Chapter 100: Blood Crow!

The crowd was stunned, all eyes turning to the source of the voice.

Gawain stepped out of the shadows and into the lamplight, wearing a faint smile, as if an actor taking center stage.

"Gawain Winchester?!"

Several people in the crowd recognized him and gasped in surprise. Among them were Shuster and Ann, the two police officers who had just met Gawain, and they were particularly astonished.

Shuster scratched his head, his face full of curiosity.

"Mr. Winchester, is there something you need?" the officer asked kindly.

Ann, meanwhile, stared at Gawain, deep in thought.

"Yes, just a little something," Gawain replied with a nod. He glanced at Ann, noting that the battle-hardened policewoman was far more perceptive than Shuster and the others. Given a bit more time, she might have uncovered something suspicious.

Of course, she might have found nothing at all.

But that had nothing to do with Gawain. They weren’t close, and he had no reason to guide her.

The reason he stepped forward was simply to fulfill his main quest: [Become a recognized folklorist within three months].

Gawain’s gaze fell on a boy in the crowd.

The boy had a youthful face, dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and trousers resembling a school uniform, just like the other students around him. The only difference was that his sleeves were neatly buttoned down, not rolled up.

"You're the murderer, aren't you?" Gawain asked with a smile. Though phrased as a question, his tone left no room for doubt.

"Winchester, what nonsense are you talking about? How could I possibly be a killer?" the boy shouted, his heartbeat growing louder and more frantic, like a drum in Gawain's ears.

After surpassing normal human physical abilities fourfold, Gawain had come to enjoy using his enhanced senses to "solve crimes." He no longer needed to search for clues like a traditional detective. Instead, he could simply stand there, listening for abnormal heartbeats and observing unusual behavior.

While this method wasn't foolproof—he couldn't detect anything off about the owner of the Pinecone Hotel, whose heartbeat remained perfectly normal throughout their encounter—it was effective in most cases.

And just now, that's exactly what Gawain had done.

The culprit lacked the self-control of the Pinecone Hotel owner. Gawain had simply stood in a secluded spot, scanning the crowd until he found the one person who stood out. After careful observation, he had confirmed the boy was the killer.

"You're slandering me!" the boy screamed, hysteria creeping into his voice. His outburst drew the attention of the surrounding officers, causing him to panic even more.

"You say I killed someone? Where’s your evidence? If you don't have any, you're just slandering me!" he yelled, clearly losing his composure.

In truth, the boy had done a decent job of hiding his emotions earlier, keeping his face calm and blending into the crowd, fooling the questioning officers. But once Gawain called him out, his nerves got the better of him.

Gawain had no intention of continuing the argument.

"Aren't you hot?" Gawain asked, his eyes drifting to the boy's unrolled sleeves.

Ann, who had been observing Gawain closely, immediately rushed over to inspect the boy’s sleeves. But the boy resisted, pulling a box cutter from his pocket.

"Stay back!" he shouted.

But it was useless. Ann swiftly kicked his wrist, sending the box cutter clattering to the ground. In the same motion, she flipped the boy over her shoulder, pinning him to the ground and rolling up his sleeves.

Two clear scratch marks were revealed for all to see.

"Check Lise’s fingernails!" Ann shouted.

"And not just Lise's, but Laura’s as well," Gawain added.

As everyone’s attention shifted back to Gawain, he smiled.

"In the same place, within a short time, two 'suicides' occurred. You didn’t think they were unrelated, did you?"

Suddenly, everything clicked for the officers.

They sprang into action, and it wasn’t long before the results came in.

The scratches were indeed left by Laura.

Pinned to the ground, the boy lifted his head and shouted defiantly—

"I liked Laura! What’s wrong with that? I had Lise bring her to the rooftop so I could confess my feelings, but she had the nerve to reject me, to fight back! I accidentally pushed her off!"

"And that bitch Lise! She tried to blackmail me, to threaten me! So I pushed her off too! What’s wrong with that?"

"I didn’t do anything wrong!"

The words spoken caused everyone around to frown.

The female officer, Ann, displayed undisguised disgust on her face.

"Liking someone doesn't mean you can force them!"

"You've broken the law!"

"You will be severely punished!"

Ann's stern voice echoed.

"Punished?

Hahaha!

My father is a city councilman!

I'm still a minor!

Nothing will happen to me!"

The boy laughed loudly, prompting the people around to express their disapproval.

As for Goethe? His expression turned cold instantly.

He stepped in front of the boy, towering over him, looking down as if gazing at a worm.

"Do you know why I know you killed someone?" Goethe asked.

"Why?" The boy stopped laughing, looking at Goethe in confusion.

He was confident that he had done everything perfectly, making it impossible for anyone to find out, especially not so quickly.

"She told me." Goethe pointed toward the tent-covered body in the distance.

The boy was stunned for a moment, then burst into laughter again.

"A dead person told you?

You're lying!

You just got lucky and found out it was me!

Damn it!

I was too careless!"

The boy said angrily.

Goethe, watching the murderer’s reaction, simply smiled.

"Oh?

Why can't the dead tell me it was you who killed her? As a 'folklore scholar,' I'm quite serious."

"By the way, have you heard of the 'Blood Crow'?"

Goethe smiled warmly at him.

"Blood Crow?"

"Yes, the 'Blood Crow'—a specter formed from the souls of young girls who were wrongfully killed. They appear in the form of crows, devouring the eyes and hearts of those who harmed them. Their black feathers are stained with blood, which is why I call them 'Blood Crows.'"

Without giving the boy a chance to respond, Goethe turned and walked away.

"Liar!

Who would believe your nonsense?

Just wait!

When I get out, I won't let you go!

I'll be out soon enough!"

The murderer shouted.

But Goethe coldly thought to himself, You won't get the chance.

As Goethe's figure disappeared into the night, Ann's eyes showed a hint of confusion.

Just a moment ago, she felt a surge of killing intent from Goethe.

And something else...

A very familiar aura.

It was the aura of someone tempered by blood and fire.

Did Goethe Winchester go to war? 

This thought crossed Ann's mind, but she quickly shook her head. When she went to question Goethe that afternoon, she had already reviewed his files.

He had never truly left this city since birth, let alone gone to war.

And his age!

An 18-year-old boy going to war?

Was it some summer job?

Impossible!

Maybe I was mistaken?

Dismissing the notion, Ann signaled to her partner.

Regardless of whether her feelings were right or wrong, Ann would not let Goethe face danger alone.

Someone as just and brave as Goethe shouldn't be harmed.

At the very least, she wouldn’t allow it.

Shuster immediately understood and nodded, quickly following after Goethe.

A staged suicide covering a murder case had ended.

The students and faculty at Green High were still abuzz with discussions.

But soon, the students erupted into cheers.

Because of the murder, Green High was closed for a day.

And the missed day wouldn’t be made up on the weekend.

This news brought a smile to even the most sorrowful students.

*Ah, young people, where would they find sorrow?

Life and death seem like games to them.

When the game ends? It’s just a matter of starting over.*

*Whether they succeed or fail, they always have a chance to try again.

They are fearless.

They run forward under the sun.*

But some?

They are different!

The darkness that breeds sin turns them into demons in human skin. They act recklessly, without any regard for consequences.

Because they know they have...

Absolute advantage!

Barry thought so.

Even now, in the police station's cell, with two iron bars in front of him, and a toilet and ventilation window behind him.

"Where's the bed?

I'm going to sue you for abuse!"

Barry shouted.

Ann's response was to hit him in the stomach with her baton.

Bam!

Barry immediately clutched his stomach and fell to his knees.

But he raised his head, shouting even louder.

"You're finished!

I'll tell my father, and he'll have you suspended!"

Ann ignored his shouting.

She merely glanced at him with disgust before walking out.

Outside, a police officer spoke in a low voice.

"Be careful.

That guy’s father has already brought a lawyer.

He might be bailed out."

"Bailed out?" Ann's tone grew sharper.

"He's a minor, his family can afford a lawyer, and they can pay bail—by law, he can be released."

The officer sighed helplessly.

"He killed someone!

Two people!" Ann emphasized.

"Even if he killed the president, as long as his family hires a top lawyer, he could be acquitted."

The officer's tone was even more resigned.

"F*k! S*t!" Ann cursed, her breathing becoming rapid with anger.

She threw her baton to the ground in frustration, speaking angrily.

"I really hope the 'Blood Crow' is real now!

It should take him and his father together!

Anyone with a son like that can't be a good person either!"

The older officer sympathetically patted Ann's shoulder. After picking up her baton, he whispered.

"Of course, he's not a good person!

Remember the hit-and-run that killed a mother and daughter last year?

It was that guy, but the judge ruled him innocent—because two hours before the accident, his car was stolen!"

"And then some idiot who couldn’t tell the difference between the brake and the gas pedal confessed!"

"If the 'Blood Crow' were real, I’d hope that guy would get what he deserves!"

The older officer sighed, then muttered in a low voice that only he could hear.

"Too bad...

The 'Blood Crow' isn't real."

(End of the Chapter)