When Bruce woke up again, it was already daylight. The dreams he had that night were a chaotic jumble. However, it seemed like he saw the memories of that man once more. It appeared that the dry corpse in the jester costume was once a handsome scoundrel who stole the hearts of many girls.
But what's strange is, setting aside whether he was a second-generation rich kid or not, a man this handsome—what kind of pretty girl couldn't he woo? Especially those affluent young women from big cities—he could easily charm them. Finding one would ensure a carefree life without the need to play the jester to amuse others.
Yet the woman he claimed he would marry and take home seemed to be a prostitute, and not just any, but the kind who worked in the shadows. Her appearance was quite unremarkable, without anything special. Why did he choose her?
Bruce knew that the man eventually did take this woman back to his hometown and married her. Because the man's daughter, named Amy, had the same hair color and eye color as this prostitute, and their facial features had some resemblance. They must be mother and daughter.
Bruce felt there was something fishy about all this. He had to find more clues about the circus. Although the warehouse had already burned down, there were always things that couldn't be destroyed by the fire. He planned to go back there and take another look.
He and Kent went to the site of the warehouse ruins once more. Indeed, almost everything was burned down. The town didn't even have a police station, let alone a fire station, so it burned hard for a whole night, turning the ground pitch black.
Fortunately, there was a wooden house nearby, while the rest were old brick houses, so the fire didn't spread any further.
Bruce and Kent stepped inside to check for anything left behind. But to their disappointment, almost everything was burnt to nothing—there weren't even remnants left, just ashes.
However, there were some sturdier items that remained intact, like that row of large iron cages at the back of the warehouse. Possibly due to their age, the steel of that era wasn't great, and these cages had melted quite a bit, crookedly lying on the ground.
Bruce took a glance without thinking much of it but quickly noticed something amiss. The locks on these cages were problematic; they were different from locks on typical animal cages.
Nowadays, the simplest cage locks are usually a bolt with a protruding hole at the end and a cover plate that goes over and locks into place, making it impossible to open.
But back in earlier times, locks and keys were relatively expensive, so if locks could be avoided, they were, or very simple lift locks were used. The bolt would go through a hole of a special shape, then be lifted to the other edge of this hole and hang there.
Generally, cages for fierce animals used such locks. Lions and tigers, unlike primates, don't have such flexible finger joints, can't grasp door bolts, nor perform complex actions, and certainly can't understand bolt mechanisms. Such locks were completely sufficient for them. This approach was later used in some pet cage locks as well, eliminating the need for locks and keys by implementing mechanisms that cats and dogs couldn't open.
However, Bruce discovered that this circus, active in the last century, had equipped each cage with a padlock.
When he came earlier, the situation was too urgent to take a close look, and the room was too dark due to the roof, making it impossible to see anything. But the fire had burned away the entire house, allowing Bruce to see more details.
He walked over, knelt down, and carefully examined the lock, confirming it was indeed a product of the last century. Although assembly line factories existed, moulding technologies weren't like today's, and the lock, at a glance, clearly had age.
So the question arises: if these were for lions and tigers, why use such locks? Fear of lions stealing keys, or tigers picking locks?
An idea flashed in Bruce's mind. At this moment, Kent approached. He wasn't as meticulous as Bruce but noticed another detail.
"Look," Kent pointed to the ground.
Bruce looked down and noticed the ground there was indeed different from the rest.
Of course, the flooring was long gone, leaving only the foundation. But foundations then weren't solid concrete; they were made of bricks. The bricks here seemed looser than elsewhere.
The duo found a stick and started tapping on the bricks. After prying for a while, they finally got one loose, revealing some odd soil beneath, unlike other places that had been burned. Bruce reached with his hand and found grass roots.
He dug around some more, uncovering several bricks, but only the earth under the cages had plant roots. He was more convinced of his previous suspicion.
"These cages probably didn't hold animals," Bruce shook his head and said, "The locks must have been meant for primates. And this change in soil might be due to long-term waste seepage."
Kent inhaled sharply and said, "You mean these cages held humans?!"