Knight Lords: Infinite Simulation and the Path of Light

Chapter 233 The Prologue in the Mist
Vauxhall Cross Street

As an intelligence agency that has been operating for over a century, it appears so mysterious, even dangerous, to the world that very few civilians operate in this area. After all, no one wants to be associated with a place that can arrest you at any time under the guise of an investigation.

"Good morning, sir. I didn't expect you to arrive so early. Would you like something to drink?"

Gene was holding a cup of hot black tea and checking the intelligence that had been delivered that day. As the head of the intelligence department, although his staff shared the workload with him, he still had to personally handle and file some of the higher-level intelligence, and decide whether to present it to the chief minister or His Majesty the Emperor based on the content of the intelligence.

"Hey, yeah, come and see. Our house has been ransacked. If we don't take a look, it's not impossible that someone will cut our heads off in our sleep one day."

Seeing Havent's annoyed expression, Gene put down his teacup and stood up.

"This is indeed a very sad thing, and I hope that you, Mr. Haven, can adjust your mindset."

Heavent sniffed and waved his hand dismissively at Gene's words of comfort.

"What's done is done, so there's no point in being sad or facing it head-on. Give me a cup of tea, with some refreshing herbs. We still have a lot to do today."

As if sensing the anger hidden beneath Havent's calm, Gene instructed the servant waiting at the door to brew another pot of hot tea, and then said no more, waiting for Havent to continue.

“Let’s go, Gene, let’s go somewhere we can work quietly. There are too many eyes watching us here.”

Hearing Haven's words, Gene shrugged helplessly. For him, this kind of thing, which sounded very embarrassing, was indeed happening right now.

"Oh, right, summon all the team leaders responsible for monitoring unusual security situations in the capital, underground forces, and recent explosives tracking. I need to hear their briefings later."

Entering MI8's archives was like entering a vast underground labyrinth. Rows of towering metal filing cabinets stood like silent giants, and the air was thick with the mingled scents of old paper, parchment scrolls, and magical ink. The lighting was dim, and only guiding crystals could lead to specific areas; it appeared extremely rigorous and secure…

Under Gene's direction, several archivists frantically moved boxes of heavy files to Havent's designated temporary office area, a relatively spacious corner that had been cleared out. Soon, Havent was overwhelmed by the mountain of files.

Serena sat quietly to one side, holding a thick book of magical theory, but her mental aura subtly enveloped the area, isolating it from outside prying eyes and interference. Dea, on the other hand, curiously burrowed through the pile of files, occasionally picking out a piece of paper that it found interesting.

Not long after the assassins retreated from Cavendish Manor that day, Serena flew back. According to Serena, she had just moved the werewolf to the outskirts of the capital and fought for only a few rounds when the werewolf seemed to receive some message and hurriedly left. After feeling extremely weak, it immediately flew back.

With a calm mind, Haven began to unravel the mystery, while Gene, who was waiting on the side, couldn't help but feel a sense of novelty as he watched Haven's working method.

Unlike the investigative methods of MI8 staff, Haven did not look at the reports in chronological or geographical order. Instead, he had the archivist spread all the reports on the huge table in front of him, including those related to "explosives," "smuggling of alchemical items," "recent unusual gatherings of people," "unnatural deaths/disappearances, especially among lower-ranking people," "half-elf related incidents," and "unusual movements in the southern provinces."

Then, on another large table, they used different colored pens to mark the location of the incident, the activity trajectory of suspicious persons, and the last location of missing persons on a panoramic map of the capital.

Looking at the intelligence information gathered together, Haven's brain started working quickly. There were many trivial things that he hadn't paid attention to before because he was in a hurry to hand over his duties as an investigator. Now, when he calmed down and looked at it carefully, he found that many things had already been exposed by clues long ago.

A report about the discovery of unidentified alchemical residues in an abandoned factory in the West Third District (dated: one week before the Blood Wedding) was linked to the "attempted arson at the Hendry Merchant Guild warehouse" mentioned by Marigolo Yang at the "Rotten Mushroom" tavern (before the shore dock explosion). Although the locations were different, the methods both pointed to the destruction of specific targets and involved the exploitation of lower-level personnel. At least the content of the reports submitted from below was quite interesting.

Several patrol reports from different areas mentioned an unusually high number of missing homeless people and beggars recently. This immediately reminded Havent of the "men in black" that Marigoloyan had mentioned, who were using homeless people as expendable resources.

Connecting these missing points with lines on the map revealed several areas with a high degree of overlap, one of which was close to…

Svenlia Estate
When reviewing the follow-up investigation into the "Clark Balance" auction house, MI8's report was vague, only mentioning normal operations and no suspicious activity was found, after which the trail went cold.

But Haven discovered a piece of information in an inconspicuous routine monitoring report on the black market slave trade: a few weeks before the "Clark Balance" closed, a batch of half-elf slaves of unknown origin and "excellent" quality were quickly auctioned off, and the identities of the buyers remained a mystery.

The timing of the half-elf riots in the southern Duramoy family territory and the influx of slaves into the capital... there is a subtle coincidence. Carlos was running an auction house at the time, and during the days of wedding preparations, a large number of foreign servants came to the manor. According to Aunt Sulin, these servants were there because a large number of half-elf slaves appeared in the capital and were being sold off at low prices.

Havent's finger traced across the map, connecting the marked points one by one. The invisible lines gradually became clear amidst the chaos. When many coincidences collided, it could no longer be called coincidences, but rather a planned conspiracy.

In his mind, Haven saw a vast and intricate network: using the chaos and marginalized figures of the capital's underbelly as cover and tools.

By using black market channels to transport personnel and supplies, and by targeting highly symbolic and destructive objectives, every step creates panic, distracts attention, and confuses the vision of the Imperial security apparatus.

They seem to be trying to divert attention, so what are they trying to cover up?

"The efficiency is...too low."

Haven frowned as he looked at the mountain of paper files, then at the several clerks beside him, sweating profusely and having to search half the archives for a single related file. Gene stood to the side, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"Manager Gene~"

Haven tapped the table lightly as he pondered.

"How long would it take to review the detailed analysis report on the 'human Jin Shizhong's' modus operandi from the 'Bloody Night' thirty years ago?"

Gene paused for a moment, then estimated:
"The archives from that period are specially encrypted, requiring a three-level access application, a review process, and finally verification to form the report you need... It takes at least two days."

"Two days?"

Haven looked at Gene with some surprise. He didn't have very high authority, and from what Gene said, even if the intelligence from back then was obtained through application, the process report still had to be written on the spot. This thing shouldn't have been written back then.

"You guys..."

"This isn't a joke, this is a makeshift operation..."

"Gene, is this how you always are? That's so unprofessional."

Just as Gene was wondering how to answer Havent's question, Chief Minister Pogart walked in and overheard Havent's rant.

"Hehe, little Went, you look to be in pretty good spirits."

"Oh? What brings you here?" Pogart picked up the papers scattered on the ground, put them on the table, and pulled out a chair to sit down.

"I came to see you and help you out, since there are some things you need that even Gene can't easily solve for you."

"Oh... I see. Well, I do have some ideas."

Havent looked at Pogart and Gene, his thoughts on how to reform this massive and bloated organization becoming increasingly clear. As he pondered, he slowly said:

"First, we need to establish a core intelligence database and magical retrieval system. We need a centralized core database that utilizes magical mirroring and memory crystal technology! All reports, files, and evidence information (such as residual magical fluctuations and scent samples) will be digitized and entered."

Configure advanced search functions such as keyword association, spatiotemporal coordinate mapping, and character relationship graphs. Finding a report like "Bloody Night" should be as simple and quick as finding a book in a library using an index!
I've seen something similar at Heman and his accomplice's trading company, which means it's not something difficult to obtain.

Seeing that Haven had spoken, Gene quickly took out a notebook and began to take notes.

"Then, I noticed that the division of labor among the various departments in the Eighth Division was too clear-cut and there was too little cooperation. Now we are breaking down departmental barriers and establishing a comprehensive intelligence analysis team."

“Take a look at these reports,”

Haver picked up several reports from the Explosives Tracking Team, the Underground Surveillance Team, and the Missing Persons Investigation Team.

"They may be describing different aspects of the same thing! But they are scattered across different departments, and the information is not shared between them."

We must now break this fragmented approach and establish a dedicated integrated intelligence analysis team composed of senior analysts. Their sole task will be, as I am doing today, cross-referencing intelligence from all sources, finding connections, and creating a comprehensive picture! They will need the highest authority, reporting directly to the head of the investigation—that is, to me.

"Speaking of which, this matter shouldn't be too difficult, Lord Pogart."

A glint flashed in Pogart's eyes, and he slowly nodded to indicate that there was no problem.

"Alright, then I'll continue..."

"Another key aspect is strengthening rapid on-site response and information feedback. At that abandoned farm, I saw our field personnel still using pen and paper to record messages and using carrier pigeons or basic communication crystals to transmit messages? That's too slow!"
Allocate a portion of government funding to research and develop or procure more portable and covert real-time communication and image transmission equipment, even if it can only transmit brief coded information or blurry images. This would allow for the immediate transmission of crucial on-site information for rapid matching and analysis.

After speaking all that in one breath, Haven felt his mouth was a little dry, so he picked up the teacup on the table and drank the tea in one gulp.

"Finally, I think the most important thing for us as an intelligence agency is rebuilding our grassroots information and informant network. Whenever a storm comes, the first to feel the crisis are often the rats living in the sewers, and we have really performed terribly in this regard."

MI8 needs to rebuild its informant network that penetrates every dark corner of the capital, especially those neglected underprivileged communities, slums, and underground gangs.

Intelligence gathering should not only focus on nobles and merchants; we should also provide informants with safer means of communication and more secure rewards.

As for bringing in external consultants and technical support, that's not our most pressing need right now; we'll consider that later.

Haven explained each point one by one, his thoughts becoming increasingly clear. These were not mere figments of his imagination, but rather a combination of the painful lessons of the Red Wedding, his own personal experiences during the investigation, and his vague understanding of efficient information processing from his previous life.

Pogart listened intently, even taking notes quickly with a quill pen. He was even more impressed with the young man now; a person's state of mind is different when they want to do something.

"Alright everyone, that's about all the adjustments we need to make for now. I hope we can get some of the things I need within a week. Does anyone else need to add anything?"

When faced with Haven's question, the two looked at each other and shook their heads. The rectification plan seemed to be very comprehensive, and any shortcomings would not be noticeable in a short time.

"Alright, since neither of you has anything to add, let's continue."

"Regarding this place, I need to drive a wedge in. I need to find a group of people with clean backgrounds and find a way to get them in. I need to know their internal situation. We are too passive right now."

Pogart and Gene peered at the spot where Haven was pressing his finger; the map showed Svenlia Manor.

"Do you think this place is connected to the Dark Alliance?"

Gene flipped through the intelligence in his hand and asked, puzzled:
"I'm not entirely sure, but even if this place isn't a stronghold of the Dark Alliance, it's definitely related to them in some way."

"This seems to be one of the estates owned by Duke Clement of the Red Moon."

"What's the matter?"

Hearing Gene's somewhat troubled tone, Haven looked up.

Hehehehe~

“Little Went, what Gene means is that if we rashly plant a wedge in a duke’s forces without solid evidence, it will be a very difficult thing to deal with if it is discovered in the future.”

Havent glanced at Pogart, then at Gene, and finally gave him a disdainful look.

"So what..."

"We won't deny it..."

“If we don’t admit it, he can still insist that it was our arrangement.”

Seeing Haven's shameless expression, the two were speechless for a moment.

"Alright, alright, let's find a group of people with clean backgrounds, aged between ten and fifteen. I'll personally paint a picture for them, no, I'll instill in them a noble mission."

The sky above Vauxhall Cross Street outside the window was overcast, and it looked like it was going to snow again. Inside, the crackling of burning wood drowned out the sound of their conversation.

(End of this chapter)