Chapter 257: The Town of Senf (5)

​After leaving the magic tool shop, Riley maintained his usual composed facade, but his brow was knit in subtle concentration. He caught Austin’s eye for a fleeting second, but the Royal Guard didn't let his stoic expression slip. From his face alone, there was no telling if he had noticed it as well.

​I should have them looked into, Riley thought. To him, the realization had been almost inevitable.

​The Royal Family managed two distinct intelligence branches. One was the Eighth Squad of the Royal Knights; while they were technically an anti-espionage unit specializing in defense, their duties required them to be intimately familiar with the methods of spies and assassins in order to catch them. Any knight with the right aptitude in the Eighth Squad possessed enough knowledge to transition into a life of shadows themselves.

​The other was the organization known as the 'Shadows.' The Royal Shadows lived up to their name, concealing not just their forms but their very presence. They were a unit dedicated entirely to espionage and assassination. While the high-ranking nobility had vague suspicions of their existence, the secret never spread. No one ever lived to tell of a sighting of a Royal Shadow.

​However, even before his Investiture Ceremony, Riley had officially inherited command of the Shadows. He had utilized a portion of their strength before, but now he stood truly at their peak. Consequently, he had seen more than his fair share of the breed of men known as spies and killers.

​And that was why he had noticed that fact.

​That magic tool shop is nothing but a front.

​The woman who had addressed him and Liliana had walked with normal, audible footsteps. She constantly emitted a presence that broadcasted her location. To Riley, it felt entirely wrong.

​Spies and assassins didn't necessarily kill their presence at all times. There were many varieties of killers.

​A brute-force assassin who struck under the cover of night would move without a sound—men who were perpetually submerged in the underworld.

​On the other hand, there were those who specialized in poisonings or making murders look like accidents. Then there were the spies who blended into the general populace to gather intel. No matter where they hid, they had to behave exactly like those around them, or they would be exposed immediately. That said, if a spy posing as a maid had to sneak into a master’s bedchamber at night, they had to be able to kill their presence instantly. In other words, the type of assassin or spy who lived within society to fulfill a mission usually went out of their way to make noise or project a presence.

​It was a refined performance, just slightly different from an ordinary person who truly didn't know how to mask their presence. Likely, only a fellow professional would notice the discrepancy.

​Riley had only recently learned to spot that difference himself. And that discernment was now paying off.

​The shopkeeper is a spy—no, an assassin.

​The sharp glint he’d caught in her eyes for a split second had the specific weight of someone who had walked through the dark side of the world. Even her movements, which she made look deliberately sluggish, were devoid of any true openings.

​By Riley’s estimation, Olga was the only other person likely to have noticed the shopkeeper wasn't a simple merchant.

​He occasionally saw knights who mocked Olga for her mercenary background, but she was clearly more street-smart and battle-hardened than any of them. That was undoubtedly why she had sensed something off about the woman.

​Still, he couldn't blame Riley or Clyde’s guards. Generally speaking, knights never had the chance to interact with the underworld. Even the Eighth Squad were knights first, making them fundamentally different from the "real thing."

​Riley looked at Liliana, who walked beside him looking quite pleased, and his expression softened.

​Having purchased the secret box she liked, she was in higher spirits than anyone who didn't know her well could ever imagine. To a stranger, she would still look as impassive as ever, but to Riley’s eyes, her joy was plain.

​Even Sasha, with her sharp wit, didn't seem to notice the truth about that shop.

​Riley reached that conclusion and let out a quiet sigh of relief.

​He knew all too well that Liliana had a habit of taking everything onto her own shoulders and moving to solve problems in isolation. If she had realized the true nature of the magic tool shop, there was no telling what she might have done. For her own sake, he needed her to remain oblivious to that particular detail.

​◇　◇　◇　◇

​Once Riley and his party had departed, the woman running the shop didn't bother hiding her irritation. She let out a heavy sigh, violently ruffling her jet-black hair as she began to grumble. Her face, which would have been considered quite attractive under normal circumstances, was twisted into a hideous scowl of rage.

​"Nobody told me royalty was coming. Dammit," she spat.

​"Gave you quite the scare, didn't it?"

​She wasn't alone. Immediately after Riley’s group returned to the main street, a man dressed in black dropped lightly from the attic and perched on the edge of a desk. More than half his face was obscured by a mask, hiding his features and expression alike. Nevertheless, his emotions were pushed forward in an easy-to-read manner. Of course, there was no guarantee those emotions were sincere; his relaxed aura felt more like that of a playboy or a traveler than a killer. He was currently fiddling with a short wand on the table to kill time.

​"You handled it well enough, Jarry."

​"How many times do I have to tell you not to use that name, you bird-brain? Right now, I'm Jeany."

​The words she spat were laced with clear murderous intent, but the man didn't seem to mind at all. Instead, he flashed a smirking grin, looking like he was enjoying himself.

​"What's it matter? They sound similar."

​"With that half-assed attitude, I'm amazed you've managed to stay alive this long...?"

​Jeany’s eyes flashed dangerously. Sensing he might have pushed too far, the man raised both hands in a mock surrender and shrugged.

​"Alright, alright, Jeany. I'll behave, so give me a break. I stayed in the attic until those royals cleared out, didn't I? You should be thanking me."

​"If you had just come out then, maybe I wouldn't be this pissed off right now, you think?"

​Jeany let out a cynical smirk. Her meaning was clear: if he had shown himself to the royals, she would have abandoned him and killed him herself.

​The man gave an exaggerated shiver. Deciding it was best not to provoke the shopkeeper further, he pulled a letter from his breast pocket.

​"Fine, fine. Here. This is my job. The appointment letter for the branch family head."

​"—Hah?"

​Jeany grimaced. She glared at the letter as if it were a piece of filth. "Branch head? Me?"

​"Even if you hate it, there's nothing you can do. It's the consensus of the main house. The other leaders all wiped each other out in that skirmish. That left the intel head who was playing bystander to take the fall. Consider it your turn. Also, your first job is to purge a traitor."

​Jeany instantly clicked her tongue with venomous force. She bared her teeth, her eyes slanted as if she wanted to kill the man right then and there.

​"The traitor... you mean that apple-loving Crow? He's bad luck. I've said a dozen times I don't want anything to do with him."

​But the man ignored her. He shrugged nonchalantly, twisting his mouth to argue that he was the one being inconvenienced.

​"Look, don't tell me. I just brought the letter from the main house. If you want to refuse, I can tell 'em, but I wouldn't want to be in your shoes after that, y'know?"

​As he spoke, the man tapped the back of his neck rhythmically. Jeany ground her teeth, a deep furrow appearing between her brows. "Shitty bastard!" she cursed. But the insult wasn't directed at the man. Knowing that, the man let the corners of his lips—the only part visible under his mask—curl upward.

​Jeany scowled and began to shake her leg impatiently, but eventually, she clicked her tongue again and gave a low, "Fine."

​"Tell the main house I accept. God, those people are truly the worst."

​Jeany narrowed her eyes. The man smirked and said "Got it," before immediately following up with a question.

​"So, you know where the target is?"

​"Who do you think you're talking to?"

​Jeany looked disgruntled, but a second later, she flashed a defiant grin. She stared the man down provocatively, causing him to let out a dry chuckle.

​"I know, I know. Nothing gets past a survivor of the Komi, does it?"

​The woman didn't answer. she laughed off his words with a snort. Her eyes, as she smiled dimly, oozed a chilling mix of sensuality and bloodlust. It was a testament to the confidence she had built over her long years as an assassin.

​"If you know, then keep your hands off my business—Haoran of the Locusts."

​"Was that payback for earlier?"

​The man called Haoran let out a bitter laugh. Jeany smirked and answered flippantly. "You catch on quick, York."

​This time, Jeany used the name he was currently going by. York shook his head as if he had no choice and shrugged. He stood up lazily from the desk. Taking a step away from Jeany, he said, "Well then."

​"I'll tell the main house you're on board. Make sure you report your progress, not just the final result."

​With that unilateral parting shot, York walked toward the door. Jeany watched his back until he vanished, but once the door clicked shut, she turned her gaze to the window as if she’d lost interest.

​A faint smile touched her lips.

​"The Death Worm, huh..."

​Jeany knew all too well that the current target was the Death Worm. It was a name she had heard often since joining the Great Calamity Clan. She had heard he was an assassin with skills on par with the famous Kokoefuki, but as far as Jeany’s research went, the Death Worm's abilities were in a league of their own.

​Kokoefuki's name and presence had vanished some time ago, so he was likely dead. Someone of his caliber wouldn't fail a mission, and it was unthinkable that someone so devoted to the clan would betray them. Jeany surmised that Kokoefuki had probably picked a fight with the Death Worm out of professional rivalry and gotten himself slaughtered instead.

​"That boy really did think too highly of himself. Some sleeping reapers are better left alone..."

​Jeany narrowed her eyes and grumbled.

​She understood the main house's intentions. With the heads of the rival branch families and their subordinate leaders gone, there was no one left but Jeany who could keep the branch families in line. However, Jeany herself was originally an outsider. To prevent her from defecting, she had the 'Black Crow' tattoo etched into her back, but even that sorcery wasn't perfect.

​By making her eliminate the Death Worm—who was running wild and ignoring their management—the main house likely thought they could kill two birds with one stone: removing a threat and testing Jeany’s loyalty.

​"Well now, I wonder if things will really go that smoothly?"

​Jeany sneered, thinking that the fools in the main house didn't understand the true horror of the Death Worm. She suspected they had grown complacent, having spent too long as the undisputed masters of the continent’s shadows.

​But she couldn't say that aloud. For now, Jeany still wore the clan’s collar.

​"I suppose it's time to start preparing for my vengeance."

​Muttering the dark thought to herself, Jeany quietly began to organize her magic tools.

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Toc