Bailonz Street 13-Chapter 188: Side Story

Chapter 188. Calamity (3)

Though Liam looked like he wanted to scoop me up and proudly show me off to everyone, he remembered there were people watching and his clothes were covered in dirt, so instead of bouncing around, he just left a light kiss on my forehead.

It was artificially created damage. They seemed to believe that if they could fool ordinary people, they could fool us too, but we could clearly see these weren’t roughly torn wounds but cuts made by blades. Though meant to look like the work of beasts or monsters, it actually wasn’t.

Leaving the farm, O’Brien wore a serious expression.

“How many people could kill chickens and sheep?”

“Well. At least not an eighty-year-old,” Liam muttered, removing his nitrile gloves and dropping them in the trash.

I agreed. At least, someone who could even kill cows must be either very strong or skilled. Also, they had to be someone who wouldn’t draw attention walking around here. Look at Liam and me—we drew everyone’s eyes just walking a little. Therefore, the culprit was likely a local. They needed to know the animal owners without drawing attention.

“Do many people know you’re here because of the burial mound?”

I asked first. O’Brien answered while heading to the car.

“Probably most villagers know. If one person knows, the whole village tends to know. Small villages like this have tight communities.”

“Are there people who seriously believe in the tomb’s curse?”

“Almost none. I didn’t believe it either. Though my thinking changed after animals started dying steadily.”

This time I asked Liam:

“What are the chances someone’s doing this to drive them out?”

Liam shrugged while rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Don’t know.”

Right, I don’t know either. We lacked clues. We couldn’t learn much just looking at this one place. Yet we couldn’t jump to conclusions either.

First, we decided to return to the hostel to change into comfortable clothes before going out again. We couldn’t keep ruining perfectly good clothes with dirt.

Back in our room with the door closed, completely away from people’s eyes, Liam spoke:

“The tooth marks on the neck were made with something like a sharp awl, but to identify exactly what, we’d need to cut out a cross-section of the wound to make a cast and compare it with tools. If we leave that part to others, results should arrive in about half a day.”

But since we couldn’t take skin samples in front of the ranch owner, we’d need to wait for an opportunity at night.

When should we take it? I asked, and he responded with a sly smile and silence.

* * *

We wandered around the village like tourists. People’s suspicions started to diminish as they watched us taking scenery photos and rolling up our pants threatening to wade into the winter sea. They seemed to judge that we weren’t seriously investigating the case. People’s attitudes became surprisingly generous.

While the village brought back memories of Hisford in many ways, it wasn’t as peaceful as Hisford. There was an ominous feeling despite the cozy setting, especially thinking that someone who sliced open animal bellies mixed among the people.

It remained a peaceful day until we returned to our room and prepared for sleep.

“Get some sleep now,” Liam said.

“…Because we’re going out at dawn?”

“You know me too well now.”

I sighed and pulled the blanket up to my head. Liam’s giggling made the old bed vibrate.

Seeing I couldn’t easily fall asleep from tension, Liam’s large hand started gently patting my shoulder. Seeing him treat me like a child, I muttered:

“Where did you learn this?”

Liam exclaimed theatrically:

“My goodness, Jane. Have you forgotten I was Lawrence’s godfather?”

Ah, right. Lawrence Cassfire. A name I’d forgotten. Peaceful daily life had slightly blurred my London memories. While memories with Liam remained vivid, others had started becoming half-faded.

“After you left, I devoted myself to childcare. The London Daily ran articles titled ‘London’s Great Detective Gets a Son?’ for days. Those journalists with nothing to write about seemed to think betting on whether I was a single father was more important than that year’s legislation.”

“And then Jefferson mentioned my absence?”

“Yes! I swore I’d repay that debt to Jefferson someday, grinding my teeth!”

Finally, I burst out laughing.

The regular rhythm of shoulder pats released my tension. Listening to the quiet hum of the radiator, I dozed off.

* * *

Around two in the morning, Liam Moore woke me.

When I opened my eyes, he was already changed. He gently wiped my sleepy face with a damp towel, then started layering me with thick padding and scarves over my pajamas. After putting mittens on my hands, we carefully left the hostel. The asphalt streets were still wet. It must have rained overnight.

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Jacob, the hostel owner, had already returned to his home. Therefore, no one would notice our absence.

Liam slowly retraced our steps to the farm we’d visited during the day, and finally jumped into the pit to tear off part of a poor sheep’s hide. It was already so tattered and damaged that no one would notice if some was taken. Liam sealed it tightly in an envelope.

We took a roundabout route back to avoid meeting anyone, which proved a good choice. When we returned to the hostel, we encountered strange footsteps in the corridor. Liam put a finger to his lips and pulled me into the cleaning supply closet.

Our quiet breathing filled the silent closet. We had to press very close together, but with a suspicious person walking around outside, that wasn’t much of a drawback. I listened carefully and cautiously watched outside, wondering what purpose this visitor had.

They had very irregular footsteps. And they were incredibly tall. Thump, step—either limping or dragging one leg, their stride kept lengthening and shortening. And very quietly, there was a clanking sound.

What was that? Just now?

Before I could wonder more, the huge man left the hostel. The footsteps grew distant and completely disappeared.

But we didn’t leave. Both Liam and I had experienced intense pursuits and psychological warfare. After we’d maintained complete stillness in silence for five more minutes—thump. Those footsteps returned.

They must have been waiting nearby, holding their breath to see if anyone else was around! Who knows what would have happened if we’d gone out. A robber? It felt like they were hoping to encounter someone.

We endured fifteen more minutes in that stuffy enclosed space before carefully emerging. Liam used a mirror to check both sides of the corridor and nodded after confirming no signs of life.

It was too dark inside the supply closet to notice, but under the corridor’s dim daylight fluorescent bulbs, I could properly see Liam’s face. His face was bright red like a ripe persimmon, and his walking was very slow. Afraid the visitor might return, I practically dragged Liam to our room, but he hurriedly pushed me away saying:

“I-I’ll take a quick shower.”

“What? At this hour?”

“Need to. …Hey, I can’t sleep next to you smelling like sheep!”

…A good excuse. The problem was it didn’t work between us who were close enough to catch each other’s lies.

While Liam ran to the bathroom with a pitiful expression, I removed my thick gear, got back into bed, and dozed off.