The man finally spoke.

“I was planning to wait since there was no response.”

Even amidst the pouring rain, his voice was dry and rough. It took Mel a moment to regain her senses. She glanced outside briefly and asked,

“Who are you?”

The man, about to answer, paused. Mel continued in a cold tone,

“Not responding to the knock was my way of saying I wouldn’t open the door. If you don’t have any pressing business, I’d appreciate it if you left.”

His pupils trembled visibly. Though his expression didn’t change, Mel thought he seemed deeply shocked.

Soon, his eyes, clouded in somber hues, sank into an abyssal stillness. Whether it was the shade of his gaze or the atmosphere he exuded, he reminded her of a bottomless swamp.

Mel gripped the door handle and spoke, feeling she’d given him enough time.

“It doesn’t seem like there’s anything urgent, so─”

“I’m here for Mixel,” he interrupted.

“What?”

Mel blinked in surprise at the unexpected name.

Just then, thunder rumbled again, and the downpour grew louder. Mel alternated her gaze between the stormy sky, the dripping man, and the purring cat. Finally, she sighed.

“Come inside for now.”

***

“Is that really okay?”

James, an informant peering into Mel’s home, turned to Roger.

“Even if it were someone else, we’d have to report this. But it’s the young duke. We’re both finished if he says something odd to that girl and messes up her memory.”

“So, you’d just report that the young duke’s here? I guess the house you serve isn’t Allnight but Dice, huh?”

“He’s only the young duke for now. Didn’t you hear he’s on the verge of losing his heir status after upsetting Her Grace?”

“And yet, do you think Her Grace would make Mixel Luke the next duke?”

“Hey, don’t say the leader’s name so casually…”

James grabbed Roger’s arm, his jaw dropping in shock, but Roger wasn’t fazed. His voice grew sharper as he replied,

“Even if the title goes to a collateral line, there’s no way in hell that’ll happen. If Mixel Luke somehow becomes the duke, go ahead and report it. I’ll stay silent.”

“…Damn it. Do you think I enjoy playing cleanup for someone who’s lost favor? You know what the leader is like… Ugh, whatever. If we get caught, I’ll just bow and beg for mercy. Who knows, maybe my life will be spared.”

James sighed heavily, raking his hands through his hair in frustration. Yet, he couldn’t hide the unease in his voice as he muttered,

“But seriously, how did the young duke even know to come here? He’s been holed up in the manor for ages, and now he suddenly shows up, causing all this trouble.”

“…”

“Don’t tell me you tipped him off?”

“I only sold the lady’s jewelry when she asked me to. It wasn’t even a famous piece. I sold it all at once, and he still managed to catch on.”

“You’re unbelievable…”

“If Mixel Luke causes a scene, just blame me. I’d rather die than live my life being dragged around by him.”

Roger gritted his teeth as he spoke. Though he’d restrained himself so far, Mixel Luke had finally crossed the line.

If someone treated people so carelessly, it was apparent how he’d view their informants.

Roger had no intention of being used and discarded.

***

Mel first prepared a meal for the hungry cat, setting a soft cushion beside it. The cat, a frequent visitor on stormy nights, burrowed into the pillow as if it were its own and promptly fell asleep.

Only then did Mel turn her attention to the man in the entryway. He was staring at the swaying chandelier. Water dripped steadily from his soaked clothes, but Mel couldn’t muster the will to brave the dark and fetch a towel.

Putting off the cleanup, she led the man to a small sitting room. Unlike the entryway, the chandelier here was intact, and Mel felt confident enough to square her shoulders after having slumped in embarrassment earlier.

“Please, have a seat.”

The sofa might not fare well from the dampness, but it didn’t matter—she wouldn’t stay in this house much longer anyway.

Although it was early summer, the rain had made the air chilly. Mel considered lighting the fireplace but decided against it. She rubbed her arms and asked,

“Would you like some warm tea?”

“Yes, I’d appreciate that.”

The path to the kitchen was brighter than the staircase, and while preparing tea in the teapot, Mel spotted the lamp she’d been looking for earlier. She returned with lighter steps, carrying the tea.

The man had waited quietly but fixed his gaze intently on her as soon as she reentered. Feeling the weight of his stare, Mel sat across from him, pulling her shawl tightly around her shoulders.

“Since you’re inside now, you’ve realized Mixel isn’t here. This isn’t even his home.”

“I was told he stayed here when visiting Conercio.”

“Occasionally, yes. There’s a spare guest room, after all.”

The man’s fingers twitched slightly. Pretending not to notice, Mel continued,

“He was here recently and won’t return for a while. If your business with him is urgent, you’d better look elsewhere.”

“There’s nowhere else to look.”

Nowhere else? Well, she supposed that was possible.

Mel sipped her tea. The hot liquid warmed her throat, easing the chill in her stomach.

“What’s your relationship with Mixel?”

“You call him Mixel, I see.”

“…”

“We’re friends.”

Does Mixel have friends? Mel stifled a dry laugh along with the tea in her mouth.

After that, there was nothing more she wanted to say, and the man didn’t seem inclined to continue the conversation, either.

Why had he really come here?

Her mind unsettled, Mel drank her tea incessantly, and before she realized it, her cup was empty. Indeed, she had done enough to play the good host.

Mel spoke.

“I can pass along a message to Mixel when he comes by.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll return tomorrow.”

Come back tomorrow?

Mel’s eyes narrowed slightly at his remark, but before she could respond, the man stood up. Watching his head rise fully upright, she followed suit and stood as well. He extended a hand for a handshake.

“My apologies for the late introduction. My name is Pearl.”

She stared at him blankly but didn’t take his hand. Instead, she introduced herself in a detached tone.

“I’m Mel Slopey.”

As he withdrew his hand, she studied his face and asked what had been on her mind.

“By the way, do you always avoid smiling?”

***

Having gained certainty from the seer, Gopher bolted out of the mansion.

He had no other ambitions. If he could see Bleria alive again, he felt he could let go of his lingering regrets.

Even if he couldn’t bring her back, it wouldn’t matter. Even if she glared at him with a changed expression or tried to kill him, he thought he could bear it.

As long as she’s alive.

Nearly half a year had passed since a fake corpse had been discovered.

Crossing the border immediately after the incident carried too much risk, so it was likely that Bleria was still within the empire. Gopher meticulously searched cities and surrounding areas where smuggling ships might dock. Eventually, he received information.

“Some high-grade jewels were sold all at once, including a relatively worthless pearl ring. Here’s the list—please verify it.”

He found a significant match by comparing it with the inventory Selene Pincher had pressured a maid into providing. Including the low-value pearl ring lent credibility, as it matched a keepsake from Nroma Rings.

It was rare to sell such valuable jewels all at once. Although his aide felt uneasy about the situation, Gopher didn’t care, even if it was bait in a trap.

Fixing his destination to Conercio, he began searching the area in line with Selene’s testimony that Bleria had been given tawny dye. Soon, he heard about a woman who rarely left her house but wore a large hat whenever she ventured out.

Finally, upon reaching the house, Gopher witnessed Daisy Cape opening the door and stepping out.

“…….”

Despite the storm raging around him, he felt no raindrops on his skin. Every sense was utterly focused on one point.

Bleria is in there…

Sweat collected on his palm, causing him to lose hold of his umbrella. It was only then he realized how nervous he was. Leaving the now-useless umbrella by the porch, he approached the door.

He grabbed the doorknob and knocked.

Even the sound of his knocking felt like crushing his heart. He wasn’t expecting a warm reception.

Bleria was living in hiding, and their last encounter hadn’t ended on good terms.

She might hurl curses at him, attack him, or turn pale and flee. Countless scenarios played through his mind, but beyond the door, it was silent. He knocked again, thinking she might not have heard him over the rain, but the result was the same.

The storm was so loud it was impossible to determine if anyone was inside.

Was the house empty? Had she gone to bed early? Or perhaps—

What if it was all a delusion?

The idea that Bleria lived here, that she hadn’t died, even the words of those who spoke of her—it could all be an illusion.

What if I’m still under the spell of Dreamer’s Bloom, chasing nothing but hallucinations…?

That thought left him unable to knock again. He held his breath and slowly stepped back. If not for the object he stumbled upon, he might have left Conercio entirely.

A sharp hiss, almost like the wind, rose from below. There, crouched low to the ground, was a white, furry bundle.

“A cat…?”

He had been too distracted to notice, but it must have been hiding behind the pillar. Its tail lashed aggressively, drenched in rainwater, while its piercing eyes, a familiar color, glared at him. Picking up the discarded umbrella, Gopher recognized the connection.