Chapter 12: The Tracker's Sight

Mitre Square, the night was deep and dark.The ripples stirred by that sharp police whistle were slowly fading away.

Several patrol officers who had rushed to the scene after hearing the commotion conducted a hasty search but found nothing.

Looking at Weston, who was incoherent and mentally dazed, they could only ultimately attribute it to hallucinations caused by excessive pressure on the old colleague.

Amidst mixed sighs of sympathy and helplessness, the crowd gradually dispersed, leaving only the scent of sulfur and an increasingly heavy chill lingering over the empty square.

On the roof of a three-story apartment building about a hundred meters from the square, two shadowy figures, like gargoyles merging with the night, had been coldly observing everything from beginning to end.

They were precisely the two I.A.R.C. investigators, "Top Hat" Barton and "Burly Man" Marcus.

"That old policeman... he seems to have genuinely seen something." Marcus put down his monocular telescope, his voice unable to conceal his astonishment.

He had personally witnessed Weston's face contorted by extreme terror—it was definitely not feigned.

Barton did not respond immediately.

He was intently adjusting the precisely crafted brass instrument in his hand.

The device was a multi-layered compass, but its internal needle didn't point north-south;instead, it trembled irregularly across fine scales as Barton made adjustments.

This was an "Aether Fluctuation Detector" crafted by Association artisans, specifically designed to capture the faint disturbances caused by inner world creatures when traversing or moving through the physical rules of the surface world.

"The fluctuations here... suddenly intensified, then rapidly decayed to zero within an extremely short time." Barton's voice was low and calm, his brow tightly furrowed. "Exactly when that old policeman blew his whistle. This proves our target, the UMA codenamed 'Mist Walker,' was indeed here just now and chose to make an emergency withdrawal for unknown reasons."

"Because of that policeman?" Marcus sneered contemptuously. "I don't believe it. How could an ordinary person without any field training startle a cunning Town-class UMA? That thing doesn't even attract attention when it slaughters."

"That's precisely the problem." Barton put the detector back inside his coat, his gaze turning toward Weston's stumbling retreating figure, his eyes profound. "The old policeman's appearance itself is a variable. Why was he lying in wait alone here tonight? Coincidence, or... did someone leak information to him?"

This question silenced Marcus as well.

Recalling their experiences chasing that Eastern man over the past few days, an inexplicable irritation welled up inside him.

"Are you saying... it's that kid again?" Marcus guessed reluctantly.

"Other than him, I can't think of any other possibility." Barton's voice carried certainty. "The first time we discovered his trail was near the crime scene on George Street;this afternoon, an informant said they saw him in the yard on Berner Street. Marcus, do you still think all these are coincidences?"

"But it doesn't make sense!" Marcus scratched his hair irritably. "A stowaway laborer, an amateur, how does he know all this? Did he decipher Cartographer Karl's diary in just one night? That was encrypted using our Germanic antiqua script!"

This question was also the core puzzle troubling Barton.

He shook his head and said, "I don't know how he managed it. Perhaps he has secrets we're unaware of. Perhaps he's not as simple as he appears on the surface."

"However, one thing is clear: our target of pursuit has transformed from a mere 'thief' into a 'key figure' possessing extremely high intelligence value."

Marcus fell silent.

Though reckless by nature, he wasn't stupid. Barton's analysis left him unable to refute.

That Eastern man's actions had repeatedly put him ahead of them.

While they were still laboriously tracking the long-dissipated "Aether Fluctuations" left by the UMA using their instruments, the other party seemed able to predict the UMA's movements in advance.

The value of such ability in a hunting operation was immeasurable.

"So... what should we do now?" Marcus asked, his tone unconsciously carrying a hint of seeking instruction.

"The plan needs to change." Barton made a calm decision. "Headquarters' order was 'recover Association assets, eliminate those in the know.' But now, the person in the know himself has demonstrated value far exceeding the assets themselves."

"I will immediately send a telegram to Geneva headquarters to clarify my viewpoint. I recommend upgrading the operation level from 'elimination' to 'observation and contact.'"

"Contact?" Marcus's eyes widened. "With that kid who's as slippery as an eel?"

"Correct." The corners of Barton's mouth curled into a meaningful arc. "Moreover, we can no longer use this crude approach. A cornered rat will bite. We need to change our method, one that makes him... actively come to us himself."

His gaze once again turned toward the filthy, grimy streets of the White Church District.

Meanwhile, in a cheap apartment in the neighborhood next to Mitre Square, Lin Jie leaned against the window, silently listening as the sharp police whistle echoed through the night sky until it faded away.

His heart had also experienced intense fluctuations along with that whistle.

Success.

His "prophecy" had been confirmed in a way he himself hadn't fully anticipated.

The old patrol officer not only believed him but actually took action and genuinely encountered that UMA at the scene.

Lin Jie felt no joy at the success of his plan;instead, he was enveloped by an even deeper chill.

In his plan, Old Patrol Officer Weston's role should have been to arrive first at the scene after the incident, verifying the accuracy of his prophecy by discovering the body.

He never imagined Weston would choose to set an ambush in advance and, through his own efforts, frighten away that UMA, thus preventing a massacre.

This old patrol officer's courage and sense of responsibility far exceeded his estimates, and this burdened him with heavy guilt.

He had exploited a righteous policeman's goodness, placing him in the most direct, deadliest danger.

This feeling was terrible.

What made him even more uneasy were the potential chain reactions this incident might trigger.

Those two I.A.R.C. investigators, Barton and Marcus, were certainly also monitoring Jack the Ripper's movements.

Tonight's abnormality at Mitre Square would absolutely not escape their notice.

What would they think? Would they detect his shadow behind this?

What about Scotland Yard? Would anyone believe an old patrol officer's claim that he "scared away" Jack the Ripper?

Would Officer Weston consequently be labeled insane, or worse, accused of being Jack the Ripper's accomplice?

The ripples from the stone he had thrown were already spreading in completely uncontrollable directions.

He had thought himself the chess player, only to find he remained merely a chess piece, helplessly pushed around by several powerful forces on this giant chessboard called "London."

"I must be more proactive." Lin Jie murmured to himself.

He could no longer hide in the shadows, passively waiting for the situation to develop;his previous plan to use the UMA against I.A.R.C. was already becoming somewhat uncontrollable.

He now needed more intelligence, needed leverage to negotiate with I.A.R.C. on equal terms.

And right now, his only leverage was his knowledge of the "Jack the Ripper UMA." He had to find that UMA's weakness before anyone else.

He once again took out that heavy German diary.

This time, he turned to the sketch page depicting that UMA codenamed "Mist Walker."

He stared at the distorted, slender figure and the German annotations beside it that were as incomprehensible as celestial script, feeling for the first time such an urgent desire to understand them.