Chapter 1815: Summer in Fools' Village (27)_1

Shiller's car stopped on a brightly lit street, but instead of pulling into a designated parking spot, it circled around to the back alley and halted amidst the darkness. The two occupants of the vehicle then also stepped into the darkness.

At the corner of the street, Shiller and Pamela stood in a semi-secluded spot. Typically, irrelevant bystanders would avoid the streets where such upscale clubs were located. Blinds spots, not visible from the windows, were everywhere and Shiller and Pamela were within one of these ranges.

"Aren't we going in?" Pamela asked.

Shiller shook his head and said, "Based on what you said earlier today, you don't seem to be crazy enough to start your own hunting club."

"That's absurd," Pamela raised her voice. "I've never actually killed anyone, at least not so far."

"A law-abiding good girl."

Not knowing how to respond, Pamela inched forward trying to peek around Shiller's figure. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder, gently pushing her back.

"The first rule of hunting is patience." Shiller's voice seemed to echo within Pamela's chest.

Pamela followed Shiller's gaze to a mansion on the opposite side of the street. Like all the other opulent buildings on this street, it was well lit. Faint music played from inside, indicating the peak of a dance party within.

Are we going in? Pamela wanted to ask, but remembering Shiller's advice, she held her tongue. Shiller gave her an approving glance.

"Do you know Oswald Kolbott?" Shiller stood straight, no longer watching the mansion and turned to Pamela.

"I've heard of him, a second-year student, prodigiously talented in business management. I've dined at the Iceberg Restaurant with classmates. It's quite novel, frankly."

Pamela didn't know why she always gave long-winded responses to Shiller's questions as it was quite out of character for her. Such a behavior was typical of ordinary people with heightened emotions.

Then she realized that she might be unconsciously enveloped in a potentially dangerous environment, with the source of danger being the man standing next to her. Consequently, her nerves were always on edge and her excitement soared.

"You're right, all those praises he's earned are true and I've heard about him as well. So, are you aware of his status in the mob?"

"He's the current Godfather's favorite."

"Quite so, miss, he recently approached me pertaining to an unusual serial homicide case. You might be familiar with the symptom - toxic swelling."

Pamela nodded, "Surely, Professor Victor told me about this. Have you found the murderer yet?"

"Not yet, only a detective would investigate the murderer."

Pamela raised her eyebrows, "Aren't you a detective?"

"A detective would find the murderer, whereas a murderer would frame another."

"Did you do it?" Pamela asked in surprise, but she didn't feel surprised at all.

Shiller shook his head and responded, "No, but an uncommitted murderer would create another murderer."

"Bang!"

The loud noise startled Pamela. She mentally complained about the downsides of heightened senses, as even small occurrences could trigger anxiety.

Pamela peered out to see a group of mob members with live ammunition enter through the mansion's front door. Oswald, who wasn't particularly robust, stood out amongst the formidable gangsters. As he stepped onto the mansion's doormat and entered, his silhouette was swallowed by the dazzling lights of the ballroom.

Shiller was quick to act. He hurried along the shadows of the street towards the building. Pamela struggled to keep up with him, finding it hard to match his speed.

Stating with the same rapidity, Shiller said, "I told Kolbott a clear fact - I don't have the means to unravel the truth of the case."

"How could he believe that?"

"Under regular circumstances, he wouldn't. But my point is that the circumstances are unusual. The renowned Chemist Jonathan Crane gave me a conclusion – the toxin present in the victims' body couldn't be analyzed as it's not a product of technology."

It dawned on Pamela, "...Magic?"

"Kolbott would naturally think so. Because if I told him that detective methods can't identify the murderer, it means the murderer leaves no trace, hence, any investigation would be fruitless."

"But there's no other evidence indicating it was done by a magician."

"He doesn't need other evidence." Shiller briskly turned the corner at the rear side of the building, heading towards the already opened side door. "The mob isn't detective, they usually apprehend the murderer first before revealing the clues."

"Barbaric but effective."

"And very susceptible to manipulation."

Without hesitation, Shiller strode into the dark corridor. Pamela snapped her fingers, conjuring a green flame in her hand. However, Shiller shook his head and said, "If you have night vision abilities, use them. But don't make a light."

"You also don't want to be found by the mob?"