"There are five rooms in total. Checking the windows from outside, the room with the lights on was the fourth room from the back, so it's the third room from inside."
The first room the assassin entered was one that the master of the house normally used as a bedroom. The door opened very quietly. Sure enough, this room had more furniture compared to the other rooms. Judging by the old people's extravagant and unmistakable preference, with their vibrant red floral canopy, it seemed the assassin had found the right place. Approaching the bed carefully, the assassin quickly pushed aside the canopy that hung like a curtain from the bed.
At that moment, an object stuck out from somewhere like a flash and hit him in the chest.
—Ugh!
It was such a strong blow that it made him lose his sight. The assassin turned quickly and retreated towards the wall.
"What is it? A sword? Or a bullet?" He felt his chest with his hands. The pain was present, but he found no blood. He couldn't believe it: it had been a blow that had stopped his heart.
The assassin, swallowing his dry saliva, pulled a knife from between his arms. Although it was short, this sharp knife was perfect for cutting the opponent's breath.
—...No one.
However, the person who had attacked him was nowhere to be seen. No, at that moment, a strange sound of breathing came from behind his back. Instinctively, the assassin turned around.
In front of them, obscured by the darkness, a vague figure stood with both arms raised, covering their face. Only then the assassin could... He couldn't block the opponent's attack at all.
—Ouch!
He was being hit.
—Ugh.
They kept hitting.
—Ouch!
Continuously, forever and ever.
—Oh, no! Stop! No, stop!
At that moment, the fist that persistently aimed at the assassin's face stopped abruptly. Did his blurred vision play a role in it? In the middle of the stinging pain, when the assassin raised his head, he saw an unknown woman in the bluish darkness. The woman's face, illuminated by the backlight of the moon, was pale. Her bright light green eyes were colder than any other eye the assassin had ever seen. Instinctively, the assassin realized.
"She's a strong opponent whom I don't dare to face."
He couldn't get away from this woman. At the moment the realization hit him, the man clenched his teeth over the "Bite of Mercy" hidden in his mouth...
—Are you looking for this?
The assassin looked at the small pill lodged between the index finger and thumb of the woman. It was definitely the Bite of Mercy.
"Why is the pill that's supposed to be stuck to my mouth there?"
He was quick to judge the situation. The assassin rubbed his sleeve. In anticipation of such a situation, he always kept a spare pill...
—I'm sorry to say it, but I have two.
He didn't.
—That...
Between the woman's fingers, two pills were extended. Haha. The woman, who burst into a dry and ruthless laugh that sent chills down his spine, also raised her right hand.
—Actually, there are four.
Four doses of Bite of Mercy. Which meant...
—Here.
The woman went to the other side of the bed and grabbed something like a piece of luggage and then dropped it in front of the assassin.
—Argh!
After a blood-curdling exclamation, he met a familiar face that had fallen to the floor. It was the other assassin who was working alongside him on the mission to kidnap Malcolm Joe.
"How on earth?"
A sense of frustration washed over him. When was the last time he felt such vivid despair? The assassin prided himself on having faced many deranged assassins before. The actions and words of his opponent were reflected in the assassin's eyes and, with certainty, he could say that she was not crazy. Usually, those who wanted to show their strength tried to act indifferently or exuded a murderous atmosphere. In that way, the assassin could generally take off their momentum and gain an advantage over his enemy.
However, none of that could be perceived from this woman. She... seemed normal. A very ordinary and slender woman who seemed to lead an ordinary life. That's what she looked like. And that made her look even crazier.
"Especially those eyes!"
Those crazy eyes. They were eyes that reflected no emotions even in front of him, a brilliant assassin. The eyes that were so empty were usually even more dangerous. His body trembled uncontrollably.
The woman turned her hand indifferently and brought a wooden chair, sitting in front of the two fallen assassins. Then she uttered a very surprising name.
—This is a move I didn't expect. I didn't think Clone would go this far.
How did she know that? The assassin looked at his accomplice. Seeing him shake his head vigorously, it didn't seem like he had been the one to whistle to them.
—You're not asking me.
The woman then grabbed the assassin by the neck.
—Aren't you going to ask me how I know?
Those eyes with pure questions. The assassin instinctively opened his mouth. The assassin instinctively opened his mouth, his eyes filled with pure curiosity and fear.
—H-how did you know?
—I am the best hunter of Clone in Midwinterre.
—Midwinterre?
In an instant, a mental image of the key figure passed through the assassin's mind. Light green eyes, brown hair. A pale, small but round face. A blank expression. Ah!
—Daisy Fager!
He couldn't believe she was there. How was it possible that the superiors who were monitoring the Weatherwoods Mansion hadn't warned him? Daisy Fager gave him a strange look, a bit marked by surprise. Her face had a questioning expression, as if saying, "Do you only recognize me now?" Then, as if she had understood, she nodded affirmatively.
—Ah, I see. You weren't aiming for me. Then... were you aiming for the owner of this mansion? For Grandpa Malcolm? Grandpa Malcolm, right? You have some determination.
It seemed she liked people with determination. Right after murmuring that, everything in front of the assassin's eyes flashed. A pain like he had never felt in his life ran through his body. Then he was beaten again almost to death.
—Don't take it personally, I don't hit you for pleasure. I use violence to maintain peace. What is your purpose here, then?
The assassin replied with a snort.
—The kidnapping of Malcolm Joe...
—I can't hear you.
—The kidnapping of Malcolm Joe!
—And what about the map?
—What?
—Aren't you looking for a map?
—W-we, we've only been tasked with a kidnapping mission.
—I see. Let's move on to the details of this kidnapping.
Daisy Fager, who listened in silence to the assassin's words, let out a brief exclamation.
—Ah, right. Are you the ones in charge of assassinating the Weatherwoods?
The accomplice, who was kneeling to his right, shouted immediately.
—I've never heard of such a thing! It must have been assigned to the guy on the left!
No, he wasn't his accomplice. he was an enemy. The assassin turned pale. He remembered what had happened just two minutes ago, when this crazy woman beat him like he was flour dough. And then, his tongue moved like butter.
—Well, it was already briefly mentioned once. The assassination mission has been adapted to a surveillance mission.
—Surveillance? Are you monitoring the Weatherwoods Mansion? You didn't even know I was staying here.
—Exactly! We were very surprised to find Miss Daisy too!
—That's right!
Daisy Fager's eyes seemed to fall back into contemplation. Not long after, she turned her gaze back towards the bed and asked:
—Mr. Rue, did you take care of the people who were monitoring the mansion?
She seemed to be talking to thin air. In the moment the woman, who was already terrifying, became even more terrifying, a low voice pierced his ears.
—Yes.
There was a very large man standing in front of the bed. From when did he appear there? The man was exceptionally tall. He held his head high, so his face was partially hidden by a dark shadow, allowing barely a bit of his chin to be seen. Dressed in an elegant black nightgown that exuded a shiny glow, the man quietly continued his conversation from behind.
—They were ruining the lawn —he murmured softly with a jaw devoid of facial hair.
—Hmm. Did he mention if he was from Clone? Since it seems there are others after us.
"Who?"
—I hadn't heard of that. He committed suicide immediately. Nowadays, humans live very tight lives. Some people are not even capable of killing pests, so they force them into other people's houses to become guard dogs. Is that not so?
—You should have stopped him from committing suicide. Can't Mr. Rue do something like that?
—I can't. As we grow older, our judgment and our actions become more limited.
Afterwards, the bedroom went silent. It seemed that Daisy Fager whispered something like "Raphael..." while staring blankly. However, the silence did not last long. She stood in front of the assassin after getting up from her chair.
—For now...
In the moment the assassin's eyes met Daisy Fager's light green eyes,
—You should go to sleep.
The world turned black and the assassin's thoughts were cut.
I sat the unconscious assassins on the edge of the bed and tied them up tightly. Then I brought Lenya and explained everything that had happened that night.
—Ah, so the assassins were targeting my lord? My goodness! What on earth is going on?
—Do you have any guesses?
At that moment, Lenya, who seemed about to burst into tears, cried out:
—What should I do? There are so many!