The Faceless Knight's Secret and the Vanishing Statue
The theory that the faceless knight's wounds were caused by a vacuum was proposed in the late nineteenth century and held as the prevailing hypothesis even into the early 2000s. But with the rise of the internet and easy cross-verification of information, it was swiftly debunked. Much like the urban legend that you'd die if you slept with a fan on, which vanished once the internet came along.
I began explaining it to the girls.
"The most up-to-date theory I know of is that sand or glass shards were mixed in the wind, and those tiny fragments, whipped up by the fierce gusts, lacerated the skin."
I reminded them of the letter's contents once more.
"The ghost story originated in a slum, remember? And considering the anecdote about testing a newly forged sword by slashing people, we can infer the swordsmith's workshop wasn't far off. A smithy making blades would have no grass growing nearby due to fire hazards, and the extreme heat would often melt sand into glass-like forms, with metal dust scattering year-round."
Elaine immediately raised a counterargument. Was her pride hurt because I'd dismissed her idea?
"But if that happened everywhere around a smithy, it wouldn't have become a ghost story. I've never heard of anything like it."
"True. Normally, a bit of sand or metal dust in the air wouldn't tear skin just from strong winds."
I nodded, accepting her rebuttal. The real cause of this ghost story, as I knew it, wasn't that simplistic anyway.
"But the key is that it happened in a slum. The residents there would naturally be malnourished. Malnutrition brings all sorts of symptoms, including thinned and weakened skin."
I looked each of them in the eye in turn—Elaine, Rone, Rozalia, Aurora—as I continued. To these noble-born girls, malnutrition must seem like something from another world.
"Add winter's dry, cold climate, which shrinks already thin skin even more. Now throw in those powerful gusts you mentioned at first—what happens? This ghost story, while the tale differs, matches the phenomenon of my past life's Japanese 'kamaitachi' legend exactly."
Japan, the origin of the kamaitachi tale, had similar conditions. It banned meat-eating until late due to Buddhism, and the Sengoku period's wars ravaged the land, halting agriculture and causing mass starvation. Chronic malnutrition was rampant nationwide, while smithies churned out weapons nonstop for the conflicts. Japan's native iron was poor quality, so swords didn't last, and as an island nation, importing good iron was tough. With sky-high demand and short lifespans for weapons, they'd forge, melt down the broken ones, and recast endlessly. Metal dust must have filled the air.
"Malnutrition, an era thick with airborne metal particles, dry winter air—put them together, and wounds from fine dust in fierce winds become entirely plausible. This world's 'faceless knight' ghost story likely arose from the same backdrop. In short, it's a phenomenon from three factors aligning: terrain where dust and sand scatter easily, widespread malnutrition, and winter's cold, dry climate."
Elaine bit her lower lip and bowed her head.
"Ugh... yeah. That makes way more sense than mine."
Ironically, her lip-biting mirrored Aurora's earlier humiliation.
"Hoo. Teacher wins this round."
Elaine cleared her throat with effort.
No, it wasn't my win or anything—this wasn't even my original deduction.
"Still, your idea was solid. Winter's cold, dry climate was a key piece, after all."
But despite my consolation, disappointment and bruised pride lingered on her face. Why take it so personally? I was just reciting answers from the future.
As my explanation wrapped up, Rone bounced excitedly.
"That solves the second letter's mystery! We're halfway done already!"
Rozalia grinned broadly and nodded.
"Yes! I get it all now! Nothing stumps Teacher—not even this!"
Of course, her face said she hadn't grasped a thing.
"Hmph! Next letter's mine. I'll nail a perfect 100 this time!"
Elaine declared with unhidden frustration and fiery passion.
Who are you even competing with?
Aurora wore a similar expression.
"I won't lag behind next time."
Her resolute tone burned with determination to reclaim her pride.
So... who's the riddle showdown against, exactly?
The students' faces had lost all tension or worry about real ghost stories emerging. Instead, they were genuinely enjoying the puzzle-solving.
Sigh. If only actual ghost story resolutions were this easy...
From afar, the female student eavesdropping on Allen Jest's explanation trembled like a leaf.
Her eyes widened in shock.
"Wh-what, what, what!? How does he come up with that!?"
It was unbelievable. His answer surpassed even the conclusion she'd reached after three sleepless days of pondering.
No—it went beyond.
To casually, instantly conjure an idea she'd never dreamed of!
Part of her wanted to deny it outright. But her rational mind acknowledged Allen Jest's answer as the clear truth—or at least far closer than hers.
"I spent three days and nights racking my brain for that, grilling the friend who told me the story dozens of times!"
She'd even bought meals and pricey snacks to pry details!
All that effort negated in a flash—the girl despaired, collapsing to her knees right there. Her shoulders quivered faintly.
Mingled relief from solving the second ghost story and anticipation for the next, I pulled the next letter from my pocket.
As I did, Rone and Rozalia crowded to my sides, while Elaine and Aurora peered over my shoulders with eager eyes.
Under everyone's focused gazes, I slowly unfolded the third letter.
To the Paranormal Investigation Club,
I have one mystery from Everlight Academy that I'd like you to investigate.
It concerns the utterly bizarre incident that recently occurred in our academy's art club.
One of the plaster statues—crafted with loving care by a senior alumnus and stored in the art club warehouse—vanished without a trace!
This statue is a revered work from a predecessor we club members admire across generations. It's large and heavy enough that it would take one or two adult men to move.
Yet this precious piece disappeared entirely.
The warehouse locks at dismissal time and has only one entrance—no other passages. There's one window, right by the door, but it's so small you can barely glimpse inside. Not even a child could squeeze through, let alone remove the statue.
The lock was sturdy, with no signs of being forced.
To club members, it's invaluable, but to outsiders, it's just an ordinary sculpture of no worth.
Thus, the art club suspects an inside job, with two prime suspects.
First suspect: Art club member A. A had the warehouse key the day before the theft as door-duty担当 and ample access to the piece. But another student passing the hall testified to seeing the statue in place through the door's small glass window during A's shift.
Second suspect: Another club member B. B was on door duty the next day and claims to have discovered the missing statue upon checking the warehouse. B also had the key. However, B was with other members doing club activities all day, leaving no physical time to move it.
Both A and B had access, yet both have alibis preventing the theft.
Now, whispers among members say, "The senior's artistic soul possessed the statue, making it move on its own." The club is gripped by unease.
Please, Paranormal Investigation Club, uncover the secret of the art club's eerie "vanishing plaster statue."
As I finished reading the third letter aloud, unease shadowed the club members' faces once more.
They all recalled the "moving on its own" bit—and the animated exhibits from the fairground ghost story. We'd lived through that already.
Even without that, tales of inanimate objects coming alive were legion.
"Looks like a real ghost story's here at last..."
Rone murmured, her face paling.
Rozalia looked up at me with anxious eyes, her voice quivering.
"T-Teacher... this one's got a scientific trick too, right...? Something like that?"
I set the letter down, my expression grave.
"Unfortunately, from the letter, it doesn't seem like a trick... A statue moving on its own in a locked room... that's hard to swallow."
Elaine spoke with a stiff face.
"Per the letter, it's physically impossible. And the only thing making the impossible possible is a ghost story."
Aurora adjusted her glasses, her voice laced with worry.
"...This isn't the time for riddle competitions anymore."
No wonder things had gone too smoothly so far...
Tension etched their faces again. The playful puzzle-solving vibe was gone, replaced by dread of facing a true ghost story.
From afar, the female student watched the Paranormal Investigation Club's grim mood and instantly puffed up with confidence.
"Heh heh heh! No way the Paranormal Investigation Club solves this third mystery!"
She crowed smugly.
And she had reason for such bravado.
"Because this mystery..."
Right...
"...even I couldn't crack it!"
Not something to brag about, but the girl stood tall regardless.
A girl's tenacity knows no bounds.