Chapter Thirty-Two: Reflection

After Ivy left, Ethan pulled over a small chair and sat before the pile of debris in the living room to sort through Roxane’s belongings. Miss Chloe found a corner, curled herself into a ball, and tucked her head into her wing feathers to doze off.

The pile of debris consisted mostly of dilapidated furniture. Ethan placed the detector at his feet, but after searching for half an hour, he had nothing to show for it.

Finding nothing, he dragged a hard cot back into the bedroom. He lay flat on it, staring idly at the ceiling beams above, with the detector placed beside his head, and drifted into a hazy sleep.

He slept until deep into the night, only to be awakened by Miss Chloe.

A soft "cooing" sound came from the living room. Ethan lay on the cot and listened intently; the sound was gentle, as if she were communicating with someone.

His gaze shifted to the detector beside his head. The needle was pointing toward the yellow zone, and it occasionally emitted the static noise of a television tuned to a dead channel.

Before dawn, this haunted house finally manifested a faint field wave, which meant that Mr. Roxane might have returned home.

When Ethan walked out of the bedroom, he found Miss Chloe standing behind a translucent figure, head tilted in curiosity. She tried to attract the figure's attention with cooing sounds, but the man, who remained in a seated position as if resting on thin air, seemed entirely unaware of her presence.

Miss Chloe stood on her tiptoes and tried to nudge the man’s back with her head, but she passed straight through his body.

"Coo?"

She was even more confused.

Although the man wore a clown mask and a circus uniform, she recognized him. Mr. Roxane was a kind man who would occasionally visit the coop to feed her breadcrumbs and candy; on her personal list of favorites, Roxane was second only to Ethan.

"Don't disturb Mr. Roxane. He is busy."

Hearing Ethan’s call, Miss Chloe nodded blankly and retreated to the corner of the room, looking back with every step. Mr. Roxane looked strange today, and she did not like this feeling.

Ethan sighed. Miss Chloe would likely find it difficult to understand the scene before her—why would people return to their homes after they had died?

*A Guide to 100 Dark Creatures* contained records of such occurrences. The demon hunter Augustus had once encountered a similar ghost-like entity while passing through a small mountain village. The clients were an elderly couple whose daughter had never returned home after leaving a few days prior; ever since then, strange events had been occurring in their house.

Augustus named this phenomenon a "Reflection." According to his research, they were not ghosts but rather supernatural images. These images lacked independent consciousness, could not communicate with the living, and would not attack anyone. Their sole behavior was to repeat certain actions from their lives.

Reflections do not last long, usually dissipating within three to five days; they are the final traces the deceased leave behind in this world.

Augustus believed that the appearance of a Reflection indicated that the deceased felt they had unfinished business before they died.

Ethan found a table in the debris and pushed it in front of the Reflection, then added a chair for it to sit on. This way, he could roughly judge Roxane’s actions.

Roxane was flipping through an object, occasionally picking up a pen to add a few words. Even though the clown mask obscured his face, from the way he turned the pages and wrote, it was clear that his mood was becoming increasingly restless.

This meant he did this every day.

Returning home in the dead of night, exhausted, he would sit at the table to flip through this item before he even had time to take off his mask or costume.

After ten minutes, Roxane slammed the object shut, tossed the pen aside, and slumped back into the chair. He tilted his head back, staring at the apartment ceiling for a long time. Then, he braced himself, slapped his face hard, and seemed to say something.

Finally, he picked up the object from the table and walked into the bedroom.

It was the spot directly facing the hard cot, just two steps away from where Marshall had contracted the laughing sickness. He placed the object inside.

Ethan was certain that the object Roxane had stored was not in the debris pile; there was nothing there that resembled a book.

That left only one other possibility.

When the Imperial Federal Reserve cleared out Roxane’s apartment, they were the only ones to take the books and the container holding them. This might be the direct cause of Marshall’s laughing sickness.

Marshall was not an honest man.

Even when he was affected by a cursed object and sent a distress letter to the Gear City Containment Bureau, he hadn't told the truth in the letter. He had never mentioned any books in Roxane’s apartment. Ethan suddenly recalled the target Ivy had mentioned—she had come to a godforsaken frontier town like Creekwood specifically to find a book of magic.

Could Roxane have accidentally obtained this magic book?

Ethan stopped thinking. He didn't intend to waste his brain cells on wild speculation. As long as he had confirmed that Marshall was withholding information from the Containment Bureau, he could leave the rest to Ivy. He believed that even if Marshall refused to cooperate, Ivy would have ways to make him talk.

Ivy collected many magic scrolls and potions. Ethan had heard of a potion called "Truth Serum"; just a single drop in water was enough to make Marshall reveal the darkest secrets buried deep in his heart. It was far more efficient than any 21st-century polygraph.

"Miss Chloe, let's go. We’re going to report to the boss!"

Receiving the order, Miss Chloe glanced one last time toward the bedroom, just in time to see Roxane’s shadow grow fainter until it vanished into thin air before her eyes.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she walked toward the door, turning back to look every few steps.

Miss Chloe had a sharp nose and great strength; she could run fast even with a person on her back. However, this time she did not head straight for Ivy’s luxury apartment, but toward the bar in the neighborhood. The bar had a "closed" sign hanging on the door, but a faint light could be seen inside.

"Lady Rose, we—"

Ethan pushed the door open, but the sight inside the bar made his words catch in his throat.

He had found Ivy, but his timing was poor.

Ivy was holding a gun with both hands, pointing it at the bartender. The boss had his hands raised above his head in terror. Ethan’s entry interrupted the standoff, and both of them turned their gazes toward him at the doorway.

"Miss Chloe."

Ethan whispered sternly, "Go stand guard at the door. Don't let anyone in."

Miss Chloe took the order and stood guard at the door, bold and imposing like a temple guardian.

Ethan walked quickly to the bar counter. Under the gaze of the two, he put on leather gloves to ensure he left no fingerprints. Then, he opened the cash drawer behind the bar, took out the gold lions and silver antelopes inside, and scattered them across the counter.

"...What are you doing?"

Ivy’s eyelids twitched violently.

"Faking the scene," Ethan tugged at his gloves, like a true professional. "Making it look like a case of robbery and murder."

"You get over there, too."

The dark muzzle of the gun turned toward Ethan. Ivy bit her lower lip until it bled. "Hands above your head!"