Chapter 165
“Lloyd, we have a problem.”
“What?”
Javier’s expression was grave.
Behind him, the dim midnight glow of an old flickering fluorescent light.
Lloyd pushed himself up from the squeaky single bed.
Still half-asleep, he rubbed his eyes.
“What happened.”
“We might not be able to pay next month’s goshiwon rent.”
“……Huh?”
What the hell?
That woke him instantly.
He lifted his head.
And saw—
A dingy, cramped goshiwon room with yellowed wallpaper.
Javier standing in it.
It was a transcendent nightmare of a scene.
Then Javier spoke even more seriously.
“Also, starting today, all convenience store triangle kimbap will cost 100,000 won each.”
“Hey. What the hell are you talking about.”
“This is no joke. It’s government policy. The UN officially announced it just now. Especially your favorite Jeonju bibimbap flavor—they say that one will be 150,000 won.”
“Excuse me? Are you out of your mind?”
“I’m perfectly sane. And it’s all because of him.”
Javier pointed behind him with a grim face.
And then—
Clack.
The old door opened, and a man in black walked in.
The philanthropist Cannavaro from earlier that day.
“Nice to meet you. First time, right? I’m the new goshiwon manager.”
“……What?”
“I hear you’ll be late with rent this month. I’m afraid you’ll have to vacate the room.”
“W–wait, what—”
“And I hear your grades are a bit low. No scholarships for you. Kuhahahaha!”
“S–stop, wait!”
What—what was happening?
This was terrifying.
Why was he in a goshiwon?
Why were Javier and Cannavaro looking at him like that?
What about everything until now? The Frontera Estate? Him? Lloyd Frontera?
A cold shiver ran down his spine.
‘N–no! Wait! This can’t—!’
He tried to scream.
To demand an explanation.
To beg.
But no sound came out.
Like being trapped under sleep paralysis in the worst nightmare imaginable.
Until—
A sudden hand shook his shoulder.
“Lloyd?”
“—! Uhk!”
“Are you all right?”
“……!”
Lloyd snapped awake.
He sat bolt upright.
The luxurious guestroom bed made no squeaking sound.
No dingy wallpaper. No flickering light.
Just warm lamplight, and Javier holding a candle.
“H–Javier?”
“Yes. It’s me. Are you all right?”
“I…”
“It seems you had a poor dream. You were under sleep paralysis.”
“……”
Damn. A nightmare.
A brutal one.
Lloyd exhaled in relief.
It felt uncomfortably real. Disgustingly vivid.
He shook his head vigorously, trying to clear away the last traces of that cursed dream.
“Anyway… when did you get back?”
“Just now. I have something to report.”
“You’re not about to tell me triangle kimbap prices went up, right?”
“……Triangle kimbap? What is that.”
“That’s what you said in the dream.”
“Did you dream of me?”
“Yeah.”
“And that’s why you were under sleep paralysis.”
“Yeah.”
“……”
“Whatever. What are you reporting?”
“It’s about Cannavaro.”
“Something suspicious?”
“Rather than explaining… you should see for yourself.”
Javier set down the bundle he had been carrying.
He unwrapped it.
Four pieces of clothing.
A thick outer coat.
Three inner shirts.
Different colors and designs, but all sharing one thing—
“The dragon-head reaper emblem. Where did you get these? You didn’t steal them from Cannavaro’s house, did you?”
“No.”
Javier shook his head.
“I bought them at the marketplace.”
“…What?”
What?
Javier continued.
“After leaving here earlier, I began by examining the soup kitchen and then his mansion, as you asked. I disguised myself as a regular citizen and observed his movements.”
“You hid your face?”
“To a degree.”
“And?”
“As with most wealthy homes, his mansion had magically restricted areas. But aside from those, I was able to inspect nearly all of it. I also observed his behavior. However…”
“However?”
“Even after half a day, I couldn’t find a single suspicious action. In fact… quite the opposite.”
“Opposite?”
Lloyd’s brow rose.
Javier’s expression turned oddly conflicted.
“His actions were filled with kindness. Pure goodwill. I daresay he might be the most compassionate person I have ever seen.”
“After just half a day?”
“It’s not the length of time—it’s the intensity. After finishing work at the soup kitchen, he returned home and tended to a patient. One whose body was rotting from disease.”
“Okay… and?”
“He spent half a day wiping that person’s foul-smelling pus. Carefully. Without grimacing. With unwavering patience.”
Javier described everything in detail.
It was still fresh in his mind.
A normal person couldn’t do that.
Helping a stranger, not a family member.
Without showing fatigue or disgust.
With a gentle smile, all day long.
“It was admirable. And it made me feel shame. For skulking around spying on someone so virtuous. Then I discovered something.”
“What?”
“Some of the patients he cared for were wearing clothes with that emblem.”
“And?”
“I approached pretending to be a volunteer. While changing a bandage, I casually complimented the emblem. The patient said it was just a shirt sold in the market.”
“The market?”
“Yes.”
Javier looked down at the clothing.
“It was true. Several merchants were selling them.”
“So you bought them all?”
“No. Only a few. I saw dozens more. That emblem is… extremely common.”
“Whew.”
Lloyd exhaled hard.
So the emblem wasn’t some secret identifier.
It was… a fashion trend?
This complicated everything.
He rubbed his temples.
‘A market-edition dragon-head reaper emblem? Seriously? But Cannavaro is still definitely the chief of the black mages.’
In the novel he was.
That much was certain.
So this wasn’t enough to dismiss him.
The investigation had to continue.
Because there was no guarantee Cannavaro would act exactly like the original.
‘If I assume the novel’s events will happen exactly the same, I could miss something important.’
Know your enemy.
Inside-out.
Every move.
Every detail.
Even the forks in his house.
Even the color of his underwear.
And when the chance comes—
Expose him.
Find undeniable proof.
Then report him to the Count.
He’d be arrested immediately.
That was the plan.
“So Javier, you’re not planning to quit the investigation, are you?”
“Of course…”
“No. Continue.”
“But Lloyd.”
“I can feel it. There’s something there.”
“……”
“You don’t trust me?”
“Yes.”
“You answered way too fast.”
“You’re imagining it.”
“I’m not.”
“……”
“Just trust me a little. I know you hate spying, but this is necessary. Just in case.”
“You mean… the possibility.”
“Yes. If my hunch is right, it affects our estate too.”
It was true.
Stopping the Namaran disaster mattered.
But discovering hidden threats mattered even more.
“So that’s an order. Keep investigating.”
“Normally, this is when someone uses heartfelt persuasion to move the listener emotionally.”
“Why would I?”
“……”
“You’re going to do it anyway. Why waste time persuading you?”
“……”
“Orders are orders.”
“Haah. I shouldn’t have woken you.”
“You wanted me to keep having sleep paralysis?”
“Obviously.”
Javier clicked his tongue and stood.
“I’ll be back.”
Before the final syllable left his lips—
He vanished.
A gust of wind.
An open window and fluttering curtains were all that remained.
Lloyd clicked his tongue.
‘Swordmasters really are insane.’
He had grown to Expert mid-level himself.
Yet he hadn’t sensed Javier move at all.
He couldn’t even perceive him disappearing.
Meaning the job was in good hands.
‘Then I should do my part.’
He closed the window and sat at the desk.
Tracking the black mage—leave it to Javier.
He would prepare for construction.
He opened his design skills.
♣
A few days passed.
Lloyd worked out the details of the project.
‘As expected, forced piles and anchors are necessary.’
The sandstone slopes couldn’t be fixed from the outside alone.
He needed to dig inward.
Anchor deep into the bedrock.
But there was a problem.
‘I need to manufacture the anchors.’
Dozens—even hundreds—of long drill holes.
Anchors inserted deep inside.
They couldn’t be ordinary metal rods.
And definitely not wood.
They had to be modern-style anchors.
‘They must lock from the inside. Expand against the drilled wall. Transfer force from bedrock to the slope.’
So—
Once he finished the rough design, he went to the Count.
“I need you to introduce me to the best blacksmith in the city.”
“Blacksmith?”
“Yes.”
He explained the construction plan.
And the anchors.
He even showed a drawn blueprint.
“This is essential. I need a skilled blacksmith to craft it.”
“To make this anchor?”
“Yes.”
The design resembled a wedge-lock bolt.
A long rod with a large nut at the end.
Insert into drilled bedrock.
Turn the nut.
The nut digs inward, expands the rod outward.
The rod thickens and locks into the wall.
A magic expanding stick.
But for that—
Precise threading was required.
Something only a master blacksmith could do.
‘And I can’t pull Cogidus away from home.’
The dwarven smith was busy forging for the apartment projects.
Dragging him here was impossible.
“So yes. I need the best blacksmith here. If not, the project will fail. If the project fails, the cliff collapses. If the cliff collapses, the Count will be sad. If the Count is sad, my happiness index plummets. Correct?”
“Hoho? Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“That would be amusing.”
“Meaning?”
“I’ll introduce him. Our finest.”
“Thank you.”
“No need for thanks. We’ve signed a contract. Follow my steward.”
Lloyd bowed and left.
The steward came shortly, and Lloyd followed him out of the mansion.
Through the streets.
Past countless ordinary people under the autumn sun.
Lloyd kept scanning surroundings.
‘I need as many clues as possible.’
Was Javier doing well?
He hadn’t returned in days.
Was he uncovering something?
As Lloyd pondered, they walked past the plaza.
“Whew. I heard the soup kitchen’s been swamped lately. Looks like it’s true.”
The steward chuckled.
Indeed, there were even more people than before.
Lloyd asked,
“More refugees?”
“No, I heard otherwise.”
“Then?”
“Word is… a stunning beauty started volunteering there.”
“A beauty?”
Lloyd blinked.
Maybe the steward liked dramatic gossip.
He continued excitedly.
“I haven’t seen her myself, but people say she’s a transcendent beauty. Heavenly. So beautiful that even the stars and Milky Way feel envy.”
“People are gathering… just to see her?”
“That’s exactly what I heard.”
The steward shrugged.
And then—
He gave Lloyd a meaningful look.
“Well… since we’re passing by anyway, shall we take a small detour and look? If you aren’t too busy…”
“……”
Should he?
Lloyd wasn’t interested because of her beauty.
Not at all.
‘This might be connected to the black mage.’
A never-mentioned unrivaled beauty appearing at this exact time?
Suspicious.
“Fine. Let’s take a look.”
The steward’s face lit up.
They slipped into the crowd.
Using every Seoul commuter trick:
Shoulder wedging, subtle hip-checking, natural gap-sliding.
Eventually, they pushed through the dense mass.
And saw her.
Everyone’s gaze pointed toward one spot.
There she stood.
A plain apron.
But a star-bright gaze.
Silver hair shining like a galaxy.
A breathtaking beauty holding a ladle—
‘Javier?’
Lloyd nearly jabbed his own eyeball with his finger.
(T/N: HAHAHA, the infamous cross-dressing Javier. )