Chapter 32 - Chapter 32: Who Killed Marilyn?

As Hermann's "Mysticism 101" session came to an end, the investigation team arrived at their destination.

Two black police cars rolled into the Whitechapel slums, drawing curious and wary glances from the street's inhabitants.

📌 Whitechapel—London's largest immigrant enclave.

Most of its residents were illegal migrants from Romanoff and Eastern Europe, smuggled into the country without documentation.

With no legal status, they had no choice but to work for meager wages in the city's sweatshops, struggling to survive.

Aside from immigrants, Whitechapel was also home to the lowest ranks of British society—

Factory workers, laborers, and those discarded by the system.

📌 The police vehicles came to a stop in front of a red-brick building.

Lorien and Hermann stepped out, while Inspector Greve rubbed his temples and groaned.

"Damn it, I think I'm getting carsick."

📌 Lorien raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe you just haven't been sleeping well."

Greve let out a heavy sigh.

"Ugh. With all this 'Jack the Ripper' business, I really haven't."

📌 Lorien shot a glance at Hermann.

He was now certain that Hermann had some supernatural ability—

But not much.

His only real value was the occult knowledge he had just provided, which filled in many gaps in Lorien's understanding.

But in terms of combat?

Hermann was probably weaker than Jack Arnold.

📌 That meant something important.

Hermann's abilities leaned toward subtle manipulations—

Like affecting people's perception.

Which also meant—

Lorien had to be twice as careful from now on.

Otherwise, he could unknowingly fall into dangerous traps.

📌 "Abilities that work in the shadows…Those are the ones used by schemers."

📌 And as an "immortal," he needed to know—

Did 'Vampires' have any resistance to these abilities?

📌 Moreover…

The abilities Jack, Benson, and the others had developed were awfully similar to what Hermann described as "Spells."

📌 Was there a connection?

As he pondered, Lorien subtly slowed his pace.

He never let Hermann out of his sight.

📌 Hermann suddenly sighed dramatically.

"Oh, how tragic…

I only just introduced you to the hidden truths of this world—

And you're already treating me like a threat?"

📌 Lorien's response was blunt.

"Don't take it personally.I don't treat everyone like this.I just don't trust you."

📌 Hermann choked on his words.

"…You really have a way with people, don't you?"

📌 Lorien kept his expression neutral.

"Can't help it.I was born honest."

📌 Ahead, Inspector Hastings and the other officers were already waiting.

Lorien picked up his pace and approached.

📌 Hastings gestured toward the building.

"This is where our latest victim, Marilyn, worked.A brothel called the 'Rose House.'"

📌 Hermann let out a chuckle.

"'Rose House'… what a lovely name."

Then he turned toward Lorien and added—

"…Ah, just so we're clear, I'm not mocking these poor souls for selling their bodies."

He sighed theatrically.

"Back in my mercenary days, when I had too many enemies…

I actually considered working in a brothel to stay off the grid."

📌 Lorien barely stopped himself from choking.

"…Your life has been… eventful."

📌 Hastings cut in, voice firm.

"Save the stories for later.We should examine the crime scene first."

📌 Hermann shrugged and followed.

As the police officers entered the 'Rose House,' the brothel's manager—a middle-aged woman with heavy makeup and a strong perfume scent—hurried over.

📌 She looked uneasy.

"O-Officers!Wh-What brings you here?"

📌 Hastings didn't waste time.

"Are you the owner?"

"N-No, I just manage the place.You can call me 'Old Hawk.'"

📌 Lorien noted the strange nickname.

It sounded like it belonged to an old man.

📌 Old Hawk eyed the officers nervously.

Then she hesitantly asked—

"…You're here for…?"

📌 Lorien smirked.

The laws in Britain were… odd.

Prostitution was legal.

But organizing prostitution was a crime.

📌 So places like 'Rose House' existed in a legal gray zone.

They weren't officially brothels.

Technically, they were "boarding houses."

📌 How it worked:

Sex workers were "tenants" renting rooms. Clients would pay for a room and "negotiate" privately. Instead of a direct cut, the house charged absurd rent. On paper, it was "just a boarding house."

📌 In reality?

Most women lost 70% of their earnings to the "rent."

📌 Hastings' voice was cold.

"We're here to investigate the murder of Marilyn."

📌 Old Hawk's face twisted.

"Marilyn? Ah… her.She hasn't been here for two days…"

Then, she blinked.

"Wait, you're saying she's dead?"

📌 Hastings didn't even have time to answer.

Hermann clicked his tongue impatiently.

"Listen, old lady.I fully understand that your life and time are utterly worthless.You might even enjoy dragging this conversation out.

But my time?My time is worth more than your cheap soul.

📌 The room fell silent.

"…If you keep wasting it,unpleasant things might happen.

And trust me—no one here wants that."

📌 Lorien nearly laughed.

So polite.So respectful.And yet, somehow, still incredibly rude.

📌 Old Hawk flinched.

Then, hurriedly spilled everything—

"Y-Yes! Marilyn worked here!I mean, lived here!

Yesterday, I heard she was murdered by 'Jack the Ripper.'

I was afraid it would ruin business, so I—

I threw out all her belongings."

📌 Hastings and the officers stiffened.

Old Hawk cowered under their glares.

"I-I swear, I didn't mean any harm!I just— I thought—"

📌 Hermann scoffed.

"You're a real piece of work, lady."

📌 Meanwhile…

Lorien took a deep breath.

And detected something strange in the air.

📌 A familiar scent.

A mix of rusted iron… and special ink.

📌 His eyes narrowed.

Something wasn't right.

🔴 TO BE CONTINUED…