Chapter 3: An Unexpected Assistant, An Unwanted Murder

Morning in this strange world was becoming… routine. That scared me a little. Routine meant I was getting used to things. Me. The guy who used to struggle to get out of bed back on Earth, now waking up to this condition, washing my face in a crystal-clear water, and cooking something that suspiciously tasted like omelet even though the eggs came from a chicken with three horns. Don’t mention me where I found these. It was only village tree forest side while returning home yesterday evening after a long stone found game.

I was scrubbing my table when it hit me like a rock. The client. Damn it, I had forgotten someone was supposed to come today. The “mission” yesterday had been vague, but I knew the system had dangled something. And then, just like any good detective, I proceeded to completely forget it.

“Ah crap, I’m useless,” I told to myself, dropping the rag. My little detective office—if you could call it that—was just one room with mismatched furniture and a desk that wobbled like a drunk nad it’s not my fault you guys who are reading it.

I sat down, trying to look serious, like Sherlock Holmes waiting for an aristocrat to barge in. Except, instead of aristocrats, I only had my stomach growling and a fly buzzing against the window.

I waited. And waited. And… waited.

“Maybe clients here run on UK Standard Time,” I muttered.

Hours passed. I had already rearranged my pencils twice, tried polishing my boots, and even started humming the Doraemon theme song when finally—finally—the door creaked open.

And who stood there?

Not a new client. Not a suspicious cloaked figure.

But yesterday’s girl.

She peeked in, then stepped forward with this polite little bow.

“Um… thank you for yesterday,” she said, voice softer than butter (I like cheese more). “I was thinking… if you would let me… I could be your assistant?”

Assistant? Did I hear that right?

For a moment I blinked at her, brain lagging like a bad Wi-Fi connection. Assistant? Here? This wasn’t a New York detective agency. I wasn’t Sherlock Holmes, no matter how much I pretended. I was just a guy stuck in a village in another world.

“What’s your name again?” I asked, just to buy time.

“Lily Scott,” she said, smiling.

Lily. Simple. Sweet. Dangerous, because assistants usually ended up in trouble.

I leaned back in my chair. “Listen, Lily… Do you even know what a detective does? Ever read Sherlock Holmes?”

She tilted her head. “Sherlock who?”

Yep. As I feared. Not a clue.

“Look,” I said, scratching my handsome head. “This isn’t glamorous. We’re not solving high-profile murders every day. Most of the time it’s finding missing cats or figuring out who stole whose chicken. And also… I don’t even have money to pay myself, let alone pay an assistant. You want salary, right? ’Cause if you’re hoping for gold, you’ve come to the wrong hut.”

Silence.

I sighed and looked at the ceiling. “Oi, system. You there? Can you, I don’t know, cover her salary?”

No response. Typical.

But just when I was about to give up, the blue screen suddenly blinked before my eyes.

[System Notification: Accept her as your assistant]
[Reward: Beast Bike]

“Wait, what?!” I nearly shouted.

I rubbed my eyes. A bike? A freaking beast bike?

Yes. Yes. YES!

I was ready to kiss Lily out of sheer joy. But then reality slapped me again.

“Hold on. What about her salary?!”

The system stayed silent, smug as ever.

I groaned. “Fine. Lily, here’s the deal. One-week trial. If you’re good, I’ll keep you full time. If not, well… no hard feelings.”

Her eyes sparkled like she had just been adopted by her favorite idol. “Deal!”

Thank god this world had the concepts of trial, part-time, and full-time jobs. Otherwise, explaining modern employment contracts in fantasy land would’ve been impossible.

Anyway, at least I had a new assistant. And a bike. Which reminded me—I now had a shiny Beast Bike parked outside. It looked like a cross between a Harley Davidson and a dragon’s skeleton. The thing growled when I touched it, like it was alive.

“Now this,” I whispered, “this is worth it.”

I immediately started dreaming. Road trips. Picnics. Random tours. All in style. But then…

“Does this thing run on petrol? Or electricity? Or… dragon blood?”

Great. Just great. I had no idea how to fuel it. Maybe solar panels? Maybe I’d have to invent petrol? Or beg the system?

My headache was just starting when the door slammed open.

“MURDER! MURDER!”

A tall lady in knight armor barged in, panting like she had run a marathon.

“Lucy sis?!” Lily cried, rushing to her.

Wait, they knew each other?

“Lily, what are you doing here?” Lucy demanded.

“She’s… uh… my assistant?” I said weakly.

“What?” Both of them said at once.

Before I could explain, Lucy cut in, face grim. “There’s been a murder.”

My ears perked up. Murder? Finally? After days of boredom?

Lucy explained fast, words tumbling out. She and her brother had been searching for a potion for the queen. The witch who brewed it was found dead this morning. Worse—the recipe was gone. Without it, the queen had only two days left. Another witch from Voltas would take a week to arrive. Too late.

And now Lucy wanted my help.

I gulped. Me? A fake detective who barely solved lost slippers?

“Please,” she begged, kneeling slightly.

That hit me hard. “Alright, calm down. Sit, both of you.”

I fetched cold water from my fridge—yes, my fridge, courtesy of Earth. Both Lucy and Lily froze at the sight of ice cubes.

“These are…?” Lucy pointed.

“Magical artifacts,” I lied smoothly. “Inherited from my grandpa.”

They looked convinced. Good. At least they thought I was some powerful artifact holder, not a weirdo with random Earth junk.

Just then, the system popped again.

[Main Quest: Find the murderer. Reward: Gun (1 set of bullets only)]
[Side Quest: Find the missing potion. Reward: TRIKULA (2 uses)]

“A gun? With only one set of bullets? What is this, system, budget cut season?”

And TRIKULA? What the hell even was that?

Still, a quest was a quest.

Lucy asked my fee. I didn’t hesitate. “Two gold.”

Her eyes widened but she nodded. According to local market, that was about two hundred dollars. Fair enough.

Time to get into action.

The crime scene was the witch’s house. I told Lily and Lucy to stay outside and act normal, so no one suspected anything. Inside, the room is reeked of herbs and smoke. Bottles clinked on shelves. Papers scattered everywhere.

No body—the royal guards had already hauled it away. Great. No clues left.

But something was odd. Five doors lined the back wall. The house was tiny, way too small for five doors. Fake doors?
(as a writer just imagine the room. I have no idea what you guys imagine but its ok, its good to imagine a witch craft room)

I combed the bookshelves, fingers trailing over dust. Most books looked untouched for years. Except two. One history, one math. Too clean, too used. Suspicious.

I opened them. Page after page, boring words. But then—page 237 of history, a hollow compartment. A key.

Page 341 of math, another compartment. Another key.

When I brought them close, they snapped together, forming a strange lock.

Heart pounding, I glanced at the five doors. One of them matched the shape. The third.

I inserted the lock. Click.

The door swung open, revealing stairs downward.

Basement.

Every horror movie I’d ever watched screamed in my head: Don’t go down there. But I wasn’t in a movie. I was in another world.

The basement smelled damp. Torches flickered. Shelves lined with vials filled the walls. Each bottle labeled with the same word: GRIVE.

Wait. GRIVE? That was the queen’s potion!

*SUDDENLY SYSTME POPS UP:*
*MISSIO NACCOMPLISHED: FOUND POTION*
*REWARD: TRIKULA 2 USES ACTIVATED*
again, What the hell is this?

But wait a min, a sudden realization hit me like a punch.

Not medicine. Poison. Slow poison.

So the queen had been drinking poison this whole time? But who wanted her dead? The witch herself? Or someone else?

Before I could answer, a faint noise came from a side chamber.

I pushed open a tiny door, barely big enough for a closet. Inside, on the floor, lay a girl. Pale, trembling, white saliva dripping from her lips.

Poisoned. Recently.

“Damn it,” I cursed, rushing to her. No time for clues now. She was still alive.

I hurriedly replaced the books and keys to cover my tracks, then carried her out. Lily and Lucy bombarded me with questions, but I barked, “Hospital. Now!”

Thank god the Beast Bike had three seats. I roared it to life, the engine growling like a beast indeed, and we sped toward the hospital.

Now, the hospital here wasn’t like Earth’s. Buildings floated, glowing symbols ran across walls, and healers floated more than they walked. It felt more like Hogwarts than a hospital.

We rushed her into emergency. The doctor, a stern woman in glowing robes, frowned. “Without knowing the poison, treatment is impossible.”

My heart sank.

Minutes later, a nurse came running. “Doctor, she’s trembling too much. She might not last.”

Doctor was coming and then thinks for a second and ask me to come with her. Seems like she wants me to see her final moment also. I told Lily to stay outside, It’s not good for her mental health.

we entered the room. Lily stayed outside.

I went to the girl slowly..

The girl was writhing, face twisted in pain. I whispered, “Sorry. I’m too late.”

I turned to leave.

But suddenly, her hand shot up, clutching my shirt. She yanked me down and—before I could react—pressed her lips to mine.

No, not a kiss. More like she was devouring my whole soul. Her tongue tangled with mine, heat rushing through me, and then—light.

She glowed. Orange, pink, blinding.

Ten minutes felt like eternity. Then she collapsed. I nearly collapsed too.

When I stand up, my hair to dress al messed up, and I looked at the doctor face, She is full of read cheeks and nosebleeds too. Don’t say me you are into this stuff miss.

Suddenly doctor burst in, eyes wide. “Impossible… the poison is gone.”

I blinked, wiping my mouth, still dazed. “What the hell just happened?”

SUDDENLY SYSTEM POPS UP
*TRIKULA ACTIVATED: REMAIN 1 TIME USE*

Then it hit me. TRIKULA. The system reward.

I asked the doctor casually, “Ever heard of Trikula?”

Her face lit with awe. “The miracle tree. Said to cure all diseases. A myth… yet some believe it exists.”

So that’s what saved her.

No wonder the system called it rare.

But now the questions piled higher. Who was this girl? Why was the queen drinking poison? And who killed the witch?

The mystery was just beginning.

And I? I was in way over my head.