——Truths that must never be known, borders that must never be crossed by ordinary people, and hells that must never be glimpsed.

　　If you remain forever immersed within the narrow shelter of the present world, you will never be able to know the truth.”

　　She thus admired the boy’s dazed expression.

　　She softly asked:

　　“——Henry Parker, do you long to possess a soul?”

Chapter 8: Want it!

　　“Sorry, I don’t want it, no time, thanks.”

　　In the dock district, Evelyn Allen coldly rejected the man beside her who was pestering her endlessly like sticky taffy, insisting on treating her to a meal. She pushed her wheelchair straight past the police cordon.

　　The man who tried to catch up was stopped by the police guarding the explosion site, left awkward and rebuffed, and had to leave empty-handed.

　　“Wow, truly a heart of stone.”

　　Dylan Lane leaned against the wall, clicking his tongue in amazement. “Don’t always be so ruthless, Miss Allen. If you ask me, keeping a backup isn’t a bad idea.”

　　Evelyn Allen’s wheelchair stopped beside him.

　　The girl looked at him expressionlessly, staring until he felt uneasy and unconsciously looked away, before she slowly said, “If I have even the slightest bit of self-awareness about my own situation, then I should first understand one thing: no one will ever truly fall in love with a rich, crippled girl.”

　　“Uh…”

　　Dylan Lane was stunned for a long time, then forced a smile: “Don’t say that, you’re so beautiful. Besides, love is always irrational.”

　　“Exactly, so I’m irrational too.”

　　Evelyn Allen looked at him. “And I have money.

　　I’m the one paying you to work, and you’re currently under review by the Astronomical Society. You’d better not tell your examiner about your gigolo get-rich-quick schemes.”

　　Dylan Lane shrugged helplessly, said no more, and obediently followed behind, ready to play the not-so-promising role of muscle and bodyguard.

　　After a night of torrential rain, the scene at the dock was completely changed, and the original clues had been messed up by the foolish actions of certain people.

　　The explosion site was a warehouse, half-collapsed, mud everywhere, seven or eight shipping containers burned into puddles of molten iron, and some coal ash mixed with blood smeared haphazardly on the ground…

　　“Great job.”

　　Evelyn Allen nodded in praise.

　　“…Is that sarcasm?” Dylan Lane asked.

　　“No, it’s genuine praise.”

　　Evelyn Allen raised her eyebrows, uncharacteristically pleased. “These vicious incidents involving border relics are always bizarre and hard to handle. Who knows where the clues might be? If I can’t solve it, it’ll become a stain on my assessment period.

　　Now that someone has stepped up to take the blame, I don’t have to bear any responsibility at all. When the Bureau comes to hold people accountable, let those self-proclaimed smart idiots take the fall.”

　　“……”

　　Dylan Lane’s eye twitched, not knowing what to say. Compared to this muddy under-the-table struggle, even a gigolo like him seemed as pure as an angel.

　　At this moment, Evelyn Allen’s phone vibrated.

　　A message.

　　She glanced down at it, froze, as if pondering something.

　　After a while, she turned off the phone screen.

　　“What’s wrong?” Dylan Lane asked.

　　“They found a few more bodies, all drifters with prior drug offenses.” Evelyn Allen spun her phone deftly in her fingers, remarking mockingly, “Who knows how long they were tortured before they died. Tsk tsk, their deaths were truly gruesome.”

　　“Another trip to the morgue?”

　　Dylan Lane sighed helplessly and touched his face: going to the morgue all the time is bad for the skin.

　　“Why would I go out of my way to hurt my own eyes?”

　　Evelyn Allen turned her wheelchair, calmly saying, “Since we’ve finished checking the scene, let’s all go home. When they’re running around like headless chickens, I’ll graciously step in and save the day.”

　　Dylan Lane was stunned.

　　“…You already have clues?”

　　“Coming here was just a formality. The things that really matter can be understood by glancing at the scene and the forensic report.

　　The goods declared in the containers were electronics bound for Europe, the customs declaration was done by a shell company, and if you dig deeper, you’ll only find scapegoats.

　　From the traces at the scene, it’s clear—a group of people using border relics for profit had an internal fight in the warehouse… The specific reason was probably uneven distribution of the spoils, and what happened afterward is why we took over the case…

　　All this can be figured out just by skimming the report. What really concerns me is this—”

　　Evelyn Allen reached out, her two slender fingers pulling a small bag of powder from the side pocket of her wheelchair.

　　“What’s this?”

　　Dylan Lane had now perfectly adapted to his role as the straight man.

　　“Hallucinogens found at the scene, a new type of drug,” Evelyn Allen said. “The tech department’s drug test results are in—there’s source matter mixed in. Which means…”

　　“This was made by that box-shaped border relic?!”

　　Dylan Lane felt a chill: if it could cause such a severe impact, then the seriousness of this incident was about to escalate again.