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ArabicArknights: The Scarlet Devil of Terra — Chapter 33
Chapter 33: The Hunt for the Killer
“The victims’ parents had come looking for them,” Ch’en Hui-chieh explained, her tone clipped and strictly professional. “They were hoping to drag their children over to apologize to Swire, begging for their family to be spared from financial ruin. But when their frantic knocking went unanswered, they used a spare key to force their way inside.”
Ch’en paused, her eyes darkening as she recalled the scene. “They found three corpses waiting for them in the living room. One of the elderly parents collapsed on the spot. It wasn’t until a neighbor heard the commotion and stumbled upon the bloodbath that the L.G.D. was finally called.”
Ch’en cast a sharp, accusatory glance at Beatrix Swire. The feline simply turned her head, her golden hair swishing as she glared right back.
“Oh, please. Scum like that are better off dead,” Swire scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. “Who in their right mind would grieve for them?”
Before the spark between the two could ignite into another shouting match, Hoshiguma intervened from the driver’s seat.
“We’re almost there,” the towering Oni announced, her voice a calming rumble. “Listen up. In a moment, Old Ch’en, Missy—you two stick close to Flandre. Given the current atmosphere, I’m afraid that if we just march up there unannounced, it’s going to spark a riot.”
“Conflict?” Flandre Scarlet perked up, her crimson eyes sparkling with sudden, innocent excitement. She raised a small hand into the air. “Are there enemies? Flandre can help kill them!”
“Absolutely not!” Swire immediately lunged forward, wrapping her arms around the little vampire in a tight, protective hug. “We do not kill people just because they’re angry!”
“Okay…” Flandre pouted, her shoulders slumping. If she couldn’t break them into little pieces, she really didn’t know what else she was supposed to do. She settled back into the seat, looking deeply disappointed.
The vehicle soon pulled up to the cordoned-off residential block. Hoshiguma stepped out first, popping the trunk to retrieve her massive, triangular shield. The heavy metal hummed with latent power.
“I’ll take point,” Hoshiguma directed, her demeanor shifting into combat readiness. “Missy, keep a firm grip on Flandre. Old Ch’en, I’m leaving the rear guard to you.”
The L.G.D. had already established a perimeter, but the narrow residential passageways meant that a crowd of morbidly curious onlookers and grieving relatives had gathered against the police tape. Seeing the officers approach, the crowd initially parted, assuming it was just another forensic team.
But the moment a grieving woman spotted the petite, blonde vampire walking behind Hoshiguma, her grief twisted into rabid fury.
“It’s her!” the woman shrieked, her finger trembling as she pointed at Flandre. “That’s the little monster! That’s the bastard who slaughtered my daughter’s family!”
Hearing the venomous curse, Flandre blinked, tilting her head as she looked up at Swire in genuine confusion.
Before the little vampire could even ask a question, Swire stepped forward. Her hand lashed out in a blinding arc.
Smack!
The sharp sound of the slap echoed through the corridor.
“Who the hell do you think you’re cursing at?” Swire snarled, her feline eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
The woman staggered back, clutching her reddened cheek in absolute shock. She had assumed the little vampire was a prisoner being escorted by the L.G.D. She never expected an officer to strike a grieving civilian to defend the supposed murderer. The entire crowd froze, stunned into absolute silence.
“Y-You dare hit me?” the woman stammered, her voice trembling as she pointed a shaking finger at the blonde feline.
“Etch it into your memory, you old hag,” Swire replied, her voice dripping with aristocratic disdain. “The person who just put you in your place is Beatrix Swire. Make sure you spell the name right when you go crying to the L.G.D. to file a report.”
Swire’s posture made it abundantly clear: If I hadn’t stopped you, the little monster you’re cursing would have turned you into a red smear on the pavement.
“I’ll sue you!” the woman shrieked, her shock melting back into hysteria. “I’ll sue you until you’re completely bankrupt!”
She lunged forward, fingers hooked like claws, aiming straight for Swire’s face. She slammed face-first into a wall of solid metal.
Hoshiguma had smoothly stepped in, planting her massive shield between the frantic woman and Swire.
“The L.G.D. is conducting an active homicide investigation,” Hoshiguma stated, her voice dropping an octave, echoing with the intimidating weight of a seasoned enforcer. “If you continue to obstruct our path and incite a riot, I will personally arrest you for interfering with official duties.”
Under the Oni’s freezing, authoritative glare, the surrounding crowd finally regained their senses. Several bystanders hastily grabbed the thrashing woman, dragging her back behind the police tape.
“Let’s move,” Hoshiguma commanded. She lifted her heavy shield and marched directly into the crime scene.
Inside the apartment, the metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air. Several L.G.D. officers were already carefully combing through the wreckage. Seeing the towering Oni enter, they immediately stood at attention.
“Madam Hoshiguma!”
However, their respectful greetings faltered the moment they spotted the petite, winged girl trailing behind her. Unease rippled through the room.
An older officer, well aware of Ch’en’s high-ranking status, stepped forward with a deep frown. “Madam Ch’en, bringing a civilian—especially her—into an active scene… this doesn’t exactly comply with regulations, does it?”
“What regulations are being broken?” Ch’en Hui-chieh countered, her voice slicing through the tension like a blade. “Flandre Scarlet is a special consultant for the Special Inspection Unit, personally authorized by Chief Executive Wei Yenwu. Bringing an expert to the scene when we encounter anomalous variables is standard operational procedure.”
The invocation of Wei Yenwu’s name instantly silenced any further protests. The officers exchanged nervous glances, their eyes lingering on the strange little girl currently being held in a vice grip by Beatrix Swire.
“Big Sister Swire, you’re squeezing too hard,” Flandre complained, squirming in the feline’s grasp. “It’s making it really hard for Flandre to look at the food… I mean, the bodies!”
Swire sighed, reluctantly loosening her hold. “Just… behave yourself, alright?”
Flandre nodded enthusiastically and trotted over to the forensic examiner crouched by the corpses. It was a familiar face—the same medical examiner who had handled the previous bodies. Unlike the patrol officers, the doctor didn’t flinch at the vampire’s approach.
“Take a look,” the examiner said, gesturing to the pale remains. “Tell me if you spot anything out of the ordinary.”
Flandre crouched down, her crimson eyes sweeping over the three desiccated corpses. After a few moments of silent observation, she nodded, confirming her earlier suspicions.
“The killer definitely used Originium Arts to drain their blood,” Flandre announced, her childish voice contrasting sharply with the morbid subject matter. “And look! None of them struggled. There are no defensive wounds, and they didn’t scream before they died. That means one of two things: either the draining happened so fast they couldn’t even blink, or they were completely paralyzed the whole time.”
“The first scenario is highly improbable,” Hoshiguma mused, stepping closer to inspect the jagged lacerations on the victims’ arms and necks. “If the killer possessed the power to drain three adults instantly, they wouldn’t have needed to inflict so many superficial wounds. So, you’re suggesting they were unconscious—or already dead—when the draining occurred?”
Flandre nodded vigorously. “Yep, yep! That’s exactly what Flandre thinks. But since there’s no leftover blood in the room, Flandre can’t taste it to know exactly how they felt when they died.” She paused, her expression turning unusually serious. “But Flandre did figure out one more thing. The bad guy definitely wasn’t hungry!”
The surrounding L.G.D. operators paused their work, turning to listen to the little girl’s grisly lecture.
“Think about it!” Flandre gestured wildly at the corpses. “If the bad guy was a vampire, and they were drinking blood just to fill their tummy, they wouldn’t make all these messy little cuts. That’s not how you eat! If you make them bleed everywhere, the food gets all over their clothes and the floor. How are you supposed to eat that? Lick it off their dirty skin like a dog?”
A collective shudder rippled through the room. The sheer nonchalance with which the little girl discussed the logistics of consuming human beings sent ice water through the veins of every hardened officer present.
Having thoroughly inspected the perimeter, Flandre skipped back toward the exit, trailing behind the senior officers.
Out in the hallway, the hysterical woman from earlier opened her mouth to hurl another insult, but a terrified relative clamped a hand over her mouth, dragging her back.
Swire paused at the threshold, casting a withering, aristocratic glare down at the woman. “Remember,” the feline purred, her voice laced with venom. “Beatrix Swire. I am incredibly curious to see exactly how you plan to bankrupt me. I’ll be waiting for your lawyers.”
The color completely drained from the woman’s face. The realization finally hit her like a physical blow. This wasn’t just some arrogant officer—this was the heiress of the Swire family, the very financial titan whose casual remarks had nearly annihilated their family’s business overnight.
Leaving the trembling woman staring in absolute terror, the L.G.D. sealed the apartment doors and escorted the group out of the building.
“Alright, I’ll drive you back to headquarters now,” Swire sighed, rubbing her temples.
Flandre shook her head, her blonde pigtails bouncing. “No hurry! Let’s get in the car first!”
Without waiting for an answer, she hopped into the back seat of Hoshiguma’s cruiser. Exchanging bewildered glances, the three women followed suit, sealing themselves inside the soundproofed vehicle.
Swire opened her mouth to demand an explanation, but Flandre beat her to it.
“Tonight at two o’clock,” the little vampire announced, her childish demeanor vanishing entirely. “Lungmen Outer Ring, Second Cemetery.”
The atmosphere in the car instantly shifted. All three officers stiffened, their investigative instincts flaring to life.
“Is that a message left by the killer?” Ch’en asked, her tone deadly serious.
“Yep!” Flandre nodded. “It was a super simple blood curse woven right into the dead bodies. You can only see the traces if you try to investigate it using blood magic. But honestly?” She wrinkled her nose in deep disgust. “It was super crude. Like, baby-level magic. It’s way, way worse than the stuff Patchy taught me.”
“So,” Swire began, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the little girl. “You’re hoping we all roll out there together to catch this bastard red-handed?”
Flandre’s face lit up with a terrifyingly radiant smile. “Yes, yes! Flandre wants to see exactly what kind of ugly bad guy dared to do all these gross things and try to frame Flandre for it!”
Hoshiguma met Ch’en’s gaze through the rearview mirror. The Lungmen superintendent gave a curt, decisive nod.
“If the killer deliberately left a calling card, bringing a full tactical squad will only spook them,” Ch’en analyzed. “Just the four of us will suffice. It gives us maximum mobility and stealth.”
Without another word, Hoshiguma slammed her foot on the accelerator. The heavy cruiser peeled away from the L.G.D. convoy, vanishing into the neon-lit streets.
“Hey, where are they rushing off to?” a patrolman muttered, watching the taillights fade.
“Mind your own business,” the older officer from earlier reprimanded him. “With Madam Hoshiguma at the wheel, she’ll keep those two hot-headed young ladies from tearing the city apart.”
“Fair point,” the patrolman conceded. The mere thought of the Oni’s unshakable reliability was enough to put the entire precinct at ease.
The cruiser handled swiftly toward the port district. Although the Second Cemetery was technically classified under the Lungmen Outer Ring, it was actually situated on an isolated, sprawling plot of land deep in the desolate suburbs. There were no direct routes from the inner city; one had to detour entirely through the industrial port to reach it.
As Hoshiguma’s vehicle sped past the towering cranes of the harbor, a solitary figure stood in the shadows of a high-rise gantry.
Wei Yenwu exhaled a thin stream of smoke, his piercing eyes tracking the fading taillights. He casually flipped open a classified dossier handed to him by a kneeling operative of the Shadow Guard.
“It appears our little vampire friend has finally picked up the scent of her supposed kin,” the Chief Executive murmured, a calculating glint in his eye. “The question remains… what choice will she make when she finds them?”
The intelligence report in Wei’s hand was vastly superior to the fragmented data the L.G.D. possessed. It detailed not only the exact time of the murders but also a rough physical profile of the killer, alongside a complete breakdown of the arcane signatures left at the scene.
With a subtle flick of his wrist, Wei gave the silent command.
Like phantoms melting into the night, a specialized strike team of Shadow Guards detached from the darkness, tailing Flandre’s group at a discreet distance as they headed straight for the desolate cemetery.
By the time Hoshiguma parked the cruiser near the cemetery gates, the dashboard clock read just shy of midnight.
The area was completely devoid of city lights, swallowed by an oppressive, suffocating darkness. The wind howled through the barren trees, carrying the faint, metallic scent of rusted iron and decaying earth.
“Ugh… it is absolutely pitch black out here,” Swire muttered, wrapping her arms around herself. A visible shiver ran down her spine, and her striped tail curled instinctively around her leg. “It’s genuinely creepy. The killer said two in the morning. Aren’t we way too early?”
“Wait, look,” Swire suddenly pointed toward a faint, flickering yellow glow piercing through the fog. “There’s a light on in the guardhouse. It’s probably the local gravedigger. Let’s head over there.”
Seeing no objection from Ch’en, Hoshiguma slowly rolled the cruiser forward, the tires crunching loudly against the gravel path until they reached the rusted iron gates.
The sudden glare of headlights prompted the heavy wooden door of the guardhouse to swing open. A scruffy, hunched old man in his sixties stumbled out into the cold night air.
“Who the hell is out there?!” the old man barked, squinting against the high beams and waving a battered flashlight. “Coming to a graveyard in the dead of night? Are you out of your damn minds?!”
Hoshiguma rolled down her window, instantly plastering on a sheepish, apologetic smile.
“So sorry to bother you, Uncle!” the Oni called out, her tone perfectly mimicking a drunken, sentimental civilian. “We’ve got a dear friend buried in here. We had a few too many drinks downtown, and we just started missing her terribly. Could you be a saint and open the gates for us? We just want to pour one out for her and then we’ll be right out of your hair!”
The old man scoffed, planting his hands firmly on his hips.
“You say you have a friend, so I’m just supposed to believe you?” he grumbled, his voice dripping with cynical exhaustion. “Don’t think I don’t know what this is. You rich city girls get bored and start playing all sorts of stupid, messy dares. Tonight, you decided my graveyard was the perfect spot for your little ghost hunt, didn’t you? Well, I’m telling you right now—if you want to visit a friend, you come back when the sun is shining. We don’t take visitors at night. Get lost!”
Before Hoshiguma could attempt another diplomatic angle, the back door flew open.
Swire hopped out into the cold dirt, her patience completely evaporated.
“Listen here, old man,” the feline snapped, marching right up to the gate with her hands on her hips. “What’s the big deal with just letting us in for a few minutes? Name your price—I’ll pay you double!”