?Ambrose leaned against a corner of a building and juggled three small pebbles in the palm of his hand.
He was staring right ahead to the other side of the dirty street, where flowers were placed on the steps of a run-down building.
The building looked like it was in the middle of the construction process, but before it could finish, something happened that caused it to be abandoned and left in its current state of disrepair.
It was Falco Arundell's school for the unfortunate.
On the steps, there were nearly two dozen flowers of various colors. The students of the former school brought the flowers to pay respect for their benefactor.
Ambrose stood silent and then saw a little girl with tears streaming down her face walking to the top step. She then placed a single white rose on the worn stone.
She then turned around and walked away with sadness in her eyes.
Ambrose dropped the pebbles one by one to the ground, then crossed the street, stopped in front of the steps of the run-down house, and looked at the flowers with a heavy heart.
It was as if he could feel Falco's feelings.
"Agh…"
He touched his head and sat down beside the flowers.
He could still feel the remnants of the headache.
The headache happened around an hour ago, and it has lingered ever since.
'I saw Falco's memories.' Ambrose thought. 'It seems that the more I find out about him, the more of his memories I'll receive.'
The memories didn't help him solve the mystery surrounding Falco's death, but they helped him get a better picture of what kind of person he was.
He was born in the Great City as a silvertongue. It was a term used to describe those who were born into decent households. fr(e)ewebnov(e)l.com
He didn't have to worry about having his stomach fed or finding a place to sleep at night.
However, the older Falco got, the more attention he got from the Gold Circle—the term used to refer to the nobles—because of his unusually good looks and charming personality.
Ambrose touched his forehead and remembered Falco's appearance. He looked exactly the same as Ambrose.
Anyone in Falco's shoes would've gotten married to some nice, beautiful lady from Gold Circle and helped his family rise from silvertongue to even higher society.
However, he never wanted that and abandoned that life completely.
Instead, he moved away from the Silver Neighborhood and moved to the slums of the Great City, where he got better at understanding the struggles and hardships faced by the underprivileged.
And then, the memories ended.
Ambrose crossed his arms and sighed.
'He then spent most of his life in the slums, helping the poor, and ended up dying right here.
'If he had chosen a different path, he would be married to a wealthy family and living a life of luxury and comfort.'
Ambrose looked in front of the steps, where his body was apparently found. It was already cleaned from all the blood and evidence.
He then lifted his gaze and looked at the surroundings. There were lots of buildings, alleyways, and streets that had a clear line of sight to the steps.
'It's already quite late, but there are still lots of people walking by.'
Ambrose saw people walking by, all looking dirty and unwashed. This place was the slums, after all, and cleanliness was a luxury that few could afford.
'If he was killed here, how come no one witnessed it? I don't believe it. Maybe someone did, but they are too afraid to come forward.
'However, how come his body was only found in the morning? It's not like there is no light to hide the body in the darkness of the night.'
Ambrose raised his gaze, and there was a street lamp right beside the steps leading up to the house.
'Falco was also silvertongue, and even though he lived in slums, the guards should take the investigation seriously. Unless there is someone higher up pulling up the strings behind the scenes.
'Like the nobleman.'
Ambrose narrowed his eyes and came to a conclusion.
'He wasn't killed here. He was killed somewhere else, and then they dumped his body here in the morning and masked it as nothing but robbery gone wrong.
'This does indeed point towards the nobleman. But who is that nobleman? I need to find his name.'
Ambrose cracked his knuckles, stood up, and turned around to face the school. He then stepped up the steps, put his hand on the doorknob, and pushed the light wooden door open.
The scent of old books and chalk dust greeted him as he stepped inside the house and closed the door behind him.
It was very dark, but he could make out the outlines of furniture and shelves lining the walls.
As he stepped deeper into the house, the headache intensified, and he started remembering Falco's time in this place.
The giggling of children echoed throughout the memory, as did the smiling face of Falco.
Ambrose shook his head and got thrown out of the memory.
Using the memory as a guide, he stepped down the small hallway and found a door at the end. He opened it and entered a small office space filled with stacks of papers and a worn-out desk.
Another memory surfaced, and he started remembering the time when Falco wrote a diary and hid it under the floorboard.
Ambrose crouched, lifted up the floorboard, and discovered the hidden diary, covered in dust and filled with faded ink.
He picked it up, put the floorboard back down, and found a small candle inside a nearby drawer.
He put it on the desk, picked up a matchstick, and lit the candle, illuminating the room with a flickering glow.
Ambrose then spread the diary open and began to read its delicate pages, carefully tracing his finger over the elegant script.
Eventually, he reached the page where Falco spoke about the nobleman.
The nobleman was very rude and wanted to get rid of the school for literally no reason. It clearly made Falco upset, and he refused all offers from the nobleman.
Even when the nobleman offered an astonishing sum that would help Falco build ten of these schools, he refused, and Ambrose knew why.
'Accepting the nobleman's money was the same as killing the children's future. Falco wouldn't be able to help them anymore, even if he wanted to, with that money.
'The nobleman wouldn't have allowed it.'
Ambrose read through the rest of the page and found out the nobleman's name.
'Zane Grimm the Third.'
Ambrose slammed the diary shut and slipped it inside his cloak.
He now had the name for his first subject.
'I'll have to find this Zane. I'll have to be extremely careful, but I have to go back to Martial Online tomorrow as I still have the tournament.
'I'll leave this place for now and finish this off after the tournament. Count your lucky stars, Zane. You may live for now, but justice is coming your way.'
Ambrose looked in front of him and said the magic words, "Log Out."
The blue light engulfed him and made him disappear like a ghost in the wind.
…
"Hihi."
At the cloud above the Great City, a fair-skinned maiden with long, flowing silver hair and sparkling sapphire eyes watched as Ambrose vanished as if she could see straight through buildings.
"Jesse Rothsmith, also known as Ambrose."
She turned around in the cloud, her beautiful body only covered with a thin fabric of ethereal mist.
"Not bad. He is currently leading other 'Murder Victims'. I wonder what his wish is…"
?Ambrose leaned against a corner of a building and juggled three small pebbles in the palm of his hand.
He was staring right ahead to the other side of the dirty street, where flowers were placed on the steps of a run-down building.
The building looked like it was in the middle of the construction process, but before it could finish, something happened that caused it to be abandoned and left in its current state of disrepair.
It was Falco Arundell's school for the unfortunate.
On the steps, there were nearly two dozen flowers of various colors. The students of the former school brought the flowers to pay respect for their benefactor.
Ambrose stood silent and then saw a little girl with tears streaming down her face walking to the top step. She then placed a single white rose on the worn stone.
She then turned around and walked away with sadness in her eyes.
Ambrose dropped the pebbles one by one to the ground, then crossed the street, stopped in front of the steps of the run-down house, and looked at the flowers with a heavy heart.
It was as if he could feel Falco's feelings.
"Agh…"
He touched his head and sat down beside the flowers.
He could still feel the remnants of the headache.
The headache happened around an hour ago, and it has lingered ever since.
'I saw Falco's memories.' Ambrose thought. 'It seems that the more I find out about him, the more of his memories I'll receive.'
The memories didn't help him solve the mystery surrounding Falco's death, but they helped him get a better picture of what kind of person he was.
He was born in the Great City as a silvertongue. It was a term used to describe those who were born into decent households. fr(e)ewebnov(e)l.com
He didn't have to worry about having his stomach fed or finding a place to sleep at night.
However, the older Falco got, the more attention he got from the Gold Circle—the term used to refer to the nobles—because of his unusually good looks and charming personality.
Ambrose touched his forehead and remembered Falco's appearance. He looked exactly the same as Ambrose.
Anyone in Falco's shoes would've gotten married to some nice, beautiful lady from Gold Circle and helped his family rise from silvertongue to even higher society.
However, he never wanted that and abandoned that life completely.
Instead, he moved away from the Silver Neighborhood and moved to the slums of the Great City, where he got better at understanding the struggles and hardships faced by the underprivileged.
And then, the memories ended.
Ambrose crossed his arms and sighed.
'He then spent most of his life in the slums, helping the poor, and ended up dying right here.
'If he had chosen a different path, he would be married to a wealthy family and living a life of luxury and comfort.'
Ambrose looked in front of the steps, where his body was apparently found. It was already cleaned from all the blood and evidence.
He then lifted his gaze and looked at the surroundings. There were lots of buildings, alleyways, and streets that had a clear line of sight to the steps.
'It's already quite late, but there are still lots of people walking by.'
Ambrose saw people walking by, all looking dirty and unwashed. This place was the slums, after all, and cleanliness was a luxury that few could afford.
'If he was killed here, how come no one witnessed it? I don't believe it. Maybe someone did, but they are too afraid to come forward.
'However, how come his body was only found in the morning? It's not like there is no light to hide the body in the darkness of the night.'
Ambrose raised his gaze, and there was a street lamp right beside the steps leading up to the house.
'Falco was also silvertongue, and even though he lived in slums, the guards should take the investigation seriously. Unless there is someone higher up pulling up the strings behind the scenes.
'Like the nobleman.'
Ambrose narrowed his eyes and came to a conclusion.
'He wasn't killed here. He was killed somewhere else, and then they dumped his body here in the morning and masked it as nothing but robbery gone wrong.
'This does indeed point towards the nobleman. But who is that nobleman? I need to find his name.'
Ambrose cracked his knuckles, stood up, and turned around to face the school. He then stepped up the steps, put his hand on the doorknob, and pushed the light wooden door open.
The scent of old books and chalk dust greeted him as he stepped inside the house and closed the door behind him.
It was very dark, but he could make out the outlines of furniture and shelves lining the walls.
As he stepped deeper into the house, the headache intensified, and he started remembering Falco's time in this place.
The giggling of children echoed throughout the memory, as did the smiling face of Falco.
Ambrose shook his head and got thrown out of the memory.
Using the memory as a guide, he stepped down the small hallway and found a door at the end. He opened it and entered a small office space filled with stacks of papers and a worn-out desk.
Another memory surfaced, and he started remembering the time when Falco wrote a diary and hid it under the floorboard.
Ambrose crouched, lifted up the floorboard, and discovered the hidden diary, covered in dust and filled with faded ink.
He picked it up, put the floorboard back down, and found a small candle inside a nearby drawer.
He put it on the desk, picked up a matchstick, and lit the candle, illuminating the room with a flickering glow.
Ambrose then spread the diary open and began to read its delicate pages, carefully tracing his finger over the elegant script.
Eventually, he reached the page where Falco spoke about the nobleman.
The nobleman was very rude and wanted to get rid of the school for literally no reason. It clearly made Falco upset, and he refused all offers from the nobleman.
Even when the nobleman offered an astonishing sum that would help Falco build ten of these schools, he refused, and Ambrose knew why.
'Accepting the nobleman's money was the same as killing the children's future. Falco wouldn't be able to help them anymore, even if he wanted to, with that money.
'The nobleman wouldn't have allowed it.'
Ambrose read through the rest of the page and found out the nobleman's name.
'Zane Grimm the Third.'
Ambrose slammed the diary shut and slipped it inside his cloak.
He now had the name for his first subject.
'I'll have to find this Zane. I'll have to be extremely careful, but I have to go back to Martial Online tomorrow as I still have the tournament.
'I'll leave this place for now and finish this off after the tournament. Count your lucky stars, Zane. You may live for now, but justice is coming your way.'
Ambrose looked in front of him and said the magic words, "Log Out."
The blue light engulfed him and made him disappear like a ghost in the wind.
…
"Hihi."
At the cloud above the Great City, a fair-skinned maiden with long, flowing silver hair and sparkling sapphire eyes watched as Ambrose vanished as if she could see straight through buildings.
"Jesse Rothsmith, also known as Ambrose."
She turned around in the cloud, her beautiful body only covered with a thin fabric of ethereal mist.
"Not bad. He is currently leading other 'Murder Victims'. I wonder what his wish is…"
