Blank

"Oksan, give me this for five alright?"

Arth... was haggling with an old lady at the local bakery down the street a few blocks from the estate.

"Shut it fish brain."

"Eight! Eight, I will increase my price to eight! Eight dimes or pennies or whatever the hell your currency is!"

"Oioi I should be the one increasing the price here! And why does it sound like eight is a very righteous price huh?! Ten. Take it or get you ass going."

"Tch."

He bought the bread anyways. Cinnamon bread is good.

"Hey, Ayre listen to this. I bargained for a piece of bread. I made it half the price but the fucker was not giving it to me so I bought it for the full price. Are your country's stores like those?"

"That's a fucking bakery. Not some random street food seller. Even them does not accept bargaining. Wait did you just....stopped the ride for that?"

"Yeah why?"

"0-0", was Ayre's expression.

"Anyways, my country's not like that at all. Everything can be bargained. And I mean everything eheheh." Sigh. Without in his working mode, Arth kind of turns into a kid.

"So? Mind telling me at least the background of this mess?" Ayre brought up a more serious topic.

"No. We cannot disclose information like those. All that you will know will be from the questions. Try to infer them yourself. That's my personal advice." Arth answered while having his index finger touch his lips perpendicularly as if telling Ayre to keep quiet about the thing he just said.

"Hoh..."

The two soon arrived at the 12th Street Local Station.

"Aren't you... too lax?"

"I told you didn't I? I am a magnanimous person." Explained Arth. He then instructed. "Turn right the moment you enter and turn left at the next corner. Fourth room on the right will be the interrogation room. I will be putting down my cinnamon bread in my office."

"Aight." Said Ayre uncaringly.

The whole station was a maze. Thankfully, Arth gave instructions and the room itself wasn't far from the entrance or else Ayre might have already been wandering aimlessly not knowing where he was at the moment.

He found and entered the said room.

He then sat. He looked at the mirror and his ever-bored expression was reflected. Some miraculous things happened. How should he explain them?

As he was pondering, lost in thoughts, the door suddenly opened.

"Hello, hello. So let's begin."

"Finished your bread?"

"So let's start with the basic of the basics. Where were you, scratch that, what were you doing two nights ago?"

He ignored Ayre's inquiry about the bread.

"Earlier that day, when I attended the mass." Ayre started. "I noticed what I thought was a suspicious activity. I later found out that it was just a normal transporting of things of the new cardinal, Cardinal Eryl. As you may know, or not, Flinn moved away somewhere so he is now the permanent substitute. My father confirmed it. Anyways, I got their documents but I forgot to return a certain...letter?"

"Letter?" Arth Inquired.

"I can't remember it properly but it was a piece of paper I should return to Min, Cardinal Eryl's subordinate." He lied so truthfully. "At night, when I was about to have a rest before dinner, I forgot I was supposed to hand it in so I instructed a maid to give it to my driver, Dan, whom I was with the during the day, to return it to Min as soon as possible. Turned out I gave her the wrong letter and gave her a blank sheet so she returned it to me. I then later gave her the correct one to give to Dan. Then as I was just preparing to take a pre-dinner nap, someone knocked. What happened next, I told you in the room earlier."

"So 'covered from head to toe with clothes. Gender indistinguishable because of it. Woke up from sleep because of him opening the door. Opening a door wasn't weird but his knocking was. I thought he was a servant calling me for dinner but I was met with silence' this guy?" Arth confirmed.

"Yes. How did you remember the exact words I said?"

"Copy, paste why? Oh. Well, it is necessary memorizing information like those. Especially if there are lazy witnesses such as you who just say 'what happened next, I told you in the room earlier'."

Ayre just rolled his eyes at this reply.

"Anyways I just ran. The end. Wait, I should have wait for a lawyer or something before saying anything right...?"

Ayre finished his statement and asked a rather dumb question at the end.

"Doesn't matter. You're not a suspect or an accomplice or anything after all." Arth said indifferently. It seemed like he was thinking about something else.

"What?" He was confused, as clear as it could be.

"That was a lie. Give my thanks to your parents."

"What's the difference between what I said back there than what I said here? They're the same right?"

"I'll treat you to an answer. It's what you said you did during the day."

"Huh."

At this point, Arth started thinking. He even forgot Ayre was in the room and started mumbling by himself.

"A murder, a moving, a mysterious person, a letter. Are they connected? The incident at the estate roughly happened at the same time as the murder. That honeycomb fucker is back too? If so, what would be his connection with the mysterious person? Sigh."

At the end of his mumblings, he let out a sigh. Nothing was making sense. Connected? What a forced conclusion, he thought.

"Ah. How idiotic have I become."

"Ano... I should go now right?"

Arth was startled.

"Oh, oh yeah sorry you can go now."

The door slammed shut.

"Dude told me I can infer things through the questions. Those questions were useless though? That was blank as hell."

Ayre left one last remark before leaving the station.

Arth was now alone in a room full of mirrors.

"Cardinal Eryl huh. Hahaha. I see so that's how it is. I should visit him sometimes.

Now for the victim.

Amelia Lawson. A woman in her mid 20's living in District D.

District D, a rather relatively wealthy district but it can't be compared to the real wealthy. At most upper, middle class residents live there.

Lawson was an unemployed girl living by his father's money who is working in the States of Urket after his wife died with the official cause as cardio disease.

The victim mostly spent her time in the club talking with the other guests. At night before dinner, she takes a nap and then have her dinner at a certain restaurant.

No further information that may be helpful towards the case huh. What a useless report. Did they think the previous information were useful? And... do people normally spend their time before dinner napping? Or maybe it's the rich's thing? District D is, after all near the estate."

He summarized all the police's useful findings about the victim.

"Time of death: approximately six to eight pm, first day of Aquarius.

Cause of death...." The cause made him shiver. In an absolute sense, the cause was dreadful but for him, it was not the case at all. Instead, it was because it reminded him of something that happened few years prior. It was an international case with a single proprietor. Until now, news of the mass murderer getting caught was all but nonexistent.

"...One thousand sixty nine circular stab wounds. Heh, more like holes. What a cute little accident."

Self-mocking statements. That was all that came out.

"Now, for the artist of this dreadful canvas."

He took out a paper from a folder.

As he look at the paper he couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Haha." The last two laughs.

"This shit's blank as hell."