Free Web NovelChapter 485: Arc 6, Chapter 101: Sins of the Father
"We let you go in peace, thankful for all you have been and the memories you have left behind," the rites came to a close as the funeral director took a bow.
There laid a coffin of beautiful oaken wood with the lid slanted at the side. Thundering blitzes lined the sides in the form of bouquets, wreaths or single blooms.
He wore a well-made suit; his body was prepared and cleaned up well. A bandage was wound around his head to cover the eyes as to not showcase a grim sight.
The sweet nitrogenous scent filled her lungs with every breath she took. Fumeko had her chair next to the catafalque that held up the coffin. She rested her crossed arms and forehead on the coffin’s edge, right before her father’s legs.
A black coat was laid onto her back, alongside a hand that gently patted it. Fumeko raised her head and looked around.
"Come on kid," Morgana uttered.
The brunette faced her father’s head again and stared for a long while. Behind her were pews set in a mostly vacant funeral house; those attending wore black for the most part; Fumeko herself wore the same attire he dressed her in.
As if chains weighed her down, Fumeko lifted herself up from the chair to stand. She held the black coat with a finger, while Morgana gave her a moment, and then walked her out.
Tiffany, dressed less extravagantly than usual, noticed the brunette leaving and stood up from a pew to follow. Hotaru had her head leaned on Asobi’s shoulder. "The smell’s giving me a headache," the redhead muttered with a frown. freёwebnovel.com
The doors to the funeral house opened and the flower’s fragrance was whisked away with the scent of the sea. Cloudy skies and waves beating against the shoreline.
Morgana shunned away from the morning light. Briefly hovering a hand over her face, she fished a pair of sunglasses out of her pocket and wore them over her dark circle-marked eyes.
Ten in the morning; a peaceful view from Mason Island, overlooking the edge of the Dolpool mainland on the other side. ’I’ll end it. All of it. The cult doesn’t get to live.’
Fumeko took a deep breath and slowly sat down on the cement stairs. Her heels pushed into the sand. "What now?" she whispered.
Morgana folded her arms and gazed at the view. "...Don’t blame yourself. Bad things thrive in the world and our loved ones ain’t immune. We need to keep moving."
"Moving where?"
"Wish I knew."
’...Jotou; Kineko. I need to get them before-’ Fumeko deflated, her face falling to her knees. "I’m useless."
"You ain’t useless kid, that’s the grief talking."
"Fwshing-shtck!" Fumeko spun the purple dagger between her fingers and flung it into the greyish sand, where it stuck. The brunette glared at the dagger and the open hand that threw it.
Her eyes narrowed, and narrowed, and narrowed- ’Bzz!’ "Ngh," her fingers curled in and her eyes shut. That paralyzing sensation again. She brushed it off with an exhale and stared at the dagger, wedged in the same place.
Morgana observed. "So what? Your dad didn’t have a single speck of magic, you calling him useless?"
"No, but at least my dad had something. Half the things I did, more than half the things I was able to do was cause I had an affinity. Now? Now!?" she did not shout, although as her voice rose, she let it go; her shoulders fell. "I don’t know. It felt like it was the only way I was going to—was going to get a leg up on him."
"Maybe it is like how you say, maybe it ain’t. But I’d still bet you just need some time."
"I can’t even figure out how to fix my magic."
Morgana saw the brunette continue to wallow and stare off at the dagger in the sand. Instead of trying to get her to stand, she simply sealed her lips and stared ahead as well.
...
The previously distant sound of horse hooves and carriage wheels drew in much closer. Morgana cocked her head to the side and recognized the emblems all over the incoming banners.
"Eyes up kid; the grand alderman’s here," Morgana uttered.
’...Won’t the grand alderman being here draw more attention?’ Fumeko lifted herself off the stairs.
The carriages wheeled through the sand; the horses neighed to a stop. A few GAS agents quickly marched out and opened up the middle of the three carriages, from which Lady Pinberry herself walked out, dressed in all black.
The grand alderman shifted her short mourning veil aside, "Hello Ms Namora; Detective Aetherton." freeωebnovēl.c૦m
"Morning ma’am. Unfortunately, you missed the service, but he’s still inside," Morgana stated.
"I shall pay my respects," she gave a nod then looked to the brunette. "My condolences Ms Namora. He was a good man and served Burnetrout exceptionally; the nation will certainly feel the impact of his loss."
’He doesn’t belong to the nation, he’s my dad—not some martyr.’ "I’m sure it will," Fumeko muttered.
A secretary dressed in black presented a document she unclipped from her clipboard to the grand alderman, who proceeded to hand said document to Morgana.
Morgana pushed up her sunglasses so they could rest on her forehead. She gave a brief skim of the paper and furrowed her brows.
Lady Pinberry then went on to say, "I understand the burdens of the responsibility I entrust onto my selected detectives. However, to the best lies the heaviest to bear.
If you wish to relinquish the position to another colleague, I leave that to your purview; I only ask that they are currently present and able-bodied for we are in the worst of times."
Morgana closed her eyes and inhaled. "I would’ve preferred to get this when he was still alive. I can barely get a reaction now," her dreary joke was mostly for herself.
’...Morgana’s the greatest detective in Burnetrout now. Everyone would’ve shifted up positions with two detectives dead. Eight left. ...Eight left because the cult hasn’t decided to execute them yet...’
"I apologize Ms Namora. Even in this state of emergency, I cannot so swiftly appoint you to the position of detective."
Fumeko glanced up to Lady Pinberry, "I wasn’t thinking that."
"Apologies for my misunderstanding then. However, there are other matters I wish to discuss with you about. I understand you are currently in mourning, however if a meeting could be arranged within this week or the next, I would appreciate it."
"...Yeah, sure. I’ll contact you when I can."
"I thank you in advance for your time. Now if you shall excuse me, I shall pay my respects onto the dearly departed. Ms Namora; Detective Aetherton," flanked by GAS agents, Lady Pinberry entered the funeral house.
Morgana gave the document a more thorough read, while Fumeko glanced through the gap between the horses and the carriage at her dagger in the sand.
Mere minutes later, the door opened again and out came Alicia in a black suit, "Psst, hey, sorry, can I get-"
"No," Morgana replied without hesitation as she patted the reporter’s confiscated camera that was tucked under her coat. "You can wait till after she leaves and run after the carriages if you really want."
Alicia sighed and placed a hand to her hips, "You really are as cruel as they come detective."
"I can be worse, but now ain’t the time."
"Well, I’m not the one eavesdropping on you f’the past ten minutes," Alicia pouted to the side.
"I was just waiting for her to come out," Fumeko uttered and side-eyed the door.
...
Tiffany peeked out the door, "S-sorry, I didn’t want to in-nterrupt. Then I didn’t r-really know when t-to- Never mind," she slipped out the door and joined them. "A-and for the record, I don’t think you’re useless."
Fumeko chose not to respond.
The doors opened again, and this time Detective Rose walked out, patting her eyes with a white cloth. She sniffled and wrapped her arms around the short brunette, "You sweet thing; I’m so sorry."
’How many people are gonna keep coming through that door?’ The somewhat irritated Fumeko sighed as she was embraced from behind. ’I wish I could just... blink.’ However much her want was, not a sliver of shadow came to grant it. "You can let me go now."
Rose took a step back with an inhale, "Hard to believe he’s gone... He helped so much," she refrained from adding ’me’ to the sentence.
Morgana put her arm around Rose and pulled her in, letting her rest her head on her shoulder.
Rose gladly took the shoulder to lean on. "Isn’t Diana coming?"
"Don’t know, haven’t heard from her."
"She’s going to be late, I’m sure," Rose mentioned. "That-" merely an annoyed breath stopped the reply.
"Should be news to her she’s now third; you’re fourth. We’ve all moved up a bit," Morgana waved the document handed to her.
Rose let out a dry chuckle that cleared up her throat.
"That what the alderman herself came here for? Couldn’t give it a tick on the clock could she," Alicia stated.
"I can also give this to anyone, if they wanna be the first that is," Morgana told.
"I don’t fancy being a target, but here we are," Rose shook her head. "Clearly the position doesn’t matter, I’m already attending two funerals today."
"Is that a no?" Morgana raised a brow.
"You keep it darling; offer it to Heath, I’m sure he’d love it," Rose said with a roll of her eyes.
Tiffany eyed the document; her gaze then fell on Fumeko, who she promptly slinked up to. She leaned forward and hushed into her ear, "Why don’t you take it?"
’...Her lip’s on my ear...’ Fumeko tilted her head to the side. "I don’t deserve that title." ’She doesn’t need to be this close...’
"What? You’re his daughter and are a detective; this seems like an opportunity."
’...’ Fumeko’s face relaxed and reality settled back around her. "Thanks for the support... but I really can’t take it," she whispered. ’What if I do and it ends up getting more people killed.’
Tiffany pulled back from her, "Sorry, I shouldn’t have even brought it up-"
To the blonde’s surprise, a hand reached back to grab hers and held it tightly. Fumeko said without turning her head, "Stay."
Tiffany’s eye darted around in a slight panic. She slowly reciprocated the gesture and gripped the brunette’s hand back.
"Speaking of targets, based on your expert opinions, should I be filing for a firearm licence sometime soon?" Alicia’s voice trembled.
"Soon’s a bit too late," Morgana folded her arms.
Alicia gulped.
Rose patted the reporter on the shoulder sympathetically, "Oh darling, they don’t kill messengers. Lest of course you deal with gangsters—or cultists."
Alicia nervously fidgeted with the tools on her bracelet. "No point in having fear this deep in now, innit?" she steeled herself. She hummed and adjusted her spectacles, "I know it all seems bleak little detective, but we can keep it together. The cult’s gonna regret what they’ve done."
’Regret?’ "They don’t know the meaning of the word," Fumeko leered over her shoulder. "But they’re gonna pay..." ’But.’ "With Jotou missing and dad dead, is there even any hope..." her grip on Tiffany weakened.
"Course there is! It’s ’bout time the new gods fall from the clouds, they only got four of em’ left," Alicia spun her words with a little more cheer.
"I guess..."
"Ain’t it about time to shut your trap? Unrelated question, how’s your camera do in the sand?" Morgana glared to the side.
"Alright, alright, let’s not get hasty here," Alicia put her hands up.
Morgana turned to the brunette, "Kid, I didn’t know when to tell you this. Right before Forallei busted into the company, the detective was working on something. Something to do with the attack on the courthouse and the intended target.
Your father believed there was a reason why the cult only killed the chief justice by surprise and not anyone else of importance. He refused to accept that that aligned with the cult’s modus operandi.
My head hasn’t been hunting the cult till recently; his hunt’s been nearly two decades long. I needed to get his work, but his office’s more wrecked than a bird’s nest in a whirlwind. If you need something to busy your eyes with or don’t know where to start."
"I will," Fumeko replied. ’Dad was thinking about the attack on the courthouse...? ... ... ...’
"And going off of that, we should also be under the assumption that the Deuctus Cult is in possession of a Class 7-Type 3 M.I.D. If they can reverse engineer Detective Namora’s pistol, they only need time to replicate and mass produce it.
Unless of course, they don’t got it for whatever reason, but that’s a dangerous oversight to make, ain’t it?" Morgana’s green eyes pierced right through Fumeko.
"We should assume the worst," Fumeko replied and covered her skirt line with both her arm and Tiffany’s.
Morgana gave it a few more seconds, then lowered her sunglasses.
Another carriage pulled up in front of the funeral house, parking right behind the carriages of the grand alderman. Only this one was much less extravagant and had specific colours and an emblem on it...
Two Dolpool police officers descended from the carriage and rushed up to the funeral home, "Fumeko Namora?"
Fumeko let go of Tiffany’s hand, "What is it?"
"You’re under arrest for suspicion and connection to the murder of Kazuo Namora," one presented the warrant of arrest while the other unbuckled a pair of handcuffs.
"Please put your hands behind your back and come with us," one approached.
Fumeko’s brows furrowed, "Are you kidding!?"
"Excuse meee~" Alicia jumped ahead, but was strongarmed away by the policemen. "Woah, handsy there."
Morgana sighed and slipped Alicia her camera back, "Hold up, let me check that warrant there."
"Police business miss- detective," one of them cleared their throat and presented the document anyway. Alicia quickly fiddled with her device.
"I’ll be going with you then," Morgana replied.
’...’ "It’s fine, I’ll go. I don’t wanna be here anyway," Fumeko complied. "No handcuffs, I’m coming," she simply walked towards the carriage.
However, not before kicking the back of Tiffany’s knee to get her attention and point her about-to-scowl face to the dagger in the sand.
"That’s fine," the policeman put the handcuffs back. "But no visitors till noon. We have questions."
"Oh come on little detective-"
"It’s fine," Fumeko grumbled at Alicia as she walked past. ’What have these clowns come up with.’
