Zion's words echoed in the shop, and the shopkeeper frowned before opening his mouth. "I have stopped making such masks. Please return."
"Why?" Although Zion could tell that this was perhaps what the gentle husband had ordered to this shopkeeper, he still wanted to know why this blind person couldn't create silver masks. "I only want two sets for half a face. My master is famous for her beauty and wants to find a husband at a masquerade party. Please forgive me for not specifying earlier."
After hearing the description, the shopkeeper's expressions lightened, and he nodded. "Then bring your master here. I shall take her measurements and ask her for preferences."
"Will do, sir, but you do have enough experience with silver, right?" Zion deliberately added a hint of doubt in his voice as he said this. "My master is really anxious for a husband, so she wants to find a place that can give her a beautiful mask at a cheap price. So if you have experience, kindly let me know of the masks you have crafted."
The blind man didn't doubt Zion's words and immediately went inside. After a while, he came out with a scroll and brushed off the dust from the surface as he placed it on the counter in front of the detective. Then he gestured to him to open the scroll. "You'll find carved designs of most of the masks I have made. Don't mistake me for any random blind elf. I can create the masks with such beauty that your master will fall in love with it at first sight!"
After this, the man continued to speak about how beautiful his masks had been and how the previous owners would repeatedly bless him for his masks. He even counted how many orders he had received when the man was still young.
Zion frowned and closed the scroll that not only had designs of various masks, but also had a unique feature that could help any blind person trace the edges of the design with a finger. It almost seemed as if these designs were created out of small spikes. He didn't dwell on the topic of who might have created these designs but directly asked another question. "When was the last time you created a mask for someone?"
The shopkeeper's expressions changed slightly, but he pulled up the corner of his lips to plaster a fake smile on his face. "Last year, but that man gave me enough to keep eating for a hundred years. I don't really have to take up any tasks. That's why I told you earlier that I wouldn't be taking any silver mask orders anymore."
The old man covered up quite nicely, and to an outsider, it would seem like what the man said should be the real reason why the blind elf said those words earlier and bluntly rejected Zion. But the detective knew better. The man said those words just to cover up his own mistake, and Zion's suspicion grew sharper.
His eyes narrowed and said, "Last year? But…."
"Don't doubt me, mister!" The old man immediately added in an anxious voice. "I still craft the masks out of personal habit. Unless it's an urgent issue, I don't take up requests, and seeing how your master wants to find a husband, I felt like it is indeed an urgent request."
"But didn't you say you have enough money to live for many years to come?"
"I do, but I just can't refuse a customer coming to my shop." The old man bluntly rubbed his hands and continued. "You're a God for me. Of course, I would give you a preference."
Zion sneered in his heart. He could tell that the previous customer of this man must be the gentle husband, and the money he had given to this blind man must have been spent completely. That was why this man seemed to be in such a hurry to gather the customer under him. He wanted to ask about the previous customer, but he couldn't ask bluntly about it and raised suspicion. For all he knew, the gentle husband might be standing behind the curtains and listening to this conservation.
So Zion tactfully changed the topic and said, "Can you show me your latest pieces, specifically the last one? I still don't know what kind of design my master likes, and after seeing a bunch of such designs, I'd go back and inquire from her. Maybe, I will be able to persuade her to give you tips if you create a masterpiece. You can even combine the designs of two or more of your previous masks!"
The old man was again fooled by Zion's words and opened the scroll all over again. He directly went to the last option and pointed his finger at a familiar-looking silver-colored mask drawn realistically with the spikes and colored on the scroll. Sure enough. It was the same mask. With this scroll as evidence, he would be able to prove that the gentle husband was the one who had been killing people all this time.
He just wanted to ask one more thing to confirm, and that was whether the gentle elf came here himself to get the mask order, so he opened his mouth and asked, "I like this one. Can you tell me the owner's address? I would like to go and see the piece for myself to test the quality. I hope you don't mind…." Zion paused as if he were hesitating and said without giving the man a chance to refuse, "If you're still doubtful, you can just call the man here. I can ask my master to come here herself and see the quality of the mask."
"No."
Zion frowned at the blunt refusal, but he had expected this to happen, so he quietly waited for the man's reply.
The old man was silent for a while before he hesitated and parted his lips. "It's not like I don't want you to meet the man who had ordered this type of simple but exquisite mask, but I really don't know where the man lives. Why don't I show you my personal collection instead?"
"No, I like that one. It would suit my master. I only want that one."
The old man was helpless and sighed. "I really don't know. The man who had ordered this had approached me with the order. I don't even know what the man looks like because of my poor eyesight, but I can tell you one thing. His voice was gentle, and he was kind to me. I know this might be an absurd thing to say since we elves are always like that, but that man was extremely gentle, especially to kids! He even had a child with him back then, and he was coaxing him to sleep!"