The baby steps of a detective

Over time, I learned that I had been reincarnated as the son of a noble in a small town called Lustasia, part of the Kingdom of Glindelof. For some reason I still don’t understand, my name and surname remained the same, and my appearance was identical to my old self—maybe I took the body of an alternate version of me.

Since I was little, I would sneak through the mansion’s hallways to explore it, driving my new mother insane. I was amazed by all the luxuries I now lived with: extraordinary food, comfortable furniture, and warm baths. But what I always escaped to was the mansion’s library—filled with new information and endless knowledge that opened countless doors to this world. From time to time they caught me, but I would pretend I was just playing like an innocent child. Who knew what would happen if my parents discovered that their two-year-old son could read and understand complex books? I didn’t take long to master the language—it wasn’t very complex and had similarities to English.

Thanks to that, I was able to learn the basics. Glindelof is one of the largest kingdoms in this fantasy world, inhabited by a great variety of species. Even so, humans are the majority and rule with dominance. Other races live apart from humans, scattered in small tribes throughout the kingdom. The largest tribes are the elves, who hide in magical forests mastering hunting; the Greenites, who are fierce, barbaric green-skinned creatures like goblins, ogres, and reptiles; and the dwarves, who live in caves forging sacred weapons capable of rivaling magic. At the beginning of time, these tribes and humanity were in constant conflict—until the demons invaded. A new distant kingdom with wild, destructive creatures that exist only to spread chaos. Whenever they can, they raid and attack villages at will, leaving destruction behind. The entire kingdom united to fight them, but so far, there has never been an end to that war.

To fight back, they used the dwarves’ sacred weapons and advanced in the field of magic. That led me to study the most important factor in this world: magic. In this world, there are five types of magic. The first is basic magic, which is used for daily life and is the easiest to master—like lighting an oven with a finger or watering plants from the palm of your hand. In this way, magic became the equivalent of technology in my old world. Then there’s enhancement magic, which boosts a person’s capabilities such as speed, strength, and endurance. Combat magic is the hardest to learn. It’s divided into three subtypes: basic, intermediate, and advanced. Basic combat magic, as its name implies, can be learned quickly and without much training but isn’t very powerful—it can only perform simple spells like minor light magic to generate small attacks or shields. Intermediate combat magic can produce various elements from the palms, like large offensive forms such as fireballs, torrents of water, wind barriers, and more. Advanced combat magic is nearly impossible to acquire—only experienced mages can use it, capable of manipulating nature and the laws of space and time. The fourth magic is healing magic, which can only be obtained by followers of the Goddess of Kindness by walking a righteous path and following her teachings. Lastly, the most dangerous magic is demonic magic, which only demons can use. This includes curses or destructive powers. Despite its great strength, it usually brings long-term consequences that worsen their madness and demonic traits.

There were also artifacts imbued with magic that had other useful effects for daily life or dwarven sacred weapons.

After learning all this, I saw how this world was in terrible shape because of the war. But I knew there was hope. Maybe being a superhero wasn’t as far from reality as I thought when I was a kid. Maybe I could save this world and truly make it better, instead of just solving small cases. Surely, with my intelligence, I could master magic and revolutionize it. I figured my detective days were over.

Or so I thought.

My parents in this world were very strict. They never wanted me to leave the mansion to explore this beautiful world. They denied my dream of becoming a knight or a mage by refusing to let me take swordsmanship lessons or hire a magic tutor. They only wanted me to take their place as Lustasia’s noble. Well, I guess I rushed things and scared them when I asked for all of that out of the blue at four years old—like a child prodigy who already knew everything about this world without needing school. That just gave them more reasons to never let me out. And even if I tried, the mansion was crawling with guards who always caught me. It was too hard in the body of a child.

Time passed like that, and I started to get bored of so much luxury. I had everything within reach, but it all felt empty. It felt like this wasn’t really my true self—and that my old self from my previous life was slowly fading away inside this new identity of an aristocrat. 

Until the worst happened.

When I was ten, I went to the library at night like always. It was always empty, but for some reason, the door was open. I stepped inside quietly, wondering if I’d gained a fellow reader. But no.

Blood—everywhere.

My father of this world lay on the floor, blood pouring from every orifice. No sign of a wound.

A breeze hit me. The window was open. The culprit had escaped.

A heavy feeling weighed on my body. Not because of the man on the ground—I never felt close to him. But because of the memory of my death. I’d seen plenty of bodies in my life, but this was the first time I felt sick to my stomach. I remembered the face of that damned prosecutor and my lieutenant watching me in my final moments. I tried to get out to get some air.

But as soon as I stepped out, there she was—my mother, wearing a white nightgown and holding a lit candle. She screamed when she saw the body behind me. She tried to hug me, sobbing, but I didn’t flinch. I stared at her coldly and said:

“What are you doing? Call the guards.”

She froze but, seeing my serious face, ran to get the guards.

They contacted the town officers, who brought us to their station for protection.

They separated my mother and me into different rooms. In front of me sat an obese man in uniform, arms crossed, as if he knew I was hiding something.

“I’m the captain of Lustasia’s security garrison, boy. You can call me Gustav.”

I didn’t answer. I only wondered if this man was just as corrupt as my old lieutenant.

“You don’t seem too sad or scared, even though your father died just two hours ago.”

“I’m just in shock,” I replied flatly.

“If you say so. Normally, I’d ask you some questions, but I think it’s obvious who did it.”

“Oh, really?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Yes. Given the many cases of rogue demons breaking into houses, our conclusion is that one of them came in through the window and cast a curse that drained all his fluids until he died.”

He explained every detail, not caring that he was telling a child. I didn’t care either—this information only showed me how fragile this kingdom’s police system really was.

“You couldn’t be more wrong,” I interrupted him.

“What did you say, you disrespectful brat?” His eyes widened in disbelief at a child talking down to him.

“You’re wrong. You didn’t even examine the crime scene and you’re already saying it was a demon. I only saw it for two minutes and I already know who did it.”

“Boy, I’m not playing games.” He tried to give me a lesson

“Neither am I. I’m always serious when it comes to a case. Tell me—did you inspect the window?”

“Yes, there were blood traces on it. The same as your father’s.”

“Good, good. And what about the garden outside the window?”

“What do you want me to say? It was empty.”

“Not a single drop of blood. So how did the demon’s blood trail just stop out of nowhere?”

“Well, maybe he flew away. There are demons with wings or who can use flight magic.”

“And what—none of the guards saw a blood-soaked demon flying under the moonlight? It’s already unlikely for one to break in through our garden window, but escaping unseen while covered in blood? Impossible.”

“Then what do you suggest? Only a demon could’ve done something like this, boy.”

I was surprised he was still listening. I guessed he’d decided to see if I was bluffing or not.

“Poison.”

“There are no poisons like that in this kingdom.”

“But there are in others. As you should know, a merchant from a distant continent recently came to Lustasia. He was selling all kinds of exotic medicines. My mother bought a huge amount of perfumes and beauty potions from him, saying she’d sell them around town.”

“Wait, you’re saying your mother—”

“Yes, she used the chance to buy a poison hidden among those perfumes. I know the merchant sold it because I read his catalog to see if there was anything interesting. In there was a poison that could drain fluids from your body to make you slimmer. The recommendation was just a few drops, but if you take too much, you won’t have a drop of blood left.”

“Wait, wait—boy, what you’re saying might be possible, but you’re missing two essential things: proof, and a reason why your mother would murder her husband.”

“I could say the same to you—you have no proof of the demon or a motive. Nothing was even stolen.”

Gustav fell silent, sighing, looking down, with nowhere to hide when he realized a child had him cornered.

“Proof number one—” I raised one finger. “The poison takes time to work, unlike a curse which kills instantly and leaves a mess. That day, my mother served the wine to my father herself instead of the butler for some reason. So I suggest you check the wine glass he used. Proof number two—my mother probably waited for him to die, dipped her fingers in his blood without staining her pretty white nightgown, and spread it around the floor and window before leaving it open. Supposedly, I found the body first, so my mother shouldn’t have touched it at all since I told her to call the guards—but if you check under her nails, I bet there’s blood. Proof number three—I’m the only one who ever goes to the library in my house. Otherwise, it’s just decoration. So what was my father doing there at that hour? The truth is, I always go to the library at night to read in peace, but one night I saw my father kissing one of the maids. So I concluded they were having an affair. My mother probably found out and was afraid that my father would leave her, which led her to kill him. She probably sent him a fake note from the maid asking him to meet her in the library right when the poison would take effect. Maybe my mother burned the note in the main hall’s fireplace, so if you check, you’ll probably find the remains. So it wasn’t a demon—it was just a simple crime of passion. Any questions?”

Gustav was speechless. He looked at a file he had on me, then looked back at me, astonished.

“It says here you’re ten years old,” he muttered in disbelief.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Shit—but you just talked to me like you’re forty-three.”

Technically, that’s true.

“Tell me, boy, have you ever thought about working at the security garrison as an officer in maybe a few years?”

I gave a slight smile and nodded.

“I’d love to. But I’d like to be called by another title.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Detective.”

And so, Gustav investigated the evidence I gave him—and it was all found. My mother was found guilty and was taken to the gallows. In her final moments, she looked at me, crying desperately, begging for forgiveness. But I answered her stare with deep hatred.

Criminals don’t deserve forgiveness. That’s something I learned by dying. You’ll never replace my real mother.

A world where people take advantage of chaos. Seems it’s more like my old world than I thought.

But this time—I won’t make the same mistake.