She realized he was the only one who found the incident suspicious. He had even worn a mask to discover the truth, stealing evidence from someone’s house to secretly deliver it to the newspaper.

Yet his attempt had been blocked by higher powers. The mere fact that he had tried filled her heart with excitement, making her eager to know him better.

Even through her alcohol-induced haze, she desperately wanted to meet again with the man who had attempted to expose that article. And now here they were.

Though she couldn’t identify the exact nature of this feeling, she was overwhelmed by the impulse to learn more about him.

“You should leave now,” he said in a cold voice.

“I can’t go empty-handed,” Debbie stubbornly shook her head.

“I have absolutely no intention of becoming your s*x partner. Nor do I want to hurt you to silence you. You don’t really want to die by my hands, do you?” he growled threateningly.

Yet strangely, she felt certain he wouldn’t harm her. If he truly meant to kill her, he wouldn’t bother saying such things. Though she had no evidence, this conviction grew strongly within her.

“I’m asking for a possibility. Who knows? You might need my help someday.”

“I don’t need that kind of help.”

“Still, you never know what might happen. Since you’re familiar with the publishing house, you know the memo board on the supply room door, right? The section for checking inventory. If you leave a star there, I’ll take it as a signal that you need my help. I’ll wait for you there.”

Debbie hastily blurted out these words. Fearing she might never get a response from him, she created an indirect point of contact between them. Tired of arguing with her, he sighed and waved his hand.

“Fine, now get out!”

Debbie nodded reflexively and went outside. Though the doorknob turned erratically, she did her best to close it tightly. For a while, she heard rustling sounds from inside, then silence fell.

“Senior?”

She carefully opened the door again. The supply room was completely empty, showing no trace of their encounter. Her face suddenly burned hot with embarrassment. Regret washed over her for being so forceful with him. She had desperately tried to hold onto him, but he clearly didn’t want her help. This realization made her feel even more lonely.

* * *

Morning broke.

“Achoo!”

When someone sneezed violently, others began to wake up one by one. They each commented on the dark green blankets covering them.

“Who brought these blankets?”

Debbie quietly raised her hand.

“The rookie has good sense.”

Seeing that people were awake, Allen asked the cooks to prepare mulled wine. In the bustling movement, those who needed to wake up did so, while others who wanted more sleep squirmed and pulled their blankets tighter. People started chatting again, resuming conversations as though they had never fallen asleep.

“It’s been a while since I’ve enjoyed the dawn air. This would have been a perfect company dinner if only the president hadn’t come.”

“What’s wrong with the president?”

A model, using the cold as an excuse, slipped under someone else’s blanket and wrapped her arms around them.

“Why is everyone shivering outside when we could go inside?”

“The president is in there.”

“So what? Employees have to spend the night in the cold just because the president is inside?”

“Read the room. You think everyone’s huddled around the bonfire because they don’t know it’s cold?”

“What’s wrong with going inside? The worst that could happen is running into the president in the hallway.”

“He’s a complete jerk. He struts around like he’s the only important person in the world. Drugs, alcohol, gambling—he deliberately does everything he shouldn’t. He keeps dipping into company funds, and the editor-in-chief works so hard to cover those holes. It’s best not to cross paths with someone like that.”

“Oh really?” the model made a nasal sound of surprise and snuggled deeper into the embrace.

“Looks like you’ve decided to try seducing him.”

“You caught me. In our position, we’d seduce a beggar if he paid enough.”

“You’re a model now, not a pr*stitute. Get a grip. Didn’t you say you were making a fresh start?”

“But the other girls advised me to aim high while I’m young.”

“If you don’t manage your image well, the editor-in-chief will cut you off immediately. Watch what you say and do.”

“Tch.”

Debbie perked up her ears at their conversation.

“Many women have approached him like you’re planning to and left in tears. Be careful.”

Recalling the young Blake she had met on the orchard hillside, Debbie looked up at the second floor where he was staying. Ten years had passed since then. She remembered the phantom thief’s claim that Blake’s process of becoming the lord of Terium needed thorough reinvestigation.

Perhaps the phantom thief had secretly infiltrated to meet Count Barnabas because the newspaper article had been blocked. With this thought, she glanced up at the second floor again.

If he had gone straight to Count Barnabas, there should have been a commotion by now, yet the second floor remained quiet.

‘Since they’re from the same newspaper, he probably won’t take extreme action,’ Debbie licked her dry lips, trying to suppress her anxiety.

Count Barnabas had benefited the most from the Terium Province rebellion. Such a person wouldn’t readily answer the phantom thief’s questions, nor would he tell Debbie the truth even if she asked.

Nevertheless, Debbie shared the phantom thief’s sentiment—hoping Count Barnabas would speak the truth. One approach would be to investigate how someone who was merely from a high-ranking family suddenly became a count overnight.

But how could she possibly do that?

Interrupting her thoughts, a commotion erupted from the second floor, and soon Count Barnabas emerged, striding purposefully.

“Eek!”

The employees who were rekindling the bonfire jumped in surprise at his appearance and lined up, but he pushed them aside with an irritated expression.

“What brings you out so early, Count?”

“Mind your own business. Don’t worry about me.”

People tend to worry more when told not to. Even those who had been sleeping were awakened to see the Count off. Strangely, his gaze remained fixed on Debbie the entire time. His pink eyes looked almost red as he glared at her fiercely. Debbie was bewildered by his sudden hostility.

Could he read her thoughts?

Her heart pounded. She had indeed imagined grabbing his collar and shaking him, demanding to know how he became the lord of Terium. But unless he had mastered mind reading, he couldn’t possibly know her thoughts. Yet he continued to glare at her angrily.

Debbie unconsciously swallowed hard.

“Do you have something to say to me?” she finally asked in a small voice, unable to bear his stare.

“You, come to my mansion later. Ask that man back there for directions.” Blake gestured with his chin toward Fret, who was standing behind him.

What?

Debbie was so surprised that she could only open and close her mouth, missing the right moment to ask why. Having said what he needed to, he strode away again. She almost followed to ask why but closed her mouth.

Perhaps this would be her chance to ask about how he inherited Terium Province. If she could somehow build a relationship with him, she might learn the truth about that day.

As soon as Blake boarded the waiting carriage in front of the villa, it departed. The onlookers rubbed their sleepy eyes and whispered, wondering what had happened.

“Debbie, do you know why the president personally invited you to his mansion?” Benjamin asked incredulously.

But Debbie had nothing to offer in response. As she shrugged and maintained a clueless expression, Louis spoke up.

“Maybe he wants to praise you because the latest issue sold well?”

“If that’s the case, why only call the rookie? He should summon all of us who contributed to this issue,” Benjamin grumbled, causing everyone to look at Debbie again.

“Being invited feels ominous, given the president’s notorious reputation.”

“Still, I heard he only played with bar women, never touching ordinary people.”

The art team members each added their comments. Among them, Debbie was particularly bothered by the expression of a woman named Ashley, who was staring intently at her with what appeared to be an unfriendly look.

“Why are you all crowding there? Go inside,” Editor-in-Chief Gray was suddenly walking up from the main gate, gesturing for them to return to their places.

“Oh, Editor, when did you come out?”

“I came out to see the Count off. Didn’t you see me?”

Gray walked toward the villa, maintaining a casual appearance.

“We’ll disperse after breakfast.”

Debbie noticed him walking unsteadily as he spoke.

“Editor.”

She called out to him without thinking. He paused briefly and glanced back. Suddenly, his shoulders looked so frail that she wanted to wrap her blanket around him. But seeing his cold blue eyes, she couldn’t express her true feelings.

“Let’s definitely have breakfast together.”

She awkwardly mumbled those words instead.

Good heavens. Look at his face.

In the dawn light, his face appeared puffy, like someone who had applied makeup clumsily. Surely a man wouldn’t wear makeup… or would he? Had he applied it to hide his haggard complexion?

Whether he had or not, he looked pitiful. The more he tried to hide it, the more obvious it became.

Debbie inwardly clicked her tongue.

“You must. You absolutely must.”

She implored him. Gray nodded halfheartedly, clearly annoyed.

“I will.”

Fret was standing at the entrance of the villa. He was smoking and offered one to Gray as well. Debbie observed the two standing together intently. She had thought they looked similar, but seeing them side by side, their differences became clearly visible.

Gray exhaled a long stream of smoke and caught Debbie’s eye. Embarrassed at being caught observing them, she turned her head away.

“Is that employee the one who discovered that space? Doesn’t that mask transform the wearer’s face enough that ordinary people can’t recognize them? Enough that people can’t recognize your face or mine. Or did the magic stone’s effective period expire in the meantime?” Fret asked, drawing on his cigarette.

“The magic stone was replaced not long ago. It’s not a mask problem. She’s strangely perceptive. It’s like she has eyes of truth. No one has ever recognized the mask before, but she seemed to see right through it. Magic doesn’t seem to work on her. That’s why I’m using direct disguise now.”

Gray tilted his head with an irritated expression.

“Damn it. This is ruined. It was a perfect opportunity while Marquis Clarence was away. By now, I could have ransacked his townhouse and had time to spare.”

“Are you certain?”

“If I were Marquis Clarence’s illegitimate child, there would have been no need to eliminate Viscount Heiler. Viscount Heiler could have testified about my birth.”

Fret responded with a bitter smile.

“But you did eliminate Viscount Heiler. Is Blanche’s whereabouts also unknown?”

Gray quietly nodded and closed his eyes tightly.

“If she had just said one word, just one, I wouldn’t be wandering so desperately trying to discover my origins.”