Suddenly, from Perun's side, the call cut off.
Vaelor frowned and spoke into the receiver, "Hello? Hello?"
The line was dead.
Actually, Melody and her family members had come out of the living room and were standing close to Perun. Seeing them nearby, Perun quickly cut the call to avoid suspicion. He slipped the phone back and tried to act normal, but his mind was racing.
Perun thought, At least I gave Vaelor the hint. Let's see when I get another chance to call him.
On Vaelor's side, he slowly placed the landline back. He stood there for a moment, thinking deeply. An art gallery… maybe that's the missing piece. Just as he decided to go there, a red car that looked very old and heavily used stopped in front of Eagle Eye. The engine made a rough, tired sound.
Truman, Robert, and Jackson were inside the car.
Vaelor walked out of Eagle Eye and saw them. Truman leaned out and told him, "Sit beside me."
Vaelor opened the door and got in. As soon as he settled, he said, "I have a clue about the Kite case."
Truman turned his head slightly. "What is it?"
Vaelor replied, "We need to visit the art gallery."
Robert frowned. "Police already visited that place. It's not like there was anything useful there."
Vaelor shook his head. "But it was his workplace. I think we should visit it one more time."
Jackson nodded slowly. "It can be possible."
Truman thought for a second, then said, "Yeah, we'll go."
He started the car. The engine roared loudly, as if complaining about being pushed again.
They reached the art gallery after some time. The building was quiet, almost lifeless. Inside, the walls were painted blue and white. Paintings were everywhere, covering nearly every inch of space.
One painting showed a man and a woman kissing, but tears were flowing from both their eyes. Another painting showed a sheep surrounded by many wolves trying to bite it, yet one wolf had guilt clearly visible in its eyes.
The deeper they went, the heavier the atmosphere felt.
Vaelor looked around and said quietly, "There seems to be something useful here."
Truman replied, "Maybe. But even if there's a clue, it won't be lying openly."
He paused, then said, "Let's split up and search."
They divided in four directions—Robert went one way, Jackson another, Truman another, and Vaelor walked alone in his own direction.
Vaelor moved slowly, observing each painting carefully. Suddenly, he heard a faint sound. The echo was so weak that a normal human ear wouldn't catch it, but Vaelor heard it clearly. At first, he ignored it. When it came again… and again… he stopped.
Cat? Mouse? he thought. But from where?
Thinking an animal might be trapped, he decided to help. He activated his mind-seeking ability.
A vision hit him—darkness, suffocation, something struggling to breathe.
"It's alive…" he murmured.
He whispered, "Sans estoppel," and passed through the left wall, then the right, but found nothing. Confused, he bent lower and slowly dipped his head toward the ground. Below was complete darkness. As he kept staring, a faint silhouette appeared—something moving, struggling—but it wasn't clear enough to identify.
Vaelor deactivated his power. Moving aside the red carpet nearby, he noticed a cut mark on the floor, as if something had been opened and closed many times.
He grabbed a heavy wooden piece that looked like a door cap and lifted it. Beneath it were stairs leading down.
Vaelor went down carefully.
It was completely dark. He stretched his hand around, searching for a light switch. Pillars stood everywhere, making the space feel even more suffocating. After struggling for a while, he finally found the switch and turned it on.
The light revealed a shocking sight.
A person was tied up and dumped in the corner.
Vaelor rushed forward, removed the tape from his mouth, and untied the ropes. As the man gasped for air, Vaelor stared at his face.
I've seen him before…
Then it hit him.
"You're Helen… the painter," Vaelor said. "The artist of Kite."
Helen nodded weakly. "Yes…" His voice was exhausted. "I thought I would die here."
Vaelor asked, "Who did this to you?"
Helen swallowed and said, "Kite… he did this. He has gone mad."
After some time, Vaelor helped him up and took him to Truman and the others. Jackson stayed with Vaelor and Helen, while Robert and Truman went back to search the basement properly.
Vaelor and Jackson then took Helen to the police station. Vaelor explained the entire situation and requested security for Helen. The police agreed and kept Helen under protection.
Later, Vaelor and Jackson sat inside the car.
Vaelor asked, "Why didn't we bring him to our office?"
Jackson replied calmly, "Our location is secret. And Helen needs proper protection."
Vaelor leaned back, thinking silently, So I can get the address that easily… Oh, it was Mr. Elane. Looks like he has pretty strong connections.
After that, Vaelor started thinking again. Helen had clearly said that Kite was the one who kidnapped him.
So… Perun's theory was wrong after all. At least, that's what it looked like on the surface.
Vaelor leaned back, staring at nothing, replaying Helen's expressions in his mind. It didn't feel like Helen was lying. There was no hesitation in his voice, no fear, no sign of a planned story. It felt genuine. More like things just happened to him rather than him making them happen.
And if that was true, then the whole incident was just a coincidence. A dangerous one.
Vaelor knew one thing for sure—it was nearly impossible for a normal human to notice something like that in the moment. Which made the case even more disturbing.
On the other side of Norus, near the old Junwell district, Alfred and Caeson were sitting inside a bar that looked abandoned from the outside. The lights were dim, the air thick with smoke and the smell of cheap alcohol. It was the kind of place no ordinary person would ever enter.
Inside, every man looked dangerous. Most of them wore sheriff-style caps, but their eyes said they were no lawmen—just gang members hiding behind a symbol.
Junwell stood near the center of the bar, his presence alone enough to silence the room. He slowly looked around at every person sitting there.
"I've got work for all of you," he said calmly. "Kill the person I name… and you'll get ten thousand dollars."
For a moment, there was silence. Then excitement spread like fire. Chairs scraped, glasses slammed on tables, and greedy smiles appeared everywhere.
Junwell smiled wider, clearly enjoying the reaction."It starts now."