The Crows Are Watching
***
Had I overestimated Killian Knox?
The moment I saw the name Dupont Clancher in the ledger, suspicion was inevitable.
The darkest secret of the Knox family.
When I’d first heard those words, several possibilities had immediately come to mind—things I’d learned over years of clashing with the Knox intelligence division.
But if I was being honest, every single one of them felt trivial.
They were far too small in scale for Killian Knox to bother hiding behind the word “most.”
That was why I had shoved them into a corner of my mind and gone looking for new information…
‘Illegal work does tend to burn through money, though.’
The amount Dupont Clancher had spent over a full eight years was truly staggering.
Split into eight pieces, each portion rivaled an entire year’s budget for a respectable noble house. Lump it all together, and you could buy a small territory on the empire’s outskirts.
“Wait a second.”
Could that really be it?
They’d supposedly shut down all their illegal businesses and divided the profits among trustworthy families… but what if they had actually funneled everything into some remote territory far away?
Did that mean I needed to investigate outside the castle walls instead of inside?
But I was bound to the action squad. I couldn’t freely leave the fortress.
There was no way Killian Knox didn’t know that.
“Unless… he did it on purpose?”
So that failing the mission he’d assigned me would be inevitable if I couldn’t leave?
For a bastard like Killian Knox, that would be child’s play.
I ground my teeth harder, the phantom ache in my jaw—where he had once gripped it—flaring up again.
“What was that?”
A hand clapped me on the shoulder, yanking me out of the imaginary scenario I’d been spinning.
I turned to find Hartman’s rugged face staring back at me.
Oh, right. I was on night duty.
“Yes?”
“You just said something, didn’t you?”
“Did I?”
“You were definitely muttering to yourself.”
The way he frowned suggested Hartman’s mood was already sour.
Normally, if a junior showed up drunk for a shift, he’d just smack the back of their head and call it a day.
‘Must have lost big at the gambling tables again.’
Hartman was always laughing and joking, earning the reputation of being the most easygoing senior among the higher ranks. His one fatal flaw was his pathetic gambling skills.
It was so bad that the juniors had nicknamed him “Sucker-man.”
If there was no mark at the table, he became the mark himself.
He lost money every time and never seemed to learn.
I quickly straightened up, snapped to attention, and bowed my head.
“I must have been thinking out loud. My apologies.”
“What a strange guy. Who zones out during duty? You’re completely out of it.”
As Hartman started winding up for a proper scolding, Jake, who had noticed the situation, hurried over from a distance.
“Aigoo, this rookie called in sick yesterday, sir. He’s still a bit out of it, so please be understanding with your generous heart.”
“You were sick? Where?”
His eyes scanned me up and down, clearly thinking, You look fine now.
“It was… stomach trouble…”
“Oh, don’t even get me started! He was pouring from both ends all night long!”
Jake jumped in with his usual exaggerated flair.
“They say stomach bugs are going around the castle lately! You’d better be careful too, senior!”
“What? Going around? You idiot, you should’ve said something sooner!”
Hartman grumbled and rubbed the hand he’d touched my shoulder with, as if it were contaminated.
“Hey, bring some water and soap!”
He barked the order at a nearby loitering squad member, then practically growled at me.
“You are not to set foot inside the guard post for the rest of this week, got it?”
“Yes, understood. I’m sorry, senior.”
As Hartman stormed off to wash his hands, I mentally hurled a barrage of enthusiastic fist-potatoes at his back.
A few days ago he’d called me a little hero.
What kind of hero’s effect wears off in three days?
“Hey, rookie. Didn’t you hear that Hartman got completely cleaned out at the tables yesterday? You know how nasty he gets when he loses money—why’d you poke the bear?”
“I was on sick leave yesterday.”
“Oh, right. You were. Anyway, just steer clear of Hartman for the next week, kid.”
“Yes, yes.”
If I’m still alive by then, sure.
With my death date already decided, a gambling-addict senior was the least of my worries.
I turned to Jake, along with the chain-smoking senior, the buzz-cut senior, and the others gathered around the bonfire.
“I’ve been banned from the post, so I’ll stay out here. You all should head inside and rest somewhere warm.”
But the seniors shook their heads.
“Nah. It’s actually more comfortable out here…”
“Avoiding Sucker-man when he’s lost money is the smart move.”
They had a point. I nodded vaguely and plopped down on a log by the fire.
“Hey, rookie. When are you treating us?”
“Why would I?”
“You got that bonus, didn’t you?”
“Ah.”
I’d been running around so much my feet nearly caught fire that I’d completely forgotten.
My bonus.
“I haven’t heard anything yet.”
“Really? That’s weird. Knox may be many things, but he’s always precise about money. Why the delay?”
“Must be an especially fat bonus.”
Hubert, the heavy smoker, lit a new cigarette and answered Jake’s question for me.
“If it’s taking this long, it’s probably no small amount. You sure you’re not just trying to keep it all to yourself, maknae?”
“No way. I’ll treat everyone at Uncle Yannick’s place.”
“What? Peter’s is way better!”
“Looks like the rookie’s taste is as expensive as mine!”
When the buzz-cut—Bono—chimed in with a sly remark, the debate over “Where is the best restaurant in Knox Castle?” immediately caught fire.
Here we go again.
“I’ll just treat at Aunt Helen’s, so can we drop—”
Rustle.
Something brushed against the leaves.
It was a tiny sound, but the guard post fell silent in an instant.
“Just now…”
“Shh.”
Hubert silenced Bono, who had started to speak, and stared straight ahead.
Toward the dense forest of tall trees.
Rustle.
The same sound tickled our ears again.
‘Above us. In the tree.’
The source was a branch near the bonfire.
But it definitely wasn’t the ordinary noise of leaves stirring in the wind.
Something had moved behind that curtain of foliage.
‘I didn’t notice until it got this close?’
Tension sent my body temperature spiking.
Out of long-trained habit, my heart rate climbed and my body slipped into combat readiness.
Then I felt a finger poke my back.
When I turned, Jake was silently jerking his chin toward the tree where the sound had come from.
‘You want me to check?’
I glanced at Hubert—the highest-ranking senior here—hoping he would step up, but all I got was an impatient look that said, What are you waiting for?
‘Traitors.’
Aren’t seniors supposed to take the lead in times like this?!
Cursing their double standards, I quietly walked toward the tree.
‘Actually… this is for the best.’
Whatever it was, it had approached without me noticing. Even the most senior members here, who had long since abandoned combat training, would only throw their lives away if they charged in.
It was better that I handle it.
Step. Step.
I didn’t bother masking my footsteps as I approached the tree.
The enemy had already taken the high ground and was probably watching me come.
After a few steps, I reached optimal range and wrapped my fingers around the hilt of the sword at my waist.
It was little more than an ornament I carried everywhere, a blade I hadn’t drawn once since being assigned to the action squad.
Hoo.
I exhaled slowly and tensed my legs, preparing to leap onto the branch—
Flap flap flap!
Something far too small to be an enemy burst through the leaves and shot upward.
“A… crow?”
I staggered in surprise, then steadied myself and looked again. Sure enough, a pitch-black crow was already flying off into the distance.
“Bwahahahaha!”
“Oh man, my stomach!”
“Did you see that? The way the rookie grabbed his sword?!”
The three seniors were rolling on the ground, howling with laughter.
These bastards are unbelievable!