"A familiar trail?"
Delan asked, his gaze full of wonder.
How could he know that? He wondered if Osian was just trying to look good when he didn't know.
"You don't believe me, I don't lie."
"Isn't it strange to believe a newcomer to this place when he says he knows?"
Come to think of it, it was.
Instead of arguing, Osian pointed to the trail.
"Basically, ghosts have a strong negative energy. There are also monsters of the ghost family, but when they appear, the temperature drops, or frost descends."
"I'm aware of that."
"And it's common for Ghost-type monsters to use attacks that disturb the human mind or heart. It's not unheard of for them to exert physical force in this way, but it's rare."Ghost-type monsters capable of exerting physical force were only seen in places like underground catacombs that were thousands of years old.
In fact, they existed in the game as boss monsters, but there was only one, and it was in the backwoods of the continent, so they were extremely rare.
Either that or someone called it out on purpose.
"Besides, judging by the marks it left here, it's too sharp."
Osian examined the section of marble fountain that had been cut away.
The cut was so sharp that it was smooth.
"Ghost-type monsters tend to make crude wounds, almost tearing it apart with their scythes. They can't leave such sharp marks."
"You mean, it's not the work of a ghost?"
"More accurately, it means that what you think is a ghost might not be a ghost at all."
"What do you mean?"
"There are three possible scenarios where ice and frost like this could occur."
Delan jerked his chin at Osian to continue.
"The first, of course, is a mage who works with ice magic."
"A wizard?"
"Ice magic doesn't simply freeze an opponent; rather, refined ice elemental magic allows the wielder to wield a sword of ice to dismember an opponent. The cold effect is an add-on."
"Hmph. A mage. Very interesting reasoning. What about the second?"
"The second is a Northern Barbarian."
"You mean the barbarians?"
"They are those who have lived with the cold of the frost and have learned to manipulate it. It is not difficult for them to imbue a blade with the power of frost."
Of the three skill trees in the Barbarian class, the Frost Wolf tree allows you to harness the power of cold, lightning, and storms.
Perhaps the most common is the Frost Spirit skill, which grants the Ice attribute.
Sebastian, who was listening to the explanation from the sidelines, was inwardly impressed.
'I've heard that he’s a brilliant fixer, but to deduce this much from a trace like this?’
Sebastian realized that this might not necessarily be the work of a ghost, but he had never been able to pinpoint who it was.
Osian, on the other hand, was able to analyze the traces left in the garden in one fell swoop.
He couldn’t believe Osian’s only been a fixer for a short time.
He must have been an unusual person before he became a fixer.
"Wizards and barbarians, so what's the third and final one?"
"The third one is......Hmm. Probably not, they're all gone."
Delan sensed something in Osian's voice, but he didn't bother to probe.
"Well, that makes it more likely that it wasn't the ghosts, which explains why the priest couldn't exercise them. If it's not a real ghost, the priest's holy power wouldn't work."
"If this continues, someone from the household might actually show up."
Delan laughed coldly at Osian's comment.
"You want me to brace myself? Like I said, I could have easily guessed this would happen."
"I suppose."
Osian felt a subtle uneasiness creep through the mansion, then he felt a gaze from somewhere.
Osian turned his head, scanning his surroundings, but he saw nothing, just a secluded garden landscape.
The gaze he had felt just a moment ago disappeared as if it was just an illusion.
'What the hell, I felt like I was being watched.’
I'm sure it wasn't an illusion.
Probably one of Delan's other siblings' hired help, someone of exceptional ability.
“More than that, what is the condition of Dyke?”
"The old man's still a bit of a grouch."
"Have you checked on him?"
"When I first saw him, he was lying there like a corpse, almost bloodless, but he was still breathing, but I haven't seen him since. The medics and his assistant wouldn't let me in and said he needed stabilization or something."
"The assistant?"
"Dustin Kruger. He's a coworker who's been working with the old man for a long time. He's worked so hard by my father's side and he's got as much say in this house as the old man."
Osian narrowed his eyes at the mention of the man who had blocked access to Dyke's hospital room.
"Is he trustworthy?"
"I don't know about the old man, but he's got a good man by his side. At least more trustworthy than my siblings."
"So we can't check on Dyke Goldiron condition at the moment?"
"Uncle Dustin is guarding him, and even his children are off-limits. Or rather, they're not allowed because they're his kids."
For Mr. Dustin's secretary, his children were not out of the question.
So he didn't allow anyone into Dyke's bedroom, citing safety as a reason.
He had a good reason.
He had hired people to protect him, paid them to do so, in case a ghost appeared to take his life.
In the unlikely event of a physical confrontation inside the mansion, they would be able to subdue it.
‘It's more like a powder keg about to explode than I thought.’
The same goes for Elise Denarova, brought by the youngest Maria.
The same goes for the mutant organization hired by the second daughter.
Moreover, the assistant supposedly hired fighters to prepare for any unforeseen situation.
I've yet to meet him, but I'm sure his eldest son, David, has a similar staff.
'If, indeed, someone was after the fortune, and tried to assassinate Dyke Goldiron.’
And if it wasn't done perfectly, that's how we got to this point of stalemate.
One more step from here, and this house would turn into a war zone in an instant.
'This is why my senses were ringing.’
A strange sensation that tingled as Sebastian explained.
There was no way Osian could have gotten this feeling from a mere ghost story.
When he actually came and checked it out, the inside of the mansion was in a state of panic.
Perhaps to that end, there were very few people moving about in a mansion of this size.
Osian's gaze turned to Delan.
"Why did you call me? The atmosphere in this villa is not normal, and I'm sure you're not unaware of the situation. But for you to call only one fixer, is there another reason?"
"I heard a rumor."
Delan replied with a nonchalant tone.
"A recent incident in the 33rd District. A serious attempt to assassinate a member of the royal family, an emissary of the Kingdom of Carleon. The terrorists ultimately failed, but it was a chilling experience. I heard that the princess overcame the situation with her outstanding wit and ability.”
Delan smirked.
"You may not realize it, but I have ears to hear. It's not hard to get word of a fixer in the middle of a big conspiracy through my private network."
"You're brave enough to realize it's me."
"Yes. I couldn't find out exactly what you did, though, because someone was blatantly withholding information. We only know that you were there, in that situation."
At those words, Osian's mind flashed to the face of Albert Guzman.
He wondered why he'd paid him so much money, but it must have been to apologize for the cover-up.
"That's why I hired you."
"You hired me when you don't have any real, clear information?"
"Let's call it my gut feeling as an investor."
He hastened to add that it was a hunch, but there was no truth to it.
He had literally hired him based on bits and pieces of information and thought Osian could do it.
‘You're crazy.’
From the looks of it, it seems like he's going to pick apart the facts one by one and nitpick.
It's not just the bold judgment, it's also the way he accepts Osian's rude attitude but underneath the facade, there was a fiery beast.
The child of the brilliant investor and businessman Dyke Goldiron.
‘I didn't get that feeling when I saw the second and youngest.’
Despite the delicate position of a third child, Delan may have inherited the most of his father's temperament.
Perhaps it was no mere coincidence that Delan had hired Osian, and that Osian had accepted his request.
‘Interesting.’
Osian laughed softly to himself as he envisioned what was to come.
He hadn't realized that his true self would never have thought of this.
Rather, these feelings and judgments were those of the knight in his flesh.
Through the events of his life as a knight, Osian's inner self had changed.
Perhaps it wasn't so much a change as a realization of an inner "essence" that he hadn't realized.
"Shouldn't you hire another fixer?"
"It's not that I’m anxious, but I don't like it."
"Is that a hunch, too?"
"Let's call it that."
In other words, Delan should only trust Osian.
"You won't regret that judgment."
*
Night has fallen and the mansion was lit up in preparation for a possible ghostly attack.
Delan decided to wait with Sebastian in a safe room.
He didn't want to be caught in the crossfire.
It would be safe from the shells flying outside, so they wouldn't have to worry about endangering their employer.
Osian is the center of the mansion.
He stood in the gathering hall, watching the scene unfold.
"Hah, that asshole."
Homer of the Supreme was also waiting in the center hall, thinking the same thing as Osian.
He glared at Osian with irritation in his eyes.
It was bad enough that the fixer was in the same place as him, but in a situation like this, with only a knife as a weapon, it was more than just a punch in the gut.
"You look like you could really use a hand."
"In moderation, Homer. We're here for a favor, not to start a fight."
Stopping Homer was Rachel, a fellow mutant from the organization [Supreme].
Rachel, who had cut her purple hair into a short haircut, clicked her tongue at Homer's words.
Rachel was the strongest of the [Supreme] Mutants gathered here, and since she was the leader, Homer couldn't go against her will.
Rachel added an afterthought to Homer.
"When we're done, you're on your own."
"Whatever."
Homer smirked and ran his tongue over his lips.
Just then, a new group of people appeared.
"Hey, are you sure you're okay? Are you sure he can be trusted?"
A whiny voice, that out of place in such a reclusive and serious place.
Out of the corner of his eye, Osian recognized the voice's owner.
‘That guy.
It was a frail-looking man in his forties.
His face still bore the imprint of his employer, Mr. Delan, so it was clear they were brothers.
David Goldiron, the eldest son of Dyke.
Osian's initial assessment of him was.
‘A pompous ass.’
Dyke was now bedridden, but it was clear from his son Delan's demeanor that he was a very charismatic person.
However David was anything but that.
He was constantly on edge, wondering if this was really the eldest son who would lead the family.
‘He's so different from his brother.’
He'd rather have a hysterical eldest daughter or the innocent youngest but the people David hired weren't bad.
‘They're not bad, they're wizards.’
Wizards who wore robes emblazoned with the logos of their schools.
There were five of them in total, wearing robes with a modernized design.
At the head of the group was a man in his fifties, who was out of the ordinary.
He was at least a 4-star wizard.
"Don't worry, this will be handled neatly now that we're here."
The estimated 4-star mage spoke in a stern voice for all to hear.
"However, before we get started, I think it would be a good idea to get rid of any unwanted interlopers."
The wizard's gaze was directed squarely at Osian.
"It's better to have no useless rats around."
Flames rose from the wizard's fingertips.