A Warning in Blood

Mardias came to find his mother, but what he saw was a line of blood characters on the wall and a stranger in black. Like any ordinary four-year-old child, he cried. The cry was piercing, as a child's privilege, he poured out his fear and anxiety without restraint.

Jorgen hid Dulm's skull behind him and looked at Dean. If no one reminded him, Dean would probably stare at his son crying for a whole night without knowing what to do. He hadn't even put down the blades in his hands yet, almost forgetting how to breathe.

This had to be broken. Jorgen kicked the skull under the bed, wiped the blood-stained hands on the sheets, then went up and picked up Mardias. "I'll hand him over to the maid first and have someone guard him," he said to Dean, "Are you okay?"

"No, I... do what you have to do, Jorgen."

"Okay. Do you need some time alone? Calm down."

As soon as Jorgen spoke, he knew how foolish his words were. What Dean really needed was to embrace his young son and speak to him like a father. But what could he say? Your mother was just kidnapped by a psychopathic killer, and now Daddy is going to defeat the bad guys and save her?

"It's fine. I'll stay here and see if there's anything I missed."

Jorgen went to the hall and handed Mardias over to the maid, then turned back upstairs, carefully avoiding the pool of blood left by Elin. He found two bloodstains on the handrail, spaced the same as the two wounds on Elin's chest. Apart from that, there were no more signs of struggle.

Elin must have been attacked instantly at the top of the stairs, Jorgen thought. As an Military Intelligence Section 7's agent, he occupied a position overlooking the entire hall, yet suffered a fatal blow from the front without any sign of resistance. Jorgen felt he could vividly experience the title of "Syndicate's top assassin".

As soon as he returned to Dalia's room, he immediately avoided the topic of Mardias: "How's it going, did you notice anything valuable?"

Clearly, Dean was also trying hard to focus his attention on more important issues.

"You're right, he didn't hurt Dalia. The whole scene is very clean. The wrinkles on the sheets seem to have formed naturally when Dalia was awakened. He just quickly knocked her out or strangled her to unconsciousness, left these things on the wall, and left."

"He also took advantage of the chaos caused by the wounded soldiers to escape quickly."

"That wasn't necessary. Even without the chaos, he could have done it. But he chose a safer way."

Right, unnecessary. With Jalo's ability, he could easily assassinate all the guards and then swagger in, Jorgen thought. He had encountered many first-class assassins, and their common feature was complete confidence in their own abilities and intense indulgence in displaying this ability unique to individuals. As long as it was something they could accomplish independently, they would never seek outside help.

Unless Jalo had other purposes.

Jorgen remembered the scene of the wounded soldiers besieging the town hall a few days ago. The situation was exactly the same as today: they shouted cheap slogans to intimidate the other side, their eyes full of the desire for violence waiting to be vented. Only today they went further and brought weapons -

He thought of one person.

"Dean, I have a very important question. You said you took one of Jalo's arms. Which one was it?"

"The right arm. I won't forget that."

Jorgen gasped. The one-armed soldier was also missing his right arm. Although he had only seen him once, Jorgen could still clearly recall in the hotel, a group of wounded soldiers sitting around the one-armed man, listening carefully. At that time, their eyes flashed with excitement and danger, like a beam of light shining into the deep darkness of a well.

Jorgen slammed his fist on the table angrily. "That bastard, I was so close to him."

"You... met Jalo?"

"That's right, it must have been him. He didn't just 'happen to choose' to act during this riot. This was all orchestrated by him. Now he should be..."

Jorgen did not continue, taking a few seconds to thoroughly organize the things in his head. The riot at the town hall. The siege of the Salmon Inn. Dulm's head. Henry's arms deal and death. And the only time Jorgen met Jalo, when he was protecting Shelley out of the hotel, Jorgen did feel Jalo's provocative glance.

He immediately realized that this harsh night was far from over.

"We have to leave quickly, Dean." he said. "His goal is not just revenge on you. We have to stop Jalo before this gets worse."

"What are you talking about? Jalo killed Foudaire and Ryan, forced me out, kidnapped Dalia. After all this, what else does he want?"

Dean was clearly angered by Jorgen's words. This was not anger at a specific person, but rather, after experiencing all this, Jorgen suddenly telling him "you are not the only target" seemed to diminish the importance of what had happened to him.

"Calm down, Dean. We should go to the town hall quickly and explain on the way..."

"I need you to explain now. Now! Otherwise I won't go to any town hall. Now no matter what I have to find Dalia..."

"You're not the only protagonist in this tragedy, do you understand what I'm saying? Damn it, Dean, where did your professionalism and patience go? Being controlled by personal emotions like this will only obscure our goals. You've been through a lot, but the world doesn't revolve around you and Dalia. My desire to save Dalia is as urgent as yours, you must believe that, and believe even more in my judgment now."

For a moment Jorgen thought Dean would break through the window and act alone regardless of consequences, but in the end Dean put his daggers back in their sheaths, took a deep breath, and said:

"...You're right. Follow your leads to the town hall, Jorgen. I guess my performance just now proves once again that I'm not suited to lead MI7."

You are who you are, there's no need to force yourself to fit in with the dirty work that old man is capable of. Jorgen intended to save that heartfelt sentence for after the problem was solved.

After leaving the Salmon Inn, Jorgen felt a strange sultriness. Perhaps it was going to rain again. He could imagine the gray-blue swells rising layer upon layer miles out at sea, as if to drag the clouds from the sky.

They borrowed two horses from the Salmon Inn and rushed to the town hall. The situation was worse than Jorgen had imagined: it was already a battlefield. The wounded soldiers and guards were not just trying to invade and defend, they were actually fighting ruthlessly. Blood spurted from different people, intertwined with different screams. Someone lifted torches, and thick smoke soon rose from several corners of the building. Someone on fire was rolling on the ground, then nailed to the ground with a long sword.

Without hesitation, Jorgen and Dean immediately joined the battle. These guys were much fiercer than the ones surrounding the Salmon Inn, but after all they were just remnants of defeated soldiers, while most of the town guards of Southshore were poorly equipped and lazily trained militiamen, so they were on par for a while. But when Dean got involved, the situation changed immediately.

"You should feel lucky," Jorgen thought, looking at those subdued by Dean, "at least you won't die here. Just throw down your weapons and be good."

In terms of individual hand-to-hand combat, Jorgen could not imagine anyone surpassing Dean. Not to mention that he always avoided fatal spots. Even that Jalo would not be able to directly confront Dean's strength? He strangely realized that in this assumption, he used an interrogative sentence.

After quite a number of enemy soldiers were driven away, a small team of men killed out of the building. Jorgen saw Hennessy, who was injured, dragging one hand, but it was not serious. When they merged, the situation was basically under control.

"Who is that guy?" Hennessy asked Jorgen, looking at Dean wiping the blood off his daggers.

"He's our - my companion. Don't ask about that for now. What happened inside?"

"My God, I really can't forgive myself. I should have noticed from the first time we were surrounded. Let me tell you what happened, Jorgen. But whatever you do, don't spread it around. If it gets out too soon, we're done for."

"Speak."

"The mayor has been assassinated. I know it's strange to say 'assassinated' in such chaos, but that's the fact... At first we thought he had locked himself in his office. His throat was cleanly and neatly cut open. Jorgen, did you think of the same person as me?"

"I did, Hennessy. It looks like you don't know what happened at the Salmon Inn yet."

"Tell me later. I have to clean up this mess, and my hand too... You don't think my hand bones are broken, do you? No? That's at least one good news. My God, what a mess."

"You don't seem to feel much for your mayor's death."

"I've always hated him, though not enough to want him dead. But guess what I found in his office? A whole pack of brand new coins, and a 'Urgent Military Pay Issue' record with detailed amounts. These things were left on his desk. The killer deliberately let us see them."

"So the supplies Stormwind gave these wounded soldiers were real, they were just embezzled by the mayor?"

"It looks that way. But one thing puzzles me, Jorgen. Don't tell me the killer is some kind of masked hero fighting for the wounded soldiers. He didn't take a copper coin of that military pay, as if leaving the 'villain's evidence' for the people."

"No. His target was Southshore. Let me tell you my conclusion: the killer is from Syndicate, and killed Henry over a trade dispute, we all know that. But we investigated this case, and there was also an army that had attacked Syndicate stationed here, all of which showed that for them, Southshore was a threat. He didn't need the money. He just wanted a warning to us. I have some evidence that he had been lurking among the wounded soldiers for some time, which requires more of your cooperation to investigate and prove."

Of course, this was only half the story. The other half Jorgen did not intend to reveal to Hennessy for the time being.

"We were too late again." Dean said.

"...Yes."

It was almost dawn, and everyone needed rest. Dean said he was going to the Salmon Inn to guard Mardias in secret, and Jorgen had no reason to restrict his actions. He returned home and fell asleep as soon as he was assaulted by intense fatigue. This troublesome night had begun with a slap from Shelley, and now ended in blood and gore.

After sleeping for less than three hours, Jorgen was awakened by a violent knocking on the door. He cautiously opened the door with his dagger in hand and saw Hennessy standing anxiously at the door.

"What happened? Don't you need to rest, Hennessy?"

"Can you tell me what this is all about? I finished dealing with the scene, went straight home..." Hennessy paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word, "and found that Shelley was gone."

Jorgen immediately felt dizzy.

At that time in the hotel, Jalo had seen him protect Shelley with his arm.

Since he had already provoked them with Dulm's head, naturally there would be further action.

"I don't know what happened either. But the situation seems obvious..."

Jorgen did not finish the rest of the sentence - we lost.