Chapter 1331: Pleasure in Helping Others

Wendel wasn't unfamiliar with murder at all. When he heard that, he

wasn't afraid at all. Instead, he calmly allowed his gaze to wander past

the woman at the door and into the room's interior.

He immediately saw a man lying on the ground. His chest was blood-red.

"Are you sure he's dead?" Wendel asked calmly.

The young lady in her twenties was at a loss at first. Then, she

answered with uncertainty, "Maybe... I don't know..."

"If there's still hope, we need to send him to the hospital

immediately." Wendel's tone was like he was speaking to a patient's

family, not a murderer.

The lady holding the blood dagger subconsciously turned her body and

made way.

Wendel took a few steps forward and approached the victim.

He didn't need to squat down. He swept his gaze and made a judgment

based on various signs.

"He is indeed dead."

The woman in her twenties with messy, flaxen-colored hair didn't show

any obvious change in expression. She looked down at her toes and said,

"Call the police."

"How do I address you?" Wendel had already heard hurried footsteps

coming from the stairs.

It was obvious that the attendant or hotel owner came up to check on the

commotion after hearing the screams.

"Tracey..." the pure lady with an attitude answered softly.

She then sank into her own world and didn't say another word.

Wendel was just about to say something when the owner of the hotel who

had helped him check in previously had already rushed through the door.

"Goddess!" the elderly man shouted after seeing the situation in the

room.

Wendel pressed down with his right hand, gesturing for him to calm down

before saying, "Call the police immediately. I'll stay here and watch."

His temperament and words exuded a sense of confidence that convinced

others. The owner of the hotel didn't waste any time and immediately

turned around and ran downstairs.

As for Wendel, when he first came over to check on the situation, it was

just a habit as a gentleman. In fact, he didn't have the intention to

get involved in it. After all, he was still shouldering the mission.

However, Miss Tracey's dazed, detached, and cold attitude induced a

sense of pity in him. This was a normal reaction for a man.

He surveyed the area as though he was conversing with the air.

"Killing someone doesn't imply a harsh punishment. It can be categorized

into many kinds of situations."

Tracey slowly raised her head and cast her gaze at the gentleman.

There was an indescribable luster in her lifeless eyes.

Wendel glanced at her bruised face.

"He hit you?"

"Yes." The man seemed to have some sort of authority, making Tracey, who

wanted to remain silent, finally answer.

Wendel looked down at the dagger that was no longer dripping blood.

"Was it you who brought it here, or him?"

Tracey's response was a little slow as she replied, "Him."

Wendel nodded slightly and said, "Exercising your right to self-defense

is in line with the law. I can testify to the police that you had an

intense argument before it happened and that there was a fight. Clearly,

men naturally possess an advantage in this aspect. I'm not

discriminating against women, but it's something explained by science

and experience."

He paused and asked, "What is the relationship between the two of you?

What happened?"

Tracey's eyes darted about and she recovered a little from that deep,

reclusive state.

She seemed to be answering a policeman's question as she said with a

look of hope and sorrow, "I am, heh, I am his mistress."

Upon saying this, a self-deprecating smile appeared on Tracey's face.

"I used to be an ugly woman who blindly chased after money. Not long

after I left the grammar school, I became his mistress under his

enticement.

"He gave me a hotel and let me stay there. I wait for his arrival or for

him to summon me every week.

"I lost interest in this lifestyle, feeling increasingly suppressed as

my inferiority complex grew. I wanted to return everything to him and

get rid of him completely, but he wasn't agreeable. He threatened me

using all sorts of methods and refused to let me leave him. The recent

times we met all ended in fights.

"Just now, he said that there was only one way to leave him, and that

was death. Then, he beat me up and took out a dagger. Y-you know what

happened after that..."

Mistress... Wendel cast a regretful and pitiful glance at

Tracey's face and said, "The traces at the scene have also confirmed the

development of the situation."

He had originally thought that Tracey and the deceased were husband and

wife, but to his surprise, their relationship was worse than he had

imagined.

Tracey nodded blankly and said,

"Thank you."

She didn't say another word. She only broke the silence when the police

arrived. She raised her hands and accepted the handcuffs.

Wendel looked at her staggered pace and said to the police, "Bring her

to check on her injuries first and treat them to avoid any accidents."

The police officers didn't know why they had to listen to instructions

from a witness. In short, they led Tracey and Wendel to a small hospital

in the city without any objections under the heavy rain.

As Tracey was a woman, Wendel and two police officers waited in the

corridor of the hospital without entering the room.

As time passed, Wendel saw a pregnant woman being sent to the delivery

room in a hurry. There seemed to be some problems and they needed help

with the labor process.

After a while, he heard the sound of a baby crying, an announcement of a

new life coming to this world. At this moment, Tracey happened to come

out.

"Do you feel it? Life's beauty," Wendel said to Tracey solemnly.

As Tracey listened to the baby's cries amidst the howling wind and rain,

her expression was clearly touched.

Her face had already been wiped clean, making her look very clean and

simple.

After a few seconds, Tracey returned to her senses and nodded at Wendel

before saying, "Thank you."

This time, she was no longer as numb, blank, and reclusive.

Wendel secretly heaved a sigh of relief and followed her to the police

station to record a statement.

After doing what was necessary, Wendel walked to the street side and

prepared to take a rental carriage back to the Irises Hotel.

However, in the middle of the stormy night, there were no pedestrians or

carriages on the road.

"This is the disadvantage of a small city. It's not convenient enough,"

Wendel muttered. He opened the umbrella he had brought with him and made

his way back to the Irises Hotel.

As a former Sheriff, he had the memory, in the mystical sense, of the

route he had taken before. He wasn't worried about getting lost in the

small city.

At this moment, the storm had already reduced significantly. However,

the strong winds continued to sweep past Wendel, causing rain to fall on

him.

This caused Wendel to raise his right hand and block his chest.

That confidential document was hidden on the inside of the clothing.

Wendel had previously kept the document close to him even when he was

sleeping, not allowing it to be separated from him. For this reason, he

had already developed a habit. As long as he had the corresponding

self-reminders, he wouldn't turn over once he fell asleep.

After walking for about fifteen minutes in the small town of Utopia,

Wendel saw the Irises Hotel. At that moment, his top hat and clothes

were drenched due to the strong winds.

This made him a little worried, worried that the confidential document

would be damaged by the water.

*Strictly speaking, I have already violated the rules of the mission,

but how could I not help a lady like her? This is what a gentleman

should do...* Wendel was slightly vexed, but he didn't regret it

at all.

After entering the room, he immediately removed his jacket and took out

the document, placing it on the table.

The envelope containing the document was already visibly soaked. There

were quite a few places that seemed to tear with a little force.

Wendel immediately rang the bell and called for an attendant to ask for

a gas stove, hoping to raise the temperature in the room and accelerate

the air-drying process of the sealed document.

In the process of waiting, he realized that the silence expected from

the middle of the night wasn't there. It was as if the screams and the

police's arrival had caused the tenants and nearby residents to wake up

without being able to fall asleep.

The howling winds lessened significantly, and Wendel could hear children

crying, married couples arguing, the sound of a wooden violin being

played, intermittent sobbing, the footsteps on the stairs, and the

occasional sounds of discussion that were sometimes suppressed and

sometimes raised without realizing it.

He didn't feel anything about this lively scene. He just felt that they

were noisy that prevented him from calming down.

After a while, the attendant brought over a coal stove.

Wendel relaxed and asked casually, "Do you know that Miss Tracey?"

The thin attendant shook his head.

"No."

He then added, "I heard that she's a local, but I've been living outside

in the plantations outside the city before this year."

"What do you know about her?" Wendel asked subconsciously.

"She comes to our hotel three to five times a month, with the dead man."

The waiter suddenly sighed. "She's not happy at all."

Wendel was silent for a few seconds before dismissing the attendant and

returning to his desk.

Seconds ticked by as the envelope outside the confidential document

gradually dried up.

At this moment, the inside and outside of the hotel had become

relatively quiet. Only the sound of rain falling and the sound of the

windows being rattled by the winds could be heard.

Wendel was full of spirit as he recalled everything that had happened.

He sighed for Miss Tracey's life and flipped the envelope.

At this moment, he realized that some damage had appeared on the bottom

part of the envelope, revealing the piece of paper inside.

Wendel frowned, knowing that he was about to be punished.

Of course, the punishment wouldn't be too heavy as if the document to be

distributed was confidential enough, he wouldn't be the only one to

dispatch it.

Wendel had originally planned on maintaining the present state and

showing the damaged situation during the handover. However, when he

swept his gaze, he saw a word on the document through the hole:

"Utopia."

Wendel's nerves tightened, and he felt as if the sound of the wind and

rain outside had suddenly stopped.