The Cycle of Fate

Chapter 120: Patience

Lumian sat at the alley across from the parliamentary office, blending in with a group of homeless people. Through his tracking and observation, he had pieced together the overall situation: someone in the parliamentary office had privately instructed a trusted police officer to monitor cases of deaths caused by strange illnesses within his jurisdiction, suppressing reports to the official Extraordinary authorities. Any evidence was then delivered to the parliamentary office.

This also meant that the sickly young man who had spit into the handkerchief and discarded it knew full well what consequences his actions would cause. Otherwise, without mentioning it, the person from the parliamentary office wouldn't have enlisted the help of someone at the police headquarters.

Lumian stared at the yellow four-story building, his hands clenched into fists at some point, though he restrained himself from any rash actions.

After a while, he exhaled slowly.

At that moment, he saw a somewhat familiar figure step out from the building. The man wore a half-top silk hat, held a dark-colored walking stick, and was dressed in a neat black suit. His face sported thick brown sideburns and a beard, and his deep blue, almost black eyes had a few wrinkles around them.

It was Bono, the owner of Goodwell Chemical Factory. Last night, the leader of the Savoie Party, Gardner Martin, had left the celebratory banquet early, and Bono's photos occasionally appeared in news articles.

Lumian withdrew his gaze and waited a while longer. When the Chief Inspector finally left the parliamentary office and headed back to the police headquarters, Lumian rose from the alley and casually found a café to have a simple, late breakfast.

Close to 11 a.m., he knocked on Franca's door again.

"How did it go? Did the official Extraordinary take over?" Franca had already gotten up and was wearing her favorite white blouse and light-colored trousers.

Lumian shook his head. "No."

He explained further as he entered the apartment, detailing everything from the police inspecting the scene to the Chief Inspector's visit to the parliamentary office.

Franca looked into his eyes, then after a few seconds of thought, said, "I know you're frustrated, probably a little angry. I understand that. Even though that couple had nothing to do with you, you still tried to save them. Failing in that, most people would feel sympathy in the face of such tragedy.

"But I have to tell you—be patient. Be patient, and then be more patient. You can't act rashly or take extreme measures in retaliation. These are people close to a parliamentarian. If something goes wrong, it'll be a big deal, way beyond what either of us can handle."

Seeing that Lumian didn't argue or show any other emotions, Franca secretly sighed in relief. "As I've said before, the best course of action is to let the official Extraordinary handle it. I'll inform them about the case through my own channels, pointing out the suspect and describing his characteristics.

"By now, though, the important evidence has probably been destroyed, and the bodies likely fast-tracked for cremation. But as long as the authorities know there's an unregistered supernatural power in the area and keep an eye on the person I divined, they'll eventually uncover the truth."

Hearing this, Lumian slowly nodded. "Let's go with that."

Franca relaxed and thought for a moment. "I'll keep the details vague, just mentioning a strange disease causing severe body decay in the market district, possibly linked to a handkerchief from someone in the parliamentary office. And that the police headquarters is suppressing related cases.