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.