Jevan broke the silence as he waved his hand:
"Inspector...! What brings you here? Has your little vacation come to an end? Or did you miss me?"
How did he know? The mission I had been sent on was highly classified. I turned my head toward Lionel. I saw him swallow hard as he tried to avoid my eyes, and at that moment I understood who had told him.
I turned my gaze back to Jevan:
"What happened while I was away?"
He pointed a finger at Lionel:
"Why don’t you ask him? He was there before me, and he escaped before me."
I turned once more to Lionel, who was still avoiding my eyes, and said:
"Is what he’s saying true?"
I sighed, then turned and left without uttering a word.
I watched Edward Graves leave. His cowardly assistant followed, closing the metal cell door behind him. They just left that easily?
Wasn’t he supposed to help me get out? Even though I don’t want to leave. Or at least interrogate me? Maybe he plans to question his assistant? I don’t know.
We worked together for months. We were colleagues, technically at least. You’d think he’d show me some kind of moral support. In any case, it doesn’t matter. I didn’t really want to leave in the first place.
There’s no point in staying here, but no point in leaving either. All I want now is to organize my thoughts. I’m planning to leave the Lower District.
As for that researcher? I have no intention of chasing him. I don’t have the strength, and the only weapon I once had, they took from me.
And besides, I don’t feel sorry for him. I’m fine... I’m fine.
A lie. I’m not fine. Those damned spirits are still circling around me, whispering and moaning for release. They don’t give me a chance to think. They don’t let my mind rest even a little.
"How do you expect me to grant you release?"
As usual, no one answered.
"If you really want release, then at least explain to me how I’m supposed to give it to you!"
Then Raghu appeared beside me, the only ghost who actually spoke to me without screaming for release every second.
"You must free them."
"And how in the name of the Creator am I supposed to do that?"
"Kill a doctor? What are you, a gang of ghosts murdered by a group of doctors, holding an eternal grudge against anyone in a white coat?"
"No, that’s not what I mean. You must eliminate Doctor Valentine Crowe."
"Valentine Crowe? That researcher was a doctor too?"
"The doctor was a researcher?"
"In any case, why do you want him dead?"
"Isn’t he the one responsible for your comrades’ deaths?"
"Yes, he killed my comrades. But what does that have to do with you?"
"We want him dead, and you’ll avenge your comrades. A fair deal, isn’t it?"
"You haven’t answered me. What does his death have to do with granting you release?"
"Our souls are still under his control."
"And yet you can communicate with me despite that?"
"Even we don’t know how."
"Interesting, but sorry. I have no intention of hunting that man down."
"What?! You would abandon your comrades’ spirits? Leave them wandering without rest? Even the soul of the comrade who sacrificed himself for you?"
"You heartless bastard."
Raghu began giving me a long moral lecture.
And unfortunately, I couldn’t shut him up.
In that moment, I wished he were like the other spirits. At least then it would be less annoying.
I tried to cut off that stream of preaching by changing the subject:
"You never told me how you died?"
He squatted down in front of me, then began recounting his life struggle from childhood in his village (though I hadn’t asked) all the way to his teenage years and his dreams of opening a bakery (which I also hadn’t asked about). Finally, he reached the part I had actually asked for. He said he had worked as a guard for a storage house, along with two comrades. On a routine night watch, a man broke in and beat them senseless (he tried to polish this part, but I caught him). Then the man entered the warehouse.
When he got to that point, I cut him off:
"That’s one of the most worthless deaths I’ve ever heard in my life."
"I didn’t finish the story yet. That’s not how I died."
I rested my chin on my fist:
"I fought that man with all my courage. But he used some trick and managed to knock me down. Then he went inside the warehouse. And suddenly, a swarm of hands appeared out of nowhere and tore me apart."
"You were guarding the warehouse with two comrades, right?"
"Yes, I told you that."
"And the man who hired you, he was a scrap and herb dealer at the market, right?"
"Oh! Yes, the boss! But how did you know?"
"You’re giving me a moral lecture, and you worked for a human trafficker?"
He didn’t reply. He just vanished, just like that.
"And now you run away?"
I lay back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. After that, I looked at my hands and my clothes, which were still stained with blood. Raven’s blood... that idiot. I looked at my wrists, bound in metal restraints engraved with small symbols.
Then I looked around. The cells were completely empty.
It seemed I had no choice but to wait, and hope Inspector Edward would come and get me out of here.
Luckily for me, I didn’t have to wait long. The metal cell door opened again, and behind it appeared the inspector’s assistant.
He walked toward me, pulled a small key from his pocket, and crouched to unlock my restraints.
The moment the restraints came off, I struck him suddenly with a blow that knocked him to the ground.
Then I snatched the key from him and shackled him with the same restraints that had bound my wrists.
He looked at me wide-eyed and said:
"What are you doing?!" ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝※𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖※𝕟𝕖𝕥
I didn’t bother replying. I just smashed my fist into his face, then another, and another. I beat him until his features were unrecognizable, until my hands were dripping with blood, until that arrogant look was gone from his eyes.
Then I sighed. Finally, some peace. I unlocked the shackle from his wrist, leaving his half-collapsed body on the floor. He spat out blood and looked at me with one half-shut eye and said:
"Why did you do this, you bastard? I came here to get you out, and this is how you repay me?!"
I ran my bloodied fingers through my hair:
"Nothing personal, believe me. But that annoying spirit wouldn’t stop screaming in my head to do it."
He wiped his face with his hand, then snapped back:
"Spirit? Have you lost your mind? Just a few days in here and you’re already talking about ghosts?!"
"Maybe. Anyway, that girl’s spirit wouldn’t stop demanding I kill you."
"Yes. A freckled teenager wearing a straw hat. Did you ever piss off a girl like that before? She really wanted you dead. I barely managed to calm her down."
He said nothing. But his eyes widened, and his grip loosened. Then he bent down, picked up his hat from the ground, dusted it off, put it back on, and left the cell.