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He forcibly endured his instinct not to dodge.

Fein City’s Sheriff Renzo, as a mainstay of the Lion clan and a mid-level Transmutation Knight Extraordinary Exponent, had absolutely no chance of defeating him at close quarters.

Byrne instantly judged that any frivolous attempt to dodge might prompt the other’s next attack, and that not resisting was the correct choice.

Sheriff Renzo hesitated slightly, the young man before him was calmer and more composed than he had expected, without the panic and screaming he had anticipated.

“I am not the murderer.”

Sheriff Renzo was also unsure whether Byrne of the Fischer family was the actual murderer.

He was just trying to intimidate the other party, figuring that once Byrne was caught off guard, he could easily extract a lot of information.

But now, looking into the young man’s calm eyes, Sheriff Renzo felt uncertain again.

“First, tell me why you are here.”

Byrne looked around and, feeling that the murderer was not nearby, explained very calmly:

“The butler can testify for me, just one minute ago I had come upstairs, and you arrived shortly after. Moreover, I had an appointment with Mr. Gold in advance, and did not barge in.”

He paused, shook his head, and said:

“If I really wanted to kill him, leaving so many traces would be simply ludicrous; anyone would be able to trace it back to me immediately.”

“Moreover, Mr. Gold and I are close business partners. Our business has always been well, and there are no conflicts. I have absolutely no motive.”

Having said that, Byrne gazed into the other’s eyes and slowly revealed a smile:

“Put the gun down, Sheriff Renzo.”

Sheriff Renzo calmly lowered the gun; even if the murderer really was Byrne, he was fully confident in his ability to deal with him, with or without firearms.

“Thank you.”

Byrne concealed his dissatisfaction and, as calmly as possible, walked forward, slowly turning to survey everything in the room quickly.

“Profound Memory” was at work.

While gazing at the blood next to the bullet hole, he still felt dizzy due to his innate fear of blood, but he was no longer so easily knocked down.

He was well aware that he was no longer the boy who could rely on his father, and that as an adult, he did not have the right to just “fall down”.

His combat ability was weak, his life experience shallow, and he had psychological defects, aspects in which he could not compare to his father Lucius.

He was aware of these things.

So, whenever he was alone, lying in bed with no one around, Byrne often recalled the blood in his Profound Memory, remembering the repulsive odor that signified death and despair.

Enduring the pain time after time, Byrne gradually tried to overcome the most fatal flaw deep inside him.

And now, it seemed to be effective; he took a deep breath, expelled the dizziness from his mind, and fully memorized everything he observed.

The shattered mirror on the floor was likely the source of the “crack” sound, the muzzle of the alchemical flintlock still had gunpowder residue, clearly it had been used not long before, followed by the wine bottle on the desk and the two glasses of red wine, except it was unknown to whom the second glass was poured.

Byrne felt that the wine was not poured for him, as Mr. Gold knew that he hardly drank, and such a worldly man would not forget that.

Sheriff Renzo was squatting next to Mr. Gold’s corpulent corpse, his expression serious without carelessly touching it, and without turning his head, he said to Butler Poltz and Byrne:

“Mr. Byrne, you must stay here. Butler Poltz, go find my brother and summon Viscount Bast. Don’t spread the word for now and don’t let anyone from the villa come to this side of the study, understood?”

“Yes! Gentlemen, of course, I understand. I will go to Lord Viscount right away!”

The butler nodded repeatedly, began stepping away, and then suddenly, the sheriff turned back and coldly stared at him.

“For whatever reason, if you leak what has happened here beforehand, I will consider you an accomplice to the murderer.”

The butler, pale with fright, scurried away in a panic.

Byrne could tell, this third son of the Lion clan, Sheriff Renzo Leone, was very adept at “intimidation”.

Only Byrne and Sheriff Renzo were left in the room, and because of the recent awkwardness, they did not speak for a long while.

Byrne was not one to hold a grudge, and took the initiative to say to Sheriff Renzo:

“I think the person who wanted to kill Mr. Gold must be an acquaintance, as there were two glasses of red wine on the desk and I do not drink, so the second glass couldn’t have been poured for me.”

Renzo glanced at the young man and nodded calmly: “Makes some sense.”

The atmosphere relaxed slightly, and they did not say much more, waiting until dusk gradually fell and they finally heard footsteps coming upstairs.

The study door was opened from the outside, and three people quickly entered.

They were Mr. Gold’s butler, Viscount Bast, and a middle-aged woman whom Byrne did not recognize at all.

Viscount Bast was slightly short, of medium build, with meticulously combed greying hair, wearing a black tailcoat and a black hat.

His perpetually squinted eyes betrayed a cunning sparkle like that of a fox hunting. Known as “the fox leading the pride of lions,” Viscount Bast’s image of craft and cunning left a profound impression on people.

“Renzo, Byrne, I’m here, alas.”