The Murderer Doctor and the Singing Saint

Chapter 4: Investigator Claude

I had a dream.

In a dense, choking fog, a demon approached me.

Its eyes were bloodshot, the depth of its pupils immeasurable, and black blood oozed from its mouth. Its skin, burnt dark red, was cracked and peeling, and its teeth were as sharp as a beast’s.

I tried to raise my sword to confront it, but in the dream, I had no weapon.

“Don’t run.”

The demon spoke to me—and that’s when I woke up.

Why had the demon told me not to run? It could’ve simply torn out my throat.

Maybe… that demon was me.

I tossed off the sweat-soaked blanket and stepped out of the inn room, trying to calm my pounding heart.

After parting ways with Arisa, I continued traveling from village to village, offering medical aid.

Several days passed, and the murderous impulse didn’t resurface. I thought perhaps it was for the better and kept moving.

One day, after finishing treatment in a village and preparing to head to the next, I noticed a man in a remote corner of town.

He looked distressed, wearing clothes hastily thrown on, glancing around anxiously.

“Is something wrong?”

“Know anywhere I can rent a horse around here? Or someone who’s got one? I’m in a rush, so make it quick.”

He must’ve had some urgent business. But as a wanderer, I wouldn’t know where to find a horse here.

“I’m sorry. I just arrived myself, so I’m not sure.”

“Useless. Get lost.”

He snapped and turned away.

But his arm moved oddly—twisted, clearly not in a normal condition.

“Excuse me, but your arm appears to be injured. May I take a look? I’m a wandering doctor. I don’t charge…”

“Didn’t I say I don’t need it? Get lost already!”

He cut me off, shouting irritably.

He wasn’t exactly threatening, but his refusal was firm, so I turned to leave.

And then, my vision began to turn crimson. The world around me went unnaturally silent, and my breathing grew heavy.

As my consciousness slipped, one emotion dominated—

Murderous intent.

I wanted to kill the man in front of me.

I didn’t know why, but I could feel the bloodlust creeping in, overtaking my thoughts.

My hand reached behind my waist for a sword—but instead found the surgical tools I always carried.

Cold steel in my grip, I stepped toward him.

“What the hell are you doing? Get back, now!”

The man drew a hidden dagger, shouting.

I wanted to explain, to say it was a misunderstanding—but no words came.

Just like the previous two times. If this continued, I’d kill again.

“This is your last warning. Back off, or I’ll kill you!”

He pointed his blade at me, voice trembling. But I no longer saw him as a person.

I could hear screams—smell blood. Every nerve in my body was on edge.

Just as I lunged forward, a melody reached my ears.

Arisa’s music—the one that brought peace.

Just recalling that melody began to soothe the bloodlust.

I hurriedly pulled out the sound orb she’d given me. As the soft music flowed, I felt the murderous urge fade.

Regaining my senses, I bowed my head to the man.

“My apologies.”

“…Tch. Pathetic.”

I turned and left the scene at once.

***

After learning to suppress the bloodlust, I worked harder than ever.

The idea that I no longer had to commit crimes drove me forward.

“Doctor, you’re pushing yourself too hard. Please, rest a little…”

“I’m fine. Where’s the next patient?”

Whenever I felt tired, I thought of the people I’d killed. I couldn’t rest until I had atoned.

I had no idea how many villages I’d passed through or how many lives I’d saved when an unexpected visitor came.

“I’m Investigator Claude.”

He held up a badge hanging around his neck. It was unmistakably a Vatican investigator’s emblem.

I returned to my room at the inn with him. As soon as he sat, he pulled out a notebook and pen.

“I already know everything, Professor Kiru.”

He spoke before I could say a word.

“I know you’ve entered the Papal State. I know you met with Saint Arisa. So don’t try to weasel out with lies—I know everything.”

His tone was hard and authoritarian.

It was my first real interrogation, and I could barely gather my wits before I shook my head and answered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll repeat myself—lies won’t work. The two murders… they were your doing, weren’t they?”

“Murders…?”

“A traveling doctor killing villagers and fleeing the scene. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t understand how you reached that conclusion.”

Claude ran a hand through his hair and sighed, clearly displeased.

“I told you—I already know everything. We gathered eyewitness accounts from the murder scenes, and this is what we got.”

He opened his notebook and held it out. It showed a sketch that looked unmistakably like me.

“Still going to deny it?”

“Looks like someone disguised themselves as me. I wasn’t in those villages.”

“Then why did you visit Saint Arisa’s mansion? Seeking absolution after murder, perhaps?”

“If you doubt me that much, why not ask her what she heard in confession?”

“Watch your tongue.”

Claude’s voice dropped cold and sharp.

Insulting a Saint was taboo in the Papal State. Of course someone working for the Vatican would be offended.

“Confession belongs to the Saint. She will never reveal its contents. Asking about it is an insult to her holiness.”

“I had no intention of insulting her.”

“Regardless, don’t you think it’s reasonable to suspect she let you into her home to forgive your crimes?”

“That’s a baseless assumption. I owed her my life from eight years ago. I simply wanted to thank her while I was in the Papal State. Nothing more.”

“Then why did she faint after touching you? Because she heard a murderer’s song, perhaps?”

“Saint Arisa said I had a beautiful song. I’d appreciate it if you refrained from saying such things.”

We glared at each other, ready to tear one another apart.

Claude exhaled again, tucked his notebook away, and stood.

“I’ll leave for now. But soon, a mind reader will arrive from the Vatican. Once they do, your lies will be exposed. Enjoy your last moments of freedom.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

“Hmph.”

After Claude left, I collapsed onto the bed. My whole body felt drained.

But he was right—I didn’t have much time. Once the Vatican's telepath arrived, they’d uncover everything.

Unless I erased my memories, they’d know I was a killer.

I jumped up, grabbed my bag. I had to go—farther away, to help more people.

I couldn’t stay in the Papal State anymore. I had to leave.

There was no way the Vatican’s mind readers would follow me beyond its borders.

As I left the inn, I considered: Rederan? Or the Veron Alliance?

“You’re running from a telepath? It’s useless. No matter where you go, we will find you. You killed one of the Pope’s own people. Even if you flee to the edge of the continent, we will find you.”

Claude stood outside the inn, preparing a teleportation spell. He glared at me.

I didn’t answer. Instead, I looked at the people around him.

White armor, holy insignias—it was obvious who they were.

The Pope’s Legion.

Directly commanded by the Pope himself.

Their presence was revered by all citizens, and their strength was legendary. A single knight could face a thousand enemies.

Even I, a mere scholar from Tarinas University, knew of their reputation.

Two knights flanked Claude, eyeing me cautiously.

I couldn’t see their faces behind their helmets, but I could imagine the scorn.

“Sir Claude, are you really going to let him go? He’ll harm others again.”

“But we have no proof to arrest him now.”

“Why not pass judgment here? The Pope would surely understand.”

“My authority cannot be used so lightly. As members of the Legion, you should exercise patience.”

Even so, the Legion paladins insisted on killing me. If Claude hadn’t intervened, they might have acted on their own.

As I walked past them, I felt that familiar emotion rise within me.

Murderous intent.

I didn’t know why it surged now—but these were the Pope’s Legion.

If I gave in, I’d be executed on the spot.

I forced myself to recall Arisa’s melody, reaching into my pocket for the sound orb.

I pressed it to my ear, breathing deeply as the music played.

But something was wrong.

The music… didn’t help.

Instead of calming, the bloodlust flared—as if firewood had been thrown onto the flames.

No… no…

I tried to remember the melody Arisa had played and ran—trying to put distance between me and the Legion.

But the red-stained bloodlust rooted my legs to the ground.

“What business do you have?”

One of the Legion knights addressed me.

I turned, wordless, and approached the three of them.

My vision bled red. I could think no more.

Sensing the change, the knights drew their weapons.

“What are you doing?”

Claude raised his sword too—but I couldn’t hear a thing.

Only the stench of blood. The sound of screams.

Only one thought remained:

Kill them.

And so, I charged the Pope’s Legion—with my bare hands.