Steel, gunpowder, and spellcasters

Chapter 38 Autopsy Report
Having vomited up all his bile, Lieutenant Colonel Field was clearly not in the mood to return to Army Headquarters. He could smell the stench emanating from his body and all he wanted to do was get home and clean himself up.

He led his black horse and, as they walked, instructed Winters: "Take these two files back to the gendarmerie, have Moruk file them, and have him make two more copies."

Walking back to the rammed earth road from the roadside ditch, the lieutenant colonel mounted his horse, looked at Winters, who was in a similarly miserable state, and said in a hoarse voice, "You did very well today, you didn't disgrace the army. After delivering the files to Moruk, go straight home, take a good shower, and get some sleep. Today was really tough."

After saying this, Field squeezed his legs tightly around the horse's flanks, flicked the whip, and galloped away, seemingly heading straight home.

Although Winters, a pragmatist, deeply believed that trying to save face through ruthless tactics was pointless, he was still somewhat pleased to receive verbal praise from his boss.

Lieutenant Montagne, a newcomer to the workforce with a relatively low threshold for experience, checked the two files in his saddlebag and, after confirming they were complete, mounted his horse and headed straight for Army Headquarters.

After returning the horse and heading back to the military police station, Winters handed the case file to the blond scribe Moruk, but instead of going straight home, he picked up the autopsy report while Moruk was engrossed in copying it and sat down on a bench to read it carefully.

Although Winters did not know the specific details, he judged from the words of Customs Officer Lop that the task of investigating the dockside assassination had obviously been handed over to Lieutenant Colonel Field.

If that's the case, even if the lieutenant colonel doesn't speak, he believes he should try his best to find out the relevant information.

Another reason is that, as a witness to the case, or even the first witness, he was very eager to know what the customs authorities had found.

The customs autopsy report was very detailed. All three passengers, whose bodies remained intact, died from sharp-force injuries, with multiple vital organs punctured, ultimately resulting in massive internal bleeding. The doctor in charge of the autopsies speculated that the sharp-force injuries were caused by a narrow-bladed, straight weapon.

"This coroner is quite capable," Winters thought. He recalled the one-handed sword in the black-robed man's hand, which moved as nimbly as a viper; it was indeed a narrow-bladed, straight sword.

As for the specific weapon, the coroner believed the most likely candidate was the Rapier.

Swift sword? Winters had heard of this weapon when he was in military school, but he had never seen one in person.

He continued reading and saw that of the three passengers who were supposed to be guards, only one died from a frontal wound, while the other two were fatally wounded from the side and rear.

Winters pondered: The one who died from a frontal wound must have been the one who was ambushed at the beginning. The other two died from the side and rear, which means that these guards were also skilled in swordsmanship. The man in black robes could not quickly deal with them one-on-one.

The autopsy report contained only scattered information such as height and hair color.

Based on factors such as the degree of tooth wear, the coroner determined that the three men were approximately between 25 and 30 years old. Their robust physiques and good builds suggested they were not from a low social class. They likely ate meat regularly, as such muscle mass cannot be built from a diet consisting solely of wheat flour.

The coroner concluded: "All three victims had calluses on their palms. Considering they were clearly not farmers who needed to do manual labor, these calluses must be marks left from years of weapon practice. Therefore, we can infer that the three victims were either mercenaries, or wealthy craftsmen and merchants with time to practice weaponry, or perhaps..."

The text abruptly ends at the word "maybe," and the rest is erased with ink.

When copying documents by hand, mistakes are inevitable; markings and erasures are perfectly normal. When Maurice copied the document, he would naturally ignore the markings and erasures, and the newly copied document would end at the "craftsmen and merchants" section. This particular document, however, is clearly the original handwritten by the coroner himself.

Winters couldn't make out what had been erased, but he could guess that the coroner meant to say—a soldier.

The term "soldier" is even somewhat inaccurate; a more accurate description would be "officer."

The lower-ranking soldiers also lead tough lives and don't have the pampered airs of the passengers. The officers, on the other hand, fit the description of someone who practices with cold weapons year-round and has good food and drink.

The coroner included the officer's name as one of the possible causes in the report, but customs officials, clearly not wanting to complicate matters, crossed out that part.

If there is solid evidence, that's fine. But if there is no solid evidence and they say that the three dead were officers, the army, which is already furious about the unjust detention of probationary officers, will surely be in an uproar.
Winters was beginning to understand why the case had been transferred to the Army.

Winters would have scoffed at the speculation that the three men might be officers, even if he hadn't witnessed the entire incident firsthand.

But he kept thinking about the traveler who could use the deflection technique. Since muskets were not very accurate, Winters couldn't be sure that the shot that went astray was definitely the effect of the deflection technique, but he kept that thought in mind.

“Should we report this information to Lieutenant Colonel Field?” Winters rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “But I’ve already promised to discuss this with Major Moritz in secret.”

If that person is indeed an army spellcaster officer, then this matter is extremely serious.

The fact that the officer was a military officer is already sensitive enough. Who would kill a military officer in broad daylight? And the one who died was a spellcaster? The danger emanating from this case is even more pungent than the stench of the customs morgue.

If that person wasn't an army spellcaster officer, the nature of this matter... would be even more serious.

This means that either the Magic Operations Bureau's achievements have been stolen by outsiders, and the thieves have also trained spellcasters capable of using advanced spells like Deflection.
Or perhaps... the deceased traveler was a legendary court mage; I've never heard of anyone else using magic. But would a court mage be so easily killed?
Winters's head throbbed with worry. He decided that if Lieutenant Colonel Field didn't ask, he would remain silent. He trusted Major Moritz more than Field.

And since you don't ask, my not telling you doesn't mean I'm deliberately hiding anything.

Thinking of this, he couldn't help but feel a little resentful: "Didn't we agree to discuss this in secret? Why did the major disappear like that? I'll have to ask my uncle when I get home if he knows where the major is."

The autopsy report did not reveal anything unusual about the suspected spellcaster, and none of the three had tattoos or obvious scars.

As for the passenger who was shattered into pieces, although the coroner did not give a cause of death, Winters knew that he was stabbed in the left rib by an assassin with a dagger, and the explosion only hastened his death and destroyed the body.

But for some reason, Winters always seemed a bit off, like something was off.

He carefully reviewed the autopsy report again, making sure he hadn't missed anything. But he still couldn't pinpoint the source of this unease.

Moruk had already finished copying the Customs and Guard Bureau's investigation file and had remained silent, quietly waiting for Winters to finish reading the autopsy report. Winters exchanged documents with the scribe apologetically and continued reading the investigation file.

The investigation file was even shorter than the autopsy report.

The Customs and Guard Division's approach was simple and direct: they immediately began investigating who the assassins were. However, the assassins all wore masks and cloaks, and no one had ever seen their faces.

It seems we can't find out who the assassin is for now, so let's find out where the assassin went. According to the vendors near the dock, the assassin fled eastward along the main road in a black carriage.

Now that we know the carriage is unlicensed and where it's going, all we need to do is investigate.

The Venetians prefer a lavish style, so pure black carriages are not very common; only some coachmen use such carriages.

However, the Customs Guard's investigation encountered another problem. They inquired at shops along the route the assassin had taken, but found that after six or seven blocks, no one remembered the carriage. Who would care about an ordinary carriage on the road?
When the guards described the carriage's features in detail and questioned it repeatedly, the merchants seemed to remember the carriage. However, the destinations they gave were all over the place, and some even swore they saw the carriage not coming from the dock, but going to the dock.

In response, the Lop official believed that these testimonies were not credible, purely because the customs investigators described the carriage in too much detail and questioned it too aggressively, thus leading the street vendors to give their statements.

Since the murderer is unknown, how about we find out who the deceased is? But the crew of the Skua knew nothing about the deceased either.

They wanted to question the captain, but discovered that he was just an acting captain; the original captain was still leading the Lucky Star adrift at sea, oblivious to its fate.

The final investigation revealed that the assassin was nowhere to be found, nor was the carriage. Several bodies were found at the port, but no one knew who the victims were. Winters had to admit that, as Lop had said, the case was a complete mess, almost a cold case that was destined to remain unsolved. Whoever took it on would have a headache, and it was no wonder that Lieutenant Colonel Field was so angry that he was yelling in his office today.

However, Winters, as a witness at the scene, also had his own intelligence advantage. He discovered that customs officials had not yet realized that the passenger who was blown to pieces was actually killed by someone disguised as a dockworker.

Moreover, it is clear that assassins have infiltrated the dockworkers. These assassins are not masked and may become a breakthrough point.

Moreover, the army warrant officers were all at the dock that day, and there were many witnesses. Perhaps other warrant officers also noticed some valuable intelligence that day.

Having finished reading both files, Winters stood up and stretched his stiff body. He suddenly remembered that he hadn't properly thanked Ben Vinuto for saving him from the water.

The two agreed to meet that night when they returned to Hailan, but Winters ended up in the customs jail that night and they haven't been able to meet since.

With that in mind, Winters decided to take advantage of the opportunity to go home, change his clothes, and clean himself up. He would go to Benvinuto's house to find Benvinuto later when the dockworkers finished work.

He said goodbye to Moruk and headed home.

---Dividing line---

Winters returned home, and the daytime servants opened the door for him. Kosha was sitting on a bench in the drawing room, a small basket on her lap, fiddling with some embroidery.

The general, who had been sleeping beside her, was startled awake by the sound of the door opening. He sat up alertly and looked in the direction of the person who had entered. When he saw it was Winters, he lay back down.

Upon seeing her nephew return home, Kosa happily put down her needlework and stood up to greet him: "How was your first day of apprenticeship? Where did you get this knife?... Oh dear, where have you been? You smell strange."

“Really? Does it really smell? I thought it was just my imagination.” Winters replied with a smile, avoiding the topics of corpses and murder: “The knife was lent to me by Lieutenant Colonel Field. He said that soldiers cannot go without their swords. Today, the lieutenant colonel and I went to a particularly smelly place.”

"Quickly change out of these clothes and take a good bath." Kosa wrinkled her nose and gently called to the maid, "Mother Marita, please prepare some hot water for Young Master Winters."

"No need to trouble the old nanny, I can take a cold shower. I always took cold showers at military school, I'm used to it." Winters was naturally unwilling to cause trouble for others.

“The well water is too cold; you’ll get sick.” Kosha ignored Winters’s opinion and gestured for the maid to continue boiling water.

She suddenly said happily, "How about coming with me to Meva's [the famous tailor shop in Hailan City] later? I haven't been there in a long time. I need to make you some new clothes. Look at you, you don't have any clothes to wear except your military uniform, this won't do."

The thought of going to the tailor shop made Kosa's eyes light up, and no one knew why she was so happy.

Winters instinctively wanted to refuse: "I'm fine with this uniform, it's enough for me. I'm not used to wearing civilian clothes, I prefer wearing boots."

“How can that be? People will laugh at you if you don’t have proper clothes.” Kosa knew that her nephew had never liked dressing up since he was a child, so she had to push him along: “Don’t worry about it, just come with me. It won’t take you too long. I’ve helped your uncle make his clothes. Go on, go on, go take a shower.”

Winters found it troublesome, but he couldn't really find a reason to refuse his aunt. He estimated the time; Benway was still working at the docks, and it wouldn't take him and his aunt too long to go to the tailor shop. After returning, they could go directly to Benway, so he nodded.

Seeing Winters nod in agreement, Cosa, fearing her nephew might change his mind, pushed him to take a bath while happily instructing the servants to have the stable boy prepare the carriage.

Winters' mind was now preoccupied with the case at the docks. His intuition told him that there was a crucial point he hadn't figured out, but that point was like looking through a thick layer of leather—he couldn't grasp it or see it clearly.

He took a quick cold shower and went back to his room to change into a clean military academy cadet uniform. Winters would continue to wear the cadet uniform until he finished his probationary period, and only after he officially received the rank of second lieutenant could he wear the junior officer uniform.

When Winters finished showering and changing his clothes and came downstairs, Kosha wasn't in the downstairs drawing room. Winters pushed open the door and saw the carriage waiting there, but his aunt wasn't in the carriage either.

"Where did my aunt go?" Winters was very puzzled.

Winters' uncle did not treat his soldiers like servants, as some high-ranking officers did. Apart from the old nanny, all the servants in the family were hired from outside. Major General António's orderly did not enter the courtyard.

The stables at Serbiati's residence were small and were all looked after by a man in his fifties from the highlands. This man served as both a groom and a coachman, making him a versatile individual.

However, Winters did not recognize him. During the time Winters was away attending military school in the United Provinces, the original coachman left and was replaced by this man.

Winters suddenly thought he could ask the coachman for information about the carriage. He greeted the coachman politely, and the coachman, flattered, removed his hat in return.

"May I ask you something?" Winters asked with a smile.

“Please speak, young master, please ask whatever you wish.” The coachman nodded repeatedly.

The coachman's seat was high, so Winters had to look up to speak: "Do you know any other coachmen in Aquamarine City?"

“We know each other a little bit; all coachmen know each other to some extent.” The coachman blinked and added, “Many of us Parathu people work as coachmen here.”

Are there many black carriages in the city? Are there many carriages with black paint and silver trim?

"I'm not sure about that. Such plain carriages aren't very common, but there should be some. Some Puritans don't like fancy decorations. Hey, those guys don't like anything." The driver clearly looked down on the Puritans.

Winters grasped a key point about Puritans and repeated it to himself several times.

"What if I want to find a car with black paint and silver trim?" Winters continued to press.

The driver scratched his head: "I'm not sure about that. Do you want to rent one or buy one? If you want to rent, I can ask the Brotherhood for you."

"What is a fraternity?" Winters heard another new term.

Realizing his slip of the tongue, the coachman chuckled awkwardly and said, "Did I say anything? I meant I could ask a few other coachmen for their opinions."

Seeing that the coachman was hiding something, Winters stared intently into his eyes and asked, word by word, "If I want a carriage to disappear, can the Brotherhood you mentioned help me?"

The coachman avoided Winters' gaze, forcing a smile as he said, "I really don't know. I'm just a poor man. Please pretend I didn't say anything, okay?"

It was "I don't know," not "I can't," and Winters had already gotten the answer he wanted.

Thank you to Social Justice Old Wang for the recommendation vote, thank you to Book Friend 20181013204343295 for the recommendation vote, and thank you to Book Friend 20170726153222839 for the recommendation vote. My four cats bow to you all from afar.

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(End of this chapter)