As we gathered, I laid out my findings to Klein. Jack followed through with his part. Klein listened sincerely, jotting a few things down as we spoke. Then, calmly, he shared his observations.
"There's something off," he began. "The sulphur scent wasn't strong, but it was there. Just faint enough to pass as natural—but definitely not."
He flipped through his notes.
"More importantly, I found small holes. Like dug-out burrows. Hidden well. They look like old rat tunnels at first, but they're placed too precisely. Good cover. You could crouch and watch an entire sector without being seen."
"Lookouts…" I muttered.
Klein nodded. "Hey tried to cover them. Dirt, dried leaves, even faint brush layering. Whoever set them up knew what they were doing. They cleaned up well, but not perfectly."
That made me click my tongue.
This isn't the modern world. There's no drones. No motion sensors. You try something smart around here, and under close inspection, someone trained will still find you out.
"They're observing," I said quietly. "Not attacking. Just watching…"
Jack frowned beside me. Klein remained silent, flipping back through pages.
"But why here?" I asked aloud. "This area is worthless. No resources. No trade routes. No walls or structures worth defending."
I gestured toward the barren land.
"That village nearby is practically dying. Disease, starvation, mana-depletion... there's nothing here worth monitoring."
I looked back down at the soil, my mind spinning.
"Unless…"
A pause.
"Am I missing something?"
As I was pondering, Jack swiftly began collecting soil samples, while Klein jotted down a few rough sketches of the thatched holes.
Watching what they were doing, I knelt down and gathered a bit of soil myself. I pulled out my leather pouch containing copper coins and slammed the soil into it. Then, carefully, I left only a single coin inside, burying it deep in the soil, before wrapping the pouch in a small cloth bag.
If sulphur had really affected the soil and environment to this extent, then it wasn't ordinary exposure. Concentrated sulphuric compounds must've been used. After all, pure sulphur explodes when it reacts with open air, but in this form—it would still leave behind corrosive effects. And copper? That was the key.
If the coin started to corrode or react, I could prove to them that it was sulphur — and that something was actively being poured into the soil.
As we made our way back to the inn, I requested a few guards to stay behind and patrol the area we had just inspected.Once I reached the inn, I greeted Lara, who was preparing ale for the customers. I simply raised my index finger and gestured toward the second floor — the interrogation room.
"Get everyone there," I said.
She nodded and, surprisingly, managed to clear the place faster than I expected.Honestly, it felt kinda cool — you know, like how mafia bosses just give a silent nod and things move instantly.Yeah… felt pretty badass.
In a few minutes, the room upstairs was filled.My father. Lara. Uncle Jon. Munroe. Nara. Anna. A few other inner-circle members.Some were seated around the table, while a few stood along the wall.And for some reason… Nero and Alice were there too.Fair enough. I mean, they had the right to know.
The three of us — me, Jack, and Klein — presented our findings. I went over the whole copper and sulphur theory, explained what I did, and suggested a deeper investigation into the soil and the use of hypnosis-based toxins.
Uncle Jon stroked his rugged beard, eyeing me with a smirk of suspicion.
"How do you even know all this, brat? For someone your age, you're sounding way too sharp. What are you, a secret scholar?"
I grinned and shrugged. "Well… there is a library in here, Uncle Jon. I mean, rare commodity and all. And just for clarity—library's the place where books are kept."
…
Silence.
Then:
"BAHAHAHAHAHA!!"
The whole room cracked up.
"What a sleazy brat you are," Uncle Jon bickered, baring his crooked grin."Interesting… seems like the young one's found his taste for knowledge. Not bad, not bad."
"Well done, Roy," my father said, nodding with a small smile."We overlooked that area, yes — but the idea that they're producing hypnosis solutions there… that's new, even to me.You did well uncovering that."
"Hypnosis solution, huh..." I leaned forward slightly."The potion—or whatever they used—is meant to induce hallucinations. It's also toxic, slowly degrading mental stability over time. I'm not sure if it causes full-on hypnosis, but it definitely messes with the mind."
I paused."But what bothers me most is the location. Why use it in a dead patch of barren land?"
"That's what I was thinking too," Munroe said, speaking up for the first time.
All eyes shifted to him.
He leaned on the table with one hand, calm and slow."These types of toxins usually target people. Civilians, preferably. And if I had to guess, choosing a quiet area makes sense. The fewer patrols, the easier the manipulation. Civilians there are weak, barely surviving. Easy prey. But…" he added with a glance toward me,"That only works if the area is alive with people. Which it's not."
He wasn't wrong. But that didn't make me like him anymore.
Munroe was my father's supposed right-hand man, but most of the time he was a ghost.He didn't lead. Didn't fight. Just lingered in the background — always around, always watching.Too clean. Too still. He wasn't Klein. He wasn't Nara. He wasn't even Jon.
He was... blank.
I'd seen people like him before — back in my old life. People who didn't lift a hand in public but always seemed to know how to clean up after the blood was spilled.
Silent operators.Decorated shadows.The type who never broke rules — because they never moved.
He looked surprisingly ripped, despite never doing fieldwork. His skin was pale, almost sterile. His eyes narrow. Calm. Controlled. This was the first time I'd seen his full face — and yeah, he was good-looking.
But not the charming kind. The kind that smiled while slipping poison into someone else's wine.
I raised an eyebrow."Well look at that. Guess your mouth wasn't sewn shut after all."
He smiled faintly. "Ah, the young lord seems to be under a misunderstanding. I'm just a humble messenger for your father. I wouldn't dare to—"
"Cut the polite crap, Munroe," I said flatly."You've been here too long to keep pretending you're a stranger. Or… do you go by a different name somewhere else?"
The tension in the room shifted. People looked up. Others froze.
They knew I didn't like Munroe. That much was obvious. But none of them knew how deep it ran. They only saw a shady man with a sharp face. I saw something else.
Something I didn't trust and never would.