Charles walked over and sat down as invited, noticing that Fiona shifted slightly in the shadows, maintaining a position from which she could instantly protect her master if any unexpected situation arose.
"You're probably wondering why I called you here," Christopher began, his voice gentle yet tinged with seriousness.
"I was just about to ask that, sir," Charles replied, trying to maintain a polite but cautious demeanor.
Christopher nodded slowly before taking a small sip from his water glass. "I've heard much about you, Mr. Ravencroft... especially your abilities in solving cases."
Charles didn't respond, merely nodding slightly to indicate he was listening attentively.
"And I myself need your assistance with a matter..."
Christopher let out a deep sigh, his expression immediately becoming more serious. "You must be aware of the incident that occurred at my mansion during the reception... regarding Henry Blackwell."
Charles nodded; his memories of that night remained vivid—the image of Henry walking in with an impassive face before the contamination incident occurred.
"I was at that event. I saw everything with my own eyes."
Christopher stood up slowly, looking directly at Charles. "I need you to investigate what really happened to Henry."
"Isn't that already being investigated by the authorities?" Charles asked as the pendulum clock chimed again, this time with an abnormally high-pitched, drawn-out sound.
"I know they're doing their job well, but this... it's more complex than you think. I need someone I've chosen myself, someone I can trust."
Charles frowned slightly. "What do you mean by that?"
Christopher glanced around the room. Even Fiona stepped back slightly. "This... is utmost secrecy. No one can hear it, not even my own people."
He raised his hand to shield his mouth, as if to whisper. "Come closer to me. I don't want to risk anyone hearing even a single word."
Charles hesitated momentarily, wondering what secret could be so sensitive that even his closest bodyguard couldn't hear it. "All right," he answered, leaning in closer.
A soft whisper came, punctuated by the clock's rhythmic chiming. "I trust you, Charles... and I want you to trust me as well... completely. So please tell me everything you know."
As soon as the sentence ended, Charles's pupils dilated slowly. A relaxing sensation spread throughout his body like a warm wave. His tense and cautious mind began to ease.
Christopher retreated to his seat, resuming his elegant posture. A faint smile appeared at the corner of his mouth. "I've heard you're looking for someone. Who is it?"
"Michael Berg..." Charles uttered the name immediately, as if the words escaped without conscious thought.
Christopher stared at him with suddenly intense eyes, the smile that had adorned his face vanishing. "Michael Berg..." he repeated softly.
"Why are you looking for him?" Christopher continued, his voice laden with pressure.
Charles blinked slowly. "It's a mission from the special unit..."
Christopher's pupils dilated slightly, but his gaze remained fixed on the young man before him. "And now... where is Michael?"
"I don't know..."
This answer made Christopher frown, disappointment flashing across his face. He leaned back slowly against his chair, taking a deep breath before changing the question. "In that case... what happened at that temple near the sulfur mine?"
"It was burned down."
"Who burned it?"
"I don't know..." Charles paused briefly before continuing. "But I suspect it was done by the mysterious cloaked figure."
Christopher stared at him for a long time before leaning forward again. "Tell me everything that happened there."
Charles drew a deep breath before systematically recounting events to Christopher. He began with his plan to infiltrate the temple near the sulfur mine, taking advantage of the evening hours and using the heavy rain as cover. He chose to slip in through a slightly open window.
Then he described finding a secret passage leading to the underground chamber, and Michael Berg, the researcher who appeared frightened and exhausted.
The young man explained his attempt to help Michael escape from the temple through the secret passage, recounting the tense pursuit until the appearance of the cloaked figure, and how that person used a sedative injection to render him unconscious.
As Charles spoke, Christopher listened intently, quietly rotating the gold ring on his thumb. But when Charles described how he and Michael had managed to escape, Christopher's expression began to change. His interest seemed to peak when the cloaked figure appeared, causing him to stop rotating his ring and clench his fist. The gold ring shifted slightly, revealing a black stain on his finger.
Charles clearly noticed the black stain—a mark that shouldn't be on the body of someone as meticulously groomed as Christopher.
Suspicion began to grow in Charles's mind, as if something in his consciousness had been awakened. His intellect processed what he saw, while the atmosphere in the room gradually grew more tense.
Charles recalled the incident in the black market when the edge of his pocket watch had tarnished from exposure to a sulfur smoke bomb. Most recently, during the search before entering, he had noticed that the edge of his watch had tarnished again after escaping through the secret passage in the temple. All these events began connecting in his mind.
He remembered his conversation with Humphrey, when he had asked about the true owner of the research. The old man couldn't identify the person but remembered that he wore a large silver ring.
'Silver ore...' Charles thought. 'When it comes into contact with sulfur, it changes color, leaving a black stain.'
His eyes returned to Christopher's finger. The black stain beneath the gold ring shouldn't appear on the finger of a high-ranking nobleman who used only the finest accessories—unless...
'The sulfur mine... the temple... the underground laboratory...' Images connected in Charles's head. 'The sulfur vapor in the air... a silver ring exposed to it... the black stains left behind...'
And another connection emerged in his mind... the story of Henry Blackwell... an ordinary tailor who suddenly had enough money to build a clinic.
'Of course...' Charles thought, clarity dawning. 'Christopher is behind it all... He's the Treasury Director, has the power to allocate budgets, has enough wealth... and Henry was just his front, an unsuspicious person creating the image of a charitable man who helped the poor.'
His heart beat faster. 'The sulfur mine... the clinic... everything is connected. Christopher planned it all meticulously, using his position to handle the finances, using Henry as a front, and using the sulfur mine and clinic to hide his experiments.'
His gaze slowly rose to meet the face of the man before him, who had concealed his secrets so perfectly for years. Everything was clear now...
Christopher Darcy was the true owner of the research.
Their eyes locked, and the atmosphere in the room instantly turned frigid. Charles saw a glint in Christopher's eyes, revealing that his secret had been exposed.
Christopher muttered to himself, "Ah... the mental influence has worn off, hasn't it?"
The young man tried to spring up from his chair, but before he could fully stand, Fiona, who had been silent throughout, rushed forward with incredible speed. Her strong hands pressed down on Charles's shoulders, violently forcing him back into the chair.
He tried to move but couldn't. "What kind of strength is that? Are you really a woman?" Charles complained, while the pendulum clock continued to chime abnormally at intervals.
Hearing the clock again, Charles's mind processed rapidly. He understood now why the clock was broken—or rather, had been deliberately broken—to mask the warning sound from his special unit pocket watch.
"You knew from the beginning that I was from the special unit," Charles stated.
Christopher raised an eyebrow, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Impressive... but tell me, how did you figure it out?"
Charles didn't answer. He struggled to find a way to escape, but the more he resisted, the harder Fiona pressed down, until he had to groan in pain.
"I'll ask again," Christopher said coldly. "How did you know?"
"The clock," Charles answered through gritted teeth. "You knew I was from the special unit. The pendulum clock isn't naturally broken; it was deliberately sabotaged... to mask the warning sound from the special unit pocket watch."
Christopher nodded slowly. "Very good... but it's unfortunate that you're too clever." He stood and walked around the desk, approaching Charles.
"Why?" Charles strained to ask through the pain. "Why are you doing this?"
Christopher stopped walking and looked at the young man with eyes full of determination. "To elevate humanity, Mr. Ravencroft. The evolution of humans to prepare for the end of the world..."
He circled around Charles, who was pinned to the floor. "Ordinary humans are too weak, not ready for the coming disasters. We must elevate them... make them stronger, even if it requires pain."
Charles's eyes widened as he realized the true meaning behind Christopher's words... human evolution, sacrifice, and this mad ideology... the ones with such beliefs.
"You're from the White Tower of Wisdom," Charles uttered slowly.
A faint smile appeared on Christopher's face. "Very clever... as expected of a famous detective. But unfortunately, your intelligence won't help you anymore..."
Charles clenched his jaw, his mind beginning to work rapidly.
"Hréoda!" he shouted the incantation.
Instantly, a shock wave burst from his palm, hitting Fiona with such force that she flew back and crashed into the wall.
Charles didn't waste time. He jumped up immediately, reaching into his pocket for his handkerchief while shouting loudly, "Help!"
But his shout seemed to go unheard, or if anyone heard it, they didn't respond. A moment later, his body was violently struck from behind. Charles fell to the floor, his arm twisted behind his back, his face pressed against the cold stone floor. Fiona, whom he had just pushed away, had returned to attack him fiercely.
Charles tried to struggle again, hoping only to escape Fiona's control. But his resistance only made her apply more pressure.
Her hand gripped the young man's wrist so tightly that he felt his bones might break. The pain increased steadily until he had to cry out.
"Aargh!" Charles's scream echoed throughout the room.
Christopher slowly approached, his form exuding elegance yet danger. His face wore a cold smile as he looked down at Charles pinned to the floor with the eyes of a hunter who had caught his prey.
"Where is Michael?" he asked coldly, nodding for Fiona to increase the pressure.
Charles cried out in pain but continued to struggle. However, the more he resisted, the more Fiona twisted his wrist and pressed his face harder against the floor.
"Tell me," Christopher insisted again. "Or would you prefer to be tortured longer?"
"I don't know!" Charles shouted through the pain.
Fiona increased the pressure until Charles's wrist bones cracked. He moaned in agony.
"Don't be so stubborn, Mr. Ravencroft," Christopher said softly. "Just tell me, and everything will end."
Charles was nearly unconscious. The pain was so overwhelming that he began to think he couldn't endure much longer.
But just as he was about to give up, a voice rang out from the air around them.
"You're still the same scoundrel as before, aren't you?"
The voice was clear but came from nowhere. Christopher froze immediately, his eyes scanning the room. Fiona also stopped, her body shifting slightly in a wary posture.