"Hahahahaha!"
When Silas saw Viscount Dorsett's embarrassingly positioned corpse, he burst into uncontrollable laughter.
He knew this was a side effect of 3-169. His heart grew anxious, but he couldn't stop laughing.
Instead, his laughter only grew louder.
Frye and Inspector Toller stared at him like he was a madman, while the viscount's family, who had been waiting downstairs, heard his voice and angrily stormed up to find him.
"What's so funny! Who's laughing?"
A lavishly dressed lady strode in, her fury plain to see, with several maids trailing behind struggling to keep pace.
The question didn't need answering, because Silas was still bent over in the bedroom, howling with laughter.
3-169, you're really trying to get me killed!
Silas cursed inwardly, covering his mouth.
Only then did he finally manage to suppress the neurotic laughter, gasping for breath.
"What incompetent police officers! How disrespectful! How does your police department manage its people!"
Lady Dorsett shrieked. The family already felt ashamed of the viscount's manner of death, but had been struggling to maintain their aristocratic composure.
Now, shattered by Silas's loud laughter, even their surface dignity was hard to preserve.
"My sincerest apologies, Lady Dorsett," Inspector Toller said helplessly. "This probationary inspector from Londor, he, he..."
Clearly, Toller was trying to explain, but couldn't find any reasonable excuse.
"Respected madam, this was an accident," Frye said with a cold expression.
"No need for explanations. What's your name, you there! I'll have you thrown out of the police force immediately!" The lady continued shouting. "Lift your head! Is this how you show respect to nobility..."
Her voice suddenly dropped off, because Silas had straightened up, revealing his flawless, handsome face completely to her view.
Suddenly, the viscountess felt that perhaps young people making occasional mistakes could be forgiven after all.
"My deepest apologies, madam."
Silas raised his right hand and bowed to the viscountess with elegant grace. "I was discourteous just now. Please forgive me."
In his uniform, combined with that face, it was hard for any woman not to feel favorably disposed toward him.
Not just the viscountess, even the maids behind her began gazing at him with dreamy eyes.
"You... just be more careful next time."
The viscountess's attitude became remarkably gentle. The dramatic shift in her demeanor left Inspector Toller with an expression of disbelief.
The lady asked Silas a few more questions, and upon learning he'd come from elsewhere to provide assistance, she even offered him some words of encouragement.
Finally, because Silas needed to continue the investigation, she reluctantly left the bedroom.
"You really should go to one of those aristocratic balls. All the ladies and young misses would go crazy for you," Toller said enviously. He'd originally thought Silas had caused a disaster, but the man had calmed the viscountess's fury with just his face.
"I'm not short on money, and I'm not interested in attracting them," Silas said, shaking his head indifferently.
After that chaotic interlude, the investigation continued. Silas reluctantly pulled back the white cloth to see Viscount Dorsett's corpse beneath.
The viscount's body was indeed unclothed.
A rope was wrapped around his neck, with both ends gripped tightly in his own hands, pulling outward. His face bore an expression of excited agony, his complexion turned a bizarrely purplish-red.
"Death by asphyxiation," Frye said, stepping forward to pry open the deceased's eyes for examination.
What kind of thing is this, strangling himself to death? Only nobility could come up with such colorful entertainment.
Silas couldn't help but shake his head. His eyes scanned up and down the corpse, but he detected no unusual aura. "I don't see any mystical factors either."
"Then why would he die in this state?" Frye frowned.
"Probably seeking thrills," Silas said.
He'd seen similar cases in his previous life.
Some people liked to achieve pleasure through asphyxiation, and occasionally when they went too hard, they'd accidentally kill themselves, leaving behind some sensational legends because of their bizarre manner of death.
"..."
After hearing Silas's explanation, Frye's expression became very conflicted. He probably hadn't imagined that people could come up with so many variations.
"I honestly don't know how to explain this to Inspector Toller."
"Just tell him the truth. He's the one who needs to worry about it."
Silas said, his gaze sweeping around the bedroom.
Suddenly, he noticed a faint aura of depravity on a chair. Judging by its condition, it had been left there recently. Silas felt the aura seemed somewhat familiar.
Hmm, I think I've seen a similar aura on those streetwalkers...
Silas thought to himself. Could it be that someone else was present when the viscount died?
"Wait a moment. It seems someone else was here. Let me try a ritual to see if I can find them."
He used his newly purchased silver dagger to create a spiritual wall, lit candles, sprinkled herbal powder and essential oils, chanted incantations, and prayed to the goddess to draw the likeness of whoever had been present at the time.
A tranquil and profound power soon enveloped Silas. He involuntarily picked up a pen and began drawing automatically on white paper. Before long, he had sketched a detailed portrait.
The drawing showed a girl with a round face. Her individual features weren't particularly striking, but together they became quite attractive.
She seemed to be looking at something shocking, her small mouth open, her face showing surprise.
Wait, this lady...
Dismissing the ritual, Silas picked up the portrait and examined it carefully for a few moments, feeling increasingly familiar.
He had indeed seen this lady before, at the underground market in Tingen, the very day he met Mr. Azik!
Was that woman a streetwalker?
Do streetwalkers also browse beyonder materials markets?
Full of questions, Silas pushed the door open and called Inspector Toller over. "The viscount most likely deliberately strangled himself in pursuit of pleasure."
"So that's really what happened?" Inspector Toller seemed to have already guessed as much.
Silas nodded. "Additionally, I discovered that this lady was present the day the viscount died. You can ask the servants if this is true."
Inspector Toller took the drawing and left, returning shortly after.
"The servants have seen her. She was a streetwalker the viscount found himself. Poor girl, she'd barely been in the viscount's bedroom when she fled in fright.
The servants all saw that the viscount was still alive at that time. He was quite displeased, but still had the servants send her away."
She fled? Seems she couldn't handle that kind of play.
But the viscount was surprisingly magnanimous, easily letting the streetwalker go, then ending up with the tragic fate of seeking his own pleasure and accidentally going too hard and dying.
Silas nodded and asked, "So the servants actually knew about the viscount's interests?"
"Yes, but when they were questioned before, they didn't tell the police in order to preserve the aristocrat's dignity," Inspector Toller said.
"Moreover, the servants all say the viscount had been pushing things further and further lately, seeking increasingly extreme thrills.
At this rate, it was only a matter of time before he killed himself."
So the viscount meeting that woman was purely coincidental?
Silas shook his head. He felt this was all too much of a coincidence.
He planned to return and inform the captain, letting him decide whether to continue investigating.
As for the other troublesome matters involving nobility, he'd leave those for Inspector Toller to handle.