"Miss Keroy is a Wolf Chicken, but she looks more like a chicken, so I think being a chicken breeder suits you perfectly."
Ave analyzed seriously, her golden hair split into three strands on her head, arms crossed, nodding continuously, clearly agreeing with her own statement.
But this off-the-cuff code name and hasty introduction look like they're meant for cannon fodder. Ethan thought about going to the main bureau later, with colleagues having cooler code names, and when they looked at him, his answer would be "I raise chickens."
The thought made his scalp tingle.
"Can this code name be changed?"
"Yes, you can apply for a change during job promotion or reassignment, and the approval process takes about a week to half a month."
Ave's explanation made Ethan feel slightly relieved, but at the same time, a familiar feeling returned.
Late at night, the boss suddenly announces overtime.
He didn't realize the work at the Reception Bureau was so tight, the identity card arrived urgently on the same day and assigned them work immediately. Fortunately, the work location seemed safe, within the small town.
Ethan packed his tool kit, changed into work clothes, brought along the "Exorcism Agent" and "Blockade Agent," and naturally couldn't forget the detector. After all, this was the first abnormal case he handled in his career, holding significant importance. He was full of anticipation, as this would become a future story for him to tell his grandchildren while lying on a rocking chair at home.
The food was hard bread, which, as Ethan observed, was no different from instant noodles in this era, easy to preserve, clearly effective in filling the stomach, with no drawbacks other than being dry and hard to eat.
Marshall's mansion was very close to them, as a big banker like him naturally resided in the most prosperous district of Ximu Town, just like the wealthy Ave.
When Ethan chewed the hard bread upon entering, he was greeted by a sumptuous candlelight dinner.
A candle was placed on the dining table in the living room, and the table was filled with a whole roast turkey, with an irresistible aroma, causing him to glance at the table. The main dish was cinnamon pie, accompanied by a vegetable and fruit salad.
He took a fierce bite of his hard bread.
He used the method of "viewing the plum to quench thirst," hypnotizing himself into believing that what he was eating was actually a turkey leg, which, at least in hardness, was almost comparable to a chicken leg bone.
Marshall wasn't here, he appeared to have no appetite, having only bitten a piece of cinnamon pie, torn off a small piece of meat from the turkey leg, and had wasted the sumptuous candlelight dinner.
Ethan suddenly thought of something and quickly turned towards Miss Keroy, who entered the house with them.
The turkey's size was somewhat similar to hers, plus they belonged to the same family, and the table scene was probably nothing short of a horror movie for her.
"Don't stare at the table, Miss Keroy..."
Hearing Ethan calling her, Keroy, who was staring off into space at the table, snapped back to reality, stiffening her neck, swallowing the drool threatening to spill, and then awkwardly adjusting her stance, striving to maintain a ladylike posture.
Miss Keroy was longing for meat.
"You must be investigators from the Reception Bureau; the master has been in a poor state these past few days."
Welcoming them was a worried maid, her tone urgent, "The master hasn't eaten properly for the past two days, nor has he gone to work at the bank. He's acting very strange."
"Could you tell us more?"
Ethan took out a notebook, quickly entering work mode.
"The master, um... has suddenly started to really like laughing, his laughter is terrifying, so he locked himself in the room and hasn't come out."
"When did this start?"
Ethan noted under Marshall's name on the first page of the notebook the description of "likes laughing." This matter, which disturbed the Gear City Reception Bureau enough to have them working overnight, surely wasn't just about a mere "liking to laugh" level of abnormality.
Behind Marshall is the Lofic Consortium, handling the banking business of the entire Ximu Town. If he can't work, it will have a drastic impact on the bank.
"It was yesterday morning; the master went to collect property and came back ."
Suspected to be influenced by cursed objects while collecting property, the Blockade Agent should work effectively.
A professional Reception Bureau investigator must dare to make judgments!
This actually doesn't require in-depth investigation; since the Gear City branch asked them to handle this case, it implies that this case most likely involves cursed objects.
Ave wanted to speak but saw Ethan quickly get into the state, revealing a subtle smile. This is her ideal assistant—every great detective needs such an assistant.
Having completed the record and analysis, Ethan asked, "Can you take us to see him?"
He took out the detector, keeping it on.
The needle was in the blue zone, indicating that Marshall didn't accidentally bring any cursed objects home.
The maid quickly led the two people and a chicken to the bedroom door, where the door was tightly closed, and no sound could be heard from inside. She knocked on the door, "Master, the investigators from the Reception Bureau have arrived."
Hearing Marshall's voice from inside the room, Ethan immediately breathed a sigh of relief. The banker was still alive and hadn't ended up with only a cold corpse in the room by the time they'd arrived.
Marshall, dressed formally in his bedroom, was trying to maintain dignity. But from his pale complexion and disheveled hair, it was clear his days hadn't been good lately. As they entered, he sat lifelessly at the desk, holding a sheepskin book, without realizing he was holding the book upside down.
After getting an eye signal from Marshall, the maid bowed to everyone and left the room.
"Mr. Marshall, I am the investigator from the Reception Bureau, the Chicken Br—"
"Hahahahahahahahahaha!"
I hadn't even finished speaking!
Ethan's introduction was drowned out by a burst of intense laughter, feeling that Mr. Marshall was unbelievably impolite. At least wait until he'd said "Chicken Breeder" before laughing!
"Sorry, I just, hahahahaha—!"
The bedroom presented a very eerie scene, with Marshall pale, full of guilt and pain, his features twisted together, yet laughing uncontrollably, bending back and forth, unable to stop, his body hunched into a ball, hands repeatedly slapping the table.
After laughing for a while, his trembling hand grasped a pen and left "Help me" on the endpaper of the upside-down book.
"Don't panic, we are professionals."
Though having accumulated some work experience, the calm Ethan knew what to do now, and this basically counted as no trouble at all. He took out a glass jar from his toolkit containing a black solution, the liquid bubbling ominously.
"This is 'Comprehensive Relief Mind-Block Agent 2.0,' effectively dispelling most cursed object influences."
Ethan unscrewed the jar's lid in front of Marshall, and an intense fishy smell immediately filled the room.
Marshall's pupils constricted, he and the chair retreated several meters away, struggling to speak with all his strength despite still laughing uncontrollably, "I won't drink; I'd rather die than drink!"