At last, the Black Shadow opened his mouth.
“My thoughts haven’t changed.”
Although he’d spent a long time deliberating, his final words were firm, leaving no room for argument.
“I believe the fact that this Case was reported to the outside world was due to Mustafa’s carelessness. This Case should have been resolved within this Workshop from the very beginning.”
“…Do you really think so?”
A strange sense of disappointment washed over me.
‘I’m hopeless. What was I even thinking?’
Had I imagined some scene straight out of a boys’ comic?
Pouring my heart out to an uncooperative opponent, shouting at them until they were moved by my words, and then having them reveal a crucial clue?
And thanks to that, everything would be resolved neatly?
‘I haven’t even reached a conclusion myself. How could I expect to convince him by pressuring him?’
It was foolish of me to project my own emotions onto someone else.
Besides, wasn’t the person standing before me a Criminal, too?
‘In the end, there’s no way to know whether everything Sir Albrecht said is true. Perhaps he’s trying to cover up his disciple’s crime while pretending to protect him, all to conceal his own involvement.’
Three crimes had been committed in this Mansion.
Malicious Stalking.
The Destruction of the Last Piece.
And the theft of the Lemon Pie.
There were also three suspects.
Sir Albrecht.
And his disciples, Sophie and Mustafa.
The only person with a solid alibi was Anton, who had explained the circumstances surrounding these incidents to us.
‘Even though I know perfectly well that the other person is a Criminal who committed some kind of Case, what am I supposed to do if I simply take their words at face value?’
I chastised myself and turned away.
I’d have to continue the investigation using another approach.
“Wait.”
At that moment, Albrecht stopped me.
“What is it? Have you changed your mind?”
“No, but allow me to offer you one piece of advice.”
What was he trying to say now?
I glanced back at Sir Albrecht.
“If you truly wish to discover what kind of people my disciples and I are, and solve this Case, then you should examine each person’s work.”
“…Their work?”
The Black Shadow nodded.
“Expressions and gestures can be convincingly fabricated or concealed. But a work reveals the inner self of the person who created it. That is something that can never truly be hidden.”
It was an assertion worthy of an artist.
‘But… will that actually help?’
Before my eyes stood a Black Shadow.
A Black Shadow named Albrecht.
When I shifted my gaze, I saw another Black Shadow.
And beside it stood yet another.
I couldn’t see their expressions or gestures.
It wasn’t that they were trying to conceal or fabricate anything. I simply couldn’t perceive those things in the first place.
Their outward appearances were completely beyond my comprehension.
‘But… their works should be different.’
At the very least, I would be able to see those clearly.
Whether I could interpret anything from them was another matter entirely.
‘This is daunting. Can I even do it?’
I wasn’t an artist. In fact, I knew absolutely nothing about art.
The last time I’d visited an art exhibition in person had been during a school field trip. Even then, all I’d done was look at the displayed works and offer crude comments like “Pretty,” “Cool,” and “Awesome.”
There was no way I possessed the ability to look at a work of art and peer into its creator’s inner self.
‘Still… it’s worth a try.’
Whether it would work or not, giving up without even trying simply wasn’t in my nature.
“Anton, could you help me?”
I asked Anton to help me examine everyone’s work.
Among the people in this Workshop, he was the only one whose innocence I could be certain of.
Fortunately, Anton readily agreed.
“But does this have anything to do with finding the Criminal…?”
“I intend to find that out as we go.”
Could I really discover anything this way?
“First… these are Mustafa’s works…”
The Common Studio was cluttered.
Sculptures and paintings created by the disciples were scattered everywhere, mixed together without any clear division between their respective workspaces.
“This is Mustafa’s. And this one… and this one, too…”
Anton skillfully picked out Mustafa’s creations from among the countless works. Lure and I examined them with utmost seriousness.
“Uh… well, they’re impressive.”
“They’re grand.”
I knew it would turn out like this.
I knew those were the only pathetic exclamations I’d be able to manage.
‘But what can I do? That’s all I can see.’
There were sculptures carved from pure white marble and statues made of plaster.
Heroes from mythology and various great historical figures.
Every single one of them was impressive and grand.
And that was all I could say about them.
“Mustafa produces a lot of works that faithfully follow the fundamentals. In a way, his foundations are solid, but…”
Anton hesitated briefly.
“…He lacks creativity, and his work is boring. It’s all too ordinary.”
That was his verdict.
Lure and I both flinched at the same time.
‘I thought he was just timid because he was afraid of the Stalker…’
Now I realized that Anton was actually a rather sharp critic.
His timid manner of speaking had completely concealed that side of him.
Still, was it really all right to say something like that?
Mustafa was standing in the same room, after all.
Fortunately, Anton wasn’t finished.
“But Mustafa’s real strength isn’t in sculpture. It comes through in his paintings…”
He pointed to a large framed painting hanging on the wall.
At first glance, its subject seemed no different from those of Mustafa’s other works scattered around the studio.
It depicted a great battle from mythology.
But the colors were entirely different.
“Wow… there’s something really intense about it.”
“Indeed.”
The bold primary colors immediately caught the eye.
It looked almost like a photograph that had undergone heavy color correction.
Yet somehow, the assertive colors blended together in a peculiar way, creating an incredibly striking image.
“Mustafa’s homeland… the sunlight there is so strong that everything looks vivid. Maybe that’s why his colors are the most intense among us. His sense of color might even be better than Master’s…”
There was a peculiar note of pride in Anton’s voice.
“Mustafa’s artistic world is truly unique. No one else could imitate it.”
Next, it was Sophie’s turn.
“Sophie’s works are… over here.”
Her creations were quite different from Mustafa’s.
While Mustafa mainly depicted scenes from mythology, many of Sophie’s works portrayed ordinary moments from everyday life.
Her sculptures were also smaller than his.
Unlike Mustafa’s collection, hers contained no plaster statues at all. Instead, many of her sculptures looked as though they’d been shaped from clay rather than carved from marble.
There were quite a few of them.
Judging by the intricate details, I suspected that the materials and techniques she used were suited to the delicate nature of her work.
“Sophie is the most… similar to Master among us.”
“Similar to Sir Albrecht?”
Anton nodded.
“She has a talent for capturing what she sees in reality and reproducing it in her work. Her sculptures are dynamic and… delicate.”
“…”
Hearing his explanation, I could see what he meant.
A bird poised to spread its wings and take flight.
A worker sitting in a corner, about to light a cigarette.
Even a small child stamping their feet with a delighted expression.
Each sculpture was both dynamic and delicate, as though a fleeting moment from a video had been captured and preserved forever.
“Huh? Wait a minute. Is this one Sophie’s work, too?”
Lure pointed at one of the sculptures.
It was clearly larger than Sophie’s other creations.
Carved from pure white marble, it somehow drew the eye far more strongly than the surrounding works.
At least, that was how it felt to me.
‘Is it because of that expression?’
It was a statue of a woman facing forward with both arms raised slightly above her head.
Her mouth was open in a scream.
Or perhaps she was begging, pleading for something.
Her expression was filled with such overwhelming desperation that it seemed as though she were crying out endlessly.
‘What on earth is she trying to say?’
I wanted to know, but of course, I couldn’t.
It was only a marble sculpture.
“Ah, that…”
“It’s a replica.”
The voice that answered didn’t belong to Anton. It came from a Black Shadow with a feminine voice.
“It’s a copy of Master’s masterpiece, Silent Prayer.”
“This is Silent Prayer?”
I’d heard about the masterpiece countless times, but I’d never seen it in person.
I hadn’t even known what it looked like.
‘So this is Silent Prayer…’
It was completely different from the vague image I’d formed in my mind.
The woman depicted in the statue didn’t look silent, nor did she seem to be praying.
Her expression was desperate, anxious, and pitiful. She seemed both furious and sorrowful, as though she were endlessly trying to say something that no one could understand.
“Well, it’s unfinished.”
Sophie continued, sounding embarrassed.
“Originally, I was supposed to sculpt the people praying with their backs turned toward her, too.”
I nodded.
‘So that’s why it’s called Silent Prayer.’
“I wanted to finish the entire piece, but Master stopped me. He said that imitating reality through sculpture was fine, but imitating another artist’s work, in my case…”
She trailed off awkwardly.
“I see.”
He had apparently told her that it wouldn’t help her develop much as an artist.
I vaguely remembered hearing something similar before.
Copying others’ work could help improve one’s skills up to a certain level, but beyond that point, it could actually hinder one’s development.
At least, that was what people said.
“Huh? But… this face…”
Lure examined the statue more closely before suddenly exclaiming in surprise.
“Wait! Isn’t this Sophie?”
“I didn’t think you’d recognize me…”
“I didn’t notice it at first, either! But now that you’re standing right beside it, you look exactly alike!”
Sophie let out an awkward laugh.
“So I’m telling you, the woman who served as the model for Master’s original Silent Prayer wasn’t me! This is just… It’s absolutely not because I have some protagonist complex!”
“Sophie, your face is bright red right now.”
“I-I really had no choice…”
The Black Shadow groaned and lowered her head.
“Master’s statue stands in front of the Cathedral, where crowds of people gather every day. I couldn’t keep looking at it while sculpting, so I needed another model. But finding someone suitable wasn’t easy. Even if I tried to find someone within the Workshop, there wasn’t another woman here besides me…”
She paused before continuing in a small voice.
“So I brought a mirror, studied my own expression, and sculpted it.”
She really didn’t need to make so many excuses.
She seemed terribly embarrassed.
“Please believe me! If I’d had a cute and lovely model like Miss Lure, I never would have gone out of my way to sculpt myself as the protagonist! I really wouldn’t have!”
“C-Cute and lovely… me?”
“Of course! Miss Lure would make a wonderful model! You’re full of freshness and charm! Those sparkling blue eyes, that shy expression, and those plump cheeks that still have a little baby fat despite your firm features… Everything about you is lovely! You have that delicate quality of standing between a girl and a woman, still immature and uncertain, yet somehow moving forward with determination!”
It seemed Sophie hadn’t been offering empty flattery after all.
She enthusiastically listed all the qualities she admired about Lure as a potential model.
“Your petite stature, that perfectly cut pitch-black bob… Everything is ideal! If it weren’t for the circumstances that brought us together through this work, I would have asked you to model for me immediately!”
“Ah, I…”
At first, Lure seemed pleased by the praise, but Sophie’s overwhelming enthusiasm soon left her flustered.
I was enjoying the spectacle, wondering whether I should rescue the increasingly pouty Lure, when another Black Shadow approached.
“If I think about it, I had a similar thought.”
The voice was relatively young, with a somewhat distinctive tone.
It was Mustafa.
“I thought so from the moment I first saw you. You’re exactly the kind of person I’d want as a model for my work.”
He wasn’t looking at Lure.
He was looking at me.
“I don’t particularly like that overly delicate-looking face of yours, but the curves of your body peeking out here and there are…”
“M-My body curves?”
The Black Shadow stared at me and smacked his lips.
Goosebumps rose all over my body.
“You hide them beneath those thick clothes, but you can’t fool my eyes. Detective Nari, your body must be packed with lean muscle. It would have a very different appeal from the bodies of sailors or laborers who work all day.”
He leaned toward me.
“Would you consider taking your clothes off? I’d like to study your physique in greater detail…”
“No! Absolutely not!”
I recoiled, instinctively wrapping both arms around myself.
It was an absurd thought, but I genuinely felt as though the Black Shadow might pounce on me and tear my clothes off at any moment.
“You… are being far too rude…”
Fortunately, Anton intervened before the Black Shadows could continue their rampage.
“In the first place… people are just people. Why do you need models so badly?”
I could have simply kept quiet and felt relieved, but my curiosity was too strong to ignore.
“Anton, don’t you need a model?”
“Yeees…”
I couldn’t tell whether that was supposed to be a yes or a no.
Anton gave an ambiguous nod.
“Ah, Detective, you haven’t looked at Anton’s works yet. Everything over in that corner consists of sculptures he’s made.”
Anton had created works of wildly varying sizes, ranging from tiny pieces to enormous sculptures.
More importantly, almost none of them depicted human figures.
“Anton is really interesting. He studied at an art school, so he received more formal training than any of us, yet he doesn’t follow almost anything he was taught.”
Anton’s works were bizarre.
There was a creature resembling a tiger, exaggerated to roughly twelve times its normal size.
A dog with extraordinarily long legs.
And an elephant whose trunk grew longer and longer until it turned into a snake and coiled around its own body.
“Hey, that one looks like a statue of an angel!”
Lure happily approached a statue of a woman with a holy, almost divine appearance.
Then she stopped abruptly, her expression twisting in disgust.
“W-What is that? Isn’t that a cloud?”
The statue appeared to depict a woman standing atop a bed of white clouds.
But when I looked more closely, I realized they weren’t clouds at all.
They were the sculpted heads of dozens of children.
That was what she was standing on.
The children’s heads were crushed and trampled beneath the woman’s feet, yet every one of them wore a bright smile.
‘To put it kindly, it’s bizarre…’
To be honest, it was downright creepy.
“Why did you make something like this?”
“I just… wanted to recreate a myth… like Master…”
Anton sounded as though he were being unfairly accused.
“The holy woman chosen by God… ascending to heaven with the baby angels. That’s how the scene was described in the records…”
“And you decided to sculpt it like this?”
I recalled what Albrecht had told me earlier.
A person’s inner self could be understood by examining their work.
‘Was that perhaps his way of accusing his own disciple of being a psychopath?’
If I hadn’t possessed the ability to see Criminals, I would probably have concluded that Anton was the Criminal behind this Case.
That was how suspicious his sculptures looked.
The most absurd part was that Anton was the only person in the Workshop whose innocence I could be certain of.
That was the truth.
“You see? Anton doesn’t concern himself with fundamentals like human proportions. Instead, he creates sculptures overflowing with creativity.”
Sophie and Mustafa spoke as though there were nothing unusual about it.
They were clearly accustomed to Anton’s work and no longer found his bizarre creations particularly surprising.
“Among Anton’s works, The Wolf That Swallowed a Star was a new piece this time, wasn’t it? It was exhibited in the Imperial Palace Garden. I even heard that His Highness, the Grand Duke of the Northern Region, praised it.”
“Ah, that one…”
I remembered catching a glimpse of it myself.
But Anton had sculpted that piece?
“I thought all the statues displayed there were Sir Albrecht’s works.”
“Of course not.”
Sophie laughed.
“Master has spent the past few years devoting himself entirely to completing the Last Piece. All the works displayed this time were sculpted by us.”
“But you can’t exactly say they aren’t Master’s works, either. He’s the one who put the finishing touches on them.”
“I see… So that’s how it works.”
I’d read about something similar before.
Luxury goods supposedly handmade by Italian artisans sometimes began with Chinese craftsmen completing nearly all the work. Afterward, Italian artisans would add the final touches, allowing the products to be sold around the world as luxury goods made by Italian hands.
The arrangement here didn’t seem all that different.
The disciples created the actual works, and Sir Albrecht added the prestige of his name.
‘In a way, it benefits both sides. But in another way, it feels like exploitation.’
Perhaps someone had grown resentful of this arrangement.
Could that have become the motive for destroying the Master’s work?
“But, Anton… what’s that?”
Suddenly, Sophie pointed toward something.
“What…?”
“That enormous plaster… thing over there. I can’t even begin to guess what it’s supposed to be.”
She was referring to a sculpture. Judging by its uneven, bumpy surface, it looked like some kind of mythical creature.
“Now that you mention it, I’m curious, too. I thought it might be a dinosaur.”
“Ah, that…”
Just as I wondered whether Anton would explain, another voice interrupted.
“I’m curious about that as well.”
It was Sir Albrecht.
“Carving a single block of marble is one thing, but building a plaster sculpture that tall is quite unusual for you, Anton. What exactly were you trying to create?”
“That is…”
At last, Anton answered.
“That… isn’t my work.”
“What?”
“You’re saying it isn’t yours?”
Anton looked from one Black Shadow to another, seemingly just as confused as everyone else.
“Wasn’t someone else… working on it…?”
A brief silence fell over the Common Studio.
It was a place where no one’s workspace was clearly separated from anyone else’s.
And there stood a massive plaster sculpture of unknown origin, which everyone had left untouched because they’d assumed it belonged to someone else.
“Achoo!”
At that moment, Lure sneezed.
She had just brushed her hand against the mysterious plaster sculpture.
Something clicked in my mind.
“Everyone, please step aside.”
I walked straight toward the enormous plaster sculpture.
Then I raised my cane and brought it down.
Crack!
The plaster crumbled, sending a light cloud of white dust into the air.
Crack! Crack!
After striking the sculpture three times, I heard a voice behind me.
“Stop.”
Sir Albrecht had intervened.
Through the broken plaster, something began to emerge.
Pure white marble, gleaming brilliantly beneath the dust.
And carved into that marble was the delicate form of a woman’s garment.
“…That shape!”
Mustafa cried out.
“That’s the Last Piece!”
Hidden inside the enormous plaster sculpture…
Was the Last Piece.
‘…The sculpture wasn’t destroyed?’
Everything I’d assumed up until that moment had been turned upside down.