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Of course, such remarks could not be made recklessly, after all, the other party was also a well-known Noble, and Malin had been in this world for less than half a year. To be honest, he had not yet truly witnessed what it ant to be a Noble, nor did he know what the relationship between the Nobility and the Church truly entailed. With the thought of not wanting to cause trouble for Colin and the others, Malin decided to take a different angle and complicate this simple question, "Your Excellency."

Mr. Mischael, who was wiping tears with a handkerchief, found Malin's greeting sowhat strange. He put down the handkerchief, "Little Priest, is there sothing you want to ask?"

"This is my first ti eting a real Noble, may I ask what your title is?" Malin asked with a genuine smile.

"Viscount, my family's estate is in the East of Carterburg, and my ancestor was one of the thirty brave n of Carterburg," the man said with a proud smile on his face when ntioning his ancestor, but it was soon replaced by sorrow, "But what does all this have to do with my wife?"

"Of course, how much inco does your estate generate each year?" Malin, feeling that his question was sowhat inappropriate, quickly added, "Because I think that if the whole motive was for money, then the kidnapper must understand your identity and inco very well. Otherwise, randomly kidnapping the wife of a penniless man would make their operation costs quite high, right?"

Mr. Mischael, who had almost been angered by Malin's question, laughed a little embarrassingly after hearing Malin's explanation, "You're right, little Priest. The chief of the police and I think so too. The criminal must have known my family well to choose my wife from among so many respectable gentlen in the North District."

"Yes, Viscount, you said your ancestor was one of the thirty braves. To be singled out by the first Lord of Carterburg, even a one-thirtieth chance is not high, let alone facing all the gentlen of the North District, who are all so respectable. If it's not a random cri, then the criminal must have been sure that you could pay a significant ransom for your wife," Malin brought up.

This sincere and innocent flattery was very pleasing to the Viscount, who nodded, "Yes, I would give everything for my wife." He then sighed, "Actually, after intermarriages and the dying off of lines, there are only seven families left of the thirty braves, and our lord's line bled itself dry in the last Tide of the Dead. Thus, Carterburg ultimately beca a free comrcial city..."

"By the way, sir, I've heard of insurance. Would a gentleman like you buy insurance for yourself and your wife?" Malin couldn't wait to get an answer, eagerly anticipating it.

"Hmm..." Mr. Mischael shook his head with so embarrassnt, "According to the insurance industry's conventions, as the largest and sole shareholder of Carterburg Insurance Company, my wife and I are not eligible to buy insurance."

Well, it seed he really was a man of considerable wealth, and that was indeed a very interesting piece of information.

Malin unobtrusively noted this information in his mind. Since he could rule out the possibility of insurance fraud, Malin then decided to steer the topic towards another direction he was prepared to investigate, "Based on my observation, your wife had a large open wound on her chest."

"Yes, the Priest, Colin, has already told about it, saying that you purified Camilla... I'm sorry, little Priest, I was about to misdirect my anger at you," Mr. Mischael unexpectedly confessed.

"Sir, your deep affection for your wife is clear, so I won't bla you for your montary rage," Malin turned to look at Colin, "Mr. Colin, I was wondering whether the criminal might not have planned to get a ransom from Mr. Mischael from the start, but instead, aid to find a suitable target for sacrifice."

Colin raised an eyebrow, "Why do you think that?"

"Because I don't think Mrs. Mischael would have such a wound on her chest if she was killed by kidnappers while fighting to escape," Malin said, recalling the scene. To tell the truth, even slaughtering a chicken would not be done like that, yet she was an authentic living person, "I've heard from my tutors that the followers of the Evil God always like to use young and beautiful won as living sacrifices."

"Indeed, that is a possibility, but there haven't been any significant cases of disappearances in Carterburg recently, so we haven't treated this incident as a living sacrifice event," Colin explained.

The police chief decided to step in at this mont.

Observing him, Malin fell silent for a mont—why had this man, who had been an audience from the start, suddenly jumped in to speak?

Was it because he felt that if he didn't say sothing, he would be deed negligent in his duties?

With such suspicions and doubts, Malin noticed a police officer rush in, his face full of anxiety and tension. Coming up to the chief and Colin, he said, "The search team in the Western District has just discovered a site of ritual sacrifice and found the skeletons of six victims."

```

"Malin, it seems you have the makings of a famous detective." Colin took a deep breath. "Mr. Mischael, and Chief Lau, let's go take a look, shall we?"

.........

The Western District was the most chaotic area of Carterburg, housing a large number of refugees—there were war refugees who had fled south from the North, as well as poor souls who had escaped from other countries. Together with the local poor and thugs, the various powers were interwoven like the teeth of a comb. A few deaths a day were nothing out of the ordinary. Thus, there was hardly any law enforcent in the Western District. Even when present, it was organized by the residents themselves as vigilante police, and official police patrols stuck to the main roads.

If it hadn't been for the Viscount's lady going missing, they probably would never have turned the Western District upside down.

Malin had also followed Colin to take in the sights, and it seed Colin also wanted his young apprentice to get a taste of blood. Thus, one was willing to fight, and the other was willing to endure.

As Malin followed Colin closer to the scene, he slled the strong odor of rust.

Without a doubt, it must have been the doings of the unrestrained followers of the Evil God, who else would use innocent humanoid beings as living sacrifices.

Upon entering, Malin imdiately saw the desecrated words and evil symbols written in blood. But it seed the police had their own capable Transcendent, who had already destroyed so of the symbols and painted over certain words of the desecration.

The scene had already been tampered with, but Malin felt if it hadn't been, all the mortals present would have been corrupted. So, he couldn't bla them.

The remains of Mr. Mischael's wife were quickly identified—according to Mr. Mischael, the female skeleton with the signs of regrowth from a broken tibia on the left lower leg was indeed his wife.

The ghastly state had caused the Viscount to lose the strength to stand several tis, and he had to be assisted out of the scene by the police.

"It's a classic case of a living sacrifice, but the object of the sacrifice can't be confird, unlike those of the four." After inspecting the altar, Colin said, "Who was the first to discover the scene?" he asked.

"It was I." A middle-aged police officer ca forward, and Malin quickly confird that he possessed Transcendent powers.

"When you arrived, was the altar still functional?"

"It was functional, but because it was scattered with the power of desecration, I had to dismantle it, or all my colleagues would've been dead."

"I'm not blaming you for this. I just want to know if you can confirm it was so guy."

"I can't confirm who it might have been on the other side, but considering the number of living sacrifices, we can categorize it as an event with at least six victims. There aren't many Chaos Evil Gods who require nurous offerings at once, so we can still slowly identify the culprit."

With that said, Colin didn't have any other solution. Identifying the identity of the Evil God through the clues at the scene wasn't Malin and Colin's strong suit. They could only leave it to the professionals.

After escorting Mr. Mischael onto the carriage, Colin joined Malin. "You suspect Mischael, don't you?"

"Yes, I instinctively feel there's a problem." Malin decided to trust his intuition, "Colin, even now all the evidence proves Mr. Mischael's innocence."

"If it's just a suspicion, then don't speak of it. If one day you have a strong enough chain of evidence, you can take it out and it will be enough to seal his fate, only then can you rightly produce your evidence. But not now." Colin patted Malin's head with his hand. "Alright, let's go back."

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