The fairy maid cheers for her deceased master today.

Elena was, of course, eager to know what would happen next.

The silver theft is directly linked to a case from three years ago. That case cost Elena her close friend, Catherine.

Now, Elena is determined to find the real culprit so that Catherine can finally rest in peace.

So the next day, as the London morning mist, carrying the scent of coal smoke and damp earth, enveloped the streets, Axe, Elena, and Angel were already standing in front of Scotland Yard's Second Precinct.

Guided by the security guard, the group stepped inside.

It was still early, and several gas lamps hanging from the high ceiling were still lit.

The air was filled with the smells of ink, tobacco, and hot coffee.

Several policemen in dark uniforms hurried past, their leather boots making a crisp, rapid sound as they tapped the ground.

Since they weren't arriving as high-ranking nobles, the police didn't seem inclined to treat them with any respect. They weren't even led to the reception room; they were simply left in the lobby.

Then I'll have to find out Sheriff Doyle's location myself.

Fortunately, there were police officers busy at the information desk in the lobby.

"Excuse me, is Sheriff Doyle here?" Ex approached the policeman who was bent over organizing documents. There was a tall pile of papers on the other officer's desk, and the nib of a pen scratched on the paper.

The policeman looked up, his sharp gaze sweeping over the three men like a scalpel before finally settling on X.

Meanwhile, Axe was also observing him. There was a coffee stain on his uniform collar, and fatigue was hidden in the wrinkles around his eyes. He looked like he had been busy for several days in a row.

"I am Sheriff Doyle. And who are you?"

Skillful!

"Sir Ax Mohr, this is Detective Elena, and this is my maid Angel." Ax handed over Deacon Samuel's letter. "We're here regarding Caroline's case."

"Caroline's case?"

Sheriff Doyle took the letter, his thick fingers gently rubbing the remaining sealing wax marks, the calluses on his fingertips making the wax shine slightly.

"Deacon Samuel... it's been a long time since I've heard that name." He sighed, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "Now, I owe him nothing. Come with me, my office is on the second floor."

Sheriff Doyle dropped what he was doing and led the three of them upstairs.

The three followed the sheriff through a long corridor, where the walls were covered with yellowed wanted posters and case notices, some with their edges curled up.

Irena's gaze was drawn to a faded notice—it depicted the silhouette of a fairy with long, pointed ears, and next to it, in red ink, read, "Dangerous alien species, report immediately if found," the writing somewhat blurred.

"This way." Sheriff Doyle pushed open a heavy oak door, behind which was his office.

Several rows of dark-colored filing shelves stood against the wall, filled with labeled files; in the middle was a large mahogany desk with several documents spread out, and a coffee cup that wasn't steaming sat beside it; an old coat draped over a leather sofa in the corner, and morning dewdrops clung to the fern leaves on the windowsill.

Sheriff Doyle took a thick, dark brown folder from the file shelf, with a white serial number printed on the cover: "SCOT2-Y1851-0510-002".

Doyle gestured for the door to close.

So Irene did as she was told and gently closed the door.

"These are some case files that haven't been filed yet. This is Caroline's death file," Sheriff Doyle began to introduce.

As he spoke, he opened the folder, the papers rustling softly: "On the evening of May 10, 1851, we found her body in a hotel in the East London docklands along the Thames."

X and Elena leaned closer to examine the file; the text was neat and detailed. In short, it contained the following key pieces of information:

Presumed date of death: evening of May 10, 1851.

Location of discovery: River Thames, East London Docklands, hotel.

The deceased's identity: Caroline, female, fairy, 24 years old. She was an escort for the "Divine Blessing Ceremony Preparatory Group," a collaborative project between the church and the royal family.

Cause of death: Dismemberment, multiple fatal injuries.

Corpse condition: Completely dismembered, exhibiting partial swampy characteristics.

"These are photos from the scene." Sheriff Doyle took several black-and-white photos from a drawer. "Just a heads-up, the content might be disturbing?"

"Sheriff," Elena said earnestly, "we're detectives."

"I understand, I was overthinking it. Please take a look."

The first photo is of the crime scene: several limbs are scattered on the floor of the hotel room, and dark blood seeps into the ground and the cracks in the floor tiles; the second photo is a close-up—the skin of a severed hand is an eerie gray-green, and black sludge is stuck in the fingernails; the third photo is the most shocking: Caroline's head lies in the corner, her eyes staring blankly at the camera, and there seems to be a strange smile remaining on her lips.

"It really is swamp-like..." Elena's voice was filled with certainty. "The state of the limbs... these are typical characteristics of alien contamination. It's also the initial sign that swamp-like transformation has begun."

Sheriff Doyle nodded slowly, a hint of seriousness flashing in his gray eyes:

"That's right. Basically, everyone believes it was an accident caused by an alien attack."

“But that’s impossible. I mean…” Ex pondered, “A wandering alien attacked a fairy in the inn, but none of the other guests were harmed. That doesn’t sound normal.”

"Yes, but some people think it's simply a habit of the alien species to attack fairies. They don't seem to realize that, besides attacking fairies, the alien species have never stopped attacking humans..."

Ex narrowed his eyes. Could it be that some people in the police department wanted to close the case quickly?

"Sheriff! A new report has arrived!" A young and loud voice came from the doorway, followed by a knock, breaking the silence in the office.

Sheriff Doyle immediately returned the letter to Ax, who carefully put it away. Then Sheriff Doyle went to open the door.

A young policeman in a brand-new uniform stood in the doorway—his uniform was pressed without a single wrinkle, fit better than the other policemen's, and the badge pinned to his chest gleamed under the gaslight; his light brown hair was neatly combed, with not a single stray hair on his forehead.

His blue eyes were bright and expressive, and his face radiated the youthful energy unique to young people. Even the stubble on his chin was neatly shaved.

"Ah, James, you've come at the right time." Sheriff Doyle waved to him and pointed to the three of them, "These are the detectives I invited to investigate the Caroline case."

"Yes, I'm Elena from Miss Detective Agency. Nice to meet you," Elena said with a smile, confirming Sheriff Doyle's statement.

The others also introduced themselves and got to know each other.

James strode up to the three men, stood with his feet together, and gave a crisp salute: "James Wilson, a police officer who's been on the job for a little over a year, nice to meet you all!"

His voice was loud and energetic, like the spring sunshine, a stark contrast to the seriousness and exhaustion of the other police officers in the station.

Axe's gaze unconsciously fell on James's hands, noticing that he was wearing gloves that were different from those of ordinary police officers—the gloves were made of a more refined material, with a faint metallic sheen on the surface, and anti-slip textures on the fingers.

It's too conspicuous!

"What are you wearing on your wrist...?"

James proudly raised his hand, showing off the glove on his hand:

"These are the latest model of protective gloves, which are more advanced than the standard gloves issued by the police station. I bought them with my own money. This way, I won't cut my hands no matter what I'm doing, and I can better protect the public."

Sheriff Doyle shook his head helplessly, a wry smile on his lips: "This kid has only been with the force for a little over a year, but he works harder than many veterans—he's the first to arrive at the station every day and the last to leave, and he always rushes to the front whenever there's a case."

"Because protecting citizens is our duty as police officers!" James straightened his chest, his eyes filled with determination. "Especially in cases involving fairies, we have to be extra vigilant."

Axe looked at James thoughtfully, then suddenly asked...

"Officer Wilson, what are your thoughts on Caroline's case?"

James's eyes lit up instantly, as if he had found a kindred spirit:

"I don't think this is a simple accident; it's a murder! The swamp-like corpse, the slime stains at the scene... I suspect it was done by a mutant! And..."

He lowered his voice and leaned closer to the three of them.

"I heard that Caroline participated in the escort of the silverware during the Blessing Ceremony. She may have discovered some secrets she shouldn't have."

Irene raised an eyebrow, looking at him with interest. "Oh? So what do you think she discovered?"

"This..." James hesitated for a moment, a hint of uncertainty flashing in his eyes, but quickly replaced by determination. "She discovered Lucy's secret! Fairy Lucy is the culprit behind the theft of the royal magical silverware!"