Mystery: Gray Walker

Chapter 107 Official Mission

Green hurriedly left the port authority and hailed a horse-drawn carriage to go to St. George Street.

When he stepped into St. George's Hospice again, Mrs. Peggy, the gentle middle-aged woman at the front desk, clearly recognized him and nodded with a smile.

"Good morning, Mr. Morris. Consultant Lake is waiting for you in the training room."

"Thank you, Mrs. Peggy."

Green walked through the familiar corridor, pushed open the door marked "Recreation Room," and then skillfully found the secret door leading to the underground base.

Inside the underground base, Rick was already standing in the center of the training field. He was wearing a dark gray training uniform that allowed for easy movement, his thick arms crossed over his chest. When he saw Green enter, he simply nodded.

"Change your clothes." Rick pointed to a locker next to him. "There are training clothes in there."

Green quickly changed his clothes. He wore the same dark gray training suit as Laker, which was durable and allowed for free movement.

"Fighting Basics, Lesson One"

Rick's voice echoed in the empty training room, "The Night Watchmen face not only evil spirits and monsters, but also the living. Sometimes, the living are more dangerous than monsters."

He walked to the center of the training field and assumed a simple starting stance.

"Watch closely. These are the most basic defensive stances and footwork. Your 'Apprentice' abilities have an advantage in movement, but your body is too weak. When facing fast enemies, or when your abilities are countered, you need to know how to use your body to protect yourself."

The next two hours were pure torture for Green.

Rick's teaching style is simple and brutal.

Demonstrate, then have Green repeat, correct, and repeat again.

Every movement had to be performed correctly, and every point of force had to be precise. Green was soon drenched in sweat and his muscles ached, but Lake showed no sign of letting up.

"Breathe! Control your breathing!"

"Your footsteps are too erratic! Do you want to trip yourself?"

"Arm! Raise it! Do you want the enemy's fist to smash into your face?"

When training finally came to an end, Green almost collapsed on the floor, and Laker threw him a towel and a water bottle.

"To be continued tomorrow."

Rick's voice remained calm. "Go to the archives this afternoon; Eliza will arrange theoretical study for you. Tonight, study the 'Canon' and 'Code of Conduct' on your own. There's a quiz next week."

Breathing heavily, Green struggled to sit up: "The quiz... what's on it?"

"Doctrines, principles, basic occult symbols, and common danger levels of sealed objects."

Rick glanced at him. "If you fail, the training load will double, and your allowance will be cut in half."

Green: "..."

He suddenly felt a sense of fear, as if he had returned to his student days and was being controlled by his homeroom teacher.

In the afternoon, under the guidance of Ms. Eliza White, Green began his tedious but necessary theoretical studies.

Eliza was extremely efficient; she prepared a detailed study plan for Green, covering the history of the Church of the Night, its main doctrines, common rituals, interpretation of basic occult symbols, and a detailed explanation of the Night Watch's code of conduct.

These are the most basic of the basics.

Eliza pushed up her glasses. "If you don't understand these things, you might not even understand your teammates' instructions during a mission, or you might trigger taboos that you shouldn't."

Green studied very diligently. He knew this knowledge was a matter of life and death.

In the evening, when he dragged his tired body back to 27 Embankment Street, Mrs. Lefevere had already prepared dinner.

Aunt Sylvia sat at the dining table, her face still pale, but at least she was willing to come downstairs for dinner. Sura whispered about things at school, trying to lighten the mood.

Emily's door remained closed.

"The soup's been left by the door," Mrs. Lefever whispered to Green, "but it hasn't been touched."

Green nodded without saying anything. He knew this couldn't be rushed.

After dinner, Green returned to his room, opened "The Night Church Canon" and "Code of Conduct," and began to study the obscure scriptures and tedious rules. The night deepened outside the window, and the only sounds in the room were the turning of pages and the scratching of a pen.

A week passed by in this way, filled with training, studying, and family chores.

Green's physical fitness has improved significantly; at least he's no longer exhausted like a dog during basic training. His grasp of theoretical knowledge is also good, and Eliza is satisfied with his learning progress.

On Friday afternoon, Green finished training and was about to leave the camp when Clarice called him back.

"Green, come to my office for a moment."

Clarice's office was on the other side of the outpost, simpler than the one upstairs in the sanatorium, more like a war room. A detailed map of Oberhafen hung on the wall, and the desk was piled high with documents and reports.

"sit."

Clarice pointed to the chair opposite her, while she herself leaned back behind the desk.

"Your performance during your internship was good."

Clarice cut to the chase, "Both Rick and Eliza gave it a positive review. So, I'm going to give you your first official mission."

Clarice nodded, pulled a thin case report from the table, and pushed it in front of Green.

"A male body was found four days ago at 32 Mariner Street, Queens. The Sheriff's Department's initial investigation determined it to be a suicide by hanging."

She tapped her finger on the report. "But the deceased's family and several neighbors insisted it was impossible, saying he was 'perfectly fine a few days ago' and 'had no reason to commit suicide.' After reviewing the report again, the police found several suspicious points, some inconsistencies at the scene. They weren't sure, so they transferred it to us according to procedure."

Clarisse looked up at Green: "Speaking of which, you might know this person."

Green was taken aback: "I know him? Who?"

"Robert Bob. He worked at the Port Authority, and that's what people called him—"

"—Old Bob?!" Green blurted out, his voice filled with disbelief.

Clarice nodded, confirming his guess: "The time of death was probably between Wednesday and Thursday night last week. The port authority records show that he took sick leave."

Last week? Green immediately recalled Henry's words from back then: "Old Bob was injured and took sick leave."

Could it be that he already knew from that time onwards...? No, did Henry know? Or was that so-called "sick leave" just a pretext?

"You've worked as a private investigator, so you should be quite skilled at crime scene investigation, witness questioning, and logical reasoning."

Clarisse glanced at Green and continued, "This case isn't complicated, at least not on the surface. It should be a good introductory task for you. It will allow you to utilize your past experience and get a basic feel for the Night's Watch's working methods, identifying whether extraordinary factors are interfering beneath the surface of ordinary cases."

She paused, then added, "Irwin will go with you, responsible for perimeter security and providing support when necessary. But he won't directly intervene in your investigation unless you request it or discover clear signs of something extraordinary. This is your test."

Green took a deep breath to suppress the turmoil in his heart.

Old Bob...the taciturn old guard who had worked in the port authority warehouse for decades and seemed to know many secrets.

Was his death truly just suicide? Or... was it a curse?

"I understand." Green took the case report, quickly glanced at the basic information, and asked, "When does it begin?"

"Now."

Clarice stood up. "Irwin is waiting for you outside. The carriage is ready. Remember, Green, use your eyes to see and your mind to think. The sheriff's office may have missed some details, and our job is to find the truth that might be hidden behind those 'inconsistencies,' whether it's the ugliness of human nature or something darker."

"Yes."

Green put away the report, nodded slightly to Clarisse, and turned to leave the office.

At the entrance of the outpost, Alvin was indeed leaning against the wall, tossing an apple in his hand. Seeing Green come out, he grinned and precisely tossed the apple into a nearby trash can.

"Let's go, rookie detective. Let's see what kind of 'shortcut' this old Mr. Bob has chosen for himself."

Alvin's tone remained light, but his eyes held a unique sense of composure.

The two boarded a standard carriage arranged by the Night's Watch, and the wheels rolled as they headed toward Queens.