Chapter 509 - 509 The Black Car
509 The Black Car
Benson Walton’s POV:
Goddess, I suddenly have a new partner.
It was a thin and gloomy man of medium build. He looked weak and fragile, like a middle school teacher with nowhere to go after work. Kevin Mark, an ordinary man, from his first name to his last name, was sent by the higher-ups to investigate with me.
I knew who he was. He was Princess Madeline’s confidant, the werewolf grandmaster of the Sorcery Research Association, and Layla’s fiancé, a poor widower.
I knew this poor pair of lovebirds didn’t have time to get married, but when Kevin introduced himself as ‘Layla’s lover’, I respected the black veil he put on himself.
Kevin was a complete intellectual. His heart was filled with grief and hatred, but he knew nothing about our upcoming work, so he listened to me most of the time. This made it convenient for me to arrange my work.
The murderer hid very well behind the scenes, but that didn’t mean there were no traces. This proud mind controller thought erasing memories would make all evidence disappear without a trace. After our relentless investigation, a few clues finally surfaced.
While tracking Julie’s past, we found a very old ticket record book at a private long-distance bus station. The record showed that it was an account book of an unlicensed car company more than thirty years ago. Julie had bought a long-distance bus ticket from this unlicensed car company when she was twenty-three years old, and the destination was the Lycan pack.
Coincidentally, after questioning Julie’s relatives, they remembered that Julie had suddenly left home at the age of twenty-three and said she would work in another city and had disappeared for several years.
After that, they had no impression of Julie at all. When they thought of her again, she had already gone crazy. Back then, Layla had already ‘committed suicide’, and the manor had been abandoned.
Julie had once been to the Lycan pack, and perhaps this trip had left some psychological trauma in her, so she never dared to set foot there again.
Let us start investigating this unlicensed car company. The profit of the unlicensed car company was not good, often only making about ten orders a month. Although the unit price was high enough to make people want to call the police, it was still not enough to make ends meet. After only two years of operation, it was acquired by the current private long-distance bus station.
Finding the dusty account books in the warehouse wasn’t difficult, but we couldn’t find any more clues about Julie. She only bought a one-way ticket, and there was no return record.
Julie took the black car because she didn’t have any identification. After she dropped out of school, she was tricked into being a stripper in an underground bar, and all her documents were confiscated. Her relatives also thought she was embarrassing and were unwilling to vouch for her to get a new identity.
This meant that even if she were in the Lycan pack, she could only work illegally. She would have to take an illegal car if she wanted to return. In general, the ‘customer retainment’ of unlicensed taxi companies was not low because the ‘professional ethics’ of unlicensed drivers were often not credible, and many passengers were also wanted, so looking for acquaintances often increased security.
In this case, Julie’s return trip was not recorded in the account book. So, either Julie was bold enough to find a new snakehead in the unfamiliar Lycan pack, or she did not return to the Golden Bell Pack in any way.
It was more difficult to investigate the former, as the underground forces would not be as honest as the documents in the Traffic Bureau’s archive room. However, I’d rather it be a more troublesome situation because it meant that this incident had nothing to do with the Lycan pack.
If it was the latter, then it was great. In a city where a billboard could crush seven rich businessmen, five senior executives, and three aristocrats to death, any force’s participation would increase the investigation difficulty tenfold. Compared to some powerful figures, the leaders of the underground forces were not even a dish.
But what was that saying again? Fortune never came in pairs, but misfortune never came alone.
Kevin found a faint trace of magic residue on the floor of a nanny’s room in the manor, no different from the air. He examined it and concluded that this residue was left over twenty years ago and did not belong to any sorcery known to the werewolf pack.
“Compared to magic power, this is more like a new form of power. Although it has a very similar structure to magic power, I’m sure they are two completely different forces.”
Kevin used a small glass bottle to store the rotten floor fragment. I didn’t know what kind of spell he cast on it, but even I, a mortal with the naked eye, could see a layer of faint fluorescent spots on the wood.
It looked like some kind of water stain.
What kind of water stain would not evaporate after decades? This was enough to explain how strange it was.
Moreover, the period of twenty years was very ambiguous, and it involved Layla’s death.
“We’ve found his tail,” Kevin said, his eyes flashing with excitement and stubborn hatred.