Wait—wasn’t she unable to use the Disguise Power on anything else, like a mask that can’t cover another mask?

Hold on, did she disguise Rexi, like smoke wrapping smoke?

Right—why isn’t the green‑haired girl at her side, like a shadow that never left?

The realization snapped into place in Anliena’s mind like tumblers in a lock, yet the words stuck like thorns.

She bit down in her heart, like teeth on ice.

Luwens checked the card in Lucimia’s hand; his eyes lit like lanterns at dusk, and his mood rose like a spring breeze. “Looks like you two just ran into each other by mistake. Every Investigator has a case, and you just crossed paths.”

“Hmph, then that’s that,” Anliena snorted, her breath cold as frost, stowing her credentials like folding a fan, and she turned to leave like a shadow slipping out the door. She knew her smear had failed like ash in rain.

She had just reached the threshold when Lucimia’s voice cut in—cold as a drawn blade.

“Did I say you could go?”

Luwens froze like a statue in morning fog.

Anliena halted hard, like a hoof on stone, and looked at Lucimia with confusion and shock, like clouds colliding.

“What’s that supposed to mean? Do I need your say‑so to walk, like a bird needing permission to fly?”

“Yes,” Lucimia said, her voice calm as still water. “I’m an Investigator. You’re a suspect. Until I confirm you’re clean, you don’t leave, like a boat before the tide turns.”

“Me? A suspect? I have credentials—why am I still a suspect, like a lamp called a star?”

Anliena felt Lucimia’s words were absurd, like snow in summer.

“Sit first,” Lucimia said, unhurried as falling leaves, taking a seat like anchoring a stone.

“Tch, why should I listen to you, like a wolf to a bell?”

A bad feeling pooled in Anliena’s chest like ink in water. She turned again, hand on the door like a swimmer on a ledge, and Lucimia spoke once more, words like hooks.

“Why so eager to run—afraid your mask will slip? Fake Investigator.”

The word made Anliena stop dead, like a drumbeat cut short.

Her smear was over like a play’s last bell; now came theirs like a storm front.

Looks like she couldn’t just leave, like a fish can’t leave water.

Face tight as a drawn bow, Anliena looked at Lucimia, then sat down like setting a stone.

“You say I’m fake? On what grounds, like a house without pillars?”

“Simple,” Lucimia said, following Anliena’s lie like a river follows a channel. “I’m an Investigator too. I heard of a serial killer who often impersonates Investigators, then pins the crime on others like throwing mud.”

“And? Doesn’t that prove I’m telling the truth, like a mirror showing a face? Doesn’t it prove I’m an Investigator? If you accuse me without evidence, I’ll suspect you, like a fox smelling smoke.”

“No, that doesn’t prove you’re real,” Lucimia said, her tone steady as a metronome. “Haven’t you noticed your actions mirror the impersonator you described, like a shadow copying a dancer?”

“Me? Ridiculous. I have credentials. I’m real—get it, like daylight?”

“Credentials don’t prove you’re truly an Investigator. Tell me, how does that killer impersonate an Investigator, like a wolf in a pelt?”

“How? Isn’t it obvious? They just—” Anliena choked mid‑word, like a string snapping; she saw the trap like a net in clear water.

“Just what?” Lucimia smiled slightly, like a crescent blade. “Show credentials?”

“...”

“Just like you said,” Lucimia continued, her words slow as falling sand. “How does a killer make law enforcers believe he’s an Investigator? Simple. Show credentials. The card isn’t forged; it’s real, like a ring taken off a warm finger—just taken from another Investigator.”

“By your logic, your credentials could be explained the same way, like two leaves in one stream.”

“Right,” Lucimia said without a flinch, her calm broad as a lake. The admission made Anliena lose the thread, like a kite in crosswind.

“But,” Lucimia’s voice turned, like wind changing at the ridge, “I know the captain here. Luwens’s captain described the helper’s appearance to him, like a sign hung on a door.”

“With two real credentials on the table, whose truth weighs more—someone the captain knows, or a stranger, like grain against chaff?”

“...” Anliena fell silent, her face darkening like a sky before rain.

Luwens stiffened, like a bow drawn to its ear.

He understood Lucimia’s point, clear as a bell at dawn.

Put simply, Lucimia was known to his captain. He trusted his captain, and the description matched her like a seal to wax.

Anliena was a stranger who walked in with a card, like a traveler with a story.

Then a homicide hit, then a witness pointed to Lucimia, all of it like mud flung at a white wall—wasn’t that a smear?

Luwens looked at Anliena, eyes serious as winter steel.

It wasn’t ironclad, but suspicion piled up like snow on eaves.

“...What you said is all guesswork,” Anliena argued, voice tight as wire. “You could say that to any Investigator. You need evidence, like nails in a plank.”

“Evidence... I recall you said the killer fled from Karan City,” Lucimia said, words clean as a blade. “But I’ve never been to Karan City. I’m Bloodkin, invited by Luwens’s captain, like a seal sent for aid.”

She stressed Bloodkin like a bell struck hard, and the air shivered like glass.

“You see? Your guess can’t stand, like a stool with one leg. You’re just trying to smear me, like soot on snow.”

“Let me guess why,” she went on, voice picking up like wind through pines. “Three dead in the jewelry shop tie to the Ouli case I’m on. I did go there yesterday, like a moth to a lantern. The hand behind Ouli feared I’d dig something up, so they moved to erase me, like a tide wiping tracks.”

“Maybe you, the impersonating serial killer, are a piece on their board, doing the dirty work like a crow at dusk. Right? You have ties. You silenced the shop owner, then tried to pin it on me, like tossing a stone to stir the pond.”

“This witness is probably yours too, yes? He claims he saw me go in between eight and ten at night, like a clock striking in public. But he reported at three in the morning. The scene wasn’t sealed at all; the shop door was left open, like a mouth in sleep. Evening is peak foot traffic—how did no customer enter from ten to three, like a street with no footsteps? Is that possible?”

The dockworker in his thirties or forties flinched as Lucimia’s point speared him, panic beading in his palms like cold dew. He babbled, “No, I’m not with her, really!” like a startled bird.

But Luwens’s face only grew sterner, his gaze laced with chill like frost on iron.

“Here’s the deal,” Lucimia said. “We can settle it with a Duel, like steel to steel. You can yield willingly. After you yield, answer me—did you lie in your testimony, like a knot tied crooked?”

The dockworker stammered, words tangling like weeds, and said nothing clear, like fog on a river.

Anliena sat aside, grave as a mountain ridge. Lucimia glanced at her, unsure which way she’d leap, like watching a cat near a vase.

Suddenly, Anliena slapped the table—sound sharp as thunder—and stood up like a blade drawn.

“I get it!”

Luwens and Lucimia stared at her, stunned like birds mid‑flight.

Anliena pointed at the dockworker. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re the killer who impersonates an Investigator to smear others, like a fox in priest’s robes. You’re tied to the hand behind Ouli, right, like vines on the same wall? I’m on the impersonator case; she’s on Ouli. You set us against each other on purpose, like throwing meat between hounds, and you sit back to watch, like a spider on its web—am I right?”

Lucimia and Luwens blinked, her sudden turn hitting like a wave on rock.

Anliena stepped to Lucimia and bowed her tone, sincere as clear water. “My apologies, Investigator Lucimia. I misunderstood you. They were baiting us, like stirring hornets.”

Faced with Anliena’s shift, Lucimia froze a beat, like a clock missing a tick.

She blinked, then saw the play, clear as a path after rain.

Ride the momentum, dump all the filth on the dockworker, and both she and Anliena walk clean, like robes lifted from mud.

To make it sound solid as stone, Anliena offered, “You suspect I’m tied to this witness. Easy. Use a Duel. Ask him if we’re connected, if I put him up to the smear, like a puppeteer behind a curtain. And of course, ask if his testimony holds any lies, like hair in milk.”