Chapter : 265

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The room went very still. A murder mystery. That was not what any of them had expected. Royal units were typically assigned combat missions, escort duties, or dungeon clears. Murder investigations were the domain of the Imperial Police, not the Succession War soldiers.

"One year ago," Finlay continued, tapping a photograph with his thick, armored finger, "a highly reputed, incredibly brilliant scientist named Carrion was found dead in his private laboratory."

The photograph showed a middle-aged man with thinning hair, round spectacles, and a kind, tired face. He wore a white lab coat and stood in front of a cluttered workbench covered in glass vials and bubbling apparatus.

He looked like the kind of person who spent his entire life hunched over a desk, forgetting to eat while he chased the answer to whatever question had captured his mind.

"Carrion was one of the foremost alchemical researchers in the capital," Finlay explained. "His work on mana-reactive compounds was considered groundbreaking. He had the respect of his peers and the funding of three different noble houses. By all accounts, he was at the peak of his career."

He turned to the next page. More photographs. A laboratory, dimly lit, with shattered glass on the floor and overturned equipment. A chalk outline where the body had been found. A close-up of a locked door, its hinges bent inward as if something had forced its way in from the outside.

Zinia leaned forward, studying the laboratory photographs with her trained eye. "That damage pattern is wrong," she said quietly, tapping the image of the shattered glass. "If a chemical explosion originated inside the room, the glass would be blown outward. This glass fell inward. Something broke through that window from the outside."

Finlay gave her a approving nod. "You are correct. That is one of the key inconsistencies that his colleagues raised."

Risa's face had gone pale. She was looking at the photograph of the chalk outline, her small hands gripping the edge of the table. The idea that someone could be murdered in their own workplace and have the truth covered up clearly troubled her deeply. She had spent her life healing people, saving lives.

The thought of someone deliberately ending a life and then hiding it felt like a violation of everything she believed in.

Naomi noticed Risa's discomfort and reached over, placing a firm, reassuring hand on the healer's shoulder. Risa looked up, managed a small, grateful smile, and took a steadying breath.

"The official cause of death was listed as a laboratory accident," Finlay said, his voice hardening. "A chemical explosion resulting from improper handling of volatile materials. Case closed. File sealed. No further investigation."

Sayma leaned forward, her sharp eyes scanning the photographs. "But the Council does not believe it was an accident," she said. It was not a question.

"Correct," Finlay confirmed. "And neither did a significant number of people within the Imperial Police."

He pulled out another section of the dossier. These pages were different. They were not typed or stamped with official seals. They were handwritten, some in haste, some in code, with notes scribbled in the margins and key phrases circled in red ink.

"At the time of Carrion's death, the scientific community was deeply suspicious," Finlay said. "Colleagues of his raised formal objections. They pointed out inconsistencies in the evidence. The angle of the blast did not match the official report. The chemical residue on the floor did not correspond to any compound Carrion was known to work with."

And the lock on his laboratory door had been forced from the outside, which is physically impossible in a closed-room explosion.

"

Zinia's strong jaw tightened. "Someone broke in," she said.

"Someone broke in," Finlay agreed. "But the Imperial Police closed the investigation within seventy-two hours. No suspects were named. No arrests were made. The case was sealed and buried."

Naomi's green eyes narrowed. "Why would the police shut down an investigation with that many inconsistencies? That does not make any sense."

"It makes perfect sense if someone ordered them to shut it down," Laxmi said, her voice low and angry. Her fists were clenched on the table, tiny embers flickering between her knuckles.

Finlay nodded slowly. "That is exactly what the Council suspects. Sympathetic factions within the police force secretly kept the case files alive. They copied documents, preserved evidence, and maintained a shadow investigation for the past twelve months. They could not act openly. Whoever ordered the cover-up has significant influence within the police hierarchy."

He straightened up, his massive frame casting a long shadow across the table. "That is where you come in. The Upper Council is utilizing the Royal units to investigate cold cases that the police cannot or will not pursue. This is your assignment.

Investigate the death of Carrion. Find out who killed him. Find out who covered it up. And bring the truth to light."

He placed both hands on the table and leaned forward, his gray eyes sweeping across the room one final time. "This mission is worth fifteen points. It will not be easy. It will not be clean. And it will definitely not be safe. Are there any questions?"

* * *

---

The room sat in the wake of Finlay's words, processing the weight of the assignment. Fifteen points was a significant reward. Enough to push the 13th Unit closer to the upper ranks of the Succession War standings. Enough to attract better resources, better funding, and better opportunities for Princess Iris's campaign.

But points were just numbers on a board. What mattered was the truth. A man had been murdered, and someone had made sure nobody looked for his killer.

Princess Iris spoke first. She had been sitting quietly at the head of the table, her violet eyes moving methodically across the spread documents, absorbing every detail with the focused, analytical mind that had kept her struggling unit alive through crisis after crisis.

Her small hands were folded on the table in front of her, and despite the dark circles under her eyes, there was a steadiness in her gaze that reminded everyone in the room why they had chosen to follow her.

"Grandmaster Finlay," Iris said, her voice calm and steady. "I want to understand the political landscape before we proceed. You mentioned that the police closed the investigation within seventy-two hours. That kind of speed requires orders from the top. Who was the Chief of Police at the time?"

"Chief Aldric Morrow," Finlay answered. "Retired six months ago. Currently living in the Outer District. The Council has been unable to locate him for questioning."

Iris raised an eyebrow. "Convenient."

"Very," Finlay agreed.

Sayma was already taking notes, her pen moving swiftly across a fresh page in her notebook. "The sudden retirement of a police chief immediately after a suspicious case closure suggests either direct involvement or coercion," she observed, pushing her glasses up. "Either way, Morrow is a critical witness.

If we can locate him, we may be able to identify who ordered the cover-up."

"Agreed," Iris said. "And the evidence preserved by the sympathetic faction? What do we have to work with?"

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