoning didn’t seem to be his style…

…

Cashman was very irritated.

As a glorious gendarme directly under the Law Enforcement Office, bathed in the righteous light of Saint Cubest, his life had originally been very comfortable and carefree.

The eighty shiny silver coins the Empire paid him every month were always spent within half a month on wandering dice or women’s bellies. But those kids loitering on the streets would always timely offer some ‘tribute,’ allowing him to worrylessly last until the next salary appeared. Although it was somewhat against the rules of those busybody aunts that at thirty-three he still didn’t have a wife at home, whenever he passed the Cuckoo Inn, he could always pick a woman with a bosom as vast as a drowning sea to serve him comfortably. An old saying was right. Even if you wanted to drink fresh milk every day, you didn’t necessarily have to keep a cow at home, right?

And all of this was, of course, a blessing from the Law Enforcement Office badge dangling on his chest…

But… Cashman squeezed out a foul, unwritten curse from the corner of his mouth. His recent troubles also came from this insignia.

Recent tasks had been far too heavy. A series of major incidents had turned all Law Enforcement Office subordinates into stray dogs scurrying everywhere… First, that famous Count Candle had his priceless jewelry stolen from his home, along with an Elf slave he had just acquired at a high price from an auction. Later, there was a baffling brawl that actually involved a regulated Heavy Crossbow, putting immense pressure on the head of the Law Enforcement Office. Therefore, over the past few weeks, the previously pleasant times for several mobile teams under the Law Enforcement Office had turned into tedious searches and interrogations. This was already the fourth consecutive day busy at this hour.

“An Elf slave? What more could that thing have compared to a regular woman? Or does sleeping with one grant immortality? To spend such an unbelievable fortune… these damn Noble pigs!”

The captain of the third mobile team of the Law Enforcement Office kicked a stray cat that passed by. The unlucky beast’s sharp screech tore through the quiet of the deep night, actually dissipating a bit of the anger in his heart… Pushing the ship-shaped metal helmet back on his head, Cashman cursed a couple of times, not caring that, strictly speaking, he was also part of the Nobility.

As the son of a farmer, Cashman couldn’t even imagine what twelve thousand gold coins represented. Although as an employee of the Law Enforcement Office, his over a decade of work experience had earned him a baronetcy, making him essentially a Noble… but his monthly salary of eighty silver coins, plus a little extra income, was rarely converted into those small, shiny discs with His Majesty the Emperor’s portrait… let alone ten thousand of them. That was a number most people couldn’t fathom.

As for Elves.

Although a capital city resident, Cashman had never seen this legendary beautiful race. It was said their beauty could drive people mad… “Pah!” He spat and let out a short, cold laugh… They’re just women. If you turn off the lights, how much difference could those pointy ears make compared to the little tramps on Red Street? Was it really worth ten thousand gold coins… My Cubest, ten thousand gold coins could probably buy the entire town I was born in! If he had such a sum, Cashman wouldn’t exchange it for something just to put on his dick!

And as if to add insult to injury, today there was an even more preposterous event. Reportedly, some peasants and commoners from the outskirts, blessed by some Demon, had actually banded together and stormed a Noble’s mansion… And even stranger, according to information from brothers responsible for that area, they hadn’t been caught and nailed to racks, nor strangled like dogs! They were safely escorted out… A bunch of baffled Law Enforcement Office gendarmes were practically dumbfounded, but orders from above had to be obeyed.

In the end, it was still his own group who suffered, running around like dead dogs for most of the night… And some brothers might have to work through the whole night…

“This damned world, it’s already completely rotten… uh, right, completely rotten.”

Exhaling a breath of alcohol laced with curses, the baronet trudged several dozen feet while grumbling. He suddenly shook his head… He noticed the already hazy moonlight around him had mostly vanished. He rubbed his eyes, then looked up. Only then did he notice a person standing not far from him, who hadn’t been there before.

“What’s going on? What do you want… to do? I’m tired, not interested… Hiss!”

Cashman, who was about to shoo away this late-night streetwalker, sucked in a sharp breath. The inhalation immediately turned into a piercing shriek. He had to admit, he found his own voice much shriller than those young girls he usually harassed…

By the faint moonlight, he clearly noticed the face of the person standing before him. What a horrifying face it was… The features weren’t particularly distinctive, but right in the center, a huge scar ran across the face. The jaw was split open, twice its size, seemingly dividing the head in two. The gaping mouth seemed to be smiling slightly, staring at him, but the dead-fish-bubble-like gray eyes didn’t seem to be looking at anything. The face was smeared with blood and covered in filthy stains. Several black, unknown long worms happily wriggled in and out of the collapsed nostrils, dropping onto his raised arm, then rustling inside the torn linen.

The captain’s scream abruptly stopped because another face suddenly appeared very, very close to one side, like an animal. Disheveled hair stuck out like nails. The nose was a triangular hole, where a little bit of marble-white human tissue peeked out. The lips were gone, revealing two rows of teeth like lines of letters. The glowing cheeks were densely covered with mold-like beard.

“No! Don’t come closer!” A sweet scent emanated from the two human-like forms that had become monsters. It was the smell of rotting corpses, cloying and nauseating. Cashman instinctively recognized it as the smell of his own fear. His originally smooth face was now twisted like a monster’s. Saliva sprayed from the corner of his mouth as he roared. “Vile heretics, Cubest will punish you! Pelo will punish you! Get away from here!” He seemed to finally remember the faith he usually considered empty, but this prayer was so hoarse and off-key, utterly lacking threatening power.

He tried to grab the rarely-cleaned sword at his side, but before his fingers touched the hilt, he heard a sickening squelch—the kind often heard near a butcher’s stall.

The other’s rotted face almost filled most of his vision. Cashman couldn’t see, he could only feel. Surely a hand had plunged entirely into his chest. He even felt the four fingers protruding from his back moving grotesquely, rubbing and squeezing his internal organs. Cashman opened his mouth, wanting to moan, but found all sound drowned in blood in his throat. It seemed all the blood in his body was pulled to his throat, rushing out frantically through the windpipe and esophagus. As the hand withdrew from his chest, the blood found a better outlet and happily retreated from his throat, changing its course.

Cashman clearly felt his strength, will, spirit, everything that had been surging inside him moments ago, along with the blood, gush out of his body with that hand’s withdrawal. Those things that had been so solid, so abundant, constituting his entire life, just flowed out, flowed out from the large hole in his chest. No matter how unwilling he was, there wasn’t even a sliver of chance left to recover.

Finally, even the strength supporting his legs dissipated from his body, and he collapsed limply.

Pat pat pat pat. Footsteps approached from afar. Then, a voice sounded.

The voice seemed to be some language, but anyone hearing it wouldn’t think it was made by a Human… The sound was so hoarse and slow, like a rusty saw grating against a hundred-year-old burl. Muffled syllables rose and fell, interspersed with a hissing sound like a leaking bellows… The combination of sounds made everyone who heard it feel their eardrums ache.

But this ghostly wail-like sound carried a strange power. The cold wind in the air swirled, carrying an ominous scent of blood. After this drawn-out sound persisted for a while, the dead patrol captain’s hand, pale from blood loss, twitched. Quickly, the twitching turned into movement. The lifeless flesh, nourished by some force, began to fill with vitality. The whole body clumsily and slowly rose. The eyes that had lost their luster swept around dazedly. Then, the thing that was once named Cashman reached out, picked up the rapier he had just dropped on the ground.

He swayed a bit. Then, with his other hand, he reached to his waist, tucking in the cloth garment there that had turned purplish-black, while stuffing a greenish thing—that should be his intestine… back into the abdominal cavity. Feelings like pain had obviously left him. During this process, he only let out two unconscious, low whimpers. Then, amidst the curses of several people whose sweet dreams were disturbed, it staggered towards the exit of the alley.

“The reactions and intelligence are pretty good… Indeed, trained military personnel have better material… Just you wait, kid. I’ll find you soon…” The figure shrouded in gray robes uttered a sound, but it was so hoarse and low it sounded like a worn-out, leaking bellows in a blacksmith’s shop.

This low voice came from the shadows of the alley, transforming into a piercing, grating sound that eventually triggered a series of mournful howls from night dogs. The black figure, as if it had grown from the shadows, then disappeared back into the pitch-black darkness.