"I... I am so sorry," the receptionist stammered, her voice trembling as she set down the phone. "I… I didn't know it was authentic," she stuttered, already aware that she had incurred the wrath of the black-haired lady—Angelica.
"Oh, if I don't find what I'm looking for, I will make sure you pay dearly for that," she said, the usual amusement on her face nowhere to be seen. Instead, her expression was cold, sharp, and calculating. She had already spotted Annabelle leaving the hotel, looking slightly shaken—an oversight in her initial plans. She had intended to catch Annabelle with whoever she was meeting, and she had a strong suspicion about who that person was.
However, from the moment she stepped into this place, the receptionist had wasted her precious time, even after she revealed her identity—something that should have made this process far easier. Yet, the foolish woman remained stubborn, insisting on confirming her credentials, all because the room she sought had strict orders not to permit just anyone inside.
And thus, a wasted opportunity to piece together all the missing fragments.
"Tsk." Angelica clicked her tongue, watching the utterly terrified, now deathly pale receptionist fumble through a drawer, searching for an extra key.
"R-Room 532," the woman finally stammered.
But Angelica was already moving.
Judging by the look on Annabelle's face when she left the hotel, Angelica began deducing that there might be more to this than she had initially assumed. For a fleeting moment, she considered the possibility that Annabelle was acting under duress, but she dismissed the thought instantly—it didn't seem right.
Anna was no ordinary noble. She came from a family with direct ties to the king. There was little to nothing she couldn't do and escape unscathed. Moreover, she was a prodigy, much like Angelica herself. She wasn't someone who could be easily overpowered—unless, of course, her opponent surpassed her in every way.
"I have to see if it's really him," she muttered under her breath, narrowing her eyes as she rushed toward the stairs, unwilling to wait for the transport relic. She couldn't afford to waste another second—there was a strong chance this place was merely a rendezvous point. Just like Annabelle, who had already left, the person she was seeking might already be on their way out as well.
"But… it can't be Eren. It just can't be. Anna should have killed Eren that day—I'm sure of it."
Her mind raced, running through countless simulations, desperately trying to pinpoint the missing link, the overlooked detail that would make everything click into place.
But no matter how hard she tried, it simply didn't make sense. She couldn't wrap her head around what—or who—could have made Annabelle react the way she did. It wasn't possible. Or… was it?
"It should be just ahead," she whispered to herself.
In an instant, she enhanced her body with mana, and the next second, she was a blur, moving at a speed that sent objects—and people—crashing in her wake. She didn't stop. She didn't care. The enhancement protected her, after all.
But then…
She sniffed.
Wait, she thought as she abruptly stopped.
She turned back.
There.
Just behind her.
A figure clad in a black cloak. She had been running so fast earlier that, when she passed the figure, she hadn't seen their face.
That perfume… Noktox.
'Who uses that sort of flower to make perfumes?' she wondered. After all, Noktox was incredibly rare. And, much like certain chemicals, it was peculiar in its own way—just as some substances could taste sweet to one person, bitter to another, sour to someone else, and completely flavorless to yet another.
In the same way, not everyone could perceive the scent of Noktox. So someone using it in perfume didn't add up to her. The only reason she even noticed was because, since childhood, she had realized she had the rare ability to detect it. But finding others who could? That was almost unheard of.
She stared at the figure for a long moment.
Then—she continued her sprint.
BAM!
She kicked open the door after hastily inserting the key and found herself in a vast, lavishly furnished room.
"They're all… gone?" she thought with a frown.
The place was deserted. No one was around. But vials, utensils—scattered everywhere—hinted that whoever had been here had left in a hurry.
"No, I'm too late."
She ran a frustrated hand through her hair. Then—her eyes landed on the door.
Wait.
She rushed to it, yanked it open—
A bathroom.
And then—
"No way."
Her eyes widened.
Noktox.
She gasped.