Chapter 2585: Whistling Down (34)

Raven carefully descended the staircase.

"Is he dead?" Raven squeezed herself between the stair railing and the wall, slowly coming to terms with the fact that she had just witnessed a murder.

Raven's society in Azarath was orderly; thus, she understood the importance of rules even more than those magicians who had been exposed to the magic realm from a young age. Murder was a serious crime in her community as well, subject to severe penalties. And because their societal customs were more primitive, many times murder was met with the ultimate price—death.

Shiller looked at her with a statue in hand.

Raven shivered. She bit her lip and ultimately could not bring herself to say anything like "I didn't see anything."

"Why did you kill him?"

Shiller sighed gently, glanced at the statue in his hand, and then looked at the mail carrier's bag on the sofa.

Raven tiptoed carefully around the back of the corpse and made her way to the back of the sofa, reaching out to haul over the mail carrier's bag.

She did not pull the strap of the mail carrier's bag; instead, she pulled at the bottom of the bag, and as she drew it back, something fell out.

A huge Bone Chopper.

"Hiss..."

Raven immediately looked up at Shiller; his expression confirmed her guess. She then turned her attention to the fallen mail carrier on the ground and said, "Even if he wanted to kill you, he didn't make a move, right? Maybe he was just worried about losing his job."

Raven heard Shiller sigh again and looked at him with some puzzlement, wondering where she went wrong.

"If he were worried about losing his job and wanted to silence someone, he would have brought a loaded gun."

Raven had no response. Even though she had not lived in this society, she knew that here, the most efficient weapon for killing was the gun. Sometimes, guns were more efficient than magic because all you needed to do was pull the trigger, and almost no one could predict the trajectory of a bullet. Whoever fired first would win.

A gun was also a good self-defense tool in ordinary society. Whether you pointed a gun at someone else or at yourself, it was a powerful threat. In case the threat didn't work, there was almost no risk of being killed in retaliation.

"Maybe... maybe he couldn't afford a gun, or he didn't know how to use one?" Raven found both these reasons unconvincing. From her observations, almost no one in this country didn't know how to use a gun, and guns were quite cheap, almost available everywhere. The clothing store Killer Croc had taken her to had a gun store right next to it. Buying an ordinary pistol didn't even require any license; just being of age was enough.

Grasping for excuses, Raven pondered. Buying a gun should leave a record, right? Maybe he didn't want to be discovered? After all, if detected, he would still go to prison.

But soon, she realized this reason didn't hold either, as Jason and the others had said, this city had always been like this: either you have no gun, or you have no home.

From what Raven had learned over the past few days, someone with a stable job in this era wouldn't be living too poorly, and since Shiller lived in a wealthy area, those working in affluent neighborhoods were even less likely to be low-level laborers. They were the primary beneficiaries of economic trickle-down.

Just like when they worked for the moving company, moving belongings for wealthy families would earn them generous tips. The wealthier the neighborhood, the larger the tips they received, which was their main source of income. Being a mail carrier, which involved going door-to-door, he probably also received a significant amount in tips.

So it was impossible that he was planning to kill someone only to buy a murder weapon at the last minute. He could have just taken his gun from home.

"Then why?" Raven was utterly puzzled.

"Go to the kitchen and get a knife," Shiller said, nodding his head lightly in that direction. Without understanding the reason, Raven did as he instructed.

She circled around the back of the sofa, entered the kitchen, picked up a kitchen knife, but just as she was about to bring it to Shiller, he shook his head, "Take the biggest one."

Raven fiddled with the knife block and, after turning it around, noticed a chopper almost as large as the one that had fallen out of the mail carrier's bag.

"What is the most efficient way for ordinary people to handle a crime scene?" Shiller suddenly asked.

This was far beyond Raven's knowledge, her mind practically smoking as she sought an answer. So, she could only numbly shake her head to indicate she didn't know.

"Dismemberment," said Shiller. "If he chose to bring a gun, then he'd also have to bring a knife because a gun can't be used to dismember, and the chain reaction caused by gunshots might leave him with no time for dismemberment."

"So what does that prove?"

"It proves that he's experienced. He knows that cold weapon combat is risky, but it's silent enough to provide ample time for escape afterward. Gunshots, however, are not suitable."

Raven then realized that firing a gun made noise. If one were to shoot, they'd have to run immediately after firing; otherwise, it would be too easy to get caught.

But with a knife, in a sneak attack, there is a good chance the victim wouldn't be able to react. Just aim for the neck, and they wouldn't even be able to scream.

"Suppressed firearms are strictly regulated, and ordinary people can't easily access them," Shiller continued. "If what had fallen out of this bag was a pistol with a suppressor, then I should suspect whether he was an Agent or something."

"Was the mail carrier an assassin?" Raven looked at the body on the ground, somewhat shocked.

"Perhaps not a professional hitman, but at the very least a murderer who had been hiding well," Shiller said. "He was able to judge from our few meetings that I was the kind of person he could subdue with a cold weapon, which is why he came."

Raven looked at Shiller and then at the body lying on the ground. The mail carrier's build did not have an overwhelming advantage; he was not taller than Shiller, nor particularly muscular, but the shape of muscles could be seen through the sleeves of his arm.

Shiller, who was dressed in a suit, only appeared thin.

"He judged based on my occupation," Shiller took the knife and began stripping the mail carrier's clothes. Raven didn't dare to contemplate what he intended to do next, so she focused on the topic he had brought up.

"He knows you're a professor,"

"Of course, it's obvious. In this kind of community, people usually don't choose to hide their profession since most are quite respectable. So I introduced myself as a professor from Gotham University right away,"

"Oh, I see." Raven had an epiphany and said, "He thought you were the kind of person who sits in an office all year long, with the heaviest task being writing with a pen, while he, even if not an athlete, is at least a laborer with greater speed and strength than you."

"An obvious conclusion, but still missing something."

"Vigilance?" Raven guessed, stroking her chin, "I feel like those movers and drivers I see on the streets have a different look in their eyes; they always seem to be sizing up the people passing by, like a startled rabbit."

"Street jobs require extreme vigilance," Shiller said, "Especially in Gotham, those who have survived the streets from the past era have reflexes that no office clerk can match."

Raven nodded. She had heard about Gotham's past situation from Dick and the others, and if that were the case, it was understandable.

Shiller had already stripped the postman's clothes off, but a tattoo on his body caught Shiller's attention.

"He's not a postman," Shiller suddenly said.

Raven looked at him again. Shiller stroked the tattoo and whispered a name, "Penitent Cartel..."

"What's that?"

"A drug trafficking organization, the biggest international drug cartel between America and Mexico. They've been trying to infiltrate Gotham; this could be one of their moles they planted earlier."

Raven gasped, staring at Shiller, "Have you dealt with them before?"

"I've seen this kind of tattoo on their bodies,"

"What do we do then? Will they cause trouble for you?"

"Whether they'll cause trouble for me depends on what I do now," Shiller said, "This must be a very important mole; it's not easy to penetrate affluent neighborhoods."

"So we..."

Raven thought of the answer but felt scared, her fingertips trembling. Shiller looked at her and said, "Go get the tarp from the backyard, Miss."

Raven said nothing, silently went, and it was evident she knew exactly what he was doing, yet she still went.

The blue plastic sheet was brought over quickly, and Raven unfolded it. Shiller watched her actions, and Raven knew what he wanted to ask. So she took a deep breath, grabbed the hem of her dress, and said, "Things have already come to this; we can't just leave it be, right?"

"Normal people would call the police."

"I've never been normal," Raven said, "I can't lose my house, I still need to work and go to school. If the landlord changes, they might not allow me to delay rent, nor use their kitchen how I please."

A faint envy flashed in Shiller's eyes; when could he speak so sincerely and justifiedly about such common reasons.

"So you've decided to help me with the murder and dismemberment?"

"I... I... Let's hurry up, it's about to be daylight," Raven said, turning her head away as if to avoid the subject, "I've never done this before, and if we don't hurry, we'll probably make a mess."

"You won't," Shiller said.

Shiller smoothed the plastic sheet some more, joined Raven in lifting the body onto the sheet, and began processing the corpse.

Raven watched his skillful movements in stunned silence. After Shiller was done, the sheet only had the initial bloodstains from bleeding; the rest of the limbs, blood, and viscera had been perfectly separated.

All the parts were packed into a box lined with plastic bags, with only a layer of cardboard on top, not sealed. Shiller stacked the boxes and had Raven move them to his car trunk with telekinesis.

Raven was still trembling as she sat in the passenger seat. She nervously looked at Shiller and asked, "Where are we going?"

"To the nearest fresh market. We still need to buy some vegetables, fish, and spices; we should arrive just in time for opening,"

Raven looked out the window, realizing it had dawned without her notice; she had been watching Shiller work for so long without even realizing the sunrise.

"Shouldn't we first..."

"It's all part of the plan," Shiller said while driving, "All the markets nearby are high-end; they don't sell fish and meat that aren't fresh."

"So what?"

"But there will inevitably be food that isn't fresh. The fish and meat that aren't sold need to go somewhere. Such markets are strictly managed, and they don't allow their staff to take any leftovers home. There's only one end for unsold produce."

"But why a fresh market?" Raven caught the crux and said, "They would just throw the food in the garbage truck, wouldn't they? Then why not wait for the garbage truck?"

Shiller turned his head to look at her as if waiting for her to think it through. Raven quickly realized and tentatively said, "The smell?"

Shiller nodded.