The Black Fairy's Greeting
Faust's face hardened at my question.
"Villain Union...? Is that what you mean?"
"Yes. Didn't you join hands with the Villain Union?"
According to my experience, Faust at this point in time does ally with the Villain Union. To be precise, he commissions them for personal reasons, so he might feel wronged... but in the end, that's still shaking hands with them, isn't it?
"Faust. Is my son's claim true?"
My father's voice sank low at my words, and the air around us seemed to chill. The head of the Calione family, who had recently clashed with the Villain Union—no one else could embody such justified fury.
And that was just the beginning.
"Isn't the Villain Union the ones who recently terrorized Seoul Hero Academy?"
"Dr. Faust, of all people, joined hands with them?"
Most of the people gathered here weren't saints, but each had their own pride. Some even had children or relatives attending Seoul Hero Academy.
Sensing the shifting mood, Faust realized things were going south. He waved his hands frantically.
"There seems to be a bit of a misunderstanding. I was planning to explain it slowly to everyone later... but since it's come to this, I suppose I'll have to introduce her now."
Clap, clap—
As he clapped briefly, one of the fairies flitting through the garden—the one I'd mistaken for a bird—flew over and perched on his shoulder.
"Already my turn? Time for my intro?"
"...This isn't exactly a festive mood right now."
"But it's a party, right?! Parties are supposed to be fun!"
Her tone and gestures were like a tomboyish girl. But unlike the other fairies floating in the air, radiating bright light, a faint black glow seeped from her body.
"Allow me to introduce her. The executive from the Villain Union that young Master Calione just mentioned... and the one whose hospitality I briefly enjoyed. She's the guild master of Midsummer, operating the guild of the same name. This is Peak."
"Hi everyone! I'm Peak, the black fairy! Mwah! Mwah!"
Indeed. That fairy blowing kisses to the crowd was one of the Villain Union's high-ranking executives—a named monster called the Fallen Fairy.
"...Midsummer, you say."
Father's aura softened slightly upon realizing it wasn't Plague. Her appearance and personality likely played a role in his reaction. Peak was an utterly alien existence.
"Ahh! Don Calione! You're not mad anymore, right? Right?!"
Relieved to see Father's expression ease a bit, she patted her chest and approached.
"I heard Plague messed with the Don's people recently? Our boss said to pass on that he's extremely sorry about it! I don't get all that complicated stuff... but yeah! I hate that jerk Plague too!"
She chattered excitedly right up to his face, then extended her tiny hand toward Father.
"So, let's not fight, okay? Don Calione!"
Perhaps grasping her personality from that short exchange, Father exhaled once to lighten the mood before carefully taking her hand.
"...We'll try."
"Yay! Awesome!"
Above all, Father accepting the handshake was likely due to Peak's background. The fairy group she led, Midsummer, brokered fairies for any job needing them. Their goal: protecting animals and nature. But unlike other fairies, she was willing to resort to any extreme for that purpose.
Recent exploits? Probably something like dosing poachers targeting protected species with frenzy powder, making them turn on each other.
Too ambiguous to call pure evil. But their frequent extralegal violence, sometimes toppling local administrations, had branded them villains.
And their fairy legion's overwhelming power on the front lines made her an executive in the Villain Union—no surprise there.
"Glad that went over well. I recently started developing a new drug and needed her help with that, plus some fairies to liven up the party."
Faust glanced my way as he spoke.
"Given recent events, the Villain Union is a sensitive topic. My failure to mention it sooner is my fault. I apologize here and now, Don Calione."
Father nodded curtly, accepting the bow.
Of course he should apologize. If we hadn't brought it up first, he'd have played dumb to the end, no doubt.
But the apology was given, my goal achieved, so I decided to end the exposé there. Those around us now had a sense of my position in the Calione family and my capabilities.
By casually revealing info no one else knew—as if it were obvious—I'd demonstrated my intelligence network and Father's favoritism toward me.
In other words: 'Mess with me, and prepare for a face-to-face with the Caliones.'
Sure enough, people who'd ignored me earlier were now taking notice. Satisfactory results.
"Alright! Looks like everyone's here now—can we start the party? I'm starving; haven't eaten yet!"
Peak clapped to lift the mood.
"First, music!"
She pointed at the band, which had paused; the music resumed as if by magic.
"Then, dancing!"
She pointed skyward, and the fairies around her giggled as they danced through the air.
"Finally, booze!"
Pop—!
With a burst of widespread aura, stacked champagne bottles floated toward those with empty hands.
Transcendent mana control.
"Happy Walpurgis!"
The real party was finally underway.
* * *
After greetings with Faust, I headed to my assigned seat amid the fairies. Countless gazes followed.
Father sighed, looking at me.
"Looks like this old man will be quite busy."
Others were already eyeing him for talks and greetings.
"Some might be interested in you too... but sticking with me would just annoy you more. Why not wander and enjoy?"
"I'll do that."
Perfect timing—I'd been pondering an exit. This made circulating easier.
Powerhouses whose mere movements shook regions. Missing a chance to meet them by staying put would be a loss.
"Oh, and don't drink cocktails carelessly."
"...Wine's fine?"
"Wine's fine."
"Got it."
With permission for wine but not champagne, I could finally slip away. Sometimes his overprotectiveness felt excessive.
The forest interior, now in full party mode, looked straight out of a fairy tale. Fairies and witches flitting about, elegant sips from glasses amid conversations.
Probably what most dreamed of as kids.
"Let's see how many familiar faces showed up."
As a player, getting invited to Walpurgis Night early on was near-impossible without insane antics.
World-class heavyweights at a brand-new event? 'Luck's essential; skill alone won't cut it.'
Or pull something truly 'mad.' Not my case—pure luck and skill here.
Savoring the data fill, I scanned the crowd.
Maru of One Man One Evil? Still around this era. That's the North American Indian chief, right? What a lineup.'
Heaven for me. As I enjoyed the scene—
"Hm?"
I spotted a familiar face.
Paler skin than most. Jet-black hair slicked back, red eyes. A man in a frilly jabot like from a medieval drama.
"Dwight Rodmang."
The Rodmang family head wet his lips with red wine from his glass, staring intently somewhere.
Him at Walpurgis Night? Not odd. His Rodmang family had long been infamous.
A fixture of the event.
But what was he staring at so piercingly? Something offending him—or intriguing.
I followed his gaze.
"Ha."
Of all things, our table?
His eyes fixed on Father's table, surrounded by greeters. Not friendly—hostile, even.
Daring to glare like that?
...Decision made.
I strolled toward his table. Sensing my approach, his gaze finally shifted to me.
"Count Dwight Rodmang, correct?"
I started with a friendly smile.
"Indeed... I never imagined the crown prince of Calione would know me."
He'd seen the Faust incident, apparently. He turned fully, smirking.
But wariness lingered in his eyes. Needed a softer approach.
"I've always loved stories about you, Count. Like... single-handedly stopping that rampaging dungeon in northern Romania's forest. The nameless woods afterward called the Red Forest—that tale stirs any man's blood."
"Ho?"
Intrigued by my enthusiasm, he faced me fully. His interest hooked.
"Few in Romania even know that story. You really know a lot about me."
"I've had my share of wild days. Your tale felt epic back then."
Blood, slaughter. Nobles and dark kin. Vampires screamed mid-teen appeal—player catnip.
I knew plenty about him.
Now, the real play. With goodwill shown, he'd chat. Steer naturally, pry something useful—or humiliate him just right.
"Father. As you said, talking to Gary Franche... Huh?"
"Ah."
Shit. X'd.