Chapter 517 - Faceless woman
Nadia continued to work, her hands steady as she applied the bandage with practiced precision. "You know," she said after a moment, her voice thoughtful, "I have to admit, I was leaning more toward Mikhail's theory. The idea of an ancient entity, something primal and unstoppable, it just made sense with everything we were seeing."
I nodded slightly, acknowledging her perspective. "It did seem that way. From the start, all the evidence was pointing in that direction. The disturbances, the fear, the rumors—everything lined up perfectly with what you'd expect from an ancient force reawakening."
Nadia glanced up at me, curiosity in her eyes. "Then what made you think otherwise? What was it that tipped you off?"
I leaned back slightly, letting the bed support me as I considered her question. "That was exactly the problem," I said, my voice calm. "It was all too perfect. The signs, the patterns, they were so neatly aligned that it felt… artificial like someone had crafted the narrative to fit our expectations. It was almost as if we were being guided to that conclusion."
Nadia paused in her work, her eyes widening slightly as she absorbed my words. "So perfect that it looks artificial, huh? I see… that does make sense. When something fits too well, it's easy to overlook the possibility that it's been manufactured."
"Exactly. It's a classic misdirection. When you feed people the information they're expecting to see, they're less likely to question it. That's why I started looking for inconsistencies, for anything that didn't quite fit with the narrative we were being shown."
Nadia finished securing the bandage and stepped back, her expression thoughtful as she regarded me. "I have to say, Astron, your abilities and instincts are impressive. After you arrived, everything seemed to fall into place. In just two days, we've gone from chasing shadows to uncovering the real threat."
"It was a team effort," I replied. "The investigation had been ongoing for a while, and everyone's work laid the groundwork for what we discovered. I just happened to be there at the right time."
Nadia shook her head slightly, and I could see a small smile. But it seemed she also realized that if she were to continue with her point from here, it would open up some misunderstandings.
And that was not something she should want.
"I guess that is right."
And that is why she took a step back.
Sensing the shift, I decided to steer the conversation in a different direction. "So, how's the local job around here? Is it as intense as it seems?"
Nadia relaxed a little at the change in topic, nodding thoughtfully. "It can be, especially lately. Most of the time, things were relatively calm—routine investigations, minor disturbances, that sort of thing. But when things get out of hand, like with this recent situation, it can become pretty overbearing."
"Were?"
"Yeah." She moved to organize the supplies she had used, her hands moving with the ease of someone used to multitask. "The local government used to do an okay job managing the gates, but they're stretched thin. Recently, with the increase in gate openings, they've even found it hard to keep up. It's putting a lot of pressure on everyone, especially us."
I leaned back slightly, listening carefully. "And what about the villains? Has their activity been increasing too?"
Nadia sighed, a weary look crossing her face. "Yes, unfortunately. With more gates opening, there are more opportunities for them to cause trouble. They seem to be getting bolder, too, likely sensing that the authorities are overwhelmed. It's like they're taking advantage of the chaos, knowing that we can't be everywhere at once."
'That is why Shanks was not here, isn't it?'
While the motives of the organization were still clearly unknown to me, their actions aligned with the fact that they were somehow against the fall of the federation.
At least, that was the case for some places.
'There are still many things that I don't know about.'
It was evident that I needed to learn more for the time being.
She paused for a moment, her expression darkening slightly. "It's not just the gates, though. There's something else… like a shift in the air. It feels like more than just a coincidence that all these things are happening at once. Almost as if something bigger is brewing beneath the surface."
And what she was saying was indeed correct.
Whether the timeline of the game's events was pushed sooner or not, in the end, the inevitable would come.
'The war of Demons, the coup attempt, The Elven Disaster, Orc Invasion…..'
All of these things were bound to happen one way or another. Those things added to the chaotic descent of the Demon King and many other threats.
This world is bound to be burnt by the chaos itself. After all, the border between the worlds is getting thinner and thinner with each second, and this results in the change in the Mana Ratios around the world, the gate spawn rate, the space ripples, the phenomenon rate, and everything else.
The day of Nexus Convergence.
It was just a start, and the convergence has yet to stop.
"Sounds like things are getting more complicated," I said, my tone reflective.
Nadia gave me a small, appreciative smile. "Yeah…..But it's also an opportunity, isn't it? For us to prove ourselves, to make a real difference."
"That's one way to look at it. And you're right—every challenge is an opportunity in disguise."
That was indeed correct.
Amidst that whole chaos, there also laid an opportunity.
The opportunity of my revenge.
********
Following that day, I was granted a day off.
The investigation concluded smoothly, and the counselor's capture provided the organization with all the information it needed to close the case.
I spent the morning in my room while also remembering what the Counselor did.
His motivations were both simple and twisted—a hunger for power born from the discovery of his Trait's true potential.
Twenty years ago, Counselor Varnis had stumbled upon a special property of his Trait, one that allowed him to absorb the emotions of others, particularly despair and fear. At first, he hadn't realized the full extent of this ability.
He'd assumed, like many others, that his Trait was minor, offering little in the way of power or influence. But as he experimented, he began to understand the potential that lay within.
It started slowly. Varnis absorbed the despair of those around him, growing stronger with each passing day. He realized that by cultivating and manipulating these emotions, he could feed off them, using them to enhance his own strength.
His rise to the position of Counselor had been part of a carefully crafted plan, one that would allow him to expand his influence over Veilcroft.
After all, he was from a wealthy family with rooted backgrounds. While not on the level of Hartley or others, locally, they held a good influence.
Once in power, Varnis had begun orchestrating the city's slow descent into chaos.
He manipulated events, sowing discord and fear, allowing the city's despair to grow.
'He really did quite crafty. Even the increased actions of villains do stem from him.'
The lack of city governing came from that. He intentionally leaked the plans and intel from inward, making villains act a lot more efficiently.
However, he kept it still under control so as not to attract too much attention by keeping it periodical.
He fed off that despair, steadily increasing his power over the years. However, at some point, he reached a bottleneck.
But he was already expecting this, and that was why he decided to push for one of the most detailed plans he had made.
His first plan.
When he started as a counselor, he initially bribed a bunch of scholars so that they could create stories about an ancient monster's traces being found in Veilcroft. The reason for that was to just sow some small discord into the public.
There was nothing complex. While they were baseless, and most scholars knew about that, that would not be the case for the general public as stories held more importance than a bunch of official papers.
Varnis had always been meticulous, his mind working several steps ahead of everyone else. He knew that his plan needed more than just rumors and whispers—it required a physical manifestation of the fear and despair he intended to cultivate. That's when he decided to establish his own company under the guise of a construction firm.
The company was named "Veilcroft Development Consortium," and it appeared to be a legitimate business on the surface, specializing in urban development and infrastructure projects. Varnis used his family's wealth and influence to secure contracts from the city, allowing him to dig deep beneath the surface and create the tunnels and chambers he needed for his plan.
The official reason for the extensive underground work was to modernize Veilcroft's aging infrastructure, including the installation of new sewage systems, the construction of underground transport routes, and the reinforcement of old foundations. But in reality, these projects were a cover for something far more sinister.
Using the construction company as a front, Varnis secretly expanded the underground network beneath the city, creating a labyrinth of tunnels and chambers that mirrored the ancient tales he had fabricated.
The layout of the network was deliberately designed to match the descriptions in the stories that the bribed scholars had spread years before.
This was no coincidence; Varnis wanted to ensure that if anyone ever stumbled upon his secret operations, they would attribute it to the ancient legend rather than his machinations.
To make his plan even more convincing, Varnis enlisted the help of a specialist—an expert in ancient symbols and runes.
This expert was skilled in creating energy conduits, and Varnis commissioned them to inscribe the tunnels and chambers with intricate symbols that would channel the fear and despair of Veilcroft's citizens directly into the heart of his underground network.
These symbols were carefully placed to form a web of energy flow, converging on a central chamber deep within the network.
This chamber was the heart of Varnis' operation, where the accumulated negative energy would be concentrated and absorbed by him, further amplifying his power.
Once the network was complete, Varnis began to push his plan into action. He subtly encouraged the spread of the ancient legend through his controlled media outlets and well-placed rumors, ensuring that the citizens of Veilcroft would begin to fear the supposed reawakening of an ancient monster.
The whispers of the monster's return grew louder, feeding the collective anxiety of the city.
And he was just about to break through.
Even if he discovered the potential of his trait later than any others and his talent limit was just a 6, he breached the limit and was about to reach the rank of 7 for all of his parameters.
If not for the investigation team.
'Well, that basically sums up.'
Yet there were some things that were suspicious.
'In the game, the city became more desolate than ever. But if Varnis only wanted to strengthen himself, he would have finished his plan and would lay down for a while.'
It seemed there was another force in the play.
'Wait.'
And that made me think of something as I slowly stood up.
Chapter 518 - Faceless Woman (2)
"Astron," Shanks stood before me with a greeting. "What are you doing here? You should be resting."
"I need to speak with Varnis," I replied, my tone resolute.
"Why?"
"There's something I want to ask of him."
"Can you promise to make it quick?"
"It will not take more than five minutes."
Shanks studied me for a moment before nodding, a trace of understanding in his eyes. "You're thinking there's more to this than what we've uncovered."
"Indeed," I confirmed. However, revealing the source of my concerns was clearly impossible for now, as how could I say I suspected this because of a game?
Well, not that I need to reveal this anyway. It is not like I have any responsibility, and I should have earned at least this much right to probe a little.
Shanks gave me a final, scrutinizing look before he stepped aside, allowing me to enter the room. I nodded in acknowledgment and walked past him, pushing the door open to the interrogation chamber where Varnis was being held.
The room was dimly lit, a single overhead light casting harsh shadows across the cold, sterile walls. Varnis sat slumped in a metal chair, his hands shackled to the table in front of him. His appearance was haggard, his eyes bloodshot and tired, a far cry from the once-imposing figure he had been. With his mana sealed, he was nothing more than a normal human—vulnerable and powerless.
As I stepped into the room, Varnis slowly lifted his head, his gaze locking onto mine. For a brief moment, there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes, followed by a deep, simmering resentment. He knew exactly who I was—the one who had caught him just as he was about to escape, who had thwarted his plans in the final moments.
"You…" Varnis rasped, his voice rough from exhaustion and defeat. "You should have killed me when you had the chance."
His words were laced with bitterness, but they didn't faze me. I remained calm, my expression unreadable as I regarded him. "If you wanted to die, you wouldn't have fought so hard to escape."
Varnis sneered, though the effort seemed to drain what little strength he had left. "Escape was the only option I had left. But now… now I'm just a prisoner, awaiting whatever fate your organization deems fit. Death would have been a mercy compared to this."
I didn't respond to his self-pity. Instead, I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, my eyes never leaving his.
Varnis chuckled, though it was laced with bitterness. "So, now you're here to play the interrogator, huh? Fine, ask your questions, but don't think for a second that a kid like you can do anything to me."
I didn't rise to his taunts. Instead, I remained calm, my expression neutral. "How did you first realize that your Trait had a special quality?"
Varnis barked out a laugh, his voice dripping with contempt. "Oh, I see what this is. You're hoping to find some hidden potential in yourself, aren't you? Hoping to use the same method I did to get stronger? How pathetic."
His words were meant to cut, to provoke a reaction, but I didn't give him the satisfaction. I simply repeated the question, my tone steady. "How did you notice that your Trait had a special quality?"
Varnis sneered, leaning back in his chair as he stared at me with disdain. "Even if I told you, it wouldn't matter. It's not something that just anyone can do, even if you wished for it with all your heart."
I nodded slightly, acknowledging his response. "That must be correct," I agreed, my voice calm. "After all, not everyone can swallow such a seed from an eyeless woman."
The moment the words left my mouth, Varnis' demeanor changed. His eyes widened in shock, his breath hitching as if he had been struck. The confident, sneering expression he had worn moments before vanished, replaced by a look of utter disbelief.
'As expected.'
I thought to myself.
'That thing was involved.'
Such a discovery of a trait. While it was something that was not impossible, its direction was slightly strange.
I leaned forward slightly, my voice calm but firm as I pressed him for more information. "Did she give you a name, Varnis? What did she call herself?"
For a brief moment, Varnis hesitated as if weighing the consequences of speaking further. His lips parted, and it seemed as though he was about to reveal something, the name lingering on the tip of his tongue.
But before he could utter a word, his body convulsed violently. His hands shot to his throat, his eyes bulging as he struggled to breathe. A choking, gurgling sound escaped his lips as he gasped for air, his face contorted in agony.
I stood up quickly, my eyes narrowing as I watched him. It was clear that something—or someone—was preventing him from speaking, and I knew what it was.
'The psychic mana in his mind. It is a 'Placate'.'
It was just as expected.
That thing would not leave any loose ends.
Within moments, Varnis' struggles began to subside, his body going limp as the last of his strength faded. His eyes, once so full of terror, now stared blankly ahead, his chest rising and falling in shallow, ragged breaths.
Just then, the door to the room burst open, and Shanks rushed in, his expression one of urgency. He took one look at Varnis' condition and immediately moved to assess the situation.
Shanks knelt beside Varnis, his fingers checking for a pulse even as he shot a questioning look at me. "What happened here, Astron?"
"A 'Placate,'" I replied, my voice steady but filled with the gravity of the situation.
Shanks' eyes widened in shock as he pulled back slightly from Varnis' limp form. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone tinged with disbelief.
"I am," I confirmed, meeting his gaze. "The moment he was about to reveal something, it was triggered. His reaction, the sudden convulsions—it all points to a psychic mana curse. A Placate, to be precise."
Shanks looked back at Varnis, a grim expression settling over his features. "Placate... that's rare and dangerous. Almost impossible to counter unless you have someone with high-level psychic mana. It's a failsafe designed to silence anyone who gets too close to the truth."
"Exactly," I agreed. "Whoever placed this on him didn't want any loose ends."
"What did you ask?"
"I was suspicious of how he had discovered his trait. When I asked, he revealed that he had seen an eyeless woman in his dream. But, when he was about to reveal her name, the placate was activated."
Shanks furrowed his brow, the wheels turning in his mind as he tried to make sense of the situation. "It doesn't add up," he muttered, his voice laced with suspicion. "Why would the Placate only activate when he mentioned the name? Why not when he started talking about how he discovered his trait? It's too specific, too targeted."
I knew the answer, but it wasn't something I could reveal. The Placate had triggered because I had brought up the eyeless woman myself. The curse hadn't recognized the earlier part of our conversation as a breach because I was the one who had introduced the subject. But when Varnis tried to speak the name, that was when the trap was sprung.
It was a clever safeguard designed to prevent any direct exposure of the woman's identity.
But I couldn't share that knowledge—not without raising questions I wasn't prepared to answer. Instead, I offered a plausible explanation.
"Maybe the person behind this wanted to leave a clue. A name could be a breadcrumb, something to mislead us or maybe even point us in the right direction. It's possible they wanted us to know something, but not too much."
Shanks stared at me for a moment, his eyes searching for any sign of deception. I kept my expression neutral, waiting for his reaction.
No person, unless a mind reader, can get something out of me just by looking at my body.
Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as if trying to relieve the tension building there.
"Maybe," he conceded, though it was clear he wasn't entirely convinced. "It's a stretch, but it's the only explanation that fits for now. I'll buy it, but we need to tread carefully. Whoever we're dealing with, they're smart—smart enough to plant these traps and cover their tracks."
He glanced back at Varnis, who was now slumped in his chair, barely conscious but still breathing.
The man's once notable presence had been reduced to a hollow shell, a stark reminder of the consequences of delving too deeply into dangerous waters.
'Dangerous waters…..Knowing too much can be dangerous sometimes.'
Shanks turned back to me, his expression softening slightly. "Go back to your room and get some rest. I need to handle the aftermath of this."
I nodded, understanding the subtle dismissal. Shanks had a lot on his plate now, and I had pushed the boundaries of what I could probe without drawing too much attention to myself. "Understood. If there's anything else you need from me, just let me know."
"Most likely not," Shanks mumbled with a low voice, though I could hear him. Not that I cared.
After all, most likely, I will be sent to another place this evening.
Later that evening, as I rested in my room, recovering from the day's events, the notification I had been anticipating arrived.
My smartwatch buzzed softly, the screen lighting up with a message from the organization. I reached for it, my fingers brushing against the cool surface as I opened the message.
------------------
MISSION NOTICE: SOLO OPERATION
Location: [Shange Town]
Objective: Investigate recent anomalous activities and neutralize any threats.
Details: The mission requires discretion and swift action. Further details will be provided upon arrival.
Departure: Immediate.
----------------
I wasn't surprised. After what had transpired with Varnis, it was only natural that they'd want to send me on a solo mission, away from the prying eyes of others. A chance to test my capabilities further and, perhaps, to keep me occupied while the higher-ups dealt with the aftermath of the Veilcroft operation.
'It seems they really want to keep me busy,' I thought.
But it didn't matter. If anything, a solo mission suited me perfectly. There were fewer variables and fewer people to worry about or to cover for. Just me, my abilities, and the task at hand.
'And if I showed that I was better at solo missions, that would also suit better for my future.'
I leaned back against the headboard, the soft glow of the smartwatch illuminating the room. The details were sparse and intentionally vague, but that was standard for operations of this nature. They'd fill me in once I was on-site, ensuring that only those directly involved would have the full picture.
'A solo mission means they trust me, at least to some extent,' I mused, my mind already shifting gears to prepare for what lay ahead. I needed to be ready—physically, mentally, and strategically. Whatever awaited me at the mission site, I would face it head-on, just as I had done in Veilcroft.
As I began to pack my gear, methodically checking each item to ensure it was in perfect condition, I couldn't help but wonder what this new mission would reveal.
'Well, let's see what you have in store for me this time.'
Chapter 519 - Second Mission
The night was quiet as I stepped out into the cool air, the city's lights casting a faint glow over the streets. Instead of heading toward the Warp Gate, which would have been the usual mode of transport for an operative on a mission, I made my way to the nearest station.
The choice of a speed train for this journey was deliberate—another layer of discretion in an already covert operation.
The station was nearly empty, the late hour ensuring that only a few travelers were about. I purchased my ticket and boarded the train, finding a seat near the back where I could observe a few other passengers.
The train hummed to life, and the soft vibrations of the engine beneath my feet were a constant reminder of the speed.
As the train sped through the night, the landscape outside the window blurred into a dark tapestry of shadows and distant lights.
I pulled out my smartwatch, intending to extract some details about the mission. But when I requested additional information, the response was immediate and firm:
"Request Denied. Mission details will be provided upon arrival. Maintain discretion and readiness."
I wasn't surprised. This mission was clearly designed to test my efficiency and adaptability. They wanted to see how I handled situations with minimal information, relying on my instincts and training to navigate the unknown.
With nothing more to do, I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes. My thoughts drifted back to the encounter with Varnis. The fight had been quick, brutal, and effective, but there were still areas I could improve upon. Every movement and every decision I made in that battle could be refined and perfected.
I began to replay the fight in my mind, visualizing each step and strike.
It was a habit I had developed—a way to dissect my actions, analyze my mistakes, and ensure that the next time I faced an opponent, I would be even more precise.
The memory of Varnis' desperate attacks, his use of forbidden techniques, and the final moments of his defeat played out in my mind's eye.
I analyzed the angles, the timing, and the subtle shifts in his stance that I could have exploited more efficiently.
Each replay brought new insights and new possibilities for improvement.
As the train sped on through the night, the rhythmic hum of the engine became a backdrop to my thoughts.
*******
Not long after, the train began to slow, signaling the approach of my destination. I opened my eyes, letting the memories of the fight with Varnis fade into the background as I focused on the task ahead. The mission was waiting, and there was no room for distractions.
The train pulled into the station, its lights cutting through the early morning fog that hung low over the tracks. I stood, grabbed my small bag, and made my way to the exit. The city was quiet at this hour, the streets lit only by the occasional streetlamp casting long shadows across the pavement.
I stepped off the train and into Riko City; the air was crisp and cool against my skin.
The city itself was a mix of old and new, with towering skyscrapers casting their reflection onto the older, more worn buildings that lined the streets below.
'Though, this city seems to be more developed than Veilcroft.'
From the map on my smartwatch, I could see that [Shange Town] was my true destination. It was a small, slightly desolate town located in the east-southern part of the Federation, closer to the border.
The train didn't go directly there, likely due to the town's remote location, so I'd have to make my way from here.
Without wasting any time, I started walking through the darkened streets. The city was still asleep; the only sounds were the occasional hum of a distant car or the rustle of leaves in the early morning breeze. As I walked, I flagged down a passing cab, the driver's eyes meeting mine in the rearview mirror as I settled into the back seat.
"Where to?" the driver asked, his voice rough from what I assumed was a long night.
"Shange Town," I replied, watching his reaction closely.
The driver gave a slight nod, not questioning the destination but clearly noting the unusual request.
"It is my hometown."
"Ah…..Returning to home…..you must be an academy student."
"You are sharp."
"It is my line of work."
"I see."
The driver seemed to relax slightly after I mentioned Shange Town was my hometown. He eased the cab into motion, the quiet hum of the engine filling the silence as we began our journey out of the city.
"I had been away for four years. I really missed my home."
"So, four years, huh?" the driver said, glancing at me through the rearview mirror as we drove along the darkened road. "That's a long time to be away from home."
"Yeah," I replied, keeping my tone casual. "A lot can change in four years."
The driver nodded thoughtfully, his gaze returning to the road. "That's true. Shange Town's a quiet place, though. Not much changes there—at least, not usually."
I picked up on the slight hesitation in his voice, sensing an opportunity to steer the conversation further. "Not usually? Has something been going on recently?"
The driver hesitated for a moment, his expression tightening as if he were weighing whether to speak freely. Finally, he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "You could say that. It's been quiet, like always, but…"
"But?"
"Recently, a plague has been polluting that town." The driver's voice dropped to a near whisper as if even mentioning it might bring misfortune.
"Plague?" I echoed, feigning surprise and concern. "What kind of plague?"
The driver shook his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as he focused on the road ahead. "It's not a disease, at least not one that affects people directly. It's the land—the crops, specifically. The harvests aren't as good as they used to be. You see, most of the people in Shange Town rely on agriculture to get by. We've got a special kind of fruit that grows well there, the [Moon berry]."
"Moonberries?" I repeated, the name ringing a faint bell. I had heard of them before—a rare fruit known for its unique properties, often used in both cuisine and certain medicinal concoctions.
"Yeah, Moonberries," the driver confirmed. "They're the town's pride and joy, really. But lately, the harvest's been off. The berries are coming in smaller and less vibrant. Some of them don't even ripen properly. And that's not the worst of it."
"What else is happening?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
The driver sighed again, his face a mixture of frustration and concern. "Some of the fields have started to rot like the soil's gone bad overnight. It's like there's something in the ground poisoning it. The farmers have tried everything they can think of, but nothing's working. They're losing hope, and if the Moonberry crop fails… well, it'll be the end for a lot of folks in Shange Town."
"Sounds serious," I said, keeping my tone sympathetic. "Any idea what's causing it?"
"Not really," the driver admitted, shaking his head. "Some folks think it's just bad luck, or maybe the weather's changing. Others whisper about curses or old spirits being disturbed. But there's no proof, and without a clear cause, no one knows how to stop it."
The mention of curses and spirits made me wonder if there might be something more to this than just a simple agricultural problem. Shange Town was remote, and small towns like these often had their own folklore and superstitions. But sometimes, there was truth buried in those old tales.
"Has anyone from outside come to investigate?" I asked.
"Not yet," the driver replied. "The town's pretty isolated, and with everything going on in the Federation, we're low on the priority list. But if things don't turn around soon, they'll have no choice but to ask for help. The whole town's livelihood depends on those berries."
I nodded, making a mental note.
As we continued our journey, the town grew closer, the first hints of daylight casting long shadows over the quiet landscape.
The once distant cluster of buildings was now within reach, and I could see the fields surrounding the town—fields that should have been lush and green, but even from a distance, I could tell something was wrong.
Well, at least, I needed to act like something was wrong, just to show that I was a townsfolk before.
"This…."
"Yeah….It is pretty bad, isn't it?"
"It was vibrant."
The driver pulled up to the town's edge, slowing the car to a stop. "Here we are," he said, turning to look at me. "Shange Town. I hope things aren't as bad as they seem, but… well, you can see for yourself."
I nodded, stepping out of the car and onto the rough dirt road. "Thanks for the ride," I said, handing him the fare. "I'll see what I can do while I'm here."
"Good luck," the driver replied, his tone earnest. And then he left.
As soon as the driver left and the dust settled from the cab's departure, my smartwatch buzzed softly, signaling an incoming message. I glanced down, my eyes scanning the screen as the mission details appeared.
The message was brief, as expected:
MISSION UPDATE
Objective: Meet with the Mayor of Shange Town. He has been informed of your arrival.
Instructions: Introduce yourself as Astron Natusalune. The Mayor will provide further details on the situation.
There wasn't much to go on, but that was typical for missions like this—need-to-know basis until you were on the ground.
I tucked the smartwatch away and took a moment to survey my surroundings. The town was quiet, with only a few people out and about, their faces drawn with worry.
The fields, once thriving with the renowned Moonberries, now looked sickly and forlorn, the plants struggling to survive in the poisoned soil. Whatever was causing this, it wasn't just a natural occurrence.
'It seems the Major has some connections in the organization. Or, the organization might own this place….'
Considering that they did not want to waste much resources, that could be the case. After all, even such an organization can't function without money or resources like this.
I began walking toward the center of town, where the Mayor's office was likely located. The buildings here were old, some even historic, their stone walls and wooden beams telling tales of a time when the town had flourished.
I walked up to the entrance and knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the still morning air. A moment later, the door creaked open, and a man in his late fifties, with graying hair and a weary expression, stood before me.
"Can I help you?" he asked, his tone cautious.
I met his gaze steadily, keeping my voice calm but firm. "I'm Astron Natusalune. I've been sent to assist with the situation here. I believe the Mayor is expecting me."
The man's eyes widened slightly at the mention of my name, and he quickly stepped aside, gesturing for me to enter. "Yes, of course. The Mayor has been awaiting your arrival. Please, come in."
I stepped into the building, the interior dimly lit but well-maintained. The man led me through a narrow hallway and into a small office, where the Mayor sat behind a cluttered desk, papers and maps were strewn about.
The Mayor looked up as we entered, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and apprehension. He was a tall, slender man with sharp features, his hair neatly combed back despite the stress evident in his expression.
However, upon seeing me, his face betrayed his emotions as he showed a little bit of disappointment.
The Mayor's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in my appearance, his initial relief giving way to a more scrutinizing look. He leaned back in his chair, folding his hands on the desk as if trying to gauge whether I was really who I claimed to be.
"Are you really sent by 'them'?" he asked, his tone laced with skepticism.
I met his gaze steadily, understanding the weight of his question. "Yes," I replied, my voice calm and confident. "I'm Astron Natusalune, and I was sent by the organization to assist with the situation here."
The Mayor studied me for a moment longer, his eyes searching for any sign of deception. After what felt like a tense eternity, he finally exhaled, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.
"I see…" he murmured, though the disappointment still lingered in his expression. "Forgive my reaction, Mr. Natusalune. It's just… I was expecting someone a bit more, well… seasoned."
It was understandable. The situation in Shange Town sounded dire, and my appearance—young and unassuming—probably didn't inspire the confidence he was hoping for. This wasn't the first time I'd faced such skepticism, and it wouldn't be the last.
But at the same time, understanding did not mean I should look over this matter.
"I suggest you keep your expectations to yourself. Judging someone just by their age can be detrimental if you might not know."
It was a short threat, but a threat nonetheless.
Chapter 520 - Second Mission (2)
"I suggest you keep your expectations to yourself. Judging someone just by their age can be detrimental if you might not know."
The Mayor's eyes widened slightly at my response, clearly taken aback by the firmness in my tone. He wasn't used to being spoken to in such a way, especially by someone he perceived as inexperienced. However, the authority in my voice and the confidence I exuded made him reconsider his initial judgment.
He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering to the guards who had been standing silently at attention by the door. Their presence was more symbolic than necessary, a show of force to ensure that anyone entering his office understood their place. But as they looked at me, it was clear that I wasn't fazed by them in the slightest.
The Mayor shifted uncomfortably, the weight of the situation settling in. He realized that underestimating me could be a mistake—one that he couldn't afford to make, given the town's precarious state.
"Very well, Mr. Natusalune."
And he accepted my words.
"I'll defer to your expertise. The situation here is serious, and I can't afford to let personal judgments cloud my decisions."
He motioned for the guards to step back, giving me space. The tension in the room eased slightly, the power dynamic subtly shifting as the Mayor acknowledged my authority.
"Let's proceed with the investigation," I said, maintaining a calm but firm demeanor. "The sooner we start, the sooner we can get to the bottom of this."
The Mayor nodded, clearly more respectful now. "Of course. I'll have someone take you to the fields and introduce you to the farmers immediately. They've been dealing with this for weeks, and any insights they can provide might help you understand what's happening."
"That is good."
He quickly gave instructions to one of the guards, who left the room to make the necessary arrangements. The Mayor then turned back to me, his earlier apprehension replaced by a cautious respect.
"Thank you for your understanding, Mr. Natusalune," he said. "I'll ensure you have everything you need to conduct your investigation."
With that, he gestured for me to follow him as we prepared to head out to the fields. As we walked through the building, the Mayor's demeanor was markedly different—more cooperative, less dismissive. He had come to understand that while I might not look the part of a seasoned operative, I carried the weight of my mission with confidence and resolve.
I followed the Mayor and the personnel he assigned to guide me out of the office and through the winding streets of Shange Town.
The fields weren't far from the town center, and as we approached, the signs of the problem became increasingly apparent.
The once vibrant and lush fields that were the pride of Shange Town now looked sickly and barren.
Rows of Moonberry plants, which should have been bursting with the rich, dark fruit they were known for, were instead withered and dry. The ground beneath them was hardened and cracked, a far cry from the fertile soil it should have been.
The personnel stopped at the edge of one of the fields, allowing me to take in the sight before us.
I could see the plants up close now; their leaves yellowed and curled as if they had been drained of life. The Moonberries that had managed to grow were small, misshapen, and covered in a strange, mottled pattern that hinted at some kind of infection or blight.
I crouched down, running my fingers over the dry, brittle leaves. They crumbled at my touch, the plant disintegrating into dust. The soil was similarly unyielding, more like stone than the rich, loamy earth that should have nourished these crops.
"This is worse than I expected," I muttered to myself, though loud enough for the personnel to hear.
"The farmers have tried everything," the man assigned to me said, his voice tinged with frustration and helplessness. "Fertilizers, new irrigation methods, even burning the infected plants to stop the spread… but nothing's worked. It's like the land itself is dying."
I nodded. It was evident that this wasn't just a simple agricultural problem; it was something different.
I needed to dig deeper, both literally and figuratively.
I activated my [Eyes], focusing on the flow of mana within the field. What I saw only confirmed my suspicions.
The mana was stagnant.
It wasn't just that the plants were infected—the very life energy of the land was being drained away, leaving nothing but a barren husk in its place.
I walked further into the field, my gaze sweeping over the rows of withered plants. I noticed that the damage wasn't uniform; some areas were more affected than others. I crouched down again, this time digging into the soil with my fingers.
Beneath the hardened surface, the earth was cold and lifeless, as if something had poisoned it from within.
'Hmm...Is it corruption? No, there is no evidence of corrosive mana.'
That was weird. Compared to how things would look when corrosive mana would affect the environment, this one was different.
In a sense, normally, the mana would directly assimilate with the body and the living parts, affecting those parts. And if that were to happen, I would have seen the traces of mana in this place.
But that doesn't seem to be the case now.
'Something that has the corrosion ability without applying mana on it?'
If that were the case, then things would become tricky, especially since it would get a lot harder for me to trace it back.
I looked around with my eyes enveloped with mana, my fingers sifting through the cold, lifeless earth, searching for any signs of disturbance—footprints, claw marks, or even the remnants of burrowing creatures.
But as I examined the ground, it became increasingly clear that there was nothing. No tracks, no signs of animals or monsters that might have entered the field. The soil was unnaturally undisturbed, almost as if the land had been abandoned by life itself.
'Nothing… not even the smallest trace of activity.'
I rose to my feet, brushing the dirt from my hands. The lack of any physical evidence was troubling. In most cases of environmental decay, there would be some indication of the presence of creatures—whether they were feeding on the land or simply passing through. But here, it was as if everything had been erased, leaving behind only the withered remnants of the crops.
'This goes beyond natural decay or even a typical magical corruption. It's as if something has drained the very essence from this place, leaving no trace of how it was done.'
I walked further into the field, my eyes scanning the surroundings for anything that might provide a clue. The fields stretched out in all directions, each row of crops in various stages of decay, but the pattern of destruction was inconsistent. Some patches were almost completely dead, while others showed signs of recent damage as if the corruption was spreading unevenly.
'If there's no sign of creatures on the surface… could it be something deeper? Something underground, perhaps?'
I crouched down again, this time focusing on the ground beneath my feet. Activating my [Eyes] once more, I directed my attention to the layers of earth below, searching for any disturbances in the mana that might indicate a hidden presence.
But again, I found nothing. The ground was still, devoid of any signs of life or activity. The only thing that registered was the same stagnant, lifeless mana that permeated the entire field.
'No creatures, no signs of physical intrusion… what could be causing this?'
I straightened up, my mind racing through the possibilities. The lack of evidence suggested that whatever was affecting the land was not a conventional force. It wasn't a creature or a magical attack, at least not in any way I was familiar with. Instead, it seemed to be something more insidious, something that drained life without leaving a trace.
I turned to the man who had been assigned to guide me. His expression was a mix of frustration and concern, clearly hoping I might have some answers.
"Have there been any reports of unusual activity in the area?" I asked, keeping my tone measured. "Anything at all, even if it seems insignificant?"
The man hesitated, thinking back. "There have been some strange occurrences… people have mentioned hearing odd sounds at night, like a low hum or a distant rumbling. But no one's seen anything. It's all just… eerie like the land is haunted or cursed."
I nodded, considering his words. "And what about the weather? Any changes, sudden storms, or temperature shifts?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary," he replied. "The weather's been mild if anything. It's like the land just started dying for no reason."
His response confirmed what I had already suspected. The phenomenon wasn't linked to any natural occurrences or external forces. Whatever was happening here, it was coming from within the land itself—or perhaps from something deep beneath it.
I scanned the horizon, my gaze shifting to a field on the outskirts that seemed untouched by the decay plaguing the others. It stood out like an oasis amidst the withering landscape, its crops still vibrant and healthy, a stark contrast to the surrounding desolation.
'Why hasn't this field been affected?' I wondered, intrigued by the anomaly.
I gestured toward the field, turning to the man beside me. "What about that one?" I asked, my tone neutral but curious. "It looks like it's avoided whatever is happening here."
The man followed my gaze, and as his eyes landed on the untouched field, a look of disdain crossed his face. He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing whether to speak openly, but eventually, he sighed and replied.
"That field belongs to a mother and her son," he said, his voice tinged with contempt. "They're… different. Keep to themselves mostly, don't interact much with the rest of the town. Some say they're strange, maybe even cursed."
I raised an eyebrow at the man's tone, noting the bitterness in his voice. "Different how?" I pressed, trying to get to the heart of the matter.
The man shifted uncomfortably, clearly reluctant to elaborate. "The mother… she's a bit of a recluse. Some folks say she practices… unusual things. Herbs, remedies, that sort of thing. And the son, well… he's always been odd. Keeps to himself, doesn't speak much.
People avoid them, mostly. They're outsiders, even though they've lived here as long as anyone can remember."
I nodded thoughtfully, piecing together the information. The field's untouched state and the family's reputation as outsiders suggested there might be more to them than met the eye.
"Have they said anything about the situation?" I asked, keeping my tone even.
The man shook his head. "Not much. They don't talk to anyone unless they have to. But their field… it's the only one that hasn't been touched by whatever's going on. Some of the other townsfolk think they're responsible, that maybe they've done something to protect their own crops while the rest of us suffer."
I could hear the resentment in his voice, a common reaction in situations like this where fear and uncertainty fueled suspicion.
But I wasn't interested in hearsay; I needed facts, something concrete to go on.
"Take me to them," I said.
The man blinked, taken aback by my directness. "Are you sure? They're not exactly… welcoming."
"I'm sure," I replied.
"Th-"
"I will not repeat."
"…..Understood…"
Chapter 521 - Second Mission (3)
The man reluctantly led me through the town and toward the isolated field on the outskirts. The walk was quiet, the air thick with unspoken tension. As we approached the house at the center of the untouched field, I noticed the man's pace slow, his expression darkening as he looked at the modest home.
"This is it," he said, his voice flat. He cast a disdainful glance at the house, his lips curling slightly as if the very sight of it repulsed him. "I'm going to leave now. I don't want any part of this."
I watched him for a moment, noting the emotions playing across his face—disgust, fear, and a deep-seated hatred. It was clear that whatever lay behind his feelings toward this family was deeply ingrained, perhaps fueled by years of isolation and suspicion.
'Interesting… fear, hatred, and something else… a deep sense of rejection.'
He turned and walked away without another word, leaving me standing alone at the edge of the porch. I watched him go, then turned my attention back to the house.
The air here was different—calmer, almost serene.
I stepped up to the door and knocked firmly, my hand steady against the wood. There was a brief pause, and then the door creaked open just enough to reveal a young boy, no older than fifteen, with a stern expression on his face. His eyes were sharp and unwelcoming, and his posture suggested that visitors were neither common nor particularly desired.
"What do you want?" he asked curtly, his voice edged with suspicion.
"I'm Astron Natusalune," I replied, my tone even and professional. "I've been sent to investigate the situation in Shange Town. I'm here to ask a few questions about your field. It seems to be the only one that hasn't been affected by whatever's happening."
"What a weird name." The boy's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied me. "We're not interested," he said bluntly, starting to close the door.
I quickly placed my hand against the door, holding it open just enough to prevent him from shutting it completely. "This is important," I insisted, my voice firm but not aggressive. "You may not think it matters now, but what if the same thing happens to your field? Once it's gone, how will your mother continue to make the ointments she uses to make a living?"
While their field also had Moonberries, there were also some other herbs growing there. I took a note on them while looking at them, and there I can easily say that the mother is indeed an herbalist.
The boy hesitated, the door half-closed, as he considered my words. His stern expression softened just a fraction, the reality of the situation sinking in. He knew, as well as anyone, that if their field were to fall prey to the same fate as the others, their livelihood would be in serious jeopardy.
After a tense moment, he let out a small sigh and opened the door wider, stepping aside to let me in. "Fine," he said, his tone grudging but resigned. "You can come in, but don't take too long. My mother isn't well."
As I stepped, I naturally took a look around the house. The interior of the house was modest but clean, with the scent of herbs and medicinal plants filling the air.
It was clear that the boy and his mother lived simply, relying on the land and their knowledge of healing to sustain themselves.
As I followed the boy further into the house, I could sense the weight of the situation pressing down on him.
He was young, but there was a hardness to him that spoke of someone who had been forced to grow up quickly, likely due to the circumstances surrounding his family.
"Wait here," the boy said, leading me to a small sitting room. "I'll get my mother."
As I waited, I couldn't help but notice the small details around the room—shelves lined with jars of herbs, a mortar and pestle on the table, and a few well-worn books on medicinal practices, though most of them were old ones.
It wasn't long before the boy returned, leading his mother into the room. The moment she entered, I could sense her presence—a gentle, calming aura that seemed to fill the space around her.
She moved with grace, though it was clear from the slight tremor in her steps and the pallor of her skin that she was not in the best of health.
As she approached, I noted several telltale signs of her condition. Her skin had a slight yellowish tint, indicative of jaundice, likely due to liver dysfunction.
The faint puffiness around her eyes and the slow, deliberate way she moved suggested a chronic illness, perhaps something that had been wearing her down for years.
The way she occasionally pressed a hand to her side hinted at discomfort or pain in her abdomen, reinforcing my suspicion that her liver might be the source of her ailment.
Despite her condition, she offered me a warm, genuine smile as she gracefully took a seat across from me. There was no trace of animosity or suspicion in her demeanor—just a quiet strength and kindness that seemed at odds with the disdain the townsfolk held for her.
"I'm sorry if I kept you waiting," she said softly, her voice carrying a soothing, almost melodic tone.
I shook my head, offering a respectful nod. "There's no need to apologize. I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me."
She smiled again, the gesture lighting up her tired features. "You're quite young to be sent on such an important task," she commented, her eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and mild surprise.
"I am younger than most would expect for this kind of work," I admitted. "But I assure you, I'm here to help, and I take my responsibilities seriously."
Her eyes softened at my response, and she leaned back slightly, studying me with a kind of quiet wisdom. "Youth is often underestimated," she said, almost as if she were speaking from experience. "But I believe you have more than enough capability to do what you've been sent here to do."
I appreciated her faith in me, though it was clear that she was a woman who had faced her own share of challenges in life. The way she carried herself, despite her obvious illness, spoke volumes about her resilience.
"Thank you," I replied, my tone sincere. "What should I call you?"
"Ah….I was rude….You can call me Maria."
"Miss Maria." Repeating the name, I started. "I've been informed that your field is the only one in Shange Town that hasn't been affected by the blight. I'd like to understand why that is, if possible. It could help us prevent the spread to other areas."
She nodded thoughtfully, her gaze turning inward as she considered my words. "Our field has been untouched, yes," she acknowledged. "But I'm not sure why. I've done nothing different than what I've always done—tended to the plants with care and used the same herbs and remedies that my family has passed down for generations. Perhaps… it is simply luck."
'A lie.'
As she spoke, I watched her carefully. The slight hesitation in her voice, the brief flicker of her eyes away from mine, and the almost imperceptible tension in her posture—these were all subtle signs that betrayed her words.
I could easily detect these small cues; the tells that people often unknowingly displayed when they weren't being entirely truthful.
Her insistence that it was simply luck rang hollow. No one who had experienced such consistent results, especially in the face of a widespread blight, would truly believe it was just chance. There was something she suspected, perhaps even something she knew, but she wasn't ready to share it.
I decided to shift my approach. If she was hiding something, pressing too hard might cause her to shut down completely or, worse, make her son even more defensive. I needed to reveal a bit of my own findings, something to show that I wasn't just here to ask questions but that I had already uncovered some unsettling truths.
"I understand that you might not be certain," I said, my tone gentle but firm. "But I've been investigating the situation in Shange Town, and I've found evidence that this blight isn't natural. The way the land is affected, the way the life force seems to be drained from the soil—it's not something that happens on its own."
I saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes, a momentary widening that confirmed my suspicion. She knew something, but she was still reluctant to share it.
I leaned forward slightly, maintaining eye contact. "I'm not here to accuse anyone or to disrupt your life. I'm here to help. But to do that, I need to know if something happened in the past that could have caused this. Even if it seems unrelated, anything you can tell me might be the key to stopping this blight."
For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of my words hanging in the air. The mother glanced at her son, who had been standing quietly by her side. His posture was tense, his eyes darting between his mother and me, clearly uneasy with the direction the conversation was taking.
Finally, she spoke, but her voice was more guarded than before. "I don't know… I can't think of anything that would cause this," she said, her tone carefully measured. But I could tell she was lying again—this time even more deliberately.
'Something did happen,' I concluded silently. The way she avoided my gaze, the slight tightness in her voice—it all pointed to the fact that she knew more than she was letting on. But whatever it was, she wasn't willing to share it, at least not yet.
I could sense the tension rising in the room, especially in the boy. His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw set as if ready to defend his mother from further questioning. Pushing any harder could risk alienating them completely.
I decided to ease off, knowing that sometimes patience was the better strategy. "I understand," I said calmly, standing up. "I won't press you further, but if you do think of anything—anything at all—please let me know. I'm here to help, and I want to do everything I can to protect your field and the rest of Shange Town."
She nodded, a mixture of relief and guilt in her eyes as she rose to her feet as well. "Thank you," she murmured. "I'll… think about it."
I turned to the boy, who was watching me with a mixture of wariness and curiosity. "Take care of your mother," I said, offering a small nod. "And keep an eye on the field. If anything changes, don't hesitate to reach out."
The boy didn't respond, but he gave a slight nod, his expression softening just a fraction.
I took my leave, stepping out into the fresh air, the scent of herbs and earth still lingering around me.
"Sigh…..What a pain…."
This mission somehow turned into something similar to my first one. However, this time, since I was alone, I needed to act more.
'Well, not that it matters.'
With that, I started walking around town once again.
Chapter 522 - Second Mission (4)
I walked back to the town, my thoughts swirling with the implications of what I had just learned—or rather, what I had not been told. Something had happened here, something that the mother and son were keeping to themselves.
The pieces of the puzzle were slowly falling into place, but there were still too many missing for me to see the full picture.
When I arrived at the mayor's office, I found him pacing near his desk, his fingers tapping nervously against the wood. He looked up as I entered, his eyes searching mine for any sign of hope.
"Did you find anything?" the mayor asked, his voice tinged with a mix of anxiety and expectation.
I kept my expression neutral, my face a practiced mask of calm. "Nothing conclusive," I replied evenly. "There's no logical explanation that I can see at the moment. The blight doesn't seem to have a natural cause."
The mayor's face fell slightly, the hope draining from his eyes. He ran a hand through his thinning hair, clearly frustrated by the lack of answers.
"And what about them?" he asked, his tone shifting slightly as he referred to the mother and son. There was a subtle edge to his voice, a hint of something more than just concern. "Did they tell you anything useful?"
I shook my head, maintaining my composure. "No, they didn't have any information that could help," I said, my voice steady. I had long since mastered the art of controlling my expressions, and the mayor wouldn't detect any hint of deception.
The mayor studied me for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge whether I was telling the truth. But he found nothing in my demeanor to suggest otherwise. Instead, he seemed to relax slightly, as if relieved that the young operative before him wasn't as sharp as he had feared.
I caught the subtle shift in his posture, the way his shoulders eased, and his gaze lost some of its intensity. He was underestimating me, dismissing my capabilities because of my age. It was a common reaction, one that I had encountered many times before. But in this case, it worked to my advantage.
As I watched him closely, I noticed something else—a flicker of restlessness in his eyes, a tension in his jaw that hadn't been there before. The mayor wasn't just worried about the blight; there was something specific about the mother and son that was bothering him. His questions, though carefully worded, revealed a deeper concern.
'This is quite a reaction, huh?' I thought, storing the observation away for later. The way he had pressed for information, the subtle anxiety when I mentioned that I hadn't found anything—it all pointed to something more than just a passing interest. He was worried, and that worry wasn't just about the blight.
But I gave no sign that I had noticed. Instead, I kept my tone casual as I spoke. "I'll continue to investigate, but it might take some time. These things are rarely straightforward."
The mayor nodded, though I could see the disappointment in his eyes. "I understand," he said, though his voice was strained. "Just… do what you can. The town is counting on you."
CREAK!
"Hey, Father….Give me some money!"
Just as I was about to leave the mayor's office, the door swung open, and a young girl stepped inside. She was slightly tall, with striking features that immediately caught my attention. Her resemblance to the mayor was unmistakable—same sharp eyes, the same shape of the jaw. It didn't take much to conclude that she was most likely his daughter.
She was well-dressed, in clothes that spoke of both quality and taste, and she carried herself with the kind of confidence that comes from being accustomed to having her way. There was a slight haughtiness in the way she walked as if she owned the place and everyone in it.
"I will meet with some friends from the city."
As she entered, her gaze swept the room, initially ignoring my presence as if I were just another piece of furniture. But then her eyes landed on me, and her expression changed in an instant.
Her eyes widened, and she froze in place, staring at me as if she had just seen something—or someone—unexpected.
Without warning, she blurted out, "What a handsome guy!"
The words hung in the air, and for a moment, there was a stunned silence in the room. The mayor, who had been lost in his thoughts, looked up sharply, his eyes flicking between his daughter and me with a mixture of surprise and mild annoyance.
Sometimes, I forget that I was also quite good-looking. Considering there were guys like Ethan, Victor, and Lucas in the academy, I did not think much of my looks, but outside, I would get a lot of gazes when walking.
"Ah, this is my daughter, Celia," the mayor said, recovering quickly and clearing his throat. "Celia, this is Mr. Natusalune, who has been sent to help us with the situation in town."
Celia, still staring at me, blinked a few times as if snapping out of a trance. She quickly composed herself, her haughty demeanor returning as she gave me a smile that was equal parts charming and confident.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Natusalune," she said, her voice suddenly taking on a more measured tone, though her eyes still held a hint of that initial surprise. "I didn't realize we had such... capable-looking help on the way."
The girl's gaze remained fixed on me, her initial surprise quickly morphing into a more calculated expression. It was clear that she was used to getting what she wanted, and the townsfolk likely found themselves at the receiving end of her haughty demeanor more often than not.
As she continued to speak, there was a subtle condescension in her tone, as if she viewed herself as being above the rest of the town's inhabitants.
"I must say, it's refreshing to see someone of your... caliber here in Shange Town," Celia continued, her smile a touch too perfect. "The people here can be so... simple. It must be a nice change for you to deal with someone who can actually appreciate your skills."
Her words, though outwardly polite, were laced with a thinly veiled contempt for the townsfolk. It was as if she saw them as beneath her, mere background figures in her world.
The mayor shifted uncomfortably, clearly aware of his daughter's attitude but either unwilling or unable to correct her. I noticed the subtle tension in his posture, the way his gaze flickered between Celia and me as if trying to gauge how I would react to her words.
I maintained my calm demeanor, not letting her attitude faze me. I had encountered people like Celia before—those who believed their status or appearance made them superior to others.
'Well, she was like that too.'
However, that did not mean I would play such games.
'Hmm….Let's make her talk a little bit more….'
Something about this girl made me tense.
'I sense animosity?'
It was subtle and not direct, but it was there.
That is why….."The people here are doing their best in a difficult situation," I replied evenly, my tone measured. "They deserve respect and support, especially in times like these."
Celia's smile faltered for a brief moment, clearly not expecting my response. She quickly recovered, though, her expression smoothing back into one of polite interest.
"Of course," she said, though her tone lacked sincerity. "It's just that… well, sometimes it feels like they could use a bit more... sophistication in their lives. But I suppose that's why you're here—to bring some much-needed expertise to this place."
Her gaze flickered over me again as if appraising my worth. It was clear she saw me as someone she could potentially manipulate or at least use to her advantage in some way.
"Indeed," I replied, not giving her any indication of what I was truly thinking. "I'm here to assist in any way I can."
The mayor, sensing the growing tension in the conversation, quickly interjected. "Celia, Mr. Natusalune has a lot of work to do. I'm sure he'll appreciate not being distracted from his duties."
Celia gave a small, dismissive wave. "Oh, Father, I'm sure Mr. Natusalune can handle a little conversation. After all, it must be lonely doing such serious work all the time."
She turned her attention back to me, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "If you ever need a break from all the dreariness of this town, you should join me and my friends in the city. We know how to have a good time—something I'm sure you could use."
Her invitation, though framed as an innocent suggestion, was clearly meant to entice me away from my duties, to see if I could be swayed by her charms.
'Hmm…..'
But at the same time, there was something that felt like there.
My hunch was tingling.
'Something.'
I was just about to say don't talk to me anymore, but then I decided to go against it.
"I appreciate the offer," I said politely, "but my focus is on the task at hand. There's a lot at stake here, and I intend to see it through."
Celia's smile tightened slightly, the first hint of frustration breaking through her composed exterior.
This girl wasn't used to being turned down, and I did not miss the increased animosity behind the gaze.
But she quickly masked it, offering a more subdued nod.
"Of course," she said, though her eyes flashed with something unreadable. "I wouldn't want to keep you from your important work."
"That would be nice." I nodded and then turned my attention to the mayor.
As I turned my attention back to the mayor, I let my tone shift to a more contemplative one. "Given the current situation, the fields belonging to Miss Maria and her son are our only real lead," I said, carefully watching the reactions in the room. "I plan to investigate further, focusing on anything in the past that might prove useful in understanding what's happening now."
The moment I mentioned Maria and her son, I caught a subtle shift out of the corner of my eye—Celia's shoulders tensed ever so slightly, a reaction that lasted only a fraction of a second before she quickly regained her composure. It was barely noticeable, but it was exactly the reaction I had been expecting.
'There it is.'
My instincts had been right.
Chapter 523 - Second Mission (5)
The mayor, oblivious to his daughter's reaction, nodded in agreement, seemingly relieved that I had a plan.
At least, that was how it looked like.
If not for the slight shake in his movements, once again.
Common folks were like that, especially those who were from the countryside. Many were not that proficient in hiding their expressions.
"That sounds like a wise course of action," he said.
The mayor, still recovering from the subtle slip in his demeanor, quickly masked his feelings, his expression settling back into the practiced neutrality of a man used to holding a position of authority. Celia, without another word, turned on her heel and left the room, her earlier bravado now tempered by a quiet, simmering tension that I didn't miss.
Once she was gone, the mayor turned back to me, his voice carefully controlled. "So, Mr. Natusalune, what do you plan to do next?"
I considered his question for a moment, allowing a thoughtful expression to cross my face. "I'll start by asking some questions around town, getting a better sense of the situation from the locals.
After that, I'll take another tour around the fields and the town's perimeter, just to make sure there aren't any signs we might have missed—anything that could indicate a larger issue, like a dungeon or a monster infestation."
The mayor's brow furrowed slightly, a flicker of concern passing through his eyes. "A dungeon? You think there could be one appearing here?"
I shook my head, maintaining a calm, reassuring tone. "I didn't see any traces of a dungeon during my initial assessment. But it's always better to be thorough. There's a possibility that I might have missed something, so I want to double-check. Dungeons are unpredictable, and it's better to be cautious."
'Well, that is a lie.'
Inwardly, I was confident that no dungeon had appeared in Shange Town. I had been trained to detect such anomalies, and the town didn't show any of the usual signs.
But I kept my thoughts to myself, playing the part of the diligent investigator. My words were simply a part of the act, meant to keep the mayor and the townsfolk at ease while I continued to piece together the real mystery.
The mayor nodded, clearly reassured by my apparent thoroughness. "I see. Yes, it's best to be careful. The last thing we need is a dungeon causing even more trouble on top of everything else."
"Exactly," I agreed, giving him a brief nod. "I'll report back to you once I've completed my survey of the area."
With that, I took my leave, stepping out into the bright afternoon light that bathed the town in a deceptively peaceful glow. The tension from the mayor's office lingered in the air, but I set it aside for now, focusing on the task at hand.
As I walked through the town, I kept my senses sharp, scanning for anything unusual—anything that might have slipped under the radar during my previous investigation.
The fields were still as barren as before, the lifeless soil a stark contrast to the vibrant greenery that should have been there. But I detected no signs of monsters or any energy fluctuations that would suggest the presence of a dungeon.
As I wandered through the town, I approached the locals with a casual demeanor, asking seemingly innocuous questions to ease into the conversations. The town was small, and the people here were naturally cautious around outsiders, especially one who had only been in town for a few hours.
Their guarded expressions and polite but distant responses made it clear that they weren't ready to open up about anything serious just yet.
I started with simple inquiries, asking about the town's history, the usual state of the fields, and how they had been coping with the recent troubles.
The responses were typical—small talk about the weather, the decline in crops, and the general unease that had settled over Shange Town. Nothing particularly revealing, but I was patient.
As I continued, I began to subtly guide the conversations in the direction I wanted, steering them toward the topic of Maria and her son. It was a delicate process—pushing too hard could raise suspicion, but I was practiced in the art of subtlety.
I asked about old traditions, the local customs surrounding agriculture, and if anyone had noticed anything unusual in the past that might be relevant now.
At first, the responses were vague and noncommittal. People spoke of hard times, of the land changing in ways they didn't understand, and of their frustration with the mysterious blight.
But as I listened, I started to pick up on the underlying currents in their words—the hints of superstition, the fear of the unknown, and the quiet resentment toward those who seemed untouched by the town's misfortune.
"Maria's field is the only one still thriving, isn't it?" I commented offhandedly to an older man tending to his shop, my tone casual as I examined a small trinket on display.
The man hesitated, glancing around as if to ensure no one else was listening. "Aye, it is," he replied, his voice lowering slightly. "Strange, that. No one knows why, but folks have their suspicions."
"Suspicions?" I echoed, feigning mild curiosity. "What kind of suspicions?"
He shrugged, a cautious look in his eyes. "People talk, you know? Say maybe she's got some kind of secret, something that's keeping her land safe. Others think it's just plain luck. But… well, there's always been something a bit different about her and that boy."
"Different, how?" I asked, keeping my tone light as I pocketed the trinket I had been examining.
"Can't say for sure," the man muttered, avoiding my gaze. "Just… they keep to themselves, always have. And now, with everything going wrong, folks are starting to wonder if they've got something to do with it. Not that I'm saying I believe it, mind you," he added quickly as if regretting his words.
I nodded, letting the subject drop as I thanked him for his time and moved on. The man's reluctance to speak more openly was telling—there was clearly a stigma attached to Maria and her son, one that had only grown with the town's recent troubles.
But at the same time, there was something more to that.
'They were talking as if this was not the case before.'
From the way they were addressed, Maria and his son, whose name I learned was Richard, it seemed like they were close with the townsfolk before.
That made me understand that, at some point, things changed.
'Something must have happened.'
And that something was also related to the mayor and his daughter.
At the very least, they knew something about it.
After speaking with several more townsfolk, I noticed a pattern beginning to emerge. The answers I received were becoming increasingly redundant, offering little new information beyond what I had already gathered. The town was small, and rumors traveled quickly.
It was clear that the community shared a collective unease about Maria and her son, but they were hesitant to say much more, likely out of a mix of fear and uncertainty.
By the time the evening sun cast long shadows across the streets, I decided it was time to wrap up my questioning for the day. There was only so much to be gleaned from casual conversation, and I had already pushed the limits of what the townsfolk were willing to share.
As the sky deepened to a dusky purple, I took a detour, walking the perimeter of the town and observing everything around me with a careful eye. My [Eyes] allowed me to see beyond the physical structures, revealing the intricate flows of mana and the hidden details that others would overlook.
I walked past homes where women were busy with housework, their movements efficient and practiced. The scent of evening meals wafted through open windows, mingling with the sound of children reading and doing their homework, their youthful voices murmuring through the walls.
In one house, I saw a woman carefully folding laundry; her brow furrowed in concentration as she worked by the fading light. In another, a man sat at a small desk, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he helped his daughter with her schoolwork. The scene was almost picturesque, a moment of quiet domesticity that belied the tension I knew lay beneath the surface of this town.
I continued my walk, my gaze drifting over the rooftops and through the streets.
As I moved further along, my [Eyes] picked up something unexpected—a faint glow of mana emanating from within one of the houses. It wasn't particularly strong, but it was enough to catch my attention. I shifted my focus, peering through the walls to see what was inside.
In one of the bedrooms, a couple was engaged in an intimate act, completely oblivious to the world around them. The mana glow wasn't coming from them directly but seemed to be lingering in the air as if something had been recently activated or disturbed. It was a curious detail, one that didn't fit with the otherwise mundane scene.
I didn't linger, quickly moving on to avoid intruding on their privacy any further.
'Hmm….'
But at the same time, something had alerted me.
'That…..'
It was the fact that someone's intimate act triggered something.
'And it was not a normal mana.'
The mana looked different.
'Similar to Sylvie's but at the same time a completely opposite one.'
Something that I had been encountering for the first time. I had never seen something like that before, even with [Perceptive Insight].
'What could it be?'
As I neared the outskirts of the town, my attention was drawn to the ground just ahead of me. There, almost hidden in the fading light, was a series of footprints.
They were shallow and faint, easy to overlook if one wasn't paying close attention.
I crouched down, examining them more closely. The prints were well-formed, suggesting that the person who made them had passed through recently.
I could tell by the depth and the spacing of the steps that the individual was relatively young and not particularly heavy. The impressions left behind by the boots were distinct enough to indicate that they belonged to a male.
'Three days, give or take,' I estimated, running my fingers lightly over the earth.
The soil had dried since the last time it rained, and the prints had weathered slightly, but they were still clear enough to analyze.
But what intrigued me most was the frequency of these prints. The path was well-worn, suggesting that whoever had made these tracks used this route regularly. It wasn't just a one-time occurrence—this person had a reason to walk this way, and they did so often.
'What's out here that's worth visiting so frequently?'
I rose to my feet, my eyes following the trail as it led away from the town and into the underbrush. The direction was odd, too—it didn't lead to any of the main roads or paths that I had noticed during my initial survey of the area. This was a more hidden route or more of a shunned.
The footprints, though faint, guided me deeper into the outskirts, where the town's lights grew dimmer and the air grew cooler. The path twisted and turned, leading me through a sparse thicket of trees and underbrush that seemed to close in around me as I ventured further.
'The forest is getting thicker, huh?'
The footprints were becoming harder to follow now, the ground less cooperative as the terrain grew rougher. But I could still make out the faint impressions, guiding me like a breadcrumb trail through the shadows.
Finally, the trail led me to a small clearing, hidden away from the main town and surrounded by a dense thicket of trees. The clearing itself was unremarkable at first glance, but as I stepped closer, I noticed something that made me pause.
In the center of the clearing was a small, unassuming structure—little more than a shed, really.