Early the next morning, Aidan left the inn as Matthew had instructed.
He didn't go to the Class Holder Plaza today, nor did he visit the mercenary tavern. Instead, he specifically sought out places where ordinary people gathered.
...
Matthew didn't go with him. When it came to gathering intelligence, two people moving together was more likely to attract attention. He stayed behind in the inn alone and began to organize all the information they had obtained over the past two days.
The map of the Royal Capital was spread out on the table once more, with a quill resting beside it. Matthew didn't rush to start writing. Instead, he closed his eyes and recalled every detail.
The bulletin board. The disappearances. The night patrols. The mercenaries. The black-robed figures. The City Guard. The injured man in the inn.
...
Each event seemed quite ordinary when viewed in isolation. But when placed together, they formed a faint, shimmering web.
Matthew suddenly picked up the pen and drew a thin line across the West District on the map. Then, he connected it to the Theater District, the Class Holders Guild, the inn, and finally, to the street where the black-robed figures had passed yesterday.
After finishing, Matthew himself was slightly stunned. Even though these locations didn't perfectly overlap, they were all situated in the western half of the city. It was as if something was happening there.
He remained silent for a long time before eventually erasing all the lines he had just drawn. “Not enough,” he muttered. “The evidence is too sparse.”
The greatest danger in reasoning was falling for preconceived notions. If he decided now that everything was happening in the West District, it would be easy to overlook other places later. This was the biggest taboo for an investigator.
With that thought, Matthew simply put away the map and decided not to analyze anything further for the day. Waiting was the best choice.
...
It wasn't until evening that Aidan returned, looking travel-worn. As soon as he entered the room, he downed a large glass of cold water, his face lit with excitement.
“Brother Matthew, I really found out a lot today!”
Matthew smiled and gestured for him to sit. “Tell me slowly.”
Aidan nodded and began to recount his day. “I went to four places today. First, I went to where the coachmen gather. They drive all over the Royal Capital every day and know many roads. None of them knew anything about wizards, but many of them warned me that if I didn't have urgent business at night, I should try to avoid taking passengers to the west.”
Matthew nodded without saying a word. Aidan continued.
“Later, I went to a barbershop. Those old masters are exceptionally well-informed. They said that in the past six months, quite a few people have moved out of the West District. It wasn't because they were fleeing disaster; they sold their houses and moved. When people asked why, they all said they were bored with living there, but no one believed them.”
Matthew picked up his pen and made his first note: 【West District, residents proactively moving out.】
Aidan went on. “At noon, I went to the docks. The porters there said that lately, some caravans would rather take a long detour than use the shortcut through the West District. Apparently, the roads are often sealed off at night, though no one knows why.”
Matthew wrote down another line: 【Frequent road closures at night.】
Aidan grew more confident as he spoke. “In the afternoon, I visited a wagon repair shop. The owner is an old resident of the Royal Capital. He said that when he was a child, the West District was actually quite lively. Then, at some point, people became unwilling to go there at night. Gradually, many theaters closed, and taverns became fewer. Now, almost no one goes there at night.”
Matthew’s quill suddenly paused. Theaters. It had appeared again. This was the sixth time he had heard the word. Once could be a coincidence, but six times was definitely not. However, he still didn't jump to a conclusion and simply continued recording: 【Theater District gradually declining.】
Aidan scratched his head. “There’s one more piece of news. I don’t know if it’s useful.”
“Tell me.”
“A charcoal seller told me that every month, they deliver charcoal to an abandoned clock tower in the West District. But he’s never seen the person inside. The goods are left at the door and are gone by the next morning. He said it’s been this way for over twenty years.”
Matthew finally looked up, a serious expression appearing in his eyes for the first time. “An abandoned clock tower?”
“Yeah,” Aidan nodded. “It’s right behind the Theater District. It’s a very old tower, and supposedly, no one has lived there for a long time.”
The room suddenly fell silent. Matthew didn't speak; he just slowly looked toward the map. Then, he picked up the quill and lightly drew a circle behind the Theater District. This time, he didn't erase it.
Matthew didn't continue writing. The quill hovered over the map for a long time before he finally set it down. He looked at the circle, his eyes showing no excitement, only growing calmer. Aidan was somewhat confused.
“Brother Matthew, is there something wrong with that clock tower?”
Matthew shook his head. “I don’t know, and I can’t be sure. However, from now on, don't deliberately ask about that place anymore.”
Aidan was taken aback. “Why?”
Matthew said slowly, “Because you’ve already asked enough today. If you continue tomorrow, people will start to remember you. A stranger asking about the same place for several days in a row is not normal, no matter where you are.”
Aidan suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. He had indeed been thinking about asking a few more elderly people tomorrow. Looking back now, it was fortunate Matthew had warned him; otherwise, it would have been easy to give himself away.
Matthew continued, “Starting today, don't hang around the West District. Change locations. Go to the East District, the outskirts of the Noble District, the markets, or even just listen to people chat in taverns. Make them feel like you’re just an outsider who likes listening to stories, rather than someone specifically investigating something.”
Aidan took the advice to heart. This was Matthew’s consistent style—cautious, always keeping himself hidden in the crowd.
...
Afterward, Matthew reorganized all the information from today.
Residents moving out of the West District. Night road closures. The decline of the Theater District. High-paying night patrol missions. Missing mercenaries. The injured man in the inn. The abandoned clock tower.
None of these things had any direct connection to one another, yet they all occurred in the same area. If it was just a coincidence, there were far too many of them. However, Matthew still wasn't prepared to go there. He was only at the Black Iron Rank. Even if he knew there was a secret, what could he do? Go there to die?
Thinking of this, Matthew suddenly smiled. In the novels he read in his previous life, many protagonists would immediately investigate at night as soon as they found a clue, resulting in all sorts of fortuitous encounters. But having actually come to this world, he realized that those who lived long were usually those who could restrain their curiosity. Secrets wouldn't run away, but you only had one life.
...
The next day, Aidan followed the plan and avoided the West District, going instead to the trade market in the east. When he returned in the evening, he brought back more fragmented news.
“Brother Matthew, I didn't hear any urban legends today. But a caravan owner said that many nobles have recently started buying something at high prices.”
“What is it?”
“Fresh blood.” Aidan hurried to explain. “Not human blood. It’s magical beast blood. They want all kinds of magical beasts, and the price has risen by nearly thirty percent.”
Matthew’s brow furrowed slightly. “Anything else?”
“Yes. Apothecary shops have been short on Silver Moon Grass lately. According to an owner, it’s been out of stock for half a month. A lot of people are buying it up.”
Matthew didn't react immediately, but silently noted the two pieces of information: 【Price of magical beast blood rising.】 【Massive procurement of Silver Moon Grass.】
Aidan continued, “Also, I heard a potioneer apprentice say that the number of injured people in the Royal Capital has increased lately. Recovery potions are selling very quickly. But as for why exactly, no one knows.”
Matthew nodded slightly. These pieces of news were ordinary on their own, but when combined, things started to get interesting. Just then, his gaze suddenly lingered on the words “Silver Moon Grass.”
The contents of a basic potion book slowly surfaced in his mind. Silver Moon Grass... it was a material for many recovery potions, but it was also... an auxiliary material for making purification potions.
At this thought, Matthew narrowed his eyes. If the rise in recovery potion sales could be explained by an increase in injuries among Class holders, then... why were the materials for purification potions also being consumed in large quantities? Who was using purification potions? And what were they purifying?
Matthew frowned slightly but didn't overthink it. He didn't jump to a conclusion immediately. Instead, he used his quill to draw a line after the words “Silver Moon Grass” and wrote two words: 【Uncertain.】
He knew very well that the biggest mistake in an investigation was forcibly connecting two unrelated events. The popularity of recovery potions might just be due to a recent increase in missions. The price hike of Silver Moon Grass might just be because a certain alchemy master needed to brew a large batch of medicine. For now, the evidence was far from enough.
Thinking of this, Matthew set down his quill and looked at Aidan. “Anything else?”
Aidan thought for a moment and suddenly slapped his forehead. “Right! There’s one more small thing. I don’t know if it’s related.”
Matthew nodded. “Speak.”
Aidan recalled the memory. “This afternoon, while I was buying rations at the materials market, two potioneer apprentices were chatting nearby. One was complaining, ‘Lately, the teacher has us brewing purification potions every day. I’m exhausted.’ The other one asked, ‘Aren't recovery potions selling the best? Why keep brewing purification potions?’ The first one immediately shut up. Later, when their teacher came out, he even glared at them. Neither of them dared to say another word.”
Matthew’s movements suddenly stopped. If the price hike of Silver Moon Grass could be explained as a coincidence, then now, purification potions had appeared for the second time. This was worth noting. However, he still didn't show any emotion and simply nodded calmly. “I see.”
Aidan continued, “Also, that teacher seemed to say something else.”
“What was it?”
“‘If the potions aren't enough, go to the association to apply for more. This batch must be delivered before the end of the month.’”
The association? Matthew’s eyes flickered. The Alchemists Association? The Apothecaries Association? Or... some other association? He didn't rush to guess and instead wrote down another record: 【A certain association is purchasing purification potions in bulk.】
...
The night grew deeper. After Aidan left, Matthew was once again alone in the room. Beside the map on the table lay several thick pages of records. These were the pieces of information gathered in just a few days since arriving in the Royal Capital.
Matthew didn't continue organizing. Instead, he stood up and walked to the window. Tonight, he didn't pull back the curtains but looked through a gap to quietly observe the street.
The Royal Capital was still brightly lit, but he noticed that after nine o'clock at night, the number of Class holders on the street clearly began to increase. They mostly moved in groups of two or three, while ordinary residents rarely appeared. The number of patrol squads was also nearly double that of the daytime.
Most importantly, Matthew noticed something he hadn't paid attention to yesterday. At regular intervals along the street stood black iron pillars over two meters tall. A fist-sized magic crystal was embedded at the top of each pillar. During the day, they were just for lighting, but at night, those crystals would slowly emit a faint silver-white glow.
That light wasn't dazzling; it was even quite soft. Yet Matthew vaguely felt a very comfortable sensation when his Spirit drew near, as if his entire being had become much clearer.
“A magic circle?” Matthew murmured to himself. He had been so focused on people yesterday that he had actually overlooked these things. Now that he thought back carefully, from the moment they entered the Royal Capital, there was one such iron pillar almost every few dozen meters. Moreover, they were arranged very regularly, as if... they formed a massive net covering the entire Royal Capital.
With that thought, Matthew’s gaze slowly turned toward the distance, extending all the way to the West District. But there, a large area was noticeably dimmer. It wasn't that there were no lights, but... the number of iron pillars was significantly lower.
A look of thoughtfulness flashed in Matthew’s eyes. If these iron pillars were more than just for lighting, then the reduction of pillars in the West District... would that mean that place was the weakest part of this “net”?
As soon as the thought arose, Matthew shook his head. Again, not enough evidence. But he silently made a note of this discovery, because his intuition told him that these magic crystal iron pillars spread throughout the Royal Capital were definitely not as simple as streetlights.
...
...
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