"Is it really you?" Grace Johnson asked with a hint of suspicion, "Then what was your reason for killing Samuel Clark? There must be a motive for murder, right?"

"Motive? Haha—" Sarah Walker's face twisted with rage, her features nearly contorted, "Three years ago, my younger sister was tortured to death in the Music Bureau by Samuel Clark and a group of spoiled brats!"

"She was only thirteen! I had already scraped together enough silver to redeem her! They are all beasts! Beasts who deserve to die!"

Grace Johnson's expression froze for a moment, then she lowered her gaze and gave a slight wave of her sleeve, "Take her away! Chief Sutton, send someone to escort them to the Six Paths Division as soon as possible. In addition, assign a few capable people to search this Miss Walker's boudoir with me."

Sarah Walker let out a bitter laugh, allowing several constables to fasten chains around her. Just as she was being escorted out the door, Henry Thompson suddenly called out, "Wait."

He stared coldly at Sarah Walker, "I want to know, why did Miss Walker frame me? I have no enmity with you."

"It was a spur-of-the-moment decision. I happened to see you in conflict with him, and I was there."

Sarah Walker didn't even glance back at Henry Thompson, continuing to stride out, while Henry Thompson frowned, his expression dark.

At that very moment, on the fourth floor of the Moon-Gazing Pavilion, a graceful figure stepped into Sarah Walker's residence, 'Poetic Abode'.

Strangely enough, although there were officers guarding the fourth-floor corridor, they seemed completely unaware of her presence.

The woman first swept her gaze around the room, then fixed her eyes on a bronze mirror. As she raised her sleeve and brushed it, the previously smooth and empty surface suddenly ignited with ghostly flames, revealing a line of words—Your wish is fulfilled, my hatred remains.

"Idiot!"

The woman sneered coldly and walked toward the window facing the river. As she stepped out onto the windowsill and leapt down onto a fishing boat on the river, the eight characters on the mirror vanished completely, leaving no trace behind.

Chapter Seven: Hot-Blooded Youth

Henry Thompson and Grace Johnson spent more than half an hour busy in the Moon-Gazing Pavilion before finally boarding a carriage back to the Vermilion Bird Hall of the Six Paths Division.

Grace Johnson was clearly in a bad mood. She rested her chin on one hand, staring blankly out the window; Henry Thompson was deep in thought, pondering two things. First, the major case on the river—he had already asked Grace Johnson about it, but his superior didn't know the details for now. Second, Edward Sutton—he couldn't understand why this person was targeting him.

As Henry Thompson was lost in thought, Grace Johnson suddenly reached out and flicked his forehead, "What are you thinking about?! I'm talking to you, didn't you hear me?"

"Huh?" Henry Thompson looked up, only to find Grace Johnson across from him, watching him curiously.

He immediately pushed aside all distractions, sat up straight, and cupped his hands in a respectful salute, "I was thinking about the case, so I got distracted. May I ask what you wish to inquire about, my lord?"

"I'm asking what you think about the case involving Miss Walker's younger sister."

Grace Johnson's eyes, usually as clear as autumn water, now brimmed with a chilling murderous intent, "I've already had the records checked—Sarah Walker wasn't lying. Three girls, all under fourteen, were tortured to death by a group of young masters. They really are a bunch of animals!"

Henry Thompson pondered for a moment, then spoke honestly, "The case is already closed. If the Commandant wants to overturn it, you'll offend a lot of people. If you simply pity Sarah Walker, just make sure she doesn't fall into others' hands—that alone shows your compassion. But if you insist on overturning the old case for those girls who died so tragically, then I am willing to do my utmost!"

After all, Henry Thompson was a newcomer to society, having graduated only two years ago, and still full of youthful passion. So those last four words, "do my utmost," he said with extra firmness.

Upon hearing this, Grace Johnson looked at him with a hint of surprise, "Oh, I really didn't expect you to have such a strong sense of justice. I was just asking your opinion, but you actually want to reopen this old case."

But then she put on a stern face, "I remember the duty roster—yesterday you were supposed to be on night duty with Charles Harris, right? Henry Thompson, you sure are bold, sneaking off to spend the night at a brothel."

Henry Thompson immediately felt his scalp tingle and broke out in a cold sweat. He had thought Grace Johnson had forgotten about that.

When the two returned to the Vermilion Bird Hall, Edward Sutton had already brought all the suspects over.

But the situation became awkward—Vermilion Bird Hall was completely deserted, and Grace Johnson couldn't even find enough people to hold a proper trial.

The two could only file a record of the case and send Sarah Walker and the other two to the prison in the rear courtyard, postponing the trial.

While Henry Thompson was busy writing up the case files, a young man about his age hurried in from the front courtyard.

"John Thompson?" Henry Thompson looked over in surprise.

He was the original's personal attendant, the most trusted and favored servant. Not only was he of reliable background and tactful, but he was also skilled in martial arts.

But at this moment, he looked pale and drenched in sweat.

"Young master, something has happened at home. An urgent decree has arrived from the capital, rebuking the Marquis for neglecting his duties, stripping him of his post as Admiral of the Navy, and ordering both the Marquis and the heir to remain at home under investigation."