NOVPUBAs Terrina Lionhowl and her two adjutants appeared, the atmosphere at the Rixon estate tightened with tension.
The police officers inspecting the crime scene straightened up at the sight of Terrina and saluted her.
“L-Lady Terrina! It’s an honor to meet you! I’m Inspector Teboran!”
“Yes, I see. You’ve worked hard.”
“If it’s not too presumptuous... may I ask what brings you here, Lady Terrina?”
“Haven’t you heard? As of this moment, all investigative authority regarding the murder at the Rixon estate has been transferred to our Security Bureau.”
“T-The Security Bureau?”
Inspector Teboran, with his long beard and sideburns, gulped.
He had already suspected this wasn’t just a simple murder case—but if the Security Bureau was involved, that meant it was something dangerously serious.
The Bureau didn’t act unless it was extremely severe.
“M-My apologies! Everyone, pull out!”
The inspector and his subordinates quickly vacated the scene.
Their new assignment was to stand guard at the front gate, keeping the pack of hyena-like reporters drooling over the incident from getting any closer.
Once the onlookers disappeared, the young female knight among the two adjutants who had accompanied Terrina relaxed her shoulders.
“Whew. Holding that aura was rough.”
“Enya. Even if no one’s watching, act in a way that befits the reputation of the Nightcrawler Knights.”
The female knight—Enya—rolled her eyes at the nagging voice of her senior, Lloyd.
“Come on, sir. Isn’t it a bit much to keep this up even here?”
“Enya, you—”
“Enough, Lloyd. As long as she doesn’t act like that in front of others, it’s fine.”
“See? Even the Commander says so.”
“You little brat...”
Lloyd eventually shook his head and raised the white flag.
The Nightcrawler Knights were an elite force, guarding the heart of the Empire, and only the best were admitted. Yet there was a certain informality among seniors and juniors.
That was largely due to the personality of the Commander herself—Terrina—who fostered that kind of atmosphere.
That didn’t mean discipline was lax.
On the contrary, the Nightcrawler Knights were known for carrying out their duties more precisely than anyone else. It was a long-standing tradition of the Order.
And the reason that discipline had never crumbled was thanks to the overwhelming presence and charisma of their current Commander, Terrina Lionhowl.
“Don’t forget why we came here.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Yes.”
This was no ordinary case. The fact that the Security Bureau had to get involved made that clear.
In particular, the suspected connection to cryptids and black magic was enough to warrant direct involvement from the Knight Commander herself. This wasn’t a typical situation.
“The rumors are still unconfirmed, but the deceased—Belvotte—had long been under surveillance by our Bureau. He’d been exhibiting suspicious behavior. A man like that being suddenly killed by a monster? That’s no coincidence.”
At Terrina’s words, Lloyd and Enya nodded.
The three of them immediately began searching Belvotte’s room.
There was a shattered window that appeared to be where the intruder had entered, black scorch marks likely from a burned creature, and blood scattered across the area—presumably Belvotte’s.
According to eyewitnesses, a monster had appeared and killed Rixon.
Their testimonies were consistent and aligned, making it hard to believe they were lying.
They combed the room for over ten minutes in search of any possible clues, but nothing particularly useful stood out.
Just as Lloyd was about to say something, believing they’d searched every inch—
Terrina, arms crossed in thought, suddenly strode toward one side of the wall.
“Commander?”
“This is it.”
Terrina’s eyes were fixed on a series of paintings hanging densely on the wall.
Belvotte, true to his status as one of Rederbelk’s wealthiest men, had decorated his vast room with all kinds of lavish artwork.
Stepping closer, Terrina touched the edges of several frames before eventually sliding aside a mural in the corner.
“Commander? What are you doing with that painting?”
“There’s a space behind it.”
Before anyone could ask if she was serious, Terrina’s gloved fingertip tapped the center of the wall.
With a mechanical grinding sound, the wall shifted open.
It revealed a secret compartment, no more than a meter wide and tall.
Too small for anyone to crawl inside.
“What is this...?”
Enya asked as she stared at the empty space with curious eyes.
Terrina replied in a detached voice, arms still crossed.
“Judging by its size and location, it was likely a hidden safe.”
“A hidden safe?”
“Belvotte Rixon was infamous as both a tycoon and a corrupt businessman. It wouldn’t be surprising if he had hidden slush funds or illicit money here, away from the Empire’s eyes.”
“And this safe was meant to hold all of that?”
“But the safe is gone.”
Realizing something, Lloyd spoke with a heavy tone.
“Someone took it.”
“Exactly.”
“Then... who took it? One of the household staff? Should we interrogate the butler first?”
Enya’s enthusiasm was already bubbling, but Terrina shook her head.
“No. That would be pointless. The butler’s not involved.”
“Huh?”
“A man like Belvotte would never share the location of his slush funds with anyone. He would’ve hidden it so thoroughly that only he knew.”
“But it’s gone now.”
“Just because he didn’t tell anyone doesn’t mean no one else knew.”
After all, Terrina had just discovered this secret space herself.
“Entrepreneurs, tycoons, merchants—they all think similarly. They don’t trust banks. They want physical assets—gold coins or valuables—within arm’s reach. That’s what makes them feel secure.”
“Then who took it?”
“That’s what we need to find out. It’s just speculation for now, but whoever took the safe is probably connected to Rixon’s death.”
“But wasn’t Belvotte Rixon devoured by a werewolf?”
“I’m starting to doubt that was really a werewolf. Look at the residual traces. Almost half of this large room is scorched. The fire didn’t spread because it was magically contained. That level of controlled flame—and yet such a wide area burned.”
“So then...”
“A cryptid—even a werewolf—is at most three meters tall. That’s huge, yes, but even if you incinerated one, it wouldn’t leave such massive scorch marks.”
And those who saw the creature initially mistook it for a “monster.”
Yes, it was dark and people were terrified, so they might’ve misperceived things... but the traces left behind said otherwise.
“In conclusion, someone was involved in Belvotte Rixon’s death. An unnatural death. A monster’s appearance. His notorious background. We have a lot to investigate.”
But what nagged at Terrina most was the unidentified intruder’s skill—stealing the safe without leaving a single trace.
She had searched thoroughly, eyes sharp, but the culprit left no evidence whatsoever.
As if the safe had never existed.
That can’t be. There was definitely a safe here—until last night.
The dust-free floor was the proof.
Even in a sealed space, air and dust would still circulate.
So then—who took it?
The feeling of trying to grasp a hazy mirage... it wasn’t unfamiliar.
This... feels strangely familiar. Déjà vu.
Terrina Lionhowl was suddenly forced to recall a memory from several years ago.
This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.
There was once a thief who set the entire continent ablaze.
Cloaked in the darkness of night, his movements were so elusive that no one had ever seen his true face. A being shrouded in mystery.
No matter how heavily guarded the place, he would infiltrate it with ease and vanish with priceless treasures—without leaving behind even a trace. He made countless wealthy men weep, and even more, rage with fury.
The phantom thief <Arsène Lupin>.
Could it be that thief...? No, no way. It’s been years since he stopped operating—why would he resurface now?
And yet, the method still nagged at her.
Even ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) if it wasn’t him, there was no denying the possibility of an acquaintance, a co-conspirator... or a disciple.
“Lloyd.”
“Yes, Commander.”
“Were there any other unusual incidents in Rederbelk around the time of this case?”
“Ah, uh—yes. There was one.”
“What was it?”
“One of the abandoned factories in the industrial district burned down completely. On the same day Belvotte was killed.”
“That’s it.”
Why would a fire break out in an abandoned factory?
And of all places, it happened to be in a remote spot where no one was watching.
“Let’s go.”
- - - - - - - - - - - -
The werewolf incident that had stirred up Seorn and Rederbelk came to a close with the death of the corrupt tycoon.
As for me—I was currently lying sick in my room.
Ugh. If I’d known it’d be this bad, I would’ve prepared more in advance. Good thing there’s no class today... if there were, I’d be totally screwed.
More than the aching body, the floating sensation in my head and the creeping migraine were the worst of it.
Lying in bed, I took out three pills and tossed them into my mouth.
Crunch, crunch.
Anyone else would assume they were painkillers or headache medicine, but these were, in fact, chewable mana potions—designed to replenish magical power.
Typically, magical energy recovers naturally over time, or by drinking liquid potions.
But now that pharmacology has advanced—
You can also take mana recovery agents by dissolving powdered medicine in water, or like me, compress them with starch into pill form.
Pills and powders are far easier to store and carry around than dangling glass bottles.
In other words, mana-replenishing pills themselves aren’t that special anymore.
Nowadays, what matters is how effective they are.
That’s why, in the field of pharmacology, the key concern is how much efficacy you get from a given set of ingredients.
Effectiveness.
Risk.
And efficiency.
These three factors are weighed together to grade a potion—ranging from Grade 1, the highest, to Grade 10, the lowest.
The pills I’m taking right now? They’re my own original formula.
Tailored specifically to my constitution, increasing the risk slightly in exchange for a maximized effect.
They’re my special brew, so I haven’t had them clinically rated yet, but—
I’m confident they’d score pretty high. And I’m currently chewing on them in place of an actual meal.
The real problem was overusing my strength. I normally end fights quickly, but who would’ve expected that bastard to be a black mage who transformed his own body like that?
The Bug Brothers.
Because of the elder brother, Veron, I had no choice but to use what I call “real magic”—not the magic of this world.
It wasn’t spellwork or theory from this world’s knowledge base, but magic infused with occult and mythological principles from my original world.
The problem is, the aftereffects of using it are brutal.
I have to regularly take these mana pills because I’ve learned this magic.
[━━━━━]
A voice.
The one that had been tormenting me gradually faded... then vanished completely.
It’s a voice I can only suppress with mana, which means I’ve become someone whose very breathing consumes magic.
That’s why I need regular mana supplements.
Feeling better now.
With the headache gone, other thoughts started creeping in.
The werewolf situation had ended thanks to my intervention.
I incinerated everything, so there should be no trace of experimentation left on the werewolf corpse.
The problem would be the witnesses at the scene.
Aidan.
The first-year student who tried to stop me from killing the werewolf.
Unremarkable brown hair, a likable face.
But what stood out most about him was his personality.
He threw himself into danger to protect a friend, stepped forward even though it might endanger him—something you rarely saw at Seorn.
Yeah.
If I had to describe it—he’s like the protagonist of some shounen-style game or novel.
I remember every student who takes my class, and Aidan was a model student who always stared at me with sparkling eyes full of curiosity.
Unlike most who study magic as if being chased by something, he genuinely loved magic. He enrolled in Seorn to enjoy it. He worked hard out of passion.
And now... he’d witnessed the werewolf’s secret.
If this were a game, the title [Act 1: The Werewolf of Seorn] would’ve just popped up.
And I might be getting suspected for recklessly killing that werewolf right then and there.
Thankfully, Leo and Taishy Friad, who were with him, didn’t seem to notice anything.
But if Aidan talks... that’s a different story.
How did a first-year get tangled in something like this? How did he start uncovering the truth?
I didn’t mean for this to happen—it all spiraled out of control.
I pressed my palm to my forehead and pushed my bangs back.
In that case...
There was one solution that came to mind.
Should I kill him?
