CHAPTER 123: CHAPTER 123: EXCUSE_1

"Lord, why have you only returned now?" Dismas eagerly opened the door to welcome Lance inside. He had found it torturous to stay with several people of unknown identity without his Lord present to take charge.

Lance glanced around. The room was only so large: a woman holding a child sat on one side, the sheriff and a dog crouched on the other, a girl lay on the bed, and the captured bandit was tied up in a corner.

He understood the situation at a glance. Unlike Dismas, he wasn’t embarrassed because he knew what each of these people needed.

"The evil cult in the town has been completely eradicated. Everyone can rest easy now."

As expected, this statement immediately dissolved the tense atmosphere. The woman, whose heart had felt suspended in anxiety, finally felt it settle.

But the sheriff had many questions he urgently needed answered, such as...

"Who exactly are you?"

"Let’s put that question aside for now. We first need to discuss something more urgent: how to cover up the disappearance of so many people in town?"

As expected, this statement made the atmosphere, which had just warmed, turn tense again.

They had all heard Lance’s analysis. They knew they couldn’t allow the existence of an evil cult to be revealed, or the Church would find an excuse for a thorough investigation, which would be troublesome.

"Can’t we just tell the truth? We’ve caught all the Heretics. Even if the Church finds out, it won’t matter."

"Do you think those people from the Church will believe you? Or do you think they would pass up such a golden opportunity to make money and expand their influence?"

The sheriff wanted to argue further, but Lance’s retort stopped him in his tracks.

While the Church’s decision to strike against evil cults was sound, the problem lay in who would carry it out. Did they really believe that everyone was a saint who worshipped the Holy Light?

After all, everyone needs to eat.

Normally, the Church collects religious taxes and waits for donations from the faithful. Beyond that, there aren’t many opportunities for them to raise funds. But now, if you say you need to search for Heretics, there are plenty of ways for them to make money.

They could set up numerous restrictions; even a single copper coin from each person would amount to thousands. The merchants and the mayor would also have to pay dearly to prevent the Church’s people from causing trouble.

So, even if they had dealt with the Heretics and averted an attack from the Church’s army, it would still provide an excuse for a major search operation if they couldn’t explain the matter. In any case, it would be the common folk who suffered.

"Is there really no other way?"

"Of course, there is. We just need to find a scapegoat," Lance said with a smirk, looking at the bound bandit.

The sheriff had noticed the man as soon as he walked in, but since everyone was silent then, he hadn’t asked any more questions.

"He’s from the Slave Catchers. Of the people taken previously, six were captured by them, and one was taken by the evil cult. Actually, there’s one more..."

Lance was speaking but suddenly stopped, his expression turning somber. He then shifted the topic to the Slave Catchers.

Hearing this, the sheriff grew solemn. The dog, sensing its master’s mood, became aggressive, baring its teeth at the bandit as if ready to lunge and bite at any second.

The bandit, already tormented by Lance, had long since lost his nerve. Seeing this, he could only cower and tremble in the corner.

"My plan is simple," Lance said, approaching the bandit and removing the gag from his mouth. "The Police Chief rounds up a group, abducts the town’s girls to sell to the Slave Catchers. Tonight, they disagree on the price and fight. We then ’discover’ the Slave Catchers, rescue the girls, and, of course, capture one of their men. And you," he focused on the bandit, "just have to confess to what the Slave Catchers did, and I’ll let you go. How about it?"

"How can you do this?" The sheriff frowned. An evil transaction was taking place right before his eyes, and his belief in justice wouldn’t allow him to stand by idly.

"Do you have a better idea?"

Lance wasn’t in a hurry, his words leaving the sheriff in silence.

"I agree!" After all, the dog’s drool was dripping on my clothes! With no room for choice, he agreed without hesitation, even fearing he might speak too late and miss the chance.

"Good." Lance chuckled and patted the bandit’s shoulder. "I like smart people."

The bandit facing him didn’t know why, but Lance’s smile seemed eerie. Still, it didn’t extinguish his hope for survival, so he nodded in agreement.

"Then everything is settled." Lance stood up, his smile becoming bright as he said cheerfully, "Bandits fighting among themselves, the Police Chief dying violently... Doesn’t that have a nice ring to it?"

The sheriff remained in a quandary. But as Lance announced the outcome, he realized he couldn’t find a better solution and was forced to accept this reality.

What on earth is going on with this world?

Could the justice and the laws that I abide by be wrong?

Lance didn’t dwell on this. Instead, he turned to the sheriff and invited him, "We’re going to check the house where they held the girls. Do you want to come along?"

Without much hesitation, the sheriff followed. With no further objections, Dismas unlocked the door right in front of him. Just as he was about to enter, he heard the Lord’s voice.

"Wait, there’s something wrong with the air."

Lance noticed the dog shake its head and instinctively recoil the moment the door opened; its sense of smell was far more sensitive than a human’s.

This gave Dismas an uneasy feeling. He instinctively stepped back, alertly drew his musket, and was about to load it when Lance raised a hand to stop him.

"The smell is faint. It must have been set some time ago."

As soon as the door opened, Lance detected a faint, indistinct odor. The breeze from the doorway quickly dispersed it, much like the lingering smell in a room after mosquito incense has burned out overnight.

He then took the lead and walked in. As the Candle’s light brightened, the whole room was revealed.

The layout was much the same; rudimentary and dilapidated conditions were synonymous with the lives of common people in this era.

"My Lord," Dismas called, having discovered something that drew both men’s attention.

Lance looked at a jar on the table. Beside it were the remnants of burnt incense and several unlit incense sticks.

Lance picked up the ashes and sniffed them. With his knowledge of these substances, he recognized it as the same kind of drug used in women’s Incense Burners.

"What is this?"

The sheriff, seeing Lance go straight for this object, couldn’t help but ask curiously.

"This is a common tactic of evil cults. When the incense is lit, it releases smoke with special effects. This particular one can render anyone who inhales it unconscious."

Saying this, Lance glanced toward the ropes scattered on the bed, quickly figuring out their method.

"They abduct people, bring them here, and tie them up. Then, they light the Incense and leave. The victims inhale the smoke and fall unconscious. Moreover, the scent of this Incense can interfere with a hound’s sense of smell, making it difficult for you to realize that the missing people are right here in town.

You can’t find them during the day. Then, late at night, they hold their ceremonies at the slaughterhouse. The pervasive smell of blood there masks any other scent, naturally preventing you from discovering anything further."

"No." The sheriff sounded dejected. "Fergus is no ordinary hound. He’s undergone the harshest training and can find a target amidst such distractions. It was my fault.

Because I was deceived by the Police Chief, I believed it was a raid by bandits and didn’t search earnestly. I could have saved them..." The dog, sensing his dejection, rubbed against his leg to console him.

"So, leave it to me. I’ll take care of this."

"Who exactly are you?"

The sheriff couldn’t help but revisit the question from before—why was this man so actively helping to resolve the town’s issues?

But Lance showed no intention of answering yet, merely smiling and waving his hand dismissively.

"I will tell you when the time is right, but not now."