Chapter 189: The Disappeared Truth
Hearing Mireille’s words, Clark paused in his steps. With Mireille’s voluntary admission, the last trace of doubt in his heart toward her was completely dispelled.
Mireille simply wrapped a cloth strip around her bleeding finger to stop the bleeding, then patted her butt and stood up, smiling as she said: “Hello, law enforcement officer sir. I am Mireille, here to report the criminal secrets of Bluebeard the Count’s castle to you.”
“It really is you.” Clark felt a slight relief in his heart. He glanced at Mireille’s injured finger and said with a hint of apology: “Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. I was just careless.” Mireille shook her head, then looked at Clark’s equally bleeding finger and said with concern, “You’re bleeding too.” With that, she tore another cloth strip from her clothes and stepped forward to bandage Clark.
Clark instinctively wanted to step back and evade, but after lifting the heel of one foot, he quickly planted it back on the ground and ultimately did not dodge, accepting Mireille’s kindness. After she finished bandaging him, he thanked her.
Mireille showed a sweet smile and asked curiously: “Mr. law enforcement officer, may I ask if you have any new discoveries now? Even for you, casually moving corpses like this is illegal, right?”
Clark did not answer this question immediately but asked seriously: “Did you come alone? Did you run into anyone else?”
Hearing this, the smile on Mireille’s face disappeared, revealing a slightly nervous expression. “Actually, I originally wanted to go to your room to find you first, but as you know, where I stay is not far from Miss Hera, just a few rooms apart. To sneak out without being discovered, I kept paying attention to the commotion in Miss Hera’s room. But I discovered that Miss Hera actually left her room before me. Only after seeing her leave did I dare to come out to find you. After discovering you weren’t in your room, I thought you might come here to the Count’s room.”
“Where did Miss Hera go after leaving her room?” Clark raised an eyebrow.
Mireille shook her head. “I don’t know. I didn’t see her on the way here either.”
“What about Butler Valente?” Clark asked again. “Have you looked for him?”
“How could I dare to!” Mireille shrank her neck and shook her head repeatedly, saying weakly, “I feel like Butler Valente has become a bit strange somewhere since the Count died.”
“Strange?” Clark was puzzled. “Tell me more.”
Mireille thought for a moment, looking somewhat uncertain. “It’s just… he seems to have become very forceful… like he doesn’t want to listen to others…”
After hearing Mireille’s words, Clark nodded inwardly. It matched his own feeling. After confirming Bluebeard the Count’s death, Valente’s attitude had indeed undergone a subtle change. His attitude toward others during the day was different from when they first met on the first night—more condescending, as if… with the Count gone, he was the master of the castle, the one in control here.
Since even Mireille could sense such a change in the Count, Clark was certain he had not felt wrong.
Suddenly, without warning, Clark asked: “Did you kill Bluebeard the Count?”
Hearing this, Mireille was stunned for a few seconds, then flushed red and said: “I didn’t! It wasn’t me! Mr. Clark, please believe me.” As she spoke, she seemed wronged and aggrieved, with tears welling in the corners of her eyes.
Clark coughed lightly in some embarrassment. “Sorry, I just asked casually.”
Immediately after, Clark confessed to Mireille the discoveries he had made tonight, quickly diverting her attention.
Mireille’s attention was indeed quickly diverted. After hearing Clark’s discoveries, she looked at him with surprise and adoration. “As expected of Mr. Clark. To notice so many details during the day.”
Clark avoided her overly bright gaze, picked up the military knife, and walked back to the fine hole next to the black painting frame. He held the military knife horizontally and thrust it into the gap. When the entire blade disappeared into the wall, Clark felt the tip hit something, like a switch or the like. With a slight push, the bed board began to shake, the hidden secret door slowly opened, and a secret passage leading underground appeared.
“There really is a secret passage.” Mireille’s eyes shone as she looked at Clark, but seeing the pitch-black secret passage, she somewhat fearfully hid behind Clark, grabbing his sleeve with one hand.
Clark said in a deep voice: “Come on, let’s go down and take a look.”
Holding a lit candlestick, they approached the secret passage below, which was also a spiral corridor leading to some secret space in the castle.
Upon reaching the exit, when Clark lit the oil lamps hanging on the walls on either side of the secret space entrance, the light illuminated part of this room filled with a pungent smell. The terrifying bloody truth impacted their brains like an out-of-control train speeding head-on.
In this dark, sunless secret room, rows upon rows of cabinets were filled with deformed human heads, soaked in containers filled with formalin liquid, staring with unclosed eyes at the two who had intruded into this forbidden land.
“Ah—” Mireille almost screamed but quickly covered her mouth, looking around at everything in terror.
Despite the visual shock of this terrifying scene, for the experienced Clark, it was still bearable. What he cared about now were the mysterious symbols engraved on the containers holding those soaked human heads—symbols for performing demon-subduing techniques, inscriptions praying to the Shadow of All Things.
“How could… Bluebeard the Count also be using the same demon-subduing technique?” Clark was shocked and puzzled, because Bluebeard the Count, who had always been using this demon-subduing technique, had ultimately suffered the same demon-subduing technique.
“What is a demon-subduing technique?” Mireille heard Clark’s mumbling and couldn’t help asking.
Clark did not explain to her but walked with the candlestick to the desk in the room. He used the candle flame to light another candlestick on the desk and handed it to Mireille. “You go look around too, but don’t touch anything randomly. If you need to touch something, notify me first.”
Mireille nodded obediently, took the illuminating candlestick, somewhat afraid and hesitant. But seeing Clark fully focused on flipping through the notebook on the desk, she gritted her teeth and temporarily left his side, hunching her back and vigilantly watching her surroundings.
Clark opened the notebook on the desk, which recorded Bluebeard the Count’s every secret demon-subduing technique session. It contained numerous heavy content, all revealing Bluebeard the Count’s perverted heart. What made Clark’s mood even heavier was that Bluebeard the Count always had an assistant during these demon-subduing techniques, and that assistant was none other than Butler Valente.
“Ah! These people are! These people are!” Mireille seemed to have made another discovery over there. After mustering her courage to get close and observe those bottles and jars, she incredulously retreated a few steps, legs trembling, eyes filled with terrified tears.
Clark tightly gripped the deformed notebook in his hand, looking complexly at the mutilated, deformed heads around him, and said hoarsely: “These are all the people who mysteriously disappeared from the castle. Some were travelers visiting the castle, some were servants in the castle… They didn’t mysteriously disappear; they were cruelly killed by the Count and Valente.”
