Young Master, I've finished negotiations with this shop as well. Please take a look."
"…Wow, Alfred. What's your secret?"
"Haha, well, I've spent decades managing people, haven't I?"
Despite all the nagging Whitney had endured from him, Alfred had revealed his true colors from his younger days, making Whitney's group's investigation progress smoothly.
"Still, I would have thought that thugs from the underworld would be quite different from household servants…"
"Come on, step inside."
The back alleys had never been a place where logic or rules applied, but even the drifters who lived there had their own minimal codes of conduct.
"I made it very clear to them—no one will dare lay a hand on you, Young Master."
For instance, they knew better than to provoke their old godfather, who would often take leave under the pretense of joining the servants' union, only to exert his influence over the underworld instead.
"The former ruler of the back alleys has finally returned home."
"Boss, are you sure this is okay?"
However, given the nature of the back alleys, there were always those who disregarded even such unwritten rules.
"If this goes wrong, the consequences…"
"Idiot, get a grip. We're not trying to take out that old man in the back room, are we?"
Like, for example, the upstart criminal organization that was brazenly tailing Whitney's group as if they were just strolling through town.
"We just need to wait for the right moment and kidnap those two kids following that old man."
"But what about after that?"
"You fool. Just look at them—they seem close. We can use threats or whatever to squeeze money and benefits out of them."
Of course, such groups were nothing more than pathetic lowlifes with neither proper plans nor sufficient strength.
By that point, their fate had already been sealed—Runiel, who had quietly placed her hand on the hilt of her sword, would take care of them.
"Target confirmed. That must be the one."
But for one of the traditional powers of the underworld, which had spread its influence like a spider's web throughout the alleys, the situation was slightly different.
"The Great Shadow has ordered this person to be captured alive."
Though the order had only come in minutes ago, the black mages scattered across the underworld had at least enough strength to face Runiel.
"The lives of the others are of no concern."
At that very moment, as the alley where Whitney's group stood became thick with bloodlust…
"…Alfred, may I have a word?"
"Hm?"
Just as Whitney entered the shop, Runiel, who was about to follow, suddenly stopped in her tracks and turned to Alfred behind her.
"It seems we can no longer ignore the ones tailing us."
"Hmm. Are we being followed? Then why are you telling me instead of the Young Master?"
"…Don't pretend you don't know."
At her words, Alfred tilted his head slightly, but as Runiel pressed him further, his gaze sharpened.
"When you stepped forward earlier, I clearly sensed the aura you were releasing."
"Haha…"
"Why have you been hiding such power all this time?"
At last, Alfred let out a bitter chuckle and remained silent for a moment.
"It's because of an old promise I made with the Young Master's father—the Count."
Then, as he lifted his head to gaze at the sky, his expression briefly reflected regret.
"Please, keep this a secret from the Young Master. It's one of the few wishes this old man has left."
"…If he asks me, I'll have no choice but to tell him the truth."
"Hm. That loyalty of yours—I quite like it."
With a faint smile at her matter-of-fact response, Alfred turned his gaze toward the shop where Whitney had gone in.
"When the Young Master said he was going to the slave market, I was so worried that he might be following in my footsteps…"
For a moment, his expression softened with affection as he murmured those words.
"…I'll take care of those vermin lurking in the darkness."
Then, as he shifted his gaze toward the shadowed alley, his eyes glowed with a murderous intent unbefitting a man of his age.
"They've always been the troublemakers of the underworld."
"Are you sure about this?"
Despite his confidence, Runiel, mindful of his age, looked slightly concerned.
"Well, it's been a while since I got some exercise."
But seeing the thick mana beginning to envelop his hand as he spoke so casually, she quickly realized her concern was misplaced and turned her head away.
"Then I'll quickly deal with the small fry and rejoin—huh?"
However, just as she firmly gripped her sword's hilt, preparing for battle, her expression suddenly shifted to one of confusion.
"Hmm?"
Alfred, who had been staring into the unnatural darkness settled over the alley, also reacted the same way.
"Alfred, this is…"
"…Yes, this is certainly strange."
The bloodlust that had filled the alley just moments ago had vanished in the blink of an eye.
"Did they sense our strength and flee?"
"I don't think so. If they had, we would've noticed something."
Runiel offered a rational guess, but Alfred shook his head as he carefully examined the suspicious smoke rising from where the enemies had been.
"…It seems they've disappeared right before our eyes."
"What?"
"Whoever did this must be incredibly powerful."
Yet even he couldn't offer a clear explanation.
"It's one thing if they were just lowly thugs, but even the black mages—who have high resistance to magic—were reduced to dust…"
From what he knew, there were only a handful of people in the world capable of something like this.
"Unless a high-level white mage like the Count deliberately unleashed their killing intent, this shouldn't be possible…"
As he stroked his beard, trying to reach a logical conclusion, Alfred suddenly trailed off, his eyes widening.
"…Wait, a white mage?"
A face flashed in his mind—one so familiar that he had momentarily overlooked it.
"No… no way. There's no way the Young Master would…"
Quickly shaking his head, he tried to dismiss the unsettling suspicion creeping into his thoughts.
"Haha, Alfred."
"…Hurk."
At that moment, Whitney's voice rang out beside him.
Nearly ready to retire early from shock, Alfred turned his head, looking as if he had just seen a ghost.
"This place is a disappointment as well. Only low-level humans gathered here—just a waste of my sight."
"..."
"And the trash, why is there so much of it? No matter how much you clean, it never seems to end."
Even though the shop's door had never been opened, Whitney was somehow already outside, standing next to Alfred and making spine-chilling remarks with a smile.
"Well, there's still a long way to go, so I'll stop complaining and move on to the next shop…"
"Th-That communication crystal! Hand it over!"
"Huh?"
"Oh dear, my poor Parsha. She's at the age where she should be enjoying fairy tales…"
Alfred, who had been staring blankly at Whitney, suddenly snatched the crystal orb from his hand and hugged it protectively, his voice trembling as if about to cry.
"…I will strive to improve myself even further, Master."
"…?"
Whitney, bewildered by the situation, looked even more confused when Runiel suddenly approached with an expression full of reverence.
'Why is everyone acting like this?'
All he had done was exit through the back door after finishing his investigation, then grumble at the sight of trash littering the street.
It was truly unfair.
°°°°°°°°°
Meanwhile, a few blocks away from Whitney's group, in a quiet street—
"Tsk."
The one quietly standing there with jewel-like eyes gleaming in the dim light was none other than Lady Meredia.
She pulled the hood of her robe back over her face, suppressing the magic she had just unleashed.
"Seriously, people are such a nuisance."
Despite the presence of Alfred and Runiel, it had been she who took strong measures, even using the rare power of her gemstone.
But there was no one left in the world to complain about that anymore.
"…L-Lady Meredia! We've gathered the information as you requested!"
"You're late."
Her gaze had been fixed on her fiancé for some time, but now, her cold voice was directed at the informant who had approached her.
"I-I'm sorry!"
"Forget it. Just keep talking."
Sensing that the lady's mood was unusually tense lately, the informant, who had been about to bow, instead stole a nervous glance at her still-unimpressed expression before cautiously continuing.
"There isn't much information on your fiancé, even within the information guild. The only things we found were scandalous and disrespectful rumors about you."
"Such as?"
"For example, reports of Lady Meredia blushing while whispering in a carriage with Lord Whitney… Or that you're secretly keeping his handkerchief as a treasured possession…"
"Enough. Anything else?"
Meredia cut him off without realizing it, and the informant, taking it as a sign of her anger, felt a chill run down his spine as he hurriedly changed the subject.
"There was, however, plenty of information regarding his younger sister and Runiel, who is presumed to be one of his closest aides…"
"That's all you have to say?"
Seeing her gaze grow even colder, the informant broke into a cold sweat.
"T-This isn't confirmed, and it's trivial information, but…"
At last, knowing he had nothing more valuable, he clenched his eyes shut and muttered the most useless piece of information he had come across.
"Lord Whitney is apparently very fond of origami."
"..."
"You probably didn't want to know something so trivial, right? But there was so little information on him…"
Bracing himself for her inevitable fury, the informant trembled slightly, preparing for the worst.
—Clink…
But instead of a reprimand, what landed in his hands was a leather pouch filled with gold coins.
"That will do."
"…Really?"
Momentarily stunned, the informant blinked at her in disbelief as Meredia, already turning to leave, gave her next command.
"From now on, report everything about him, no matter how trivial."
"…Y-Yes!"
"If you have time to answer, you have time to work."
"Understood!"
Without sparing him a second glance, Lady Meredia walked away, leaving the informant bowing deeply.
"Hmph."
Then, suddenly stopping in her tracks, she cast a sidelong glance at Whitney, who was bickering with his companions a few blocks away, and murmured to herself in a low voice—
"Origami, huh? What a ridiculously childish hobby."
That evening, luxury paper workshops across the empire erupted in celebration after receiving a massive order from the Duke of Embergreen's household.
*****
As time passed, the setting sun cast its last light upon the underworld before darkness slowly took over the streets.
"It's getting dark now."
Alfred, rubbing his aching lower back, frowned as he turned to Whitney with a word of caution.
"As obvious as it may sound, the underworld at night is several times more dangerous than it is during the day."
"Hmm."
"It would be wise to call it a day and return. You can always
come back another time."
"I'd love to stay out all night, but I suppose there's no helping it…"
Of course, Whitney never expected to find Bergen in just one day, but the thought of leaving still left him feeling regretful.
"Parsha, do you have any bright ideas?"
—Mmm… Ah! Yes!
His small hope led him to direct the question at Parsha, who was dozing off inside the crystal orb.
Hearing the voice of his master, Parsha quickly responded, full of enthusiasm.
—Master, what if you flipped your perspective?
Whitney's eyes narrowed slightly at the suggestion.
—Instead of you searching for that person, what if you made them come to you?
"...."
—Surely there's something that person would risk their life for?
Alfred, who had long since recognized the signs of Whitney's ominous thought process, tensed instinctively.
—For example, like the prince whose fiancée has been taken hostage…
"You fool! Do you know what you're saying?!"
As soon as Parsha uttered such blasphemous words, Alfred hastily cut the connection and tucked the crystal orb deep into his robes before anyone could overhear.
"Hahaha…"
At that moment, Whitney's signature chilling laughter echoed through the quiet streets of the underworld.
"Parsha is such a brilliant child."
"Young Master?"
"Why didn't I think of that sooner…?"
As Alfred widened his eyes in alarm, Whitney had already pulled out a notebook and was scribbling something down.
"Alfred, can you mass-produce and distribute these flyers—no, posters—throughout the underworld?"
Alfred took the note from Whitney, reading it aloud with a puzzled expression.
"'Before the broken lily wilts, decipher the code below and come alone…'"
Alfred had long since decided not to question Whitney's actions, but even so, this particular message was far too suspicious to ignore.
"…What exactly does 'the broken lily' refer to?"
After a long moment of contemplation, he finally asked the most critical question.
"Oh, it's the missing daughter of the person I'm searching for."
"What?"
"Her name is Lily."
Alfred was left speechless at Whitney's casual revelation.
"Well, since the code is something only he would recognize… he'll definitely come running, won't he?"
"Oh, my god."
Even for the former godfather of the underworld, Whitney's cunning smile was utterly terrifying.