I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 398 - 398 397. The Chronicles of Crane Cry_1

Chapter 398: 397. “The Chronicles of Crane Cry”_1 Chapter 398: 397. “The Chronicles of Crane Cry”_1 Waiting for the police reinforcements and the forensic team to arrive at the scene took a certain amount of time, so the three of them took the opportunity to inspect the second floor.

The second floor was Doctor Howes’s living quarters.

He had a cleanliness and meticulousness to living that is unusual for a man of his age, with a spotless washbasin, a clean toilet, and a neatly made bed. Even the books on the bookshelf were arranged in order, a sight pleasing to those with obsessive-compulsive tendencies.

“It’s rare for someone who mingles in Grey Alley to be so clean and proper; I even doubt he has ever personally prostituted himself.”

No sooner had Cui Siter finished speaking than he remembered Shia was there, and he quickly corrected himself.

“He’s single, hasn’t sought any call girls, and there are no rumors of romantic interests. The call girl downstairs must be his patient; she was probably attacked during a consultation.”

“Cui Siter, would you go for that kind of woman?”

Lu Ban posed a deadly question.

“No, of course not, my heart belongs to that lady, don’t think of me in that way.”

Cui Siter denied immediately.

“Which lady?”

Shia leaned in closer, curious.

“…She’s a singer, a real singer. She once performed in the theaters of Abandoned Capital, and that opera about Taoist Crane Cry was truly a masterpiece. If you heard it, you’d become a fan of hers just like me…”

When it came to this subject, Cui Siter had a lot to say.

“An opera about Taoist Crane Cry?”

Lu Ban picked up on the keyword and automatically reacted.

“There are many operas that tell the story of Taoist Crane Cry, some adapted from his and his disciples’ biographies. Lady Charlotte, the lady I referred to, she played in ‘The Chronicles of Crane Cry,’ which tells of Taoist Crane Cry’s life before his enlightenment. Although those operas are not too popular with the high society gentlemen these days, the common people of Abandoned Capital still enjoy listening to them. She is a true artist.”

Cui Siter explained.

“Then do you know about ‘Crane’s Ascent Legend’?”

Lu Ban inquired about the name of the material he needed.

“‘Crane’s Ascent Legend’? No, I haven’t heard of a script or book by that name. The most widely circulated works about Taoist Crane Cry are ‘The Biography of Crane Cry Taoist’ followed by ‘Crane Cry Observations’, and only a few copies of ‘The Chronicles of Crane Cry’ exist. It’s said that after adapting the script, the theater bought most of the copies to assure ticket sales.”

Cui Siter counted on his fingers.

“Aren’t the disciples of Taoist Crane Cry opposed to these plays?”

Lu Ban considered how some well-known families in the real world would express objections to adaptations based on their ancestors, with some even outright banning such adaptations.

“No, why would they? The Crane Cry Sect declined just a few years after Taoist Crane Cry ascended. Some say it’s because they meddled with taboos they shouldn’t have, others say it’s because the big shots in Abandoned Capital wanted to cut off the path to ascension. In any case, the Crane Cry Sect has long since ceased to exist. Nowadays, the name most frequently appears on the lips of swindlers; many people would claim to be the true disciples of Taoist Crane Cry, possessing the method of ascension, and then they scam people out of their money.”

Cui Siter dismissed the idea.

“Then do you know Storm Villa?”

Lu Ban asked again, figuring that with Cui Siter, a local, he might glean some information.

“I’ve never heard of Storm Villa; is it a place in Abandoned Capital? Have you been assigned a mission there?”

Cui Siter frowned.

“Not just yet.”

Lu Ban shook his head.

“So, that lady and you are lovers?”

Shia interrupted the two men’s conversation about Taoist Crane Cry, relentlessly pressing Cui Siter about his personal feelings.

“Not really…”

Cui Siter dodged the question.

“That’s not the focus of this case. We should seriously investigate the room!”

He decided to change the subject.

Lu Ban had already crouched down.

He looked under the bed in Doctor Howes’ bedroom.

In that dimly lit space beneath the bed, there was just a thin layer of dust accumulated from a few days of neglect, with no filth.

“Very clean.”

Lu Ban commented.

“Rather, it’s suspiciously clean.”

Cui Siter casually pulled a book from the shelf, flipped through a couple of pages, then shoved it back.

“It’s hard to imagine a normal man being like this, not to mention the toilet, even under the bed is spotless; there is nothing normal about this at all.”

“Under my bed is very clean.”

Lu Ban replied.

“…What I mean is, there’s no sense of a life being lived here. So, either Doctor Howes didn’t sleep here regularly, or he cleaned the house for some reason, or the killer did the cleaning for some reason.”

Cui Siter wasn’t too keen on engaging with Lu Ban.

“Possibly.”

Shia nodded in agreement, then after thinking added,

“I’ve been feeling that Doctor Howes’ death was the killer’s main objective, that he killed the doctor as a form of torture, harboring deep hatred for him. But according to what you’ve said, this man didn’t make enemies in his routine life. If someone wanted to kill him, it would be because he knew something he shouldn’t have known, which doesn’t quite fit with the killer’s behavior.”

“A euphoria offender?”

Cui Siter stroked his chin. These criminals were a real nuisance because their killings lacked logic; they killed merely for the sake of killing.

In Abandoned Capital, the most difficult cases to crack weren’t those with artfully plotted schemes or locked rooms; those cases could be solved relatively easily once the suspects were identified, interrogated, and had their alibis checked.

The hardest cases to crack were random killings.

These euphoria offenders took pleasure in murder. For them, killing wasn’t a means to an end; it was the end itself. They derived joy from the act of killing, and any human life claimed would bring them pleasure.

They might roam the corners of Black Street, casually killing a homeless vagrant, a woman walking at night, a guard on duty… Their victims’ bodies might go undiscovered for some time.

By the time a body was found, due to identification issues, the police might not seriously investigate these deaths. The majority would be chalked up to gang violence, with the blame tossed onto the gangs.

“So you’re saying that the person killed Doctor Howes and the call girl in the dark room, then moved Doctor Howes’ corpse to the first floor to be discovered, does this suggest that the killing of the call girl was incidental, and his real target was Doctor Howes? Does the killer want to convey this message?”

Lu Ban suddenly had a burst of inspiration.

“It’s like someone wanting to point out the killer in a novel, but they accidentally underline two different names. In order not to confuse those who come after, they wrote the true culprit’s name again on the page.”

“…You, you’re really unscrupulous.”

Cui Siter couldn’t help but make a retort.

But upon reflection, did Lu Ban’s theory make some sense?