Chapter 2564: Dear Detective Mr. 16

The meeting with Sheriff Bruce and John Olga ended in a slightly strange atmosphere.

Bruce thought bringing in the key person somewhat helped the case's progress, but Alrek gave no further comment, politely seeing them out.

Being polite, Bruce pondered and unilaterally announced that this was Alrek showing weakness toward him.

After seeing the guests off, the cylindrical room grew quiet.

Jin Chen stood by the window, watching John Olga's carriage disappear at the end of the street.

They went nowhere else, went to the desk, picked up the previously recorded notes, flipped through them, and reorganized the clues.

The evening sky gradually darkened.

"I need to go out tonight." Jin Chen suddenly said.

Alrek lifted his head from the notes, did not interfere much, and nodded.

"Stay safe." He added, "Do you need help?"

"No need," Jin Chen turned, lightly hugged Alrek, "just a private matter, I'll be back soon."

Alrek asked no further, lowering his head again.

As long as he didn't interfere with the case, he gave Cyril enough space.

Night completely enveloped Buk Port.

Jin Chen alone came to a rather secluded residence.

This building had dark red brick walls, dim light leaking from the windows, and many burly men could be vaguely seen guarding the entrance.

Jin Chen went around the building's rear, using the drain pipe and decorative protrusions, nimbly climbing up to a second-floor window not fully closed.

The room was filled with a strongly nauseating smell: sweet opium aroma, low-quality cigarettes, and a pungent perfume.

A dizzy haze.

Jin Chen pondered for a few seconds, deciding between turning and leaving and turning and leaving.

【？】

Ling Gun Gun timely, 【Host can first block smell!】

Alright.

In the room, John Olga sank deeply into the wide sofa at the center, his legs casually resting on the coffee table.

He closed his eyes, his expression a near-delirious daze, greedily yet painfully inhaling the remaining smoke paste from the small glass lamp.

On the nearby table lay scattered several boxes of opium paste, smoking guns, and other paraphernalia.

A scene of utter chaos.

He was completely immersed in that illusory pleasure until the faintest footsteps approached.

John Olga blinked open his eyes, his blurred gaze turning toward the room's shadows.

In a daze, he saw a figure that could not possibly be here.

Vincent stood silently at the edge of light and shadow, his features indistinct, his expression seeming shrouded in an inescapable sorrow.

"Vincent…?"

John Olga's voice was hoarse to the point of being almost inaudible, trembling with disbelief and the careful fear of disturbing the phantom.

"Is… is it you? You came back to see me?"

Vincent did not answer, merely gazing at him silently; those eyes in the shadow seemed to brim with sorrow, making John Olga's heart clutch violently.

He hastily lowered his head again, taking a deep drag of the remaining smoke from the pipe, trying to let this beautiful phantom linger a bit longer.

Only in the hallucination could he see him again.

"Vincent…" John Olga's voice cracked with tears, lost in the false comfort of opium and immense grief.

"You look at me like that… are you suspecting… that I killed you?"

He shook his head firmly, the pipe slipping from his helpless hand.

"No… it's not me, Vincent, my dear brother… I've thought about it, I really have… best to let you vanish without a trace… but I can't bring myself to do it… I can't…"

John Olga's words grew chaotic, filled with neurotic muttering: "You're too terrible… having Eleanor isn't enough… why also have Joshua? Why… why can't it be me?"

He seemed not to expect an answer, rather lost in his own outburst, fingers tugging hard at his own hair.

"Joshua! That boy who doesn't fit in with us, of unknown origin, would do? Am I not enough? Vincent! This is what you owe me! You should have compensated me with your love! Vincent… speak! Answer me!"

The Vincent standing in the shadow finally spoke softly, sigh‑like, his voice faint and sorrowful.

"Brother."

Just that address made John Olga's tears well up.

"Who killed me? Brother." The voice continued to ask.

"I don't know," John Olga answered blankly, his eyes empty.

"I really don't know… how could you have been killed… you should have died by my hand…"

Vincent: "That night you came to see me, didn't you see the killer?"

"I…" John Olga froze.

A few seconds later, he suddenly jerked awake from the stupor, tried to struggle to his feet, but his body, emptied by opium, was weak and limp; he rose only to collapse back onto the sofa.

His vision began to strain into focus, he looked fearfully at that figure.

"You… who are you…"

John Olga hoarsely murmured, his consciousness gradually pulled from fantasy back to reality.

The 'Vincent' in the shadow stepped forward, entering the dim light.

"Mr John Olga," Jin Chen said in a calm tone, even courteous.

"It's a pleasure to see you again. Although this is… not a very pleasant occasion."

John Olga: "……"

The intoxication and sorrow on his face vanished in an instant, leaving only shock and a deathly, ashen defeat.

He glanced instinctively at the mess on the table that he hadn't had time to tidy, his fingers trembling uncontrollably, his voice dry and hoarse.

"My men are stationed downstairs…… How could they not have noticed you? No one…… has ever been able to break in like this……"

Jin Chen took out a clean handkerchief from his inner suit pocket, lightly folded it, and covered his mouth and nose to block the unpleasant air.

He sat down on the single Sofa opposite John, his posture composed.

"I'm sorry, but your people really couldn't stop me."

Jin Chen said, "In fact, ever since our meeting this morning, I've wanted to come and talk to you alone."

His gaze swept over the opium paraphernalia, "You've been smoking opium…… Perhaps that is one of the reasons Count Olgar ultimately did not choose you as his heir?"

Jin Chen paused briefly, carefully observing the twitching of John's eye corners and his subtle facial expressions, then continued speaking slowly: "Moreover, when you described things to me and Inspector Alaric, you didn't tell the whole truth."

"The latest climbing marks outside Mr. Vincent's study window…… are yours, right?"

After listening, John's facial muscles were distorted as he tried to force a polite or mocking smile, but he only twitched his mouth nervously a few times.

His hand shaking, he reached for his smoke gun again, only to find it already empty.

He finally gave up, slamming his forehead against the back of his hand and letting out a suppressed groan that grew louder with each utterance.

"……Yes! Yes!"

Jin Chen calmly watched his uncontrolled outburst.

"Waiting for John's breathing to ease a little, he then spoke again: "Do you think Young Master Vincent owes you? Is what you're referring to love…… or the Olgar family's inheritance rights?"