Should I look here? Ivan, still in the form of Len the receptionist, paused at the door he had glimpsed earlier when the guard escorted him through Vince's estate. Something about the room had felt off, hidden behind layers of deception. The hallway was quiet, the scent of perfume and incense faint in the air. He twisted the handle carefully. The door creaked slightly as it opened, revealing a modest room lined with bookshelves. To any casual observer, it would seem like a study or a private reading room.
But Ivan knew better.
His sharp eyes scanned the shelves, noting the uneven spacing of one bookcase against the far wall. Walking toward it, he brushed aside a few dusty tomes and found a small, concealed lever tucked behind a false spine. With a light tug, he heard the faint grind of gears behind the walls. A section of the bookcase slid open, revealing a dark passageway that descended into the unknown.
He descended.
The air turned fetid, thick with the stench of rot and old blood. The stone corridor ended at a hidden chamber—a room cloaked in shadows and horror. Bones, hundreds of them, littered the floor. Some still had flesh clinging to them. Torn garments. The unmistakable curve of feminine forms. Broken limbs. Ivan's expression didn't change. He had seen worse. But his soul simmered with something unspoken.
Then he heard it.
A soft, weak breath. The sound of rustling fabric. In the corner, he saw her—a young girl, no older than Kristine, curled up and shivering. Her skin was pale beneath the dirt and bruises, her body thin, her clothes ragged and soaked in dried blood. Beast-like ears twitched slightly at the noise.
The child stared at him with wide golden eyes, cautious yet not afraid. Something in Ivan's form—or perhaps the false warmth in his smile—put her at ease.
"Please," she whispered hoarsely. "Help me... please."
Ivan stepped closer, pretending to be concerned. "What is this place? What happened to you?"
The girl took a shaky breath. "They brought me here months ago. I'm a beastman… a princess of the Serathi Tribe... I was supposed to marry a noble to form peace, but he locked me here instead. He used my sisters first. Then..."
Tears rolled down her cheeks. "If you help me, I promise I can reward you. Gold, treasures... anything. Please, miss. I just want to go home."
Ivan crouched beside her, brushing her hair away from her bloodied forehead. "A princess, huh? That's interesting..."
The girl, sensing hope, tried to smile. "Yes. My father is alive. If you bring me to the forest outside of the west gate, they will find me. You can leave me there if you don't trust me. Just let me go."
"What's your name, little one?" Ivan asked.
"Aria... Aria Serathi."
"Aria..." he echoed, a gentle tone in his voice. He placed a hand on her cheek. "You're very strong."
She closed her eyes and relaxed slightly.
The dagger pierced her neck in a flash of silver.
Her eyes snapped open in shock. Her mouth parted as if to scream, but no sound came. Ivan held her steady until the light faded from her gaze. He stood, letting her small body slump to the bloodstained floor.
"Strong, but not useful," he murmured.
He knelt again and began searching her clothing methodically. Around her neck, under her tattered blouse, he found it—a golden locket with the Serathi crest. He clicked it open. Inside was a tiny painting of her family: a proud lion-like man with a crown, a gentle queen, and three daughters.
"So you weren't lying," Ivan said softly.
He pocketed the locket and stood, glancing at the pile of corpses one last time. The room reeked of secrets. Secrets he now owned.
He exited silently, pulling the bookshelf closed behind him as if nothing had happened. Upstairs, the mansion still held its noble elegance. He smoothed his dress, fixed his hair, and walked out toward the entrance.
The guards stood alert.
"Thank you, gentlemen," Ivan said sweetly, giving one of them a playful peck on the cheek. The guard blushed fiercely.
"T-Take care, Miss Len!"
Ivan giggled in a girlish tone, slipping past the gates. Once back in the maze of alleyways, he found a shadowed corner and reverted to his original form. The magic wore off slowly, the features of Len fading as his own returned.
He leaned against the wall, exhausted. His eyes stared up toward the crimson-dyed sky.
"Let's see how long it takes for this powder keg to explode," he muttered. "Kaurst Clan, Adventurer Guild... I hope you put on a good show."
He walked slowly back to his small house in the slums. The sun dipped below the rooftops. His footsteps echoed on the cobblestone, quiet and deliberate.
Inside his home, he tossed his pouch on the table, lay down on the hard bed, and closed his eyes.
Sleep came easily.