The fairy maid cheers for her deceased master today.

The morning of May 15, 1851.

The distant bells had just struck six.

In the machine shop, Sir Axe had been sitting in front of the fireplace all night.

Since he didn't need sleep, he simply whiled away the time thinking about the case. On the oak table in front of him lay copies of the police case file and several rough sketches.

Although the police files cannot be taken away, X can memorize the core content and write it down.

The sketches were reproductions of the black and white photographs I saw at the time.

Recalling the scene he had witnessed, Axe picked up a charcoal pencil and added details to Caroline's body on the sketch paper—the edges of the torn wounds, the irregularly serrated muscle fibers, and the dark brown bite marks on the bones, like the teeth marks of some giant beast.

And there are also traces of swamp formation.

Ax tapped the wound on the sketch with his fingertips, his brow furrowing slightly. "Elena's assumption is correct; these are definitely traces of an alien species. But why is only Caroline affected?"

The firewood in the fireplace crackled and sparks flew out.

Axe recalled the look on Sheriff Doyle's face when he handed him the case file last night; it held a complex mix of confusion and fear.

The police report made no mention of the possibility of a human attack, only vaguely stating "suspected alien attack," but X knew that ordinary aliens would not have such intelligence and would not be able to accurately avoid the other humans in the hotel.

"Could it be that the mutants are really being controlled by someone?"

Once the thought popped into my head, it entangled X's thoughts like a vine.

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He stood up and paced back and forth, the floor making a slight creak.

There are too few clues, and we have no leads.

Until the first ray of sunlight pierced through the gaps in the blinds, casting a thin, golden line on the floor.

The fairies also got up.

Angel, dressed in a crisply starched maid's uniform, quickly emerged from the inner room carrying a tray.

Her silver hair was tied into a neat bow with a pink ribbon. On the tray were golden-brown toasted bread, steaming hot black tea, and a small dish of strawberry jam.

The food was placed on a small dining table.

"Master! Breakfast is ready." Her voice, clear as a wind chime, broke the silence of the morning.

Irene also came over, her green skirt stained with a little dust, and a few tender green vines wrapped around her.

Two of the vines were manipulating a broom and a rag respectively, skillfully sweeping away the metal shavings on the ground.

Even without X's instructions, she had already taken on the duties of a maid.

"Didn't you get any rest again last night?" She glanced at Ax, flicked the vines lightly, and precisely wiped the gaps in the gears with a rag. "If this keeps up, Sir, your dark circles will be as thick as the London fog."

This was obviously a joke; X knew that since his death, his eye circles could never have turned black again.

AX walked to the table, sat down, and took the black tea that Angel handed him. The warm liquid slid down his throat, dispelling the troubles of the night.

"There are too few clues," AX sighed. "Judging from the photos, there are no signs of a human struggle in Caroline's room, and the alien seems to have appeared directly in front of her, and..."

He paused, then looked at Elena. "The other guests at the hotel are all safe and sound, which is very unusual."

Irene manipulated the vines to lean the broom against the corner of the wall, walked to the table, and picked up a piece of bread.

"The nature of the alien species is to attack all living things, unless..." Her eyes lit up, "unless they are bound by some force and only target Caroline."

"Controlled by someone?" Angel sat down, biting into her bread, and mumbled, "But who can control aliens? Aren't they driven by instinct, only capable of aggression?"

Are we simply... driven by instinct?

But what if it's a special variant like Spring-Heeled Jack?

While such speculation exists, the idea that Spring-Heeled Jack would be under someone's command... seems equally unbelievable.

Therefore, Ax did not answer, but simply took his teacup and walked to the window.

Pedestrians gradually appeared on the streets, and the sounds of carriage wheels and vendors' cries mingled together, creating a symphony of London's morning.

After a while, the workshop door was gently pushed open, and the fairy Sophie walked in carrying an exquisite velvet handbag.

Sophie was wearing a light purple dress with silver embroidery on the hem. Her blonde hair was styled into an elegant updo, and pearl earrings dangled from her ears. Every step she took looked like a dance.

Upon seeing Sir Ax, a gentle smile graced her lips: "Good morning, dear Sir Ax. Good morning, dear Miss Elena, Miss Angel."

"Sophie, you've finally arrived." Axe immediately welcomed her into the workshop. "I'll be leaving the workshop to you today."

Sophie looked at the three people in the room with curiosity.

When her gaze fell on Angel, she noticed that Angel was standing with her hands on her hips, looking quite smug. She couldn't help but laugh: "Sir, are you heading out? You seem to be in a hurry."

"Of course!" Angel immediately puffed out her chest. "We're going to solve the case! We found a clue yesterday, and today we're going to check out the scene at the hotel!"

Sophie nodded, looked at Elena, and said with a hint of teasing in her eyes, "I see, so our little detective is with us too."

"Huh? I'm not little!"

Elena immediately retorted, but when her gaze inadvertently swept over Sophie's ample bosom, she paused for a moment.

"I... am not small."

Ex couldn't help but chuckle softly.

So that's what "small" means? That makes some sense.

Irene glared at him immediately, but didn't argue back. She simply picked up the hat from the table and put it on her head.

Sophie watched their interaction and gently covered her mouth with a smile.

"Alright, I'm not teasing you anymore. By the way, Alice's Cake Shop is selling a limited edition Black Forest cake today, made with cherries imported from abroad. If you happen to be passing by, you can try it."

"We're going to a hotel on the east bank of the Thames, in the opposite direction from the cake shop," Elena shook her head. "We'll probably be busy all day, so we won't take the long way around."

"That's such a pity." Sophie looked regretful, then took a small box from her handbag and handed it to Angel. "These are cookies I made yesterday. You can eat them on your way. I wish you good luck in solving the case and a speedy return."

"Thank you, Sister Sophie!" Angel took the box, immediately opened it, and tasted a piece. "It's delicious!"

After saying goodbye to Sophie, the three left the workshop and boarded the carriage they had booked in advance. The carriage wheels made a crisp sound as they rolled over the cobblestones and headed towards the East London docks.

■

The East London docklands were filled with the damp smell of fish and coal smoke. Dockworkers, dressed in tattered clothes, carried heavy sacks back and forth, while ships in the distance sounded their horns and slowly entered the harbor.

The sign for "Tree Hole Hotel" hangs on a three-story wooden building, the paint peeling off and it looking somewhat dilapidated.

As the three reached the hotel entrance, they saw a young man in a police uniform pacing back and forth. Upon seeing them, the officer's eyes lit up, and he jogged over to meet them.

"Sir Axe, Miss Elena, Miss Angel, you've finally arrived!" His tone was full of enthusiasm, and his face radiated the youthful energy characteristic of young people.

"Officer James, we're not late, are we?" Ax asked with a smile.

"No, no, I'm just too early." James scratched his head, then put his feet together and gave a perfect salute. "James Wilson, from today onwards, will cooperate with the detectives. Please give your instructions!"

Irene was amused by his serious demeanor: "No need to be so formal. We're just partners, helping each other out."

Ex waved his hand, interrupting their pleasantries: "Alright, let's go inside and take a look at the scene."

As the three entered the hotel lobby, a smell of mustiness and tobacco hit them.

Behind the counter, a middle-aged man in a greasy apron was frowning as he did the accounting. Upon seeing James, he immediately slammed his pen on the table and angrily said:

"Officer, how long are you going to keep sealing that room off? Can't you just clean it up already? The body's been gone for days, what's the point of sealing it off now!"

"Boss, isn't this still under investigation?" James said with a forced smile.

"Investigate, investigate! All you ever do is investigate!" The boss suddenly stood up, slamming his hand on the counter. "That's our hotel's best superior room! Before, guests would scramble to stay there! Now, if someone asks, I can only say a VIP booked it for three months, but who's going to believe that? The locals all know someone died here, and now even outsiders aren't coming! If this keeps up, my hotel will go out of business!"

Angel asked curiously, "Does it really have that much of an impact?"

"It's more than just an impact!" the boss exclaimed excitedly. "Last week, a caravan was going to book the entire third floor, but as soon as they heard about that room, they left immediately! There was also an old lady from the countryside who was going to stay for a week, but she heard something at night and got so scared that she checked out and left in the middle of the night! I'm almost unable to keep my business going!"

The boss's voice grew louder and louder, but James's expression also worsened.

Seeing that the boss was about to continue complaining, he pulled out his police ID from his pocket and slammed it on the counter, while the pistol on his waist made a slight sound.

"Boss, we're handling this case according to the law," his eyes sharpened. "The scene can't be disturbed until the investigation is complete. If you obstruct us again, I'll arrest you for obstructing official business!"

The boss's imposing manner instantly weakened. He glanced at James's police badge, then at the sidearm beside him, swallowed hard, took a brass key from the drawer, and handed it over.

"Alright, alright, hurry up and look, then clean up right away!"

James put away his police badge and flashed a bright smile: "Don't worry, boss, we should be done after today's inspection. Let's go upstairs and take a look."

The three followed James up the stairs. The wooden stairs creaked and groaned, as if telling the story of the hotel's long history.

Reaching the end of the third floor, James opened the sealed room. A faint smell of blood could be detected. Everything in the room remained exactly as it was at the time of the crime, as if time had stood still.