"Understood," Zayne replied, scratching his head with an honest looking grin.
Howard spoke in a low voice. "Do you know Zion?"
"No," Zayne answered truthfully. "I've never even heard that name."
He genuinely did not know that the blackhearted boss who bought his organs was called Zion.
Howard confirmed that Zayne was not lying, but he still refused to give up.
"Then have you ever been to a farm?"
"Yes."
At that, Zayne's expression suddenly turned frightened.
"What was on that farm?" Howard stared straight into Zayne's eyes. The clue was coming.
"There were chickens!" Zayne blurted out.
Howard almost punched him in the face. "That's nonsense. Of course farms have chickens."
"No, Howard, not normal chickens," Zayne said seriously. "They were super gigantic. Like a thousand pounds each."
At the mention of thousand pound chickens, everyone nearby instantly woke up, ears pricked, curious to hear more.
"And that chicken even asked me if I wanted to play," Zayne continued, blinking innocently. "It said I had good conditions and it wouldn't charge me. I got scared and ran away."
He was telling the truth. Every word.
Howard fell silent.
Because he realized that every single sentence Zayne said was true.
At this point, there were only two possibilities.
One, Zayne was an even more cunning old fox than Blake, deliberately acting dumb.
Two, Zayne truly had nothing to do with Zion's death.
Howard leaned toward the second option.
So he stopped asking about the farm and instead asked where Zayne had been that night.
But that question led nowhere either.
Zayne really had been at the Transcendent Guild with Francis, practicing with weapons. The guild had full records of that. One check and it was all there.
Howard quickly pulled up the records.
When he saw that Zayne had damaged training dummies rated to withstand attacks from Transcendents below level forty, his eyes narrowed.
"Zayne, can you explain why you're only level sixteen, yet you were able to damage dummies designed to withstand attacks from level forty Transcendents?" Howard asked with a faint smile.
"I was born freakishly strong," Zayne said without batting an eye.
"Born freakishly strong?" Howard tapped the table lightly. "I suggest you tell the truth, or I might have to keep you here overnight."
Zayne cursed inwardly.
Ordinary people could never access detailed guild records, but the Investigation Bureau certainly could.
If he had known he was going to kill Dano tonight, he would not have been so flashy at the guild.
"Thanks to Mr. Ward buying me a full set of good gear, plus my Forbidden Spellcaster class, I could burst to that level," Zayne said truthfully. "Besides, the dummies don't dodge."
Howard narrowed his eyes, fingers tapping softly on the desk.
That explanation actually held up.
Forbidden Spells were inherently terrifying. With good equipment, a level sixteen damaging a level forty training dummy was not impossible.
"You ignored your own health and cast Forbidden Spells just to test your strength on dummies. Why?" Howard asked, frowning.
"I didn't really feel like living anymore," Zayne blinked. "Is that illegal?"
"No," Howard replied.
He did not pursue that line of questioning. Instead, he suddenly changed direction.
"Do you know Dano?"
"Yes. One of our city's top ten outstanding philanthropists," Zayne replied. "Though I haven't really seen him on TV."
"Oh?" Howard's gaze sharpened. "Why is that?"
"My family's poor. We couldn't afford a TV."
Howard fell silent again.
"Zayne, it seems you really do know something about Dano's death," Howard said, a glint flashing in his eyes. "From the beginning until now, you've been deliberately derailing the conversation and distracting me. It's obvious you don't want me to keep asking."
At the same time, a bold hypothesis formed in Howard's mind.
Forbidden Spellcaster. Capable of damaging level forty dummies.
The Zayne in front of him might very well be that mysterious Shadowcaster.
And Shadowcaster might not be a single individual, but a well trained organization.
Once that thought appeared, it refused to go away.
If that were the case, everything suddenly made sense.
After the Zion farm incident, Zayne was taken in by the Ward family. Shortly after, the Ward family was targeted by Dano's retaliation. Then, Dano himself was silenced.
"There must be something on you that attracted both Dano and the Ward Group," Howard said slowly. "Zion discovered it first, so you killed him. You burned the farm and everyone in it to the ground."
"Then Dano suppressed the incident, secretly preparing retaliation against the Ward Group. He wiped out the Ward estate and chopped off Mr. Ward's arm. And then you, or rather the force behind you, erased Dano entirely. Am I right, Shadowcaster?"
Howard's eyes burned as he stared straight at Zayne, trying to catch even a hint of panic.
He was disappointed.
Zayne was panicking internally, but on the surface he still looked clueless. He even blinked at Howard.
"Howard, what are you talking about?" Zayne said innocently. "Spreading accusations without evidence isn't good for unity, you know."
With that one sentence, Howard deflated like a punctured balloon.
Evidence.
There was none.
Both the farm and the underground black market had been completely incinerated by Hellfire. Not a single trace remained.
Even if his guess was the truth, it meant nothing without proof.
Howard took a deep breath.
He firmly believed that even if his conclusion was not the full truth, it was very close. Only this explanation could connect all the recent events.
But there was still one thing he could not understand.
The massacre at the Ward estate happened a little after ten at night. The underground black market fire erupted after three in the morning.
What happened in those five hours?
If large scale Transcendent combat had taken place at the black market, the Investigation Bureau would have received reports immediately.
Yet during those five hours, there was absolute silence, as if nothing had happened at all.
And then suddenly, the fire erupted and erased everything.
Howard took a long, hard look at Zayne. He knew there was nothing more he could get from him.
He glanced at his watch and spoke.
"Zayne, it's five in the morning now. There are twenty seven hours left until the college entrance trial begins."
"You'd better hope that in these twenty seven hours, I don't find any evidence."