Ch.170Request Log #015 – Even a Single Drop of Blood Calls the Sharks (5)

It wasn’t the first time I’d taken a case where I couldn’t get a handle on things. Usually after digging this deep, I’d have found some leads, but this time the trail went cold right after the warlocks.

Should I have taken them to the warehouse by the docks instead of killing them? Even torture wouldn’t have extracted information they didn’t know, and they’d barely have revealed what little they did know. It was better to deal with them on the spot.

All I had left were what I’d entrusted to Yehoel and the prostitute who had been with the ogre who was staying here when the warlocks came looking. Legwork was my best option now.

I pulled out $10 from my wallet for information and slid it across the counter. Though I’d made threats, I’d gotten the information I needed, so some compensation was warranted. I walked out of the hotel with the cigarette still in my mouth.

I could try meeting the ogre staying in the suite, but even if I did, I had nothing to say to him right now. All I knew was that the woman had disappeared and was last seen at this hotel.

When you say something like that, there are only two possible responses. One is “I’m sorry, I don’t know,” and the other is “Why are you looking for a missing woman from me?” Either way, I’d have nothing to add.

If I discovered something, I might come back. I couldn’t go to the red-light district at this hour. Most places would be closed, so I headed home first. I should visit Iris tonight after a long time.

I wasn’t going there for pleasure. I was going for comfort. And, as a bonus, I needed to look into the half-ogre prostitute, so that excuse would do.

As soon as I got home, I called Yehoel again. The connection was quick this time too, and he seemed to have sobered up a bit.

“Oh, Husband? I’ve been through all the case files but couldn’t find anything similar. Well, I did find a few things. Want me to tell you?”

“Tell me everything you found. I can’t exactly walk into the police archives myself.”

Yehoel was the kind of angel who would let me in if I asked, which was precisely why I needed to keep my distance. Even if he didn’t take money, reducing the chances of being caught was one thing, but entering the police station was another matter entirely.

“There aren’t that many kidnapping cases, but anyway… Remember that human doctor who kidnapped lizardmen for sterilization, saying inferior species shouldn’t be allowed to spread? He also used warlocks for easy kidnapping. The warlocks were hanged, but do you remember what happened to the doctor himself?”

“He was a bastard who deserved worse. I just didn’t expect the victims and their relatives to actually attack and eat him. Anyway, the victim here is human. Next.”

It didn’t seem like a crime motivated by hatred toward a specific race. If it were, they wouldn’t have ignored the banker, another human, who was right there. The target was that woman specifically.

“And, another one I found… Oh, right. There was also a guy who kidnapped women that goblin gangs were bringing in to sell to the red-light district, then sold them himself. He was a warlock too.”

“That’s why I don’t go to places where the women are cheap but don’t speak the language. Anyway, you said it wasn’t the red-light district.”

“That’s true. Still, I asked the officer in charge just in case, and nothing unusual happened there. Like you said, it doesn’t seem to be the red-light district…”

There would be at most three or four cases. Sleep-inducing magic was so basic that the small number was due to its commonality.

It wasn’t common to see warlocks committing crimes, let alone walking around with their heads held high. Most of them lived in hiding, like that former warlock-soldier I met through the journalist.

“And, this doesn’t involve humans, but… you know. There was that werewolf vagrant who used magic to put livestock to sleep before eating them alive. Isn’t that similar to this case, just with animals instead of people?”

“Werewolves don’t eat people. I’ve slept at the bartender’s house since I was a kid… If I was going to be eaten, it would have happened long ago.”

It was true that they got intoxicated with excitement when they transformed, and young werewolves couldn’t control their excitement and would howl loudly when they changed at night, which was quite noisy, but that was about it.

Still, Yehoel seemed to like his third theory and started talking nonsense. Whenever Yehoel said something was obvious or a case was simple, he invariably talked nonsense.

“You had a childhood? I can’t imagine it… Anyway, then the culprit is obvious. It’s the ogres. They eat people.”

“It’s amazing you’ve lived with that kind of common sense and haven’t been shot by an ogre yet. Anyway, how long has it been since they stopped cannibalism, and you’re still talking like that?”

I snapped that it was nonsense, but I vaguely thought that his nonsense might not be entirely wrong. Even a broken clock is right twice a day. Yehoel is right about once a day.

“Why? Did all the ogres get together and agree ‘Let’s not eat people anymore’? That’s not how it works. It’s just that some high-ranking figure said, ‘Let’s eat normal things now.’ Some might not like that and want to enjoy ogres’ old cuisine. Don’t you think?”

That wasn’t why I was thinking about it. There were commonalities in cases where magic was used to kidnap people. There was a reason not to simply knock them out from behind or kill them.

The doctor had his insane belief in population control, and since lizardmen were stronger than humans, he had to resort to magic. There was both reward and necessity.

The man who stole women being smuggled in by goblins needed them alive, and using magic to put them to sleep and steal them would bring him a large sum of money. There was both reward and necessity.

When resorting to magic, there had to be a commensurate reward. If they really kidnapped her to eat her, then there was enough reward to justify using magic… and a reason for the woman to be kept alive.

I had circumstantial evidence now. And I thought I heard a familiar word. Something that gave me déjà vu.

“What did you just say?”

“What, that some might want to enjoy ogres’ old cuisine? You know what I mean.”

“Ogres’ old cuisine” was just another way of saying cannibalism. No one wanted to equate people with food.

Right, I definitely saw a similar term at the tailor shop where the kidnapped woman had last been. Yes, I’d seen someone putting away a letter from something called the “Ogre Old Cuisine Society.”

Until then, I’d been so fixated on the idea that catching the warlocks would lead me to the woman that I completely overlooked it. Should I have been investigating the ogre side rather than the warlocks?

There was still no evidence, but if this Old Cuisine Society really consisted of those who wanted ogres’ old cuisine and they kidnapped the woman, then all the questions I’d been seeking answers to would be solved at once.

Why target the banker’s mistress specifically? She wasn’t the banker’s mistress at all, but a woman who had visited a tailor shop run by one of those cannibalistic ogres and was marked as a target.

Why use such an uncertain and expensive method to kidnap one person? If you wanted to eat someone and make them disappear without a trace, you needed to.

Without Yehoel’s nonsense, I wouldn’t have been able to deduce this from the evidence alone. I would have wasted all my time looking for a non-existent half-ogre prostitute in the red-light district.

Still, I had no evidence. I couldn’t just barge into the ogre’s tailor shop and interrogate him by breaking his fingers. Surveillance and tailing came first.

If this was just my delusion born from Yehoel’s nonsense, nothing would happen. If not, I’d either find something out or they’d find me out.

Anyway, the only other option was to comb through the red-light district looking for a woman whose name and face I didn’t know, who might not even be a prostitute.

“Alright, I’m hanging up. If this job ends properly, I’ll buy you a drink at Eden, so keep that in mind.”

“Ah, you bastard… You remember how you got away with it at Two Face last time? Every time you promise to buy me a drink at Eden after I help you, I get nothing in return. Fine, I’ll fall for it one more time.”

I hung up. I properly checked my gun and packed a duffel bag, leaving it in the car before leaving home. I probably wouldn’t be able to visit my client today either. But if I played my cards right, this could be over in a few days.

If they really were cannibals, I could just report them to the police, mistress or not. I didn’t need to handle them all by myself. I wasn’t lacking in ability, but it would be tiresome.

I headed straight back to that tailor shop. When I opened the door and entered, the ogre tailor immediately showed his discomfort.

“You’re back, detect…”

First, I needed to put him at ease. Since we’d already met, I needed a reason to make my presence in the area seem natural.

“Today you can call me a customer. I’ve made some progress on the case. Seeing that dwarf warlocks are involved, it seems like something the dwarves are behind. There’s a gathering of influential figures in Littlehold that I’m thinking of attending. But I don’t have a suitable suit, so I came here. Got anything to recommend?”

If this place really was for selecting prey, there would be more evidence. The ogre, who still seemed anxious and couldn’t keep his hands still, nodded briefly.

“We prepare suits for all races here. Ah, looking at your height and build, this size should suit you… May I recommend something that fits you? I’ll bring a summer suit.”

“Sure, why not.”

After saying that, I looked around the store. While pretending to casually walk around, I secretly tapped the walls, but they didn’t sound hollow. The interior being small might really be due to the storage space.

The ogre tailor soon returned with a suit and shirt that looked like they would fit me perfectly. His skill in sizing someone up with just a glance wasn’t that of someone who had only done it once or twice. I accepted it.

“This is ready-made, but it should fit you perfectly. If you’re trying to blend into a party venue, you don’t need anything special anyway. Let’s have you try it on.”

His suit selection skills were quite good too. A moderately light navy blue with thin fabric, perfect for both a summer suit and for casually attending a party.

He wants to send me away quickly. Is there a reason my presence makes him uncomfortable? Normally, if I were just a customer and not a detective investigating him, he would spend more time patiently making recommendations.

Has this ogre realized he’s under suspicion, or am I just suspicious of a skilled tailor? I couldn’t assess the situation, but it was better to go along with him for now.

With luck, I might find something. I took the ready-made suit into the brightly lit changing room, which was further inside from the wall.

There was a mirror. I started to feel uneasy. My face still appeared blurred and unclear. Although I couldn’t stay long in a space full of mirrors, it wasn’t unbearable for a short time.

Work is work. Even if I wasn’t feeling well, I had to finish the job. Fighting the urge to retch, I brought my hand to the mirror and tapped it with my knuckles, checking for empty spaces.

The sound of tapping on a thin wall echoed. It was hollow inside. This tailor shop was much smaller inside than the space it occupied from the outside.

These bastards… I turned off the light that had a note saying “Do not turn off.” The changing room darkened. I could faintly see beyond the mirror.

It was a one-way mirror—appearing as a mirror from the bright side but like a window from the dark side. I wouldn’t need to tail anyone. This was fortunate—it simplified things.

I heard the ogre’s footsteps approaching the changing room door. Soon he cleared his throat once to announce his presence and said:

“Sir, did you knock? If you need any help…”

I softened my voice. I didn’t draw my gun from its holster. I couldn’t fire a shot here now. Besides, subduing an ogre by force wouldn’t be difficult.

“Ah, you came right away. Could you come in for a moment? Something’s caught while I’m changing. There are also some things I’d like to check.”

Reassured by my calm voice, the ogre opened the changing room door. He saw that the light was off. Even with an ogre’s eyesight, he would have seen the empty space beyond the mirror. His face immediately turned pale.

I reached out, grabbed his tie, and pulled the ogre—who weighed twice as much as me, if not more—into the changing room. I shoved him toward the one-way mirror and stood with my back to the door.

It was quite a cramped space for an ogre of his size to move around in. Fortunately, I was much smaller than the ogre. My statement about wanting to check something was quite honest.

“Where is the woman?”

The ogre began to tremble, covering his head with both hands. As if determined not to speak, he bowed his head deeply, not caring that his pointed fangs were piercing his lips.

I hadn’t imagined he wouldn’t cooperate. I grabbed his head, which he had wrapped in his arms, and slammed it against the mirror wall. The mirror shook violently.

I slammed it again. This time, the mirror cracked. The sound echoed into the empty space beyond the mirror but not outside it. No sound would escape from in here.

Finally, I slammed his head against the mirror wall one more time. The mirror shattered completely, and the ogre fell through to the space beyond, his waist caught on the window frame.

I lightly climbed over the mirror frame into what looked like a small corridor. All three walls were covered with one-way mirrors that served as windows.

Given that three sides were left open, this wasn’t a place for just one person to observe. They must have observed that woman from here.

I kicked the ogre’s head like a rugby ball, even though he had mirror shards embedded in his back and was keeping his mouth shut with tears welling in his eyes.

“You think you can get away with just keeping your mouth shut? Not at all. I also know about the letter from that Old Cuisine Society or whatever in your counter drawer. What kind of letter was it? If the Old Cuisine Society is what I think it is…”

The ogre raised both hands to cover his mouth. It was a declaration of absolute silence. Ah, right. I would have been disappointed too if I’d heard it for free. I grabbed the middle finger of his right hand that was covering his mouth.

Before long, the ogre’s screams began to echo, but as expected, they only reverberated within this secret room with its thick concrete walls, not reaching outside the shop.

He opened his mouth after the sixth finger. He had held out quite long.

“Y-you bastard! Coming here already knowing everything and pretending to interrogate me…”

I stomped on the ogre’s face, just as I had stepped on the back of the warlock’s head. I hadn’t asked for this kind of talk. Now his words would be more docile.