The Record Of Barton’s Fantastical Events

Chapter 11: Dungeon Master

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On the first floor of the North Bureau Headquarters of the Barton Police Department, the place was different from the usual noisy scene. The detectives all looked sluggish and were lying in front of their desks. Coulson's head was like a float on the water, moving up and down. He was so sleepy! His shiny forehead occasionally hit the table, and at this time he would wake up a little. The pen in his hand would quickly fill in a few words on the form in front of him, and then his eyelids would close again and continue to float up and down like water.

"Wake up! Coulson! Detective Coulson!"

Coulson felt his non-human shoulder being pushed. He sat up with excitement and shouted: "The report will be written soon! It will be written immediately!"

But when he looked at the form in front of him, he saw that it was a graffiti he had made while half asleep. It was far from the written report from last night's surveillance mission!

"Hmph!" Someone picked up the report in front of Coulson: "Do you want to hand over this thing! My three-year-old daughter is more talented in painting than you!"

Coulson pushed away his seat and stood up. His sleepiness had completely disappeared. The person in front of him was the Chief of the Barton Police Department, and Coulson was just a detective from the North District Homicide Division. This was his boss's boss. Boss—Director Cologne.

"Director Cologne! I'll rewrite it right away!" The arrival of this big shot is more effective than ten cups of coffee!

"No need." Director Colon crumpled the graffiti into a ball and threw it away, waving his hand. "I asked your partner. Nothing happened yesterday." Colon glanced at James, who was sitting at the table opposite Coulson, and raised his head.

James was stuffing a donut into his mouth at this time, and Cologne frowned slightly. He didn't understand why General Lance's only son was different from the rumors. It was said that he was a calm man with an "iron" will honed in the army, but what Cologne saw now was just a second-generation official with gluttony and lack of etiquette.

"Attention, everyone!" Colon ignored James for the time being, raised his voice, and woke up the sleepy police detectives. When everyone saw this big shot, they immediately became energetic and stood up one after another.

"We have been working all night for three consecutive days. It's been very hard for everyone. I already know that nothing suspicious happened. Now everyone, go back and have a good rest. You can do the paperwork later! That's it, let's break up!"

The tired detectives breathed a sigh of relief, packed up their things, and prepared to have a good rest. Of course, when the sun goes down, they will appear on street corners, in cars, and in bars everywhere, monitoring the city of Barton at night.

"Coulson, James, follow me." Colon turned around and walked to the homicide team leader's office on the first floor.

The team leader was not there, there was only a guy in a gray hat sitting in the middle, looking a little reserved.

Detective Coulson habitually observed this thin man and began to build a profile: his muscles lacked exercise, his skin was pale, his lower body was slightly wider, and his hip muscles were loose. He was a person who sat in the office for a long time.

"This is Detective Coulson and Detective James (Lance)." Colon began to introduce: "This is Mr. Fitz, an employee of Barton Telecom's North District Communications Bureau."

The man named Fitz stretched out his right hand and shook hands with the two of them nervously, "Just call me Fitz."

Coulson has already guessed that there has been a communication problem in Barton North District this week. The phone calls between the government and citizens occasionally fail to get through. It happened that two senators visited yesterday. Smooth communication between Barton City and the outside world is very important, so the problem of poor communication has become an important matter.

This was not part of the work of the Barton Police Department, and Coulson was confused as to why this man named Fitz came to the homicide department.

Colon nodded to Fitz, "Take the two detectives to the scene." Then he turned to Coulson and the two of them, seriously: "Remember, we don't want what you see next to be spread! If Barton Daily gets wind of it, !I will take away your police badge!"

Coulson was startled and immediately saluted: "Yes! Director!"

When the three of them exited, Colon glanced at James, frowning but saying nothing.

The three of them left the police station and got into Fitz's car, which was an old van with the 'Barton Communications' logo printed on the door. It seems that the vehicles that were eliminated by the city government were bought by this Fitz.

"Detectives, have you had breakfast? I know a very good burger restaurant." Fitz's voice was a little nervous, and his hand holding the steering wheel was shaking as he was looking for a topic to relax himself.

"Don't be nervous, you're safe." Coulson had seen many people like this, and he could guess that this person had obviously seen something he shouldn't have seen. In fear, he came to the police station to seek help, but what he saw would have a bad impact, so Chief Cologne issued a confidentiality order for the mission.

"We don't know where we are going yet?" Coulson tried to calm down his tone, "Fitz, maybe you can tell us our destination first."

"Well. Well, we are going to my friend's house. His name is David. Well, to be precise, we are going to the basement of his house..."

Coulson noticed that this guy's hands were shaking more and more, and his expression became frightened.

"I, uh, I found something that looks a lot like David, but I'm not sure..."

Coulson frowned. To be honest, he didn't understand what Fitz wanted to express at all. He put a hand on Fitz's trembling hand holding the steering wheel to help him stabilize the direction of the van, and asked: "Big Wei, is your friend David in the basement of his house?"

"No... this is what I'm not sure about..." There was confusion and fear on Fitz's face, "David is working now..."

"What does David do?"

"Like me, we work at the Barton Telecommunications Bureau. We are colleagues and friends... "

Coulson thought for a while and asked, "That thing you saw, that thing in David's basement, is it alive?"

Fitz shook his head: "No, sir. That's something I've seen that was too dead to die..."

"Fitz. Where is your burger restaurant?" James, who was sitting in the back seat, suddenly asked, "I'm hungry, I need food."

Coulson turned to look at James angrily, but he met James' eyes without any emotion.

"Freak." Coulson muttered and said nothing.

This is not the first time Coulson has done this. He expressed this emotion when he first discovered this guy's amazing appetite. But at the time, it was just a joke from a veteran to a rookie, and as time went by, almost a week after becoming a partner with James, the joke became a mantra.

James got a Big Mac as he wished, and Coulson ignored his partner. Gradually, he also figured out the temper of this second-generation official. As long as he was given food, he would not get in the way. So when the van stopped in front of Fitz's friend David's house, Coulson gave the order to stay behind to James, who was still dealing with Hamburg.

"During this period, many citizens reported problems with the telephone lines." Fitz took Coulson, found the key on the door eaves, and entered David's home. "So I often go around the city to check on problems such as lines. .David wasn't good at these jobs, so he stayed in the control room."

The two walked through the living room, which was a very ordinary two-story house. The first floor was the living room and kitchen, and the second floor was the bedroom. The furnishings and decorations are also very normal.

The door to the basement was under the stairs on the second floor. Fitz opened the door, and a hint of coldness came over him.

"David's house was inherited from his parents, so he has a big basement!" Fitz led the way, walking down: "Every Wednesday night, we come here with our friends to play the 'Dungeons and Dragons' game... "

"What game?" Coulson asked subconsciously.

"Uh, a role-playing game... Anyway, when we came here yesterday, we found that David was not at home." Fitz turned on the light in the basement. As expected, the basement was very large. Different from ordinary people’s basements for storing sundries, this basement is filled with swords made of foam, capes and hats of various colors...

Coulson roughly imagined the game and added two more words to Fitz's profile - nerd.

"David is always the 'Dungeon Master'. Without him, we can't play the game." Fitz walked in one direction and continued: "So we waited for a while, but he never showed up, friends. After giving up, they left each other.”

Coulson looked around. He also had character costumes, but the types were not magicians, elves, etc., but doctors, nurses, judges, prisoners, etc... Do you understand

"David never misses Wednesday game night, so I'm a little worried." Fitz had already walked over to a wooden box lying horizontally. He opened the latch and flipped up the lid of the wooden box, revealing the white freezer inside. " So I stayed a little longer. And then, I discovered this."

Fitz opened the freezer door.

Detective Coulson stepped closer and took a look.

No wonder Director Colon doesn't want this to be made public. Because so far, all the twelve missing victims are women. And now, lying in this freezer is a harmless citizen of Barton City with a legitimate job.

"Why do you think this is your friend David?" Coulson frowned. The head and most of the body had disappeared. Because of the freezing, the forensic doctor could not confirm the time of death.

Fitz stretched out his finger tremblingly and pointed somewhere: "Tattoo, David likes being the 'Dungeon Master' very much, so he got 'dm' tattooed on his body..."

Coulson looked at the two letters, sighed, and patted Fitz on the shoulder: "I'm sorry." Although Fitz had always used 'like' before, with such a tattoo as evidence, this person can already confirm It was his friend David.

Coulson closed the freezer and pulled Fitz, whose eyes were red, to the side: "Now, follow me to 'David' who is still working."