The Shepherds Are Dense

Chapter 163. Undercurrents of Glass Island Ch 163. Undercurrents of Glass Island

Sherlock, stunned, read the front-page headline carefully.He caught on quickly. “You’re copying me?”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s old—it works,” Aiwass said with a grin. “Your fake death plan was solid.”

“But if I’m ‘dead’ and you’re ‘missing’… what about Uncle York?” Sherlock frowned. “Should I write an anonymous letter to Edward to grab him?”

“No need. York’s missing too,” Aiwass replied instantly.

“…What?”

Aiwass’s eyes narrowed, voice slow. “Truly missing—gone for good.”

“You killed him outright?” Sherlock’s brow furrowed. “Without searching his memories, what about the leads?”

“I got what I needed,” Aiwass explained. “York’s superior is Bran Boca, both tied to Noble Red. The Lloyd Society and Noble Red are deeply linked, but they’re riddled with internal conflicts.”

“Bran Boca?” Sherlock pondered, then recalled. “The judge from White Queen’s First Intermediate Court?”

“That’s him. Fourth-tier law mage and demon scholar, contracted to an ice demon,” Aiwass said, relaying his interrogated intel.

Sherlock sucked in a breath. “He’s one too? Fourth-tier?”

At that level, capture was nearly impossible.

Avalon lacked fifth-tier court ritualists, so confirming Boca’s demon scholar status was unfeasible. Centuries ago, torture or memory extraction might’ve sufficed, but in this civilized era, that meant killing without evidence—impossible for a Round Table knight like Boca.

The Avalon royal family was weaker than the Round Table. Targeting a shady but unprovable figure like Boca meant facing his entire network, which would fiercely resist to avoid being dragged down.

For the royals, it was just purging a judge. For his allies, it was survival. The stakes and resolve differed, so the matter would likely be dropped.

Boca might even be swayed to the royal side. If they didn’t act, the Round Table would, boosting his status to keep him at arm’s length, wary of his new royal ties.

Sherlock rubbed his head, wincing. “This is tricky…”

“There’s more,” Aiwass said, eyes narrowing. “Your uncle was a third-tier law mage but a fourth-tier demon host—advanced from demon-possessed.”

“You knew he was possessed?”

“I suspected but had no proof,” Sherlock admitted. “His early case records showed sloppy logic and weak arguments, yet he swayed judges and juries. I thought he used transcendent means, maybe a hidden Path. I didn’t know which.”

“Likely a will-manipulating demon,” Aiwass suggested.

Fourth-tier… Sherlock felt a chill.

As a third-tier law mage, with Edward barely fourth-tier, confronting York with Aiwass could’ve led to their deaths.

“So, telling Edward won’t help. He can’t catch or convict York,” Aiwass said. “Better to make him vanish.”

Sherlock eyed him oddly. “How’d you make him ‘vanish’?”

“That’s a secret,” Aiwass said, smiling, finger to lips. “Curious? Investigate it.”

He wouldn’t hide his other identity but wouldn’t reveal it either. When they figured it out, he’d come clean.

Not to conceal crimes—Alastair only killed the wicked, doing what Aiwass couldn’t.

To deceive others, you first deceive your allies. Sherlock’s investigation into Alastair would prove Aiwass and Alastair were separate.

“Deal,” Sherlock said, taking it as a challenge from a friend.

“York’s handled,” Aiwass continued. “I’m certain he framed your father, and the Avalon royal curse is likely tied to them. I didn’t catch him, but your commission’s done.

“Last night’s attackers were from Noble Red, trying to silence me. My position’s unsafe, so I slipped away, planting clues to make them distrust and turn on each other.”

Sherlock caught on. “You want them to think you were taken by a rival faction?”

“But they’ll compare notes and see through it soon.”

“Not if it’s three-way,” Aiwass said, eyes glinting. “Noble Red likely looks down on Lloyd too.”

Despite Lloyd’s giant blood, he wasn’t “Transcendent” enough.

As a Transcendent, suppressing juniors to secure his position was a cheap tactic, despised by Noble Red. Lloyd likely knew this.

While Boca thought Alastair was Lloyd’s, Lloyd would assume Alastair came from a Noble Red faction opposing him, causing trouble.

Aiwass’s death would’ve been cleaner, but his disappearance meant he could resurface, keeping the Supervisory Bureau and Inspectorate scrambling.

Lloyd wouldn’t act so recklessly. If he targeted Aiwass, he’d use Boca’s men for deniability.

Yet the move matched Lloyd’s style, so Noble Red would pin it on him.

One thing united them: everyone—Inspectorate, Bureau, royals, Boca, Lloyd, Noble Red—was hunting Aiwass.

But not just them.

At the Barrel Club, sculptor Lars Graham, hands trembling with age, set down the paper reporting Aiwass’s disappearance, sighing silently.

He’d confirmed Chloe’s disappearance likely tied to Aiwass. She ignored his warnings, attacked Aiwass, and was likely killed by his elven butler, Oswald, without signaling.

Chloe, his immature disciple and old friend’s granddaughter, deserved justice. With Oswald gone, Graham planned to kill Aiwass himself.

A rare triple-Path Transcendent—fifth-tier Beauty, fourth-tier Adaptability, second-tier Twilight—his lifespan was nearly spent, but killing Aiwass was easy.

Yet reckless Star Antimony operatives struck first, and now Aiwass was gone, location unknown.

Even if he returned, school security would tighten, complicating Graham’s plans. Killing Aiwass wasn’t the issue—exposure was, risking trouble for the Speaker and his group.

His mission nearly done, with two months left in Avalon, he decided to stir trouble for the Star Antimony lot instead.

Meanwhile, Minister Droste called Boca to discuss.

“York’s in trouble,” Boca said curtly. “Attacked by someone named Alastair—Lloyd’s man.”

“…Alastair?” Droste’s tension eased. “I know him. He’s likely behind Aiwass’s disappearance too.”

“You know Alastair?” Boca pressed, sharing more. “York’s missing too. His servant said the firm’s alarm triggered at night, so York went in but never left. By dawn, he was gone, only a phone receiver missing.”

“They might not be missing,” Droste said. “The shadow demon could’ve consumed them, leaving no trace.”

“A shadow demon-possessed?” Boca asked. “I met him in an advancement ritual.”

“Give me more on him,” Boca urged. “This is urgent—we must unite.”

“Fine,” Droste agreed, voice heavy. “I’ll compile a file and have Diomedes deliver it this afternoon.”

Though his Alastair investigation was incomplete, time was up.

The lawless “Alastair” loomed as a massive threat over Glass Island.

(Chapter End)