In the name of the true god

As the area with the most diverse and mobile population, the dock area has consistently ranked second to last in terms of security among all districts of the royal capital, Montorua.

Therefore, even though the Pier District Police Station operates 24 hours a day, it is still somewhat overwhelmed.

"Don't push! Speak one at a time! Those who want to cut in line, get to the back!"

"Hey you over there, you dare to start a fight in the police station?! You really think we can't control you?!"

"Your things were stolen in the slums, so go to the slum police station! What? They say the thieves were from the docks? Where's the evidence? You have the nerve to pass the buck without proof?!"

Citizens continued to pour into the reception hall, and the police officers in charge of receiving them listened to the barrage of questions and shouted as they tried their best to maintain order.

Seeing that some of the officers were almost hoarse, Jude gradually understood why their attitude was so bad and perfunctory.

When you're in a high-pressure environment that's constantly tiring, it's not easy to keep your mind from getting agitated.

Instead of blaming them, we should try to find the real root of the problem.

He patiently waited in line, confirming that Stefan Nolan was not among the officers who were receiving him, before going up to the second floor to continue his search.

The second floor of the police station is the detectives' common office area, and unauthorized personnel are usually prohibited from entering.

Jude knew that the less legitimate his reason, the less he should act furtively and give away his guilty conscience. So he openly showed his prison guard badge and said that he was there to see Stefan Nolan about something.

Seeing that he acted naturally and that his identification was genuine, the detectives in the office did not suspect him at all. They even kindly pointed to the sheriff's office and told him that Stefan Nolan was inside.

Jude walked a few steps toward the sheriff's office, which had its door tightly shut and blinds drawn, and could faintly hear reprimands coming from inside.

"Don't give me that nonsense! I need efficiency! Efficiency! Efficiency!! Others can solve a dozen cases a week! You take on a lot of cases, but you can't solve even one every ten days or half a month! If everyone were like you, would I still be able to keep my job as sheriff? Would the dock area police station still be able to operate?!"

"They solve cases quickly because they don't investigate many things seriously and are used to being perfunctory. I solve cases slowly because I want the cases I take on to have a clear and transparent outcome, so that I can live up to the trust of the victims, not let the criminals go unpunished, and never create wrongful convictions."

"You're so stubborn! You think too highly of yourself! Take that theft case you're handling, for example. It was originally just a matter of a few dozen grams of gold, but it's taken so long. Is it worth it?"

"A few dozen gold coins may be a small amount of money for you, but for the victim's family, it represents more than half a month's living expenses."

"Heh, you're so responsible, but if you can't get any results, shouldn't you just pay them out of your own pocket? Otherwise, how can you live up to their trust?"

"It's been padded."

"You... I really don't know what to say to you. This is your last warning: if your case-solving rate is still at the bottom this month, dragging the entire police station down, then pack your bags and get out!"

"Sheriff, if I'm fired this month, I shouldn't have to return the six months' salary I've received in advance, right?"

"What do you think? Get lost!"

The detectives in the office area seemed used to this scene, each busy with their own tasks, too lazy to even look up.

Jude clicked his tongue in amazement as he glanced at the overall crime-solving rate for September posted outside the sheriff's office.

Stefan Nolan took on 15 cases and solved 2, ranking last with a clearance rate of approximately 13%.

Other detectives have a case-solving rate of at least 60%.

Jude had no concept of the crime-solving rate in his previous life or this life. However, considering that there were no effective investigative methods such as surveillance, fingerprints, and DNA in the other world, and that even reporting a crime was significantly delayed because one had to be present in person to register, he could more or less guess how much of the 60% or higher crime-solving rate was exaggerated.

In contrast, Stefan Nolan, who is meticulous in his work, strives to find a clear and thorough answer to every case. Under extremely limited conditions, it is already quite an achievement to solve two cases with high quality.

This should be a good thing.

If Stefan Nolan was as perfunctory as other detectives, prioritizing efficiency over reliability, then more than a month had passed since the dock arson incident. During that time, he must have handled dozens of cases, making it highly unlikely that he would still remember the details related to the fat wizard.

It is precisely because they are meticulous in their work that they do not allow any mistakes to be made.

Let alone a case from a month ago, even a year or two ago, would be something someone like Stefan Nolan would know by heart.

"Bang!"

The door to the sheriff's office was pushed open.

A man in his thirties, dressed in a detective uniform, with a straight posture, a high nose, deep-set eyes, a stubble beard, and messy black hair of medium length, walked out nonchalantly.

Jude peered into the office through the open door.

Only a portly middle-aged man remained in the office, pacing angrily with his hands on his hips.

So...

The person who comes out must be Stefan Nolan.

Jude smiled slightly, and as Stefan Nolan walked past him, he struck up a conversation: "Excuse me, are you Detective Stefan Nolan?"

Stefan Norlandon stopped and turned to look at Jude, who was slightly taller than him. "Yes. And you are?"

"My name is Jude Viera, and I'm a prison guard at the Royal Capital Heavy Prison," Jude introduced himself.

"Did you need something?"

"My wallet was stolen while I was taking a walk at the dock today." Jude adjusted his prepared story slightly, based on the conversation he had just overheard. "I had heard from a colleague that there is a very dedicated detective named Stefan Nolan in the local police station, so I thought I would ask you for help to see if you can get my wallet back."

"Come with me." Stefan Nolan, unfazed, led Jude to his desk. "Give me the police report."

"Ah...no."

"No?" Stefan Nolan sat at the table, sorting through the mountain of documents, and looked at Jude with surprise. "Didn't you go to the reception area on the first floor to register with the police?"

Jude explained, "There are too many people down here, and I have to go back to the prison for my shift before 7:30 p.m., so I thought I'd come directly to you."

"This isn't quite in line with procedure." Stefan Nolan shook his head slightly, hesitated for a moment, then opened a drawer and pulled out a police report. "Next time, it's best to come to me with a police report."

"Understood." Jude took the police report and pen from Stefan Nolan and began to fill in the case details out of thin air.

The police report was completed quickly.

Stefan Nolan took the document and carefully examined it: "One hundred and ten gold coins are missing? That many?"

"Yes." Jude didn't think that a hundred gold coins was too much these days; he just gave a relatively reasonable amount based on his identity as a 'prison guard'.

Stefan Nolan quickly picked out two reports from a thick stack: "What time is it?"

"3:02," Jude replied after glancing at his watch.

"Let's go! To the docks! There are two cases we need to visit!" Stefan Nolan stood up decisively and walked outside.