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Direct intervention was difficult, but Abel could at least provide advice on the investigation. After all, it was the prosecution that had initially requested his advice.

He headed straight for the building behind the courthouse. But, just as he was about to enter, the guard blocking the entrance stepped in his way.

"Look here. Anyone can enter that way… Your Highness, Duke of Carriers?" The guard\'s tone shifted, realizing who Abel was.

Since Abel was dressed in casual attire, the guard hadn\'t immediately recognized him. Once the guard saw his face, recognition dawned, and he stiffened.

This was something that could anger someone with authority. But it wasn\'t intentional; after all, the investigation room was a restricted area.

It was worth speaking sternly.

"The prosecutor in charge is Baron Anders Cantrell. Where can I meet him?"

"I will send the message right away!"

The guard\'s stiff demeanor softened with Abel\'s gentle response. He ran off somewhere, and soon another person arrived. At first, Abel thought it was someone coming to guide him. But upon seeing the person\'s attire, it was clear they were not a guard.

"Are you the Duke of Carrier?" the newcomer asked.

"Yes, I am."

"Nice to meet you. My name is Eddie Hewitt."

"Ah, so you are Count Hewitt."

After realizing who stood before him, Abel greeted him politely. At the same time, a question formed in Abel\'s mind.

*What is this person doing in front of the prosecutor\'s office so early in the morning?*

Then, Abel remembered what Judge Emir Colund had mentioned earlier. *This man is the father of the suspect, who is the third generation of the only son.*

Abel thought he knew why Count Hewitt was here.

*Isn\'t this a cliché? A powerful family whose precious child is under investigation for murder.* If you belonged to a family like the Count\'s, you had no choice but to exert pressure. The unspoken plea was obvious: *Don\'t accuse my son of being a murderer.*

Abel looked at Count Hewitt with cold eyes.

However, the words that came out of Count Hewitt\'s mouth were far beyond anything Abel had anticipated.

"Your Highness, the Duke of Carriers."

"Yes, go ahead."

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"If it\'s a request related to the trial, it would be best to stop right there."

"I know, I shouldn\'t do this, but I must ask."

Seeing how earnest Count Hewitt was, Abel decided to at least hear him out. He nodded vaguely, even though he was confident he wouldn\'t be influenced by whatever was said.

Count Hewitt immediately spoke up.

"Please, reveal the truth."

"Yes. As a parent, it\'s natural to think that way…"

*Wait, what?* Abel blinked, wondering if he had misheard.

Abel stared at Count Hewitt intently, sensing something strange. Count Hewitt\'s face had turned pale, and what he said next was even more startling.

"I am terrified of my son."

Abel\'s thoughts spun in confusion. *No, the suspect is a seven-year-old child. Why would he say he\'s scared of him?* From an adult\'s perspective, no matter how much a child threatens, it should be laughable. And from the looks of it, Count Hewitt seemed to possess some level of swordsmanship. He had a stocky build and calluses on his palms.

Still, there were parts that made sense.

"Wait a minute, a kid with no powers is accused of murder?"

Wasn\'t that fact alone terrifying enough?

Abel recalled a movie about a child adopted as a beautiful angel but who ended up with a dark side.

*Surely it\'s not that bad…*

Abel made his way to the interrogation room, where Baron Cantrell greeted him.

"Ah! Your Highness, thank you so much for coming."

"No problem. We assist each other when difficulties arise. Has anything else come up?"

Baron Cantrell sighed. He was having trouble even gathering basic facts. The reason was simple: only a severed right hand had been discovered, and the rest of the body was still missing. The case was being investigated as a murder solely because the suspect had claimed so.

"I\'m seriously losing my mind. We\'ve searched everywhere he said, but we haven\'t found anything," Cantrell said, exasperated.

"So he lied?"

"They\'re just playing with us."

"Any witnesses?"

"All he said was that he saw her with the victim."

"Well, it\'s worth looking into."

"In addition, the suspect\'s maternal uncle is interfering with the investigation."

"And who might that be?"

"His name is Sean Malone. He\'s the vice president of the Bar Association."

Abel nodded absently, but something about that name felt familiar. As he furrowed his brows, Cantrell quickly added more details.

"Do you remember Marquis Wesley Malone? We talked about him a few weeks ago during the forum."

"Oh, that person? And he shares a last name with the vice president?"

"Yes, they\'re related. The suspect is the grandson of Marquis Malone."

"Oh? Was this the same grandson you mentioned at the last debate who was about to go on trial?"

"No, that was Bill Malone, charged with mutual assault. The suspect in this case is Norman Hewitt."

"So, different cases then."

"Yes."

Coincidentally, both grandsons of Wesley Malone were on trial. What a family. It was impressive, in a sense, how violent the younger generations already were. But there was no need to dwell on that.

The pressing issue was Norman Hewitt, the suspect in the bodyless murder case.

"Let me see the boy\'s face first," Abel requested.

"Right this way," Cantrell gestured, leading him to the interrogation room. Inside, a boy sat on a chair—Norman Hewitt, with blond hair, sky-blue eyes, and fine features.

*He would probably grow up to be quite handsome.*

Abel decided to check more details.

=====

**<Person Information>**

Name: Norman Hewitt

Status: Eldest son of a count\'s family

Position: None

Relationship: No acquaintance

**Status:** Extreme calm, confident he will never be punished, complete lack of guilt or fear, preference for stimulating situations.

**Overall Ability:** C

=====

*What is this?* Abel frowned at the overwhelming information displayed. The position and relationship tabs were fine, but the details in the status tab were eye-popping.

*He killed someone and feels no guilt or fear?*

Abel recalled encountering someone similar before: Toby Urquhart, the publican from the Marquess of Yeats, who had exhibited similar behavior. But Norman Hewitt felt different.

*Is he a psychopath?* Abel wondered. A human devoid of empathy, someone impulsive and aggressive. To Norman, the act of killing his friend and being taken to the prosecutor\'s office was likely just an exciting event.

There were few things more provocative than this.

"Your Highness, Duke of Carriers?"

A voice pulled Abel from his thoughts. He turned to see a man with a shabby appearance, someone who bore a striking resemblance to Marquis Wesley Malone.

"Vice Chairman Sean Malone, I presume?" Abel greeted.

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"Yes, Your Highness. Thank you for your time."

"No problem. What brings you here?"

"May I ask just one question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why has the Supreme Court arrived at the prosecutor\'s headquarters? Surely you haven\'t come to investigate my nephew?"

Abel understood the unspoken accusation: why had he come, and why was he involved? Normally, any prosecutor would step back under such pressure, given Sean Malone\'s seniority and his family\'s influence. But none of that was a threat to Abel.

"The prosecutors will conduct the investigation. I\'m simply here as an advisor."

"An advisor, Your Honor?"

"I don\'t have the authority to investigate directly."

"Is that allowed? I\'m sure the court rules say—"

Abel interrupted him. "Attorney Malone?"

"Oh, perhaps I\'ve said too much. I\'ll let you refute my claim."

"Thank you, I\'ll say just one thing."

"Yes?"

"Please study properly."

"What do you mean? No one is more knowledgeable about court rules than I am!"

"Perhaps that was true with the old rules."

"What?"

"Everything has changed."

"When?"

"Just recently. So, stop quoting non-existent rules and say what you need to. If you keep interrupting, I\'ll have you removed from the interrogation room."

"… … "

The outdated rules restricting judges had been abolished after Abel\'s request to the emperor. Attorney Sean Malone looked indignant, but he couldn\'t argue any longer. He left the room and returned with a large booklet.

*Court rules? Where did he even get that?* Abel thought.

But the rules had changed. It was clearly written, so there was nothing more to say.

"... It really has changed."

"Yes. So stop being stubborn and focus on your job."

Abel watched Attorney Sean Malone scurry off with the court rulebook in hand, his expression a mix of frustration and disbelief.

The Duke of Carriers stood calmly, his gaze returning to the suspect in the interrogation room.

Norman Hewitt sat there, as still as ever, his eyes betraying none of the tension that the situation should have warranted.

Abel could feel the air in the room shift as he observed the boy\'s unusual calmness.

"How strange," Abel muttered under his breath. Despite the evidence—or rather, the lack of it—the boy showed no signs of anxiety, no flicker of fear. It was as if this situation was a game to him, one that he fully expected to win.

Baron Cantrell, standing beside Abel, also wore a look of frustration.