A massive cruise ship sailed steadily over the vast sea. Inside one of its washrooms, Dorothy’s miniature corpse marionettes slipped through the ventilation system, bringing a live feed of the scene directly to her.
This was a seemingly ordinary public washroom located in the residential level beneath the deck, designated for several mid-tier passenger cabins. The space wasn’t particularly large, and the decor was average—clean and decently maintained, but otherwise unremarkable.
Of course, that was only what met the eye. After Dorothy activated a Scent-Tracking Sigil, the room revealed its hidden truth: a strong residual scent of blood. The smell was concentrated around one of the toilets. Though it looked perfectly clean, in Dorothy’s perception, a massive amount of fresh blood had very recently been poured into it and flushed away.
“This place… the residual smell is intense. It reeks of blood… Was someone drained completely and dumped in here? And mixed into that blood… is a thick, pungent trace of Chalice compound. High-concentration Chalice-infused blood… Just what exactly was flushed down here…?”
Sensing the aura in the washroom, Dorothy quickly connected the dots. The highly concentrated Chalice compound that had entered the ship’s sewage—and thus the sea—likely came from this very place. Someone had dumped the substance down the toilet and cleaned up the scene. Based on the residual traces, Dorothy judged it was likely some especially vile “Chalice” item.
…
The next morning, Dorothy sat up in her cabin, yawning and stretching toward the rising sun outside her porthole. After rubbing her eyes, she reconnected with her distributed marionettes to check on Cabin 417.
Still no sign of anyone. Every detail remained exactly as it was the night before. No one had returned.
Whoever had stayed in 417 was now almost certainly dead.
The investigation had stalled. With no new leads, Dorothy briefly considered giving up—but then she remembered what had happened aboard the Shimmering Pearl, and quickly abandoned the thought.
“No… It’s not time to give up. A missing passenger, Chalice compound, blood traces… all signs point to a Chalice cult. And on the sea, that likely means the Abyssal Church. If they really are planning another full-ship sacrifice, and I don’t stop them in time—things could get very bad. I can’t let my guard down…”
“Besides—crushing cults is a pretty decent side hustle. I am running low on resources, and I could really use a bit of supplemental income right now…”
Dorothy smirked at the thought. With resolve restored, she took a coin from her pocket. Whispering her divination incantation, she flipped it high into the air.
“The guest of Cabin 417 aboard this ship… has already been killed.”
She caught the coin and revealed its face—heads. A clear answer.
Next, she brought out pen and paper and drew a detailed multi-level blueprint of the entire cruise ship. Then she prepared for pendulum divination to locate the killer. But this time—the magic failed.
Whoever was responsible was under anti-divination protection.
“Anti-divination, huh… Looks like we’re not dealing with some low-level flunky.”
Dorothy muttered to herself. After a pause, she opened her magic box, connecting with her array of humanoid corpse marionettes. With a slight grin, she murmured.
“Looks like it’s time to bring back an old trick…”
…
In the late morning, just after breakfast, the cruise ship’s passengers began their second day of leisure. Crew members resumed their duties, bustling around the ship. Inside the bridge, the captain—William, a man in a crisp white uniform with a graying beard—stood by the window. His worn hands held a sea chart as he studied the map and confirmed the ship’s current course.
At that moment, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed from outside. A young man dressed as a steward ran into the bridge in a panic. His sudden entrance drew everyone’s attention as heads turned toward him.
“Mr. William… Where’s Mr. William?!”
“I’m right here. What’s going on that’s got you running like that?”
Captain William frowned and responded. The steward, upon seeing him, rushed over and leaned in to whisper something in his ear. William’s expression darkened immediately, his face growing grave.
“When did this happen?” he asked.
“Just now! A guest staying next to Cabin 417 noticed a strong odor and complained to us. We knocked, but no one answered, so we used the master key to open the door, and then we found…”
The young steward looked uneasy as he explained. William’s face stiffened.
“Take me there. Now.”
…
Following the steward’s lead, Captain William descended to the mid-tier cabin level of the ship. After navigating a few corridors, they arrived at a hallway where another steward stood guard. Upon seeing the captain, the steward immediately stepped aside, allowing William to enter.
Inside the corridor, William saw a crowd had gathered in front of Cabin 417. There were sailors, stewards, and a few anxious passengers. William quickly stepped forward, and the group made way for him.
Reaching the doorway of Cabin 417, William looked inside—and froze.
The room was a disaster. Blood soaked the carpet. In the middle of it lay a naked, blood-covered male corpse. His body was covered in visible wounds, with countless slashes across his face, rendering his features unrecognizable. The air reeked of blood, and the scene was gruesome.
“…Who did this?”
William inhaled sharply, his voice tight. A calm voice answered him—from inside the cabin.
“A cruel killer. A murderer who is still hiding aboard.”
William turned toward the voice. In the corner of the room stood a tall man facing the wall, as if inspecting something. He wore a fitted short trench coat and a low hat, concealing much of his features.
“Who are you? You can’t just walk into a crime scene!”
William barked, but the steward beside him quickly interjected.
“Captain, this gentleman identified himself as a detective. He was the one who told us to seal off the area immediately and instructed us to notify you.”
“Detective…”
William’s brows furrowed with confusion. At that moment, the man in the corner turned around.
Before him stood a pale-skinned man with a hooked nose, deep-set eyes, and a lean face. He approached and extended his hand politely.
“Pleasure to meet you, Captain. My name is Ed, a detective. I happened upon this murder case by chance just earlier and, without your permission, took the liberty of instructing your crew to secure the scene and suppress the news. I hope you’ll forgive the overstep.”
He shook William’s hand with a courteous demeanor. William, caught off guard, froze for a moment before muttering.
“Ed… Detective… That name sounds familiar…”
“Hehe, judging by your accent, Captain, you’re from Pritt, aren’t you? If you returned to Tivian last year, you might’ve heard of me,” Ed replied with a smile.
With that, recognition dawned on William.
“Oh! I remember now! I read about you in a Tivian newspaper. Detective Ed—the one who cleared the name of dancer Adèle! The very same one she publicly thanked and praised! If I recall correctly, Adèle said you were the smartest person she’d ever met.”
“Haha… Miss Adèle was being too generous. I only did what I could.”
Ed smiled humbly. His words prompted murmurs among the surrounding crew and passengers, who began eyeing him with admiration. William’s unease eased slightly.
“I didn’t expect a famous detective like you to be aboard… And right when a murder happened too. What luck.”
He glanced from the corpse to Ed, then added.
“I’ve been at sea for years and rarely encounter situations like this. But I know one thing—if a dangerous murderer is still aboard, it’s a serious risk to everyone. Mr. Ed, would you be able to catch the culprit?”
“Of course. That’s exactly my responsibility. But to succeed, I’ll need your full cooperation—and that of your crew.”
“Absolutely. We’ll assist you however we can.”
Hearing Captain William’s commitment, Dorothy, watching from within her own cabin, smiled faintly.
With practiced precision, she had just gained full access to the crew’s cooperation.
The "corpse" in Cabin 417? Merely one of Dorothy’s corpse marionettes.
By faking its “death,” she had deliberately dragged what would have been a silent and hidden crime into the spotlight. Her goal was to earn the right to mobilize the crew, granting her greater authority to investigate the ship’s secrets.
And with that, the true hunt could begin.