Chapter 55: Murder Investigation.
Vincent calmly walked toward Damien, the black miasma lingering around them had already begun thinning, gradually dissolving into the cold air. His polished shoes came to a stop beside the overturned wheelchair.
Damien instinctively tensed. His fingers subtly tightened around the haft of his axe. Although he doubted he could even swing it properly in his current state, simply holding onto it gave him a faint sense of reassurance.
Vincent looked down at him for a brief moment before quietly extending a gloved hand.
"I believe we started off on the wrong foot, Damien. First impressions can be... misleading. Why don’t we put this unpleasant misunderstanding behind us? I have a feeling you and I have far more in common than either of us would care to admit."
Damien simply stared.
His expression remained blank, but his mind had gone completely still. After several long seconds, he cautiously accepted the offered hand.
Vincent effortlessly pulled him back onto his feet before setting the wheelchair upright. He even brushed a small patch of snow from the seat with surprising care before helping Damien lower himself back into it, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened only moments earlier.
Damien continued watching him without saying a word.
"What the hell is wrong with this guy? First he nearly kills me, then he helps me back into my wheelchair and suddenly wants to be friends. Only a complete lunatic would think that’s how friendships are supposed to begin... Actually. Only a complete lunatic would want to be friends with Vincent in the first place.
"Vincent, I have no interest in being your friend. I know it looks like I’m not in any condition to fight, but if you push me to the edge, I’m confident in my ability to hurt you before you can kill me."
Vincent’s smile never faltered.
"Oh I’ve already come to that conclusion."
He lightly dusted his gloves together, as though the conversation had become considerably more pleasant.
"Which is precisely why I believe you and I should be friends. A relationship built upon mutual danger is often far more sincere than one built upon mutual trust."
Damien stared at him.
Once again, he found himself completely incapable of understanding the man’s train of thought.
Does he even hear the words coming out of his own mouth?
For the first time, Damien felt he understood Yuri and the others a little better. Whenever he spoke, they probably experienced this exact same feeling. No matter how carefully they tried to follow his reasoning, they eventually reached a point where they simply gave up and accepted that he operated according to a logic all his own.
"So he doesn’t want to fight anymore, that’s good. Summoning over a hundred undead in the middle of camp would completely ruin my steadily improving rep".
Vincent clasped both hands behind his back before leisurely strolling a slow circle around Damien’s wheelchair.
"Tell me, Damien."
His tone remained as refined as ever.
"Would you care to help me find Leslie’s killer? With the two of us working together, I’m quite certain we can bring her murderer to justice."
Damien’s eyelid twitched.
"Why the hell will I help you do that? There’s still a chance I may have played a role in her death, not to mention Paige. I should just lay low for the time being, recover my strength and prepare for the Eidolon army".
Without waiting for Damien’s permission, Vincent casually turned the wheelchair around and rested both hands on the handles.
The wheels began rolling softly across the packed snow. Damien frowned but made no attempt to stop him. After giving it some thought, he reached a rather simple conclusion.
He wanted absolutely nothing to do with Leslie’s murder.
"Look, dude. I’m not interested in playing Sherlock Holmes. If you want to find out who killed Leslie, then do it yourself."
Vincent continued pushing the wheelchair at the same leisurely pace, his expression as composed and cheerful as ever.
"Don’t be so quick to wash your already dirty hands free of the matter. Who knows. perhaps uncovering Leslie’s killer may prove beneficial to you as well."
Damien’s eyebrow twitched.
Why is this bastard so persistent? All I wanted was a little peace and quiet. Eat Claire’s horrendous cooking, have Yuri massage my torn tendons, and enjoy my evening strolls with Hannah... the simple pleasures of life. I’d say I’ve earned at least that much".
He let out a long sigh before giving up on trying to understand Vincent’s thought process.
"Where exactly are you taking me?"
Vincent didn’t bother making up an excuse. It wasn’t as though Damien could simply stand up and walk away.
"I’m taking you to Leslie’s burnt tent."
The wheelchair continued rolling forward.
"If we’re going to investigate her death, then naturally we should begin at the scene of the crime."
Damien hissed through his teeth.
"I never agreed to join your investigation."
"I know."
Vincent answered without the slightest hesitation.
The smile on his face remained exactly the same as he continued pushing the wheelchair through the camp, completely unconcerned by Damien’s opinion on the matter.
Before long, the two arrived at what had once been a medium-sized tent.
Or at least, It used to be. Now, nothing remained except an open patch of blackened earth littered with burnt scraps of cloth, charred wood, and ash that had long since gone cold.
Vincent didn’t slow down.
He casually pushed Damien’s wheelchair straight into the middle of the burnt remains.
Damien’s face immediately darkened.
"This idiot doesn’t have the faintest idea what a crime scene is. If there had actually been any evidence left, he’d probably rolled over half of it already".
Near the center lay the scorched remains of what appeared to have once been a bedframe. Burnt into it was the unmistakable outline of a human body.
Damien narrowed his eyes.
"Was she sleeping?".
The mark wasn’t distorted, there were no signs of movement, no indication that whoever had been there had struggled, crawled away, or even attempted to escape.
It looked almost as though Leslie had remained exactly where she was while the flames consumed her.
Damien’s expression gradually became more serious.
"Is she a block of wood, why would she just let herself burn to death, can anyone even burn to death without writhing in pain?".
He slowly turned toward Vincent.
"What can you tell me about Leslie’s Dormant Ability?"