Unable to repay my student loans, I had no choice but to work part-time as a demon hunter.

Chapter 97 The Great Investigation

The dance music stopped abruptly.

She glanced around. Under the crystal chandelier, women in silk evening gowns leaned back on velvet sofas, while several gentlemen released their dance partners in surprise, their hands still in awkward positions.

"Ahhhhhh!" a wealthy woman screamed.

"They're here to check!" the waiter shouted.

"Help!" Someone turned and ran.

Martin, Gordon, and the large contingent of patrol officers stepped inside.

"Everyone stop." Martin showed the search warrant. "Stand still with your hands visible."

"Do you know who I am?" A gentleman suddenly stood up.

"I don't know, and I don't need to know." Martin's expression remained unchanged as he continued gesturing.

The patrol officers quickly stormed the first and second floors and took control of them.

At first, the manager of Green Shade Mansion thought it was a routine inspection and tried to let the band continue playing, while arranging for a few guests who couldn't show their faces to leave through a side door, and to warn the underground casino to be careful.

As a result, the band members were quickly arrested by patrol officers. When the guests opened the side door, they found several officers with batons rushing in. Some people chose to jump out of the window, but as soon as they landed in the flower bed, they were punished with several sticks and then dragged away face down.

The singers and dancers in the mansion gathered together as Gordon had wished. They put on their clothes, knelt down with their heads in their hands, and exchanged nervous glances.

They registered each of their faces, and further investigations will be conducted later.

Every room upstairs was kicked open, screams filled the air, and many people will likely be traumatized for life, losing some function whenever they hear the sound of doors being kicked open.

Eileen, the doctor from the mansion, or Olivia have not yet been found.

"This is the entrance to the underground casino." Shirin ran over, pointing to a downward staircase, eager to try it out.

"Let's go." Gordon led them inside.

A group of security guards were blocking the entrance to the casino.

They were clearly not prepared to cooperate with the investigation, pulling out short sticks and daggers. One of them was nearly two meters tall with shoulders as wide as double doors, and he struck his palm with an iron rod.

"Is the police station deserted? They sent a shorty and an idiot to collect the debt?" The burly man glared at Gordon and his group. "Come any closer, and I'll break your legs!"

"If you come any closer, I'll shoot!" Shirin threatened.

The big man clearly didn't believe that the short, baby-faced police officer would dare to make a move.

He charged forward suddenly, his weight shaking the entire corridor, ready to swing his club, planning to knock Gordon down and then kick Shireen away.

"Don't rush, watch me." Gordon blocked Shirley's way. Tonight, they need a lot of live people, not necessarily a lot of corpses.

Golden Precision Calculation.

The stride is approximately 1.2 meters, the sprint speed is 4 meters per second, and the center of gravity is slightly forward.

Gordon raised his hand. He could dodge even Vera's punch, so he wouldn't consider this charge an accident.

A divine thread swept across the ground, wrapping around the big man's legs. He couldn't move his feet, but his upper body moved forward at full speed.

Boom!

He instantly felt his legs go numb, then his head slammed heavily to the ground, his nose broke on the spot, and teeth and blood spurted out. Just as the big man was about to lift his head, Gordon stomped his head back to the ground, his eyes rolled back, and he lost consciousness.

The whole process took less than two seconds.

The corridor was quiet for a moment.

"Kill him!"

"superior!"

"Awooo!" Several thugs roared and pounced.

Gordon released extended lines, which entangled the others one by one, forming a net that was difficult to see with the naked eye.

They kept walking forward, unaware that the thin thread had formed an invisible noose on the ground. The further they ran, the tighter it became, colliding with each other as if they had all forgotten how to walk at the same time.

"Who hit me!"

"Ah ah"

"What happened?"

Gordon flicked his fingers slightly, tightening, relaxing, and changing direction.

They struggled desperately, but the more they struggled, the tighter the constriction became, causing them to completely lose their balance and become unable to move.

"Waaah!"

"Help----"

"Who else wants to uphold the corporate culture of Green Mansion?" Gordon stepped over these people and retracted the thin line.

They struggled desperately but couldn't escape, only able to watch in terror as the patrol officers pounced on them like wolves. The officers quickly caught up, striking them thirteen times in a second, and subdued them all.

"Oh dear." Shirley quickly caught up with Gordon. "It's done in no time."

"It happens all the time." Gordon pushed open the door, revealing the brightly lit casino.

As is often the case, Shireen started learning Gordon's catchphrase and wrote it down in her notebook.

Heat waves and smoke billowed out, gas lamps burned along the dome, and the roulette table was covered with dark green cloth.

The waitress, barely dressed, carried champagne across the gambling table, the silver bells on her ankles jingling softly, a reminder to the guests to continue making mistakes.

The tranquility was shattered in the next second.

"Lundnium Police Station! Stop!" Shirin shouted.

"All gamblers must register their identities and may not leave without permission," Martin's voice approached.

Police officers subsequently stormed in, arrested the casino manager, and brought the situation under control.

"Quick, quick, quick!" Shirin ran around, taking over everything.

Gordon listened for clues in his surroundings.

Deep inside the casino is a large door, behind which is a carpeted private staircase that curves upwards to a private suite.

As he stepped inside, a sweet fragrance wafted towards him, making him want to completely relax.

Is this Olivia's room? Gordon looked around.

The room had no windows, the walls were covered with dark green silk, and lamps were lit in the four corners. Judging from the smell, it must have been made of whale oil.

[Mermaid statue. The embrace is very gentle, the tail is tightly wrapped around the body.]

[A sitz bath. It doesn't seem to be used for washing hands.]

[A terrifying oil painting. It provided inspiration for nightmares.]

There are many mermaid sculptures, or "sea monsters", placed around the area. Some are holding babies, some are wrapped with fish tails around shipwreck models, and some are lying on their backs in huge seashells.

Above the bed was an oil painting, which must have been custom-made. In the painting, a woman was slowly sinking into the sea, holding a fetus whose face was not clearly visible.

Olivia seems to have a particular fondness for the imagery of mermaids and the sea.

Gordon opened the desk drawer, which contained many files recording information about the guests at the mansion.

He saw his own name.

Gordon Vick's file.

He silently opened it, wondering how Olivia had kept her records.

"Gordon Vick, a sophomore at the Royal College of Natural Sciences, a student of Professor Winslow, the originator of the Blackwater Syndrome, and a trainee investigator."

Accurate.

"Speculation 1: This person possesses some kind of discernment ability and has excellent insight; the activation conditions are unclear. Countermeasure: Avoid revealing too much of your own presence and end the battle quickly."

reasonable.

"Hypothesis 2: This person exhibits a strong desire for wealth and is clearly heavily indebted. Countermeasure: Cut off his sources of income, create continuous financial pressure, and force him to make the wrong choice."

This intelligence is at least one version behind.

"Speculation 3: This person possesses a passive ability that makes young women lower their guard, increase their tolerance, and develop a preference for him."

Countermeasure: Do not allow any female believer to approach him alone or be in a room with him.

Gordon stared at the third speculation, which was clearly a terrible slander! It was obviously biased.

Next, he saw many contingency plans that Olivia had tailored for Gordon and those around him.

Regarding Charlotte, she has learned that Earl Montfort is ordering Source Material and plans to plunder it once it arrives in Lundenim.

The plan was to attack Professor Winslow during his commute, ensuring he was seriously injured but not killed, requiring long-term care, thus tying down Gordon's time and judgment.

The plan is to monitor Knight Road 9 and launch a large-scale attack using demons, specifically targeting Gordon himself.

These plans were written in great detail, as if they had arranged Gordon's fate in advance.

Gordon's face darkened.

This person has already found a way to die.

He was looking for things that were closest to Olivia, most of the things in the room that Olivia merely owned, not that she was connected to.

Gordon's gaze finally settled on a silver hair comb on the dressing table.

A few strands of hair are tangled between the comb teeth, the edges of the handle are slightly worn from long-term use, and the surface of the mother-of-pearl has a slight sheen, representing spirituality.

Gordon activated his senses, and a thread emerged from the end of the comb. After a slight hesitation, it resolutely extended downwards.

Olivia had used it for a long time; she had become accustomed to it, and it carried her personal scent—that's what makes a strong connection.

Gordon surveyed his surroundings again and quickly uncovered the mansion's deeper secrets.

Gordon took the evidence back to Martin and demanded that he immediately increase the protection of Charlotte, Winslow, and others.

Martin flipped through the file; the plan was detailed enough that the threat had been established.

"Okay," Martin said simply. "Tonight we will follow the clues to find the relevant personnel. Those who can be controlled will be controlled immediately, and those who cannot be controlled for the time being will be monitored. The Earl of Montfort and the Royal Academy of Sciences will be alerted within half an hour."

"As soon as possible." Gordon nodded.

He then led the patrol officers to continue inspecting Olivia's bedroom.

Gordon examined the surrounding area for signs, but finding no cane, he could only tap around with his hands.

A deep, muffled thud came from most places, but a long echo still lingered behind the mermaid painting.

This is a————

Entrance.

Gordon forcefully pushed aside the mermaid painting, revealing a bronze turntable. After the turntable twisted, the entire wall panel began to move, and cold, damp air rushed out from it.

A huge entrance appeared before them, with stairs spiraling downwards.

Gordon listened silently. Below, he heard footsteps, more dangerous enemies, and turbulent currents—the movement and convergence of water.

"We must proceed with caution." Martin did not immediately order the entry.

Martin quickly instructed the patrolmen to bring supplies from the wagons outside, calculate their value, and distribute them.

Gordon received a set of silver halide bombs, a packet of sobering salts, and two bottles of regeneration solution. It seems Martin has already identified the area below as a bigger problem.

"I'm going downstairs now." Shirin walked quickly downstairs.

"Slow down." Gordon continued to monitor her movements.

She descended the spiral staircase, her figure quickly swallowed by the darkness, and the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance.

Ten meters, twenty meters —

Then, footsteps suddenly appeared in front of them.

Gordon looked up and saw Shirin standing at the entrance again.

She remained in the posture of walking down the stairs, but after taking one step, she found herself back on the first step, facing Gordon, Martin, and the patrolmen.

"I—" she turned around, "went to the wrong place? I've been clearly going downhill the whole time—"