Chapter 30
Chapter 30
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 30
Chapter Title: Suspicious Village (4)
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Creak—
I squinted at the sight of the blacksmith shop as the door swung open.
Sharpened weapons and armor.
Restraints like shackles and traps, bizarre instruments that looked meant for torture.
And in the center, a massive—
"Coffin?"
Just one coffin.
'...Why the hell make something like that?'
Everything here was hard to make sense of.
Even the blades and protective gear felt distant from anything ordinary.
Nothing seemed meant for fighting people...
The sizes and shapes were far from what you'd picture for normal use.
Step.
Of course, the coffin was the most baffling.
Who the hell needs a box that size? As I turned to look behind me—
"..."
"That one's yours, isn't it?"
The blacksmith had approached without a sound, and it clicked instantly.
A hulking frame easily over two meters tall.
If anyone fit that coffin, it was the man in front of me.
"What have you been doing here every night?"
"Just preparing to die."
"Preparing to die...? But aside from the coffin, everything here's so menacing."
"...I was just thrashing about. At first I thought the killer was human, then a beast, then a demon."
"So you made all those weird tools for that?"
"..."
I glanced away at his silence.
At a look, he'd prepared every tool imaginable—no gaps left.
Tools for humans, for monsters, all varieties stocked.
'And yet this guy prepped his own coffin.'
Questions swirled, but the first thought was clear: he wasn't the killer.
"You gave up?"
"Just realized it was pointless. I won't catch the killer, and even if I did, it wouldn't matter."
'That look from the widow and the kid...'
Did he lose family too?
"Instead of making all this, you could've killed the village head, grabbed the key, and run with your wife. You'd both be fine."
"Even now, you could—"
"What's the point?"
"..."
His wife died, and he gave up on everything.
Living felt meaningless, so he built his own coffin ahead of time.
Whether his flat tone was his usual self or not, he looked like he'd erased his emotions.
"Why hide this from everyone else?"
"This place is for me and my wife. It's filled with time spent for her—I didn't want to show it. No good comes from them knowing I'm just waiting to die."
"..."
"What I told you yesterday was a half-assed excuse. Sorry for stringing along someone trying to catch the killer."
"No thoughts of revenge?"
The kid flinched at my words.
The blacksmith glanced back, then let out a hollow chuckle and shook his head.
"How do you catch and beat a demon—some monster I don't even know?"
"..."
"Pointless. I'm just waiting out of curiosity about who killed my wife. We'll all die anyway."
"No, I'll stop it."
I stared up at him firmly.
For my survival, and to keep my promise to the kid.
"Sorry, but that future you imagine won't happen."
"..."
"And think hard if your wife would welcome you back after dying so pointlessly."
Step.
Thud.
I brushed past him, patting the kid's head as he peeked over.
"This boy, who's lost three precious people, is still fighting even if the end's meaningless."
"..."
I smirked, met my assistant's eyes, and left the blacksmith's house.
Thud—.
"Blacksmith uncle's not the killer."
"Yeah, probably."
I murmured up at the blue sky.
I'd crossed a line. I knew it. But I had to say it.
'If survivors just die pointlessly, isn't that a burden too?'
No matter why they left this world, they wouldn't want their precious ones dying hollowly.
"..."
Well, I've never lost anyone precious, so what do I know.
Swipe— swipe.
"Bro?"
"Nothing, Timmy Watson. Let's head back and sort the info first."
"Okay...."
"Okay."
After wracking my brain, I narrowed down the prime suspect.
I set aside the [Incident Notebook] I'd been staring at until my eyes hurt and stretched fully.
The farmer was closest to guilty.
Village head had potential too.
'Nun's the wildcard that bugs me.'
The others weren't fully cleared, but the killer was in that trio—I was sure.
Though if the farmer was blatantly guilty, did it even matter?
2. Farmer, Hans.
<Suspecting Blacksmith, Otto>
Notes
- Goes to bed early every night.
- Hears loud noises from the blacksmith shop every night.
- Wasn't at old lady Martha's crime scene.
- Fidgety when we burst into his house. Hiding something.
Plus the kid's nail testimony, the nun's late-night voice.
Every piece pointed to the killer.
But...
'A slob like this slaughters for a month without anyone noticing?'
Could someone who trembles at little things, showing every emotion, pull off pleasure kills aimed at me?
'Lie detector would confirm, but.'
Only one way to know for sure.
I wanted to chase him down and ask outright, but a nagging doubt lingered.
Even if the lie detector said he did it, I doubted it'd feel clean.
'If nothing else turns up, I'll finger him...'
Time left, so I wanted to dig more.
'Nun keeps nagging at me too.'
-I heard Hans's voice.
I heard it while praying late at night.
Can someone praying hear voices?
Old lady died around 3 AM. If farmer's guilty, was he really yelling around then?
"...Bro?"
"Awake?"
"...Bro, why explain everything half-assed just to me? You really an inspector?"
"Be grateful you can call a capital inspector 'bro.'"
The kid woke on the next bed over. I shrugged at his killer question.
"Bro, remember what the nun said?"
"Heard a voice?"
"Yeah, if true, doesn't that ID the killer?"
"Sure, but how?"
"Call 'em both and ask whose story's real?"
"..."
So, put the secret accuser and accused together?
"Genius."
"Right?"
Fucking brilliant.
I'd questioned separately hoping for honesty, but no need.
A straight-up three-way could push things either way.
'No victim till tomorrow night anyway.'
No risk.
Lose the nun's trust? Don't need it.
Just find the killer.
"Hey, Timmy Watson."
"Still with that? How old are you?"
"..."
"Sigh... fine. What's up, Sherlock Holmes?"
"Okay, assistant. Secret mission for you."
Sticking to procedure yields nothing, so time to flip the board openly.
'First time stirring shit in reality. Exciting.'
Can't wait to see how it plays out.
Late afternoon, inside the village's small church.
"So, Sister here says she heard Hans's voice late last night."
"Pardon...? What do you—"
"W-wait, Inspector...!!"
The farmer and nun gawked, disbelieving my words.
Their betrayal-filled faces nearly made me laugh.
Well, the farmer glared at the nun, not me.
"I never stepped out!! How can you lie like that, Sister!!"
"L-lie?! I... I swear to God, I only told the truth...!"
"So I'm the killer?!"
"N-no, I didn't say that...! I just said what I heard, brother...!!"
'Good. Fight, fight.'
I set the trap, but they're brawling. I grinned at their flushing denials.
'This won't reveal truth anyway.'
Both'll stonewall to the end.
Backing down screams guilty.
Step.
'Second cast enters.'
"Hmph, just kill both bitches, Inspector sir?"
"Aigoo, Jack, gotta say it like that? What if they're both innocent!"
"Who knows... maybe both guilty."
"Wait, what..."
"Why are you..."
The church voices rose as three more arrived.
'Hunter, innkeeper, village head.'
The newcomers jumped right into the farmer-nun spat.
To farmer: Did you really sleep early? Why skip morning?
To nun: Really hear that voice? Why not say at dawn assembly?
The duo defended frantically amid the barrage.
Step.
'Third cast too.'
"Village head, got words for you?"
"You sealed the village... my husband died because...!!!"
Merchant and widow arrived, yelling at the head. They unleashed pent-up grudges—what makes you so clean?
Suspicions shifted from nun-farmer to everyone eyeing everyone—
"I... I've prayed for you all every day...! I can't stay here anymore...!!"
The nun rose, wiping tears, hurrying to flee.
'Highlight.'
"...Prayed? When'd you ever pray in front of us."
The blacksmith blocked her, voice low.
"I... I prayed at home...! I feel fear too!!"
"You, first at every scene, showing your face?"
"Don't corner me like that...! I went to honor the dead!!"
'He's nailing it.'
I inwardly praised the blacksmith blocking her.
Didn't expect him to play along, but he did easily.
Cornering her publicly, as requested—perfectly.
"Well... Sister does pray for us often..."
"...Only girl we could trust."
"S-see?! Why suspect me?!"
The nun shouted triumphantly at the back voices.
She pouted, hurt—why me?
'More normal than expected.'
Thought this pressure would crack something, but nah.
"Hm... so Hans must be the killer."
"I-inspector...?"
"Everyone trusts Sister, and she heard the voice."
Couldn't end the party yet—tossed more fuel.
Reset to nun-farmer stage.
"Y-yes... definitely heard it...!"
"Don't lie, Sister!! And there're more suspects!! Otto's hiding stuff too!!"
"Everyone looks guilty then."
"What? Old hag, you're most suspicious!"
Voices escalated. Suspicions, curses, yells—I smirked.
Farmer vented injustice. Nun panicked, eyes darting.
Head scowled at all. Merchant screamed at head.
"Shut your mouth, village head—!!"
Meanwhile, widow sneaked a fist... oof, solid hit.
Some call this discord; to me, perfect harmony.
'How long till... there?'
About time—glanced outside, saw my waving assistant rushing with a suspicious book clutched tight, short legs pumping.
"Bro, really okay leaving them like that?"
"Should be fine?"
I skimmed the book—no, diary—he brought, replying casually.
The more I read, the funnier. Or dumber.
Owner: the farmer.
Contents:
- Dreamed of killing someone again today.
- Why? Why do the people I kill in dreams always really die?
- I've never killed anyone, so why these dreams?
- What if I dream of killing myself?
- Scary. Terrifying. Every day hell, going mad.
'Killer-like, not-killer diary.'
Not sure how far to trust or what it means yet.
'Not your standard mafia game, huh.'
One thing certain: killer's no ordinary joe.