Chapter 4
To that, Catherine had only one possible response.
"None."
Haha. The man let out another dry laugh. With not a single muscle twitching on his face, just his throat moving—it looked utterly eerie.
"No strange or frightening noises at night?"
"Nope."
"Unexplained shaking of the mansion or auditory hallucinations?"
"None."
"Nightmares?"
"Don't have any."
It wasn't like she was giving curt answers just to embarrass him. But really, there were none to report. No matter how bluntly and honestly she replied, the man didn't seem to trust a word of it.
Catherine pondered the meaning behind his questions as she lifted her teacup to her lips.
"The real estate agent did mention something similar..."
"And yet you still bought this place?"
"Yes. Nothing there seemed like a problem for me."
Suddenly, Catherine felt odd for dutifully answering these out-of-the-blue questions.
"Get the answers you wanted? If so, how about you head out now?"
But far from standing, the man leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, looking distinctly displeased.
"Hm."
"Hey."
He seemed lost in thought right in front of her, as if she weren't there. Bursting into someone else's home without permission, helping himself to tea, and treating the owner like furniture—this guy was utterly beyond common sense.
Catherine knew his type well. Telling him to leave wouldn't budge him an inch; best to wait until he got bored and went on his way.
She fetched the book she'd left on the kitchen counter and opened it. It was the Christopher Territory Guidebook, which she'd been skimming while waiting for dinner to finish cooking.
How much time had passed? When she idly glanced up from the book and looked at him, he was staring right back.
For such a towering build, he had surprisingly delicate features. Pristine silver hair without a trace of impurity, brilliant cobalt-blue eyes like a midsummer sea, and an elegant yet sharp arrangement of facial features. Some people in the world really were built like that. But with his mouth shut, his impression was quite—no, intensely—chilling. He exuded far more refined nobility than the high nobles she'd seen endlessly at banquets. His ungentlemanly speech clashed oddly with the atmosphere.
His eyes were strangely hard to meet for long. Catherine cautiously dropped her gaze back to the book.
As if he'd been waiting, the man spoke.
"Very well. For today... we'll leave it here."
What exactly had he been doing? All he'd asked was whether she planned to move and if the mansion felt off.
She didn't like that this intruder was already hinting at coming back.
Closing her book, Catherine shot back at him.
"Who said so? I let it slide today, but next time, I'm really calling the guards."
As if her words didn't matter, he slowly rose and rummaged in his pocket. His face was so striking she'd overlooked it before, but he was dressed quite formally. Unlike yesterday's vagrant look, today he wore a gray three-piece suit with his shirt buttoned to the top.
If only his behavior matched, he'd pass for high nobility. After digging through his jacket lining for a while, he pulled out a single bill.
He placed the crumpled note on the table and flashed Catherine a grin.
"For the tea."
Then he turned and vanished out the door.
"Huh."
Unbelievable! Were all city men like this? Did handsome guys in big places like Christopher just rely on their looks and act shamelessly?
Catherine walked over to where he'd sat and picked up the bill. Fine, let's see how much a city boy thought tea was worth.
She had to gape dumbly.
"...100 reeds?"
100 reeds. The "tea money" he'd left could hire six maids for a full month.
For now, Catherine tucked the bill carefully between her bookshelves. You couldn't just spend money given by strangers recklessly. Especially not when it was a small fortune instead of candy cash.
A day passed since then, then three, but Catherine still occasionally checked the kitchen and front gate.
Just in case he popped up out of nowhere again with more weird questions.
She'd thought it no big deal, but apparently, she was more bothered by his presence than expected.
Yet on the fourth day, he still didn't show—and rather than relief, it only made her more uneasy.
Why?
100 reeds. Was it because of that damn 100 reeds?
On the fifth day since the man had left his 100-reed "tea payment."
"...Huh?"
She was on her way back from buying stew ingredients for dinner when she spotted a crowd milling around the bulletin board in the town square.
"Did the emperor die or something?"
Catherine's eyes widened as she pressed close to the square's bulletin board. She scrutinized the front-page photo pinned there with wide eyes.
Familiar—too familiar. Unmistakably so.
If her eyes weren't lying, this "duke" portrait was...
That man with the stylish glasses...
100 reeds. No doubt about it. The very intruder who'd tossed 100 reeds at her as "tea money."
This was no joke—it was real!
"...No. The clown looks a bit different. The duke seems handsome enough, but the intruder was way better looking. Sharper eyes, and with his mouth shut, a much darker vibe..."
"Haha! That's a good one, miss. Anyone'd think you'd met His Grace in person."
Catherine whipped her head toward the sudden interruption from a middle-aged man. The elderly gentleman who'd caught her eye tipped his hat in greeting.
"Pleased to meet you, miss. Heard you're the new owner of that mansion up the hill. Looks like a young lady living alone—anything I can help with? Fixing up that huge place by yourself must be tough."
"Who are you?"
"Ah! Forgive my late introduction. Getting old, keeps forgetting... I'm Mel Perbache, chief of security for northern Christopher."
The hatless middle-aged man bowed slightly with a smile. She'd expected a burly, muscle-bound type for a security chief, but Sir Mel carried himself with near-noble etiquette.
Big cities really were different from the sticks. Catherine inwardly sighed in genuine admiration.
"Thank you for the kind offer. But I'm managing fine on my own."
"I hear the lights stay on late into the night there."
"Well, the building's so huge. Even after days of nonstop cleaning, I've barely done half."
After lunch, she'd tackle the third and fourth floors next. With barely any cash to her name, she was trying to salvage as much furniture as possible, which took extra time. Plus, no electricity yet, so moving after dark was tricky.
"Sir Mel, I don't know much about central affairs, but what was the imperial order the duke fulfilled?"
"Oh my. You don't know that famous tale? Blocking the evil dragon Garsalrof, of course!"
Evil dragon Garsalrof. The brutal beast that torched a southern kingdom and devoured its entire royal family. And this intruder had taken it down solo? As believable as a cat talking.
"Garsalrof? The one ruling the southern mountains?"
Sir Mel replied proudly, as if he were Duke Chezare himself.
"His Grace is the sole grand archmage who rivals His Imperial Majesty. No dragon, no matter how infamous, stands a chance. It's why Christopher's people sleep soundly!"
A mage so powerful even dragons feared him? Catherine pictured the intruder casually demonstrating light magic without a care.
If he's a mage... then that intruder was him. I almost made the great duke swab the floors?
Her face drained pale.
He'd left behind a glowing orb, then vanished without a trace, so she'd relaxed. Turns out, the clueless one was her.
Ah, damn it. Should've swallowed her temper and sent him off nicely.
Late regret hit her.
But he's been quiet for days, so maybe he forgot. A duke must be busy with bigger things.
Haha. Forcing a smile, Catherine dragged her heavy steps home.
Couldn't even finish cleaning—surely she wouldn't get chased out of Christopher too.
Stumbling back to the mansion, she prepared a late lunch with slumped shoulders. Maybe splurging on beef helped? Prepping the ingredients lifted her mood a bit.
Duke Chezare...
Maybe he had a secret twin.
Or...
The man was an admirer mimicking the duke's beauty with magic.
Either way, both felt fishy for "normal."
As Catherine pondered the man's true identity, she started cleaning the mansion. After sunset, she dragged her weary body to the barren garden.
The mansion's sole visitor, a stray cat, bounded over at the smell of canned food.
Nyaong.
"Sigh. When will I ever finish fixing this garden?"
100 reeds. With 100 reeds, she could hire pros to make it a real garden.
Catherine gazed down at the cat blissfully enjoying its meal, oblivious to her woes.
"Must be nice. No worries about money or a home..."
Then—
BOOM!
A massive explosion rocked the air, dust billowing from the sky. It happened so abruptly.
The startled cat's fur bristled as it fled beyond the mansion.
Catherine jumped up. And at the sight before her, she screamed silently.
Am I dreaming?
The right side of the mansion was spewing gray smoke, crumbling in ruins.
Where was it coming from? The voice sounded vicious even half-asleep.
Catherine's dazed gaze turned toward the dust-choked interior of the collapsed building.
There stood a colossal monster with a goat's head, chest puffed out in laughter. Its mere presence exuded ferocious menace.
And beside the grotesque beast was a man standing with eerie composure. In one hand, a glass sword gleaming in the sunset glow.
"Don't run with your tail between your legs, you bastard. I'll chew you up slowly, fiber by fiber, make you suffer!"
That was all the monster bellowed. As the goat-head charged, the man swung his sword. The powerful strike collapsed another section of the building interior.
Watching it all, Catherine cried out in horror.
"No! My house!"
It'd only been a week since she bought it! [