The next morning.
I stepped out into the backyard to gather the laundry and was taken aback by the sight of the garden.
In just two days, the small garden of the Weatherwoods estate had begun to take on a surprisingly decent shape.
No contractors had come by since the first day, yet all the dead grass had been cleared away, and the ground was now covered with moist, soft soil.
‘I thought he was just taking on any job to get into this estate.’
Same with his cooking skills. Why is he so unnecessarily good at so many things? It only makes him more suspicious.
As I tried to recall that face of his that unsettled the heart, the message from last night about potatoes came to mind, souring my mood again. Just then, my eyes met Lu, who was passing by with a shovel in hand.
As if the timing was perfect, he gestured for me to come over.
“Come here, maid.”
I wanted to ignore him, but—
‘If I want to properly investigate what kind of person he is, I’ll need some level of interaction.’
I stopped gathering the laundry and walked toward him. Then, in a tone even I found blunt, I spoke.
“Daisy.”
Lu, who had been bent over near the front steps, turned to me with a puzzled look. Facing that dazzling face of his, I spoke again.
“My name.”
“…Ah.”
With that habitual gentle smile, Lu stepped in front of me.
“Very well, Maid Daisy. After three days, we’re finally exchanging proper names. I can only describe this as remarkable progress in our relationship.”
If everything someone says sounds like mockery, is that the speaker’s problem or the listener’s?
“I’ll entrust this flowerpot to you.”
Without thinking, I took the small dark-brown pot he held out. It was filled with rich, moist soil that looked high quality at a glance.
“Entrust?”
“Anything is fine, so try to make a flower bloom in it. But no transplanting. Start from seeds, not seedlings.”
“Me? Why?”
I asked in disbelief, but he answered as if it were obvious.
“Didn’t you say you were curious? About me.”
What does that have to do with flowers?
“As it happens, my identity is a very, very, eye-rollingly important secret. I don’t intend to reveal it for free to just anyone. In that sense, making a flower bloom is quite a modest price, wouldn’t you say?”
I frowned deeply and looked down at the pot in my arms.
‘Why a flower of all things?’
This isn’t some childish game.
Is he toying with me?
‘At this point?’
This flowerpot was the first plausible response Lu had given to my suspicion and distrust. Unlike the first day, he wasn’t ignoring me. This was his one and only answer, presented as a condition for hearing the truth.
Refusing just because it annoyed me might be foolish.
“If you don’t want to, then 500 gold.”
“…500 gold?”
“That’s the price for hearing the secret without blooming a flower.”
Is this scammer insane? Where am I supposed to get 500 gold? Does he think that kind of money grows on trees? I couldn’t earn that even if I worked as a maid for a hundred years!
I hugged the flowerpot tightly to my chest and answered.
“I’ll bloom it.”
“Good choice.”
“Keep your promise.”
Smiling warmly, Lu lightly tapped my head.
“Of course, Maid Daisy. I look forward to seeing what kind of flower you grow.”
What an infuriating guy.
I glared at his broad back, then set the pot down where it had been and returned to collecting the laundry.
For now, I decided to stop investigating Lu.
It wasn’t that I’d given up on uncovering his identity. I was simply taking a step back.
In the end, I concluded that the head maid was right. For now, observing him was the best course.
I had neither the people nor the funds to dig into his background, he wasn’t the type to talk easily, and he wasn’t someone I could overpower and force to speak.
‘Besides, it’s all just suspicion. He hasn’t actually done anything yet.’
Thinking about Lu any further would just waste my mental energy and time. For now, cooperating with the butler-assassin was enough.
I had gotten used to my duties as a maid, so it was time to focus on gathering information about Dian Ket’s relic.
Everything has its priorities.
“Have you gathered all the laundry, Daisy?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll take care of the rest, so go buy the ingredients. The list and money are in the kitchen.”
“Yes.”
As I left the estate, I checked the list. It was the same as before, except eggs had been added.
There was still no meat this time, but I didn’t mind much. If it was Lu, he would surely make a satisfying meal even without it.
The ability to cook.
That was Lu’s one and only undeniable strength.
—
Before entering the market, I stopped in a narrow alley where a frail old man sat crouched, selling dull-looking vegetables.
‘Hmm.’
The potatoes didn’t look to be in good condition, but I decided to buy them.
The old man’s pitiful appearance bothered me, and I figured that with a skilled cook, even poor ingredients would suffice.
“Seven potatoes.”
The dozing old man opened his eyes wide and looked up at me.
“Huh? Oh my, finally a customer.”
He probably couldn’t go home until he sold a certain number of potatoes.
“Thank you, miss. Come again.”
The frail old man bowed repeatedly in gratitude.
After paying, I walked toward the market, counting them.
‘One, two, three… eight.’
Eight, not seven. He must have miscounted.
I turned back to return one.
But in the meantime, the once-empty alley had been occupied by others.
An unpleasant sight.
“Well, well! Looks like grandma finally made some money!”
Three large men surrounded the old man.
The one in the center held out his hand.
“Hand it over.”
“P-please, just give me a month—”
“You’re over a week late on your Merchant Union fees. Did you think we wouldn’t collect just because you’re hiding here?”
“I told you, I’m just a small vendor, I won’t join—”
Suddenly, the man kicked the old man violently.
The frail body rolled across the ground without even a scream. Blood streamed from his torn forehead.
As if that wasn’t enough, the man stomped on his back.
“If you can’t pay, then stop selling or get out of our territory!”
He spat on him.
“That’s enough. We’ll come again tomorrow at the same time.”
The old man’s meager earnings disappeared into greedy hands.
I looked at the pathetic potatoes.
Not even twenty. I had taken eight, leaving about ten, and some had already sprouted.
This man wasn’t selling potatoes for wealth.
He was selling them to survive.
Just look at that frail body. If he couldn’t sell for even a day, he’d go hungry. Two days, he’d weaken. Three, he’d be at death’s door.
These men were killing him.
“Hey.”
They turned to me.
“What?”
I asked sincerely.
“Why did you crawl out of a trash can?”
The leader approached angrily.
“You crazy bitch—”
I nodded after examining his face.
Perfect timing.
I’ve been stressed lately.
I raised my hand and struck his face lightly.
“Ghk.”
He slammed into the wall and collapsed.
The second followed.
The third ran.
I chose not to chase him and instead searched their pockets.
“Oh.”
A bundle of cash.
I gave some to the old man.
“Don’t come tomorrow. Count it.”
“And treat your wound.”
Then I returned to the market.
—
That night, I entered the pub.
It wasn’t a place for people.
It was a place for trash.
So I cleaned it up.
After subduing them, I sat and spoke.
“I’ll ask again. Why aren’t you running a business?”
And by the end—
“I’ll kill you first before I die. Self-defense.”
Their faces turned pale.
Then the bartender spoke.
“Above us is <Buried Rat>.”
Ah.
So that’s how it is.
