Chapter 42
Chapter 42
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 42
Chapter Title: Dr. Jekyll and Hyde (5)
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A mass murder had taken place in a house on the outskirts of the capital.
Dozens were dead.
Each one had at least one clean cut—throat slit or arm severed.
But there were no other traces.
No signs of beatings or horrific torture.
It was as if the killer had no desire to waste any more energy on them.
The guards who arrived at the gruesome scene looked perplexed.
"Who the hell would do something like this?"
"Isn't it that guy?"
"What? You mean the guy from those weird rumors?"
The junior guard nodded at his senior's words.
He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought there was a decent chance.
The senior guard gave a small nod in agreement.
"Could be. Of course, it might just be coincidence, but sometimes coincidences lead to inevitability."
"Yes, sir. So should we look for the guy from the rumors this time too?"
The junior scribbled a summary of the scene in his notebook.
Not in great detail—just the basics.
As he wrote, he chatted about the rumored culprit.
The senior clicked his tongue at the junior.
"When are you gonna find him just sitting there writing? You've gotta get out and chase leads."
"...This is chasing leads, isn't it?"
The junior looked awkward, but the senior got annoyed instead.
"Ugh. Stuck doing boring door-to-door again? Forget it."
He beckoned the junior and headed out of the house.
The junior hurriedly followed, still clutching his notebook.
Once outside, the senior signaled to stay quiet and began moving cautiously.
He scanned the ground meticulously.
"What the heck are you doing?"
The junior didn't get it at all but followed slowly anyway.
He's the senior, so he must have some idea, right?
They left the scene to the other guards and started prowling the alleys.
For hours, the two wandered the backstreets.
The senior seemed focused on something, but the junior had no clue.
By the time the sun was high overhead, the junior couldn't take it anymore.
"Senior, what exactly are you doing?"
"Hey, I'm tracking footprints here."
"...Pardon?"
The junior couldn't comprehend and asked again.
Why track footprints?
No, more importantly, where even were the footprints?
He finally looked at the ground he'd ignored until now.
Even staring hard, he saw nothing that looked like prints.
He started wondering if his senior had lost his mind.
"What are you even looking at?"
"They're there, I tell you. And every little clue like this matters. You never read Sherlock Holmes?"
The senior clicked his tongue and scolded the junior.
Of course, to the junior, it was just frustrating.
"I have read it. But who actually uses that stuff in real life?"
"Right here. Plus, they caught a perp in Rlangbur using these methods."
That was news to him.
The junior had never heard of such a case in Rlangbur.
In other words, his senior was a big Sherlock Holmes fan.
Of course, that didn't guarantee he'd catch criminals the same way.
One success story didn't mean they could replicate it.
But the senior believed he could.
"And just recently, that new book came out—Dr. Jekyll and Hyde."
"So what are you getting at?"
The senior straightened up at the junior's curt remark.
The junior shrank a bit under his gaze.
Not that the senior meant to scold him.
"Maybe this murder's connected to the new book."
"What does that even mean?"
The junior was even more baffled.
Footprints as traces of the killer? Fine. But what did novels have to do with it?
As he stared in confusion, the senior shook his head.
And spoke like he was praising a god.
"Prometheus's books always predict the future."
"...Have you actually lost it?"
The junior finally snapped.
The senior shot him a glare.
"It's true. Sigh. Anyway, if I'm right, the killer will strike again soon. So hurry up and track these traces."
"Y-Yes, sir."
He didn't understand a word.
But turning back now wasn't an option, so he stared at the ground until his eyes ached, just like the senior.
While they obsessed over oddities, Fren was inside a building.
"Kuh! Hahaha! This feels amazing. Hours have passed, and the thrill still won't fade!"
Fren leaned on the table, laughing heartily.
No guilt on his face—only growing anticipation.
"No need to hold myself back anymore. What joy!"
Like an overacting stage actor.
Or just a man gone mad.
One thing was clear: there was no turning back for him.
"Ah, I can't wait for the next one."
Fren trembled in ecstasy, thinking of his upcoming plans.
Then, a shadow rippled in the darkness.
"Having quite the fun, I see."
"Wh-Who’s there?!"
He whipped around at the voice behind him.
A familiar figure appeared.
The one who'd given him an unforgettable memory.
"It was you."
"Yes. Quite different from before. The drug's taken hold nicely."
Fren grinned and nodded.
True to the black-robed man's words, he no longer hid himself.
He still lurked in shadows for now, but soon he'd step into the light.
As Fren pictured that happy future, a question arose.
"But you seem oddly unaware of the drug's effects."
"Can't be helped. You're the first test subject."
"What?!"
Fren was shocked, but the black robe ignored him.
He spoke boredly about the drug instead.
"Inspired by a recent book, I whipped it up on a whim. No proper testing."
"Do whatever. Doesn't matter. You made me like this."
Fren barely registered the words.
Instead, he asked what had been bugging him.
"So, what's this potion really do? You must've had some idea when you made it."
The black robe paused, as if thinking.
"As I said before. It just lets you unleash your desires."
"Hm..."
Fren wasn't satisfied but didn't press.
If there was more, he'd have said it already.
"Anyway, I'll watch the experiment's progress. See you when the effects wear off."
"Sure. Give me another vial then."
"Heh. Not the trembling mess from before. Fine. If you're still alive."
The black robe vanished after those ominous words.
Fren stared at the spot, then turned.
At the window, he gazed down at the street, lost in thought.
"If you're still alive."
Kuh, no chance of dying.
Current Fren brimmed with confidence.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The day of reckoning arrived.
"No, 'reckoning' might be a bit much."
Fren searched for a milder word.
After a moment, he grinned.
"Tonight, humans will learn they are merely human."
He nodded, satisfied.
Soon, he leaped from the building's rooftop.
He landed lightly, without pain, and dashed down the street.
No need for alleys this time—he just ran fast.
To others, he was a blur or a shadow.
After a long run, a mansion appeared.
Situated between the outskirts and center, it was impressively large.
This was a noble's villa; the owner rarely stayed in the capital.
But tonight was different.
He'd invited close contacts for expensive liquor.
Oblivious to Fren watching from outside.
Fren waited, then entered at his chosen moment.
He slipped into the corridor silently and found the noble's room.
"Ah, there it is."
Fren entered the noble's private chamber as if it were natural.
He didn't even know how he'd found it.
He chalked it up to his special nature.
"Wait here a bit."
Fren—no, Burenta—settled into a chair leisurely.
Time passed. The drunken noble stumbled in, humming.
He staggered toward the bed.
"...Who are you?!"
"Oh, you finally notice."
Burenta rose slowly from the chair and bowed deeply to greet the noble.
"Welcome. Tonight, you will learn the sins you bear."
"Wh-What nonsense is this?! How did you get in? Guards! Mage! To my room, now!"
The noble bellowed, but no one answered.
Burenta's aura had isolated the room.
"No need to shout. I'm just here to kill nobles like you."
Fear crept into the noble at Burenta's words.
He backed toward the door.
Burenta just sneered.
"A highborn noble fleeing? Can't even cast a simple spell?"
"Y-You bastard. Your threats mean nothing."
"Such confidence. Let's see if you keep it after I sever your head!"
It happened in an instant.
A light stomp, and he claimed the noble's head in a flash.
The noble's face was blank, uncomprehending.
Thud.
Head and body separated, the noble lay still and silent.
Burenta watched with amusement.
"Death makes all equal. Hilarious."
Burenta recalled his past as Fren.
Back then, a life like this was a dream.
Nobles were like the sky.
If gods were unreachable, nobles were the visible heavens.
But death was the same for all.
"Whew, such joy. Uncontainable ecstasy!"
Burenta laughed uproariously before the corpse, then stood.
"Time to go. No interest in uninvited guests."
He opened the window and vanished.
At that moment, the door burst open. A mage and two guards rushed in.
"Count! Gasp! What happened?!"
The noble, alive hours ago, was now a cold corpse.
The guards mobilized, tearing the mansion apart.
Chaos erupted in an instant.
As everyone hunted the culprit,
the mage examined the body in the room.
His face grew grave, then he made a shocking discovery.
"Black magic...! Send word to the Holy Kingdom at once!"
Fren didn't know, but the drug he'd taken was made with black magic and alchemy.
The capital erupted over the use of black magic in the empire.