I Tell You Monster. Volume 1 Chapter 1 part 2

 
“It’s about this brilliant detective who solves crimes with the help of his assistant who gets dragged along for the ride.”
 
“Hmm…pfft…”
 
Looking down, she gave a slight, crooked smile
 
unbefitting a girl her age.
 
“In that case, wouldn’t you be the assistant, Norman?”
 
“…Fair point.”
 
“Pfft…kukuku…”
 
The clearly amusing thought sent her petite shoulders shaking with repressed laughter.
 
“…You know, the thing that stuck with me about that novel was how the eccentric genius detective’s helper would grumble complaints, but still indulge and go along with him.”
 
“Kukuku…fufufu…just as I thought, so typical of you, Norman!”
 
Her shaking shoulders grew more pronounced. There was something distinctly unsatisfying about it though.
 
“Whew. My apologies, that was rude of me. Norman, you’re not one to complain.”
 
“Is that so…? Are you sure about that…?”
 
“Yes. Even if you did, I simply wouldn’t hear it.”
 
“You little…”
 
“Kukuku.”
 
Smiling, her swaying body brushed ever so slightly against his.
 
“Shall we be off then, assistant? Murder cases really aren’t all that intriguing or worth noting.”
 
“A brilliant detective wouldn’t say such things.”
 
Probably.
 


 

After a thirty minute walk, they arrived at the rather opulent two-story Wallwood manor.
 
The murder scene, the private room of the lady of the house Mary, was appropriately lavish as well.
 
In the center of the room was a desk for work, and the walls were lined with neatly arranged bookshelves and file racks, with more files and binders than books.
 
There were two windows, large enough for a person to pass through, allowing good sunlight.
 
Near the ceiling, there was only one small vent-like opening.
 
The carpet was so plush that one felt they might sink right into it.
 
It seemed like a nice room.
 
The problem was—the desk was split cleanly in two, with bloodstains on it.
 
Norman took out a file and compared it to the photos of the murdered Mary in her loungewear.
 
In the photos, Mary was lying sprawled between the halves of the split desk.
 
More precisely, her chest was smashed in—bones likely piercing through flesh, organs ruptured.
 
Even if someone had forcibly swung some massive steel hammer down on her while she was seated at the desk, it shouldn’t have resulted in that.
 
The solidly built desk itself was shattered.
 
“I see.”
 
“What do you think, Hamish?”
 
The voice addressing him didn’t belong to Shizuku.
 
It was a tall, thin man in a worn moss-green coat and equally worn black suit.
 
His short cropped hair prioritized low maintenance over appearance.
 
His face was average, but the tired expression and dark circles under his eyes made him unlikely to appeal to women.
 
Harrison-Leonard.
 
A detective from the Balldlum Police, and an old acquaintance of Norman’s to some degree.
 
Whenever Norman met him, he always seemed weary and troubled, which Norman couldn’t help but worry about.
 
“Well…”
 
He shrugged at the question.
 
“I don’t have anything to say.”
 
“I’m not expecting your deductions or anything.”
 
His dismissive, exasperated tone was evident.
 
“I’m asking if you understand the situation.”
 
“Ah, if that’s what you mean, then I get the gist of it. The body, the broken desk, and…”
 
In the corner of the room was Shizuku, huddled silently, and further over was the sole entrance,
 
which had its door broken down into a mere opening.
 
“The broken door. What about the windows?”
 
“They were confirmed to be locked at the time of the incident.”
 
“I see. The only other way in seems to be that small vent, too small for anything larger than a rat.”
 
In other words, Norman nodded.
 
“A locked room murder, you could say. And obviously an unnatural death. The culprit hasn’t been found, nor the method.”
 
“That’s why I called you two.”
 
“I figured as much.”
 
Harrison nodded with a sullen expression,
 
as if reluctantly asking for their help since he had no other choice.
 
It’s not that he was incompetent, nor was he ignoring police authority or laws by handing a private citizen the files of a murder case and letting them investigate freely.
 
This was Norman and Shizuku’s job.
 
Incidents that defied normal reasoning.
 
Crime scenes and methods that contradicted logic. Inexplicable victims and bodies.
 
Things that should be impossible without magic or miracles.
 
And yet—they happened.
 
“Cases like this are your field, aren’t they…detective?”
 
“I’m not too fond of that title, to be honest. We ‘Cartesius Investigators’ are often called that at crime scenes.”
 
“You’re an unofficial organization, after all. To cops like me who don’t serve as your liaisons, you’re just civilians intruding on crime scenes and doing as you please. That’s the easiest way to put it.”
 
“Well, I can’t refute that.”
 
“Then do your job. I’ll talk to the staff and others related to the estate. They’re suspicious of who you two really are.”
 
“In that case, just call us great detectives.”
 
“That’s not funny.”
 
With a shrug of his shoulders, Harrison left the room in his usual manner.
 
“…It was supposed to be a sarcastic joke.”
 
“Accept the reality that your sarcastic jokes aren’t funny, Norman.”
 
And there was Shizuku with her biting remark, having finally spoken up.
 
Watching Harrison leave through the entrance, she muttered,
 
“He’s as unmotivated as ever. Though not quite as much as you, Norman.”
 
“He’s not unmotivated. He knows his place. His job is likely explaining things to the police and related parties, as well as settling jurisdictions when he calls us in.”
 
“Hah.”
 
A vague, dismissive response, as if she didn’t care.
 
The disinterested girl she was.
 
“Shall we begin?”
 
“Yeah, let’s do it.”
 
Shizuku bit the tip of her right glove, then lowered her hand.
 
Keeping the glove in her mouth, she removed her left glove too, then extended her hand to Norman.
 
Norman gently took Shizuku’s small hand in his own.
 
Slender, soft—he worried it might break if he gripped too tightly.
 
They approached the shattered desk, and with his free hand, Norman touched it.
 
Taking a deep breath, Shizuku murmured softly,
 
“─────《Lingering Echoes – Tears of the Flowers – Vision》”
 
In that instant, the world shifted for Norman and Shizuku.

READ THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATION AT LOCALIZERMEERKAT.PAGES.DEV


 


 

Norman and Shizuku were hearing sounds.
 
Something resonating with something else, those sounds forming visions.
 
The study. The locked door and windows.
 
The desk, unbroken.
 
Mary Wallwood in her nightgown, leaning against the desk in front of it.
 
Cowering.
 
Her body trembling, expression frozen stiff.
 
Terror, confusion, shock—rejection in her eyes.
 
She screamed something.
 
The next instant, Mary was crushed.
 
Her chest smashed in, the sturdy desk split cleanly in two.
 
A ridiculous scene.
 
Something no human could ever do.
 
If they could, then they were a monster.
 


 

“—!?”
 
With a gasp as if having a convulsion, Shizuku’s breath caught as the world shifted back.
 
“Huff…huff…”
 
For a brief moment, I waited as she calmed herself, head in her hands.
 
Putting an arm around her swaying shoulders to support her.
 
In this world, there is no such thing as magic or miracles.
 
Only reality, reason, mere humans, and what is called ‘Unlaws’—the [something] else.
 
Lurking, changing, exceptions, twisting abnormalities.
 
Able to do what humans cannot, things resembling but not quite human.
 
In Shizuku’s case, she calls it ‘Howling’ – Lingering Echoes”
 
‘Vision’ is an application of that ability.
 
Reading the residual thoughts or sensations left on objects she touches, and perceiving them as visions.
 
I had thought she was seeing lingering residual thoughts, but listening to her, it seems different.
 
Her ‘Vision’ ability can occasionally activate against her will, quite rarely. At times, she sees visions of the future through it.
 
So what she witnesses is not mere lingering residual thoughts.
 
Sometimes she can read visions at will, other times she sees them inadvertently from casual contact.
 
That’s why she restrains her exposure—
 
the gloves are a must to avoid accidental visions, and keeping distance and minimal conversation is her way of avoiding excess contact.
 
Visions she sees through touch. Echoes of the past or future.
 
Something that defies the laws of this world.
 
Hence, it is called ‘Unlaws.’
 
Shizuku Teardrop, the ‘Echo Howling.’
 
And her visions can be shared with others simply through touch.
 
I’ve never seen her share a vision with anyone besides myself, but she is an ‘Unlaws,’ and my job is to investigate incidents and accidents that should be impossible for normal humans—together with whomever can perceive the ‘Unlaws.’
 
“You okay now? Shizuku?”
 
“Yes, I’m alright. But still…”


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