The Countess's Body Has Disappeared - Chapter 8

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 8
The moment Davion opened the car door, white breath came pouring out.
Snow had accumulated softly on the road in the meantime. Liam followed, opening the passenger door and stepping out.
An investigator who had been waiting at the mouth of the alley saluted them.
“Captain.”
“Skip the formalities. The victims?”
As the investigator stepped back, two bodies draped in canvas shrouds came into view. Their shoe sizes made their sexes apparent.
Roughly fifteen hours had passed since the incident occurred.
Davion and Liam exchanged a silent glance. When Liam nodded, Davion took a deep breath, knelt beside the female body, and with trembling hands, drew back the shroud to see her face.
Just as the officer had said, someone had slashed the body repeatedly with a knife.
But at a glance, it was clear this was not Cecilia.
‘Ah…….’
A wave of relief washed over him, and Davion exhaled a long breath, his head drooping.
As the tension drained away, the craving for a cigarette returned. Searching for his lighter in his coat pockets, Davion gave an order to the investigator who had been conversing with Liam.
“Notify the family as soon as you’ve identified them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Davion then lifted the shroud to examine the man’s face as well. The shock was so sudden that he dropped the lit cigarette onto the snowy ground.
“One moment.”
Noticing Davion’s sudden rigidity, Liam excused himself from the investigator and sat beside him.
Davion pointed silently at the body’s face. Liam too was seized by shock, his entire frame tensing.
“Sir, this is…….”
“A snake.”
Davion covered the body again with the shroud as he spoke.
“My wife was here.”
Strange things happened all the time in East Hallow, but this was entirely unexpected. He’d never imagined Cecilia could be entangled in this affair.
Still, judging by the state of the man’s body, it appeared she’d escaped cleanly. No—scratch that. She might have been injured in her flight.
What if a bone was broken? If bullets were fired and even one found its mark…….
‘This woman isn’t even in good health…….’
The relief transformed back into dark anxiety, gnawing at Davion relentlessly. As he sat in silence, hand pressed to his brow, Liam gently gripped his shoulder and asked.
“Sir, are you all right?”
“I’m fine.”
He answered calmly, pushing away the lingering image of Cecilia.
Despair would serve no purpose in this moment. Rising to his feet, Davion produced a fresh cigarette and gestured toward the house where the women had been held.
“Let’s check inside first.”
The abduction of solitary women and their sale abroad was a chronic disease festering in Lismier society. The blood money raised this way became the lifeblood of black market dealers, but to trace this vicious cycle back to its origin, one had to go back to the years after the war.
The government had imported cheap painkillers for retired soldiers. But when the medication’s powerful addictive properties became clear only later, the drug was transformed into a backstreet profit scheme and became one of the causes of human trafficking.
Whatever had happened, the front door handle was wrenched half off.
The moment they stepped inside, a fetid reek assaulted their nostrils. Before gagging, Liam quickly wrapped a handkerchief around his nose and mouth.
“Stay close behind me.”
Holding his Revolver firmly, Davion proceeded carefully into the interior.
The investigators had confirmed the space several times already, but one could never know when complications might arise. He was a man who’d earned his captain’s rank at twenty-seven rolling through battlefields. And in battlefields, trouble always came in the moment you let your guard slip.
But as he surveyed the surroundings, Davion’s brow furrowed and he tapped the floorboards with his foot.
A hollow sound echoed back.
Sure enough, when he lifted the carpet with the tip of his shoe, a small door leading to a basement revealed itself.
“This is…….”
The investigators seemed not to have discovered the basement’s existence. While Davion kept watch, Liam crouched down, searching for the handle and muttering.
“There’s a basement? This didn’t look like the kind of structure that could be dug into…….”
“It’s been modified. To hide something that mustn’t be found.”
“Ah, got it.”
As he pulled the door upward, a narrow staircase appeared, trailing dust.
Davion descended first. The darkness was absolute—he couldn’t see an inch ahead—but he couldn’t risk lighting his lighter, not knowing what lay below.
Relying purely on instinct, he moved forward in the blackness until he reached an underground storage room where a chill hung in the air. Mercifully, a bulb hung from the ceiling.
The moment he switched it on, Davion held his breath and called back a warning to Liam, who was following.
“Cover your nose. It’s stacked.”
Dozens upon dozens of tin cans labeled “sardine” formed a towering structure. Of course, what lay inside had nothing to do with sardines at all.
The contents were obvious. Holding his breath, Liam examined the white powder scattered around the tins and spoke softly.
“There it is.”
The painkiller went by the names Lampi or White Candy.
The alias “candy” came from its sugar-like sweetness. Being a potent military-grade painkiller, exceeding the proper dose didn’t merely dull pain—it deadened the nervous system entirely.
“To have accumulated this much… we’d have faced serious trouble if we hadn’t found it.”
“Some of them have probably been moved elsewhere already. Amateurs put everything in one place—that’s how you get caught.”
Davion’s voice trailed off.
The moment light flickered off a nearby stack of cans, he shouted.
“Duck!”
Liam dropped his head instantly.
“Damn bastards!”
An Iron Rod swung from behind with full force, wrenched from the assailant’s grip, and crashed into a pile of cans. The thunderous collapse shook the basement.
Bang, bang.
Davion fired twice, swift shots at the man’s knees. As he screamed and fell, Davion pinned his waist and bound both hands.
Investigators who heard the gunfire came running down into the basement.
“Captain! Are you all right?!”
“Bring handcuffs!”
The investigators hurried down, slapped shackles on the man’s wrists, and dragged him out of the basement.
His nose was broken from the fall, his face a mess of blood. Before he could spit, Davion struck his head with a fist, then turned to the investigator with an order.
“Once you’ve confirmed his identity, lock him in my estate’s basement. I’ll interrogate him myself.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And there’s a large quantity of drugs in the basement. File your report first, and I’ll be back tomorrow with Treasury agents. Keep everyone out of this area.”
This had turned out well. If the man was part of the organization that had taken Cecilia, he might know where she was.
Davion removed his blood and dust-covered coat, tossed it into the back seat of the car, and threw his keys to Liam. Liam, catching his breath as he watched the assailant dragged away, fumbled and missed, then bent to pick the keys up from the ground.
“Should I drive this time?”
“Go to the estate first. It’s a new car—don’t scratch it anywhere while you drive.”
“Won’t you be coming with me?”
“I could use a drink alone. I’ll take a cab back. I’ll be there within the hour, so spare me the fussing.”
Since the case involved Cecilia, he needed time to think. Liam nodded and drove off ahead.
East Hallow’s outskirts were lined with old taverns that sold liquor.
Gasoline-powered automobiles roamed the roads, yet this place didn’t even use incandescent bulbs. Davion let out a bitter laugh the moment he stepped inside a tavern.
‘Places like this still exist.’
He sat at the bar, pressed a banknote into the bartender’s hand, and ordered the most popular drink.
Perhaps from lack of sleep, his eyelids grew heavy and his head ached as soon as he entered the dim space.
But as he leaned his elbows on the table and rubbed his brow, in that instant, he caught sight of a white-haired woman at the edge of his vision and jolted upright.
‘…Cecilia?’
A spare glass he’d left on the table clattered to the floor and shattered with a loud crash.
Was it a hallucination?
Davion couldn’t believe what his eyes were showing him.
That back of the head was far too familiar. The same build as Cecilia, the same height. Even the length of hair swaying at her waist matched.
She was climbing the stairs with a shopping basket in one hand. Cecilia’s name rose up to the tip of Davion’s tongue.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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