The merchant Avid entered his lodging in high spirits.
How could he not be pleased? With business booming and money flowing steadily, he felt he could die without regrets.
Though he had just returned from dealing with customers, he neither collapsed onto his bed nor reached for a drink.
Instead, he began recording customer details, personal information, and transaction records.
Whoosh.
However, as he worked on the ledger, the candlelight suddenly went out.
“Ah, why did it go out suddenly? Matches… Where did I put the matches…”
Now accustomed to the light, the sudden darkness made Avid fumble on his desk until he finally found the matchbox.
Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
After striking a match a few times, he reignited the candle.
The small flame drove back the darkness, restoring visibility.
But then—Avid screamed.
A woman was standing beside his desk.
“Ahhh! Who are you?!”
“Hello,” she greeted.
The woman, with white hair and wearing a maid’s uniform, looked at him with piercing red eyes.
Her beauty and mystique were undeniable, but there was an air of danger about her.
“Who—who are you? What do you—mmph!”
“Shh. My master dislikes wasting time. Please stick to what’s necessary,” she said, grabbing Avid’s mouth.
Her slender frame did not match the overwhelming strength of her grip. Sensing the seriousness of the situation, Avid nodded reluctantly.
“I have one question for you.”
A voice spoke from someone seated on the bed. Hidden in the shadows, it was evident this person was the woman’s master.
“Confess the wrongs you’ve committed.”
“W-what do you mean? I don’t understand… Please clarify.”
“It’s up to you to figure out what I mean. Time is limited, so you’d better hurry.”
“Wait, but at least give me a hint—!” Avid wanted to know who they were or who had sent them. The local lord? An assassin guild?
Slash.
His thoughts were interrupted by searing pain in his right hand.
When he looked, his pinky finger had been severed.
“Ahhh?! My—my finger!”
“My master asked you a question. Please provide the necessary answers.”
Slash.
This time, his ring finger was cut off.
Though overwhelmed by the agony, Avid suppressed his screams with all his might.
He knew that crying out again might cost him another finger.
He realized he couldn’t question or investigate them—he needed to answer.
“I—I… I forged coins! I swapped real gold coins with fake ones I made and deceived people in need, promising to multiply their wealth.”
“And?”
“I kidnapped children and sold them to brothels under the pretense of sending them to the capital for education! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“Keep going.”
“I—I distributed drugs! I supplied them to small villages, selling them cheaply at first and then raising the prices over time.”
Avid confessed every crime he had committed, even how he sold fake pneumonia medicine, deceiving people into thinking it was real.
“Who gave you the drugs and counterfeit medicines?” the man asked.
“The Black Dagger Syndicate’s Leslie! They supply the drugs, and I only distribute them. I swear!”
Avid sobbed, overwhelmed by fear and pain.
He couldn’t tell whether these strangers wanted to punish him, strike a deal, or something else entirely.
If they would just tell him what they wanted, he would give it to them.
As Avid wept uncontrollably, the candlelight went out again.
This time, he thought he was going to die.
He closed his eyes tightly, bracing for the end, but nothing happened.
When he relit the room, the two intruders were gone, leaving no trace, as if they had never been there.
Later, when questioned about fake medicine, another merchant implicated the same name:
Leslie of the Black Dagger Syndicate.
Leslie was the mastermind behind the counterfeit drugs.
Likely, their operations weren’t widespread due to the cost of materials and logistics, but they seemed to target Lumia specifically.
“This is their hideout,” said Maria.
We arrived at the Black Dagger Syndicate’s base, located in an abandoned building on the city outskirts.
It was the perfect gathering spot for bottom-feeders and outcasts.
“Shall we head in?”
“Let’s. You seem excited.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve gone for a stroll with you, Master.”
“True. I’ve been so focused on Arcana lately that I’ve neglected you all.”
“Please find time for us soon. Everyone’s waiting eagerly.”
We strolled leisurely into the building.
Despite it being a criminal organization’s hideout, it was nothing more than a gathering place for third-rate scum.
There were no defensive spells, and only a few guards stood watch.
“Who are you?”
Inside, a group of scruffy men sat huddled around a lantern.
Maria replied softly,
“We’re here to find the Black Dagger Syndicate.”
“We are the Black Dagger Syndicate,” one of them sneered.
“Then, could you guide us to Leslie?”
“You’re looking for our boss?”
The men, gripping their weapons, sauntered closer.
“And who are you?”
“You don’t need to know,” Maria said calmly.
“What? Hah! Listen to her! Coming here at this hour, just the two of you… didn’t anyone teach you it’s dangerous to wander at night?”
One man’s gaze swept Maria from head to toe, lingering at her chest as he licked his lips.
“This isn’t your mansion. How about I kill your ‘master’ right here? Let’s see if all you can do is scream.”
“Is Leslie inside?” Maria asked again, unfazed.
“This little—don’t you get the situation—”
Slash.
The head of the man who had been taunting her moments ago disappeared in a spray of blood.
The remaining men, who had been watching with smug grins, froze, staring blankly at the stump where their companion’s neck used to be.
Thud.
As the headless body toppled, the others finally raised their weapons toward Maria.
“What the hell?! Who sent you?!”
“It’s an ambush!”
“Wait, what does it matter? We’re screwed anyway!”
But deep down, they knew resistance was futile.
The overwhelming difference in power was clear even before the fight began.
Maria, still unruffled, held her skirt and gave a polite bow.
“Now that the introductions are out of the way… Would you kindly guide us to Leslie?”
The men, visibly shaken, led us directly to their boss.
“Boss! You’ve got visitors!”
“Visitors? At this hour?”
“We’re letting them in!”
Before Leslie could respond, they opened the heavy iron door, allowing us inside.
A man in the room looked up and met our gaze.
I realized something and rubbed my temples.
“So, you’re Leslie?”
“That’s me. And who might you be?”
“We’re, let’s say, potential customers. We’re interested in the herbs you sell.”
“Who told you about us?” Leslie leaned back in his chair.”
“Avid.”
“Ah, so you are customers. But showing up unannounced like this? That’s not how we do business. We have secrets to keep, you know.”
“It’s an urgent matter, so I couldn’t afford to be polite.”
“Tch. What are you looking for?”
“Several months ago, you made fake pneumonia medicine using Frezentrene compounds. Remember that?”
“Hmm? No, can’t say I do.”
Leslie rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“Don’t play dumb. We’ve already spoken to Avid and others. Be honest.”
“Well, let me think for a moment… Hmm, oh, no. Still can’t remember.”
Whoosh.
He pulled out a dagger from behind him and hurled it.
The blade, charged with magic, was a powerful attack, but Maria easily caught it.
I sighed as Leslie stared in shock.
“Let me ask you something. Do you think you’re still alive?”
“What?”
“I said, do you think you’re alive?”
“What nonsense are you spouting, you lunatic?”
Leslie stood cautiously, drawing a new weapon.
“Idiot. You don’t even realize you’re already dead,” I said.
“What are you talking about?! I might not know how strong you are, but I’ve still got some tricks up my sleeve—”
“No, not that. I mean, you’re literally a corpse. A puppet being controlled by strings, with your soul long gone.”
“Huh?”
I cut the mana strings binding Leslie’s body.
His movements ceased instantly, and he collapsed like a marionette with its strings severed.
Maria looked down at the lifeless body.
“Is this necromancy?”
“Close enough.”
Mana techniques can be incredibly diverse, and puppet mastery is one such technique.
It involves controlling puppets using the practitioner’s mana.
However, the term “puppet” doesn’t necessarily mean objects made of wood or cloth—it can also apply to real people, made of flesh and blood.
This left no doubt in my mind.
Someone with deep knowledge of puppet mastery, who also despised Lumia… There was only one possible culprit.
“This is Elia’s doing,” I muttered.
Maria asked, “Should I deal with it personally?”
“No.”
That would be the easiest solution, but it wasn’t the right one.
If that were the plan, I would have handled Elia before even entering the academy.
I had a better idea.
“Clean this up,” I ordered.
“Understood.”
As I exited the room, shadows at Maria’s feet extended into hundreds of tendrils, silently erasing the remaining members of the criminal syndicate from existence.
To be continued…