BVSSA 12

The information I heard last night while drinking with a real estate agent I know was rather interesting. Apparently, someone contacted every real estate agency in the area and asked, out of the blue, whether any woman had recently been looking for a house.”

“And?”

“Well, the description that person gave matched our new secretary perfectly! Wheat-colored hair, teal eyes, and even glasses!”

Aden’s brows drew together slightly.

“The agent I was drinking with thought the question was suspicious, so he simply denied knowing anyone like that. But… could it be that our new secretary is being pursued by someone?”

Luther leaned closer, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Could it be…?”

He seemed to have reached a rather alarming conclusion.

“Perhaps she’s working as a spy because someone is blackmailing her…!”

As a matter of fact, Luther had taken quite a liking to Ilian.

She was friendly, clever, and, on top of that, she had the guts and audacity to knock Jeremy out in one blow and tie him up like a parcel!

La Mar needed employees like her.

The boss already has more than enough work on his hands. I’ve always thought he needed a genuinely competent secretary to help him out—not someone like me, who’s only a secretary in name, or that incompetent swindler Jeremy.

In Luther’s opinion, Ilian was the perfect candidate.

Even if she was a spy, so what? They could simply bring her over to their side!

It was exactly the sort of thought one would expect from Luther, a man who could persuade most people simply by cracking his knuckles.

“What do you think?”

“I think you’re jumping to conclusions. Especially the part where you interpreted her shabby house as an attempt to gain sympathy rather than considering that she might have personal circumstances.”

Luther’s enthusiasm deflated instantly.

“Still, it seems to have worked. Judging by how quickly you’ve come to Miss Gresia’s defense, Luther, her abilities must be quite impressive.”

“No, that’s not what I meant…”

Somehow, things seemed to be getting worse in a rather smooth and orderly fashion.

Luther was wondering whether he should have kept his mouth shut when—

“However…”

Aden tilted his head slightly.

“I find it difficult to dismiss the report that someone was searching for Miss Gresia using her physical description.”

“Exactly! She’s definitely being pursued by someone—”

“No. It’s too conspicuous. You’ve watched how Lennox conducts his investigations, haven’t you, Luther? What kind of pursuer would search for someone so openly?”

“…”

“If that’s the case, there are two possibilities. Either it’s a signal intended to mislead us, or…”

Aden continued.

“It’s someone unfamiliar with conventional methods of tracking people—in other words, an amateur who is desperately searching for Miss Gresia for some very personal reason.”

He tapped the table lightly as he considered the possibilities, then gave a small nod.

“If so, whoever this person is, they must know Miss Gresia quite well, whether for better or worse. Which means they’re an appropriate person to approach for information.”

“What do you mean?”

“Find out how the inquiry was made. But don’t make contact recklessly. Understood?”

“Ah, yes! Understood!”

Luther left, and the door closed behind him.

Aden stared at the closed door for a moment before shifting his gaze to the documents on one side of his desk.

One of the papers contained the transfer record for the three million gold congratulatory bonus he had given Ilian Gresia yesterday.

The tag attached to the identification code had been activated.

And, rather coincidentally, the money had gone to…

“A loan shark.”

It had been transferred to a loan shark operating along the southern border.

Of course, the fact that Ilian had sent money to a loan shark wasn’t particularly important to Aden.

The real question was what kind of loan shark he was dealing with.

“He used to launder money for Crimson. And for the southern nobles, too.”

As luck would have it, the man had once made a side business out of laundering the secret funds of Crimson and the southern nobility.

After one of his noble clients had become dissatisfied and reported him, he’d been more or less forced into retirement. Since then, he’d apparently been lending money to local residents instead.

“Is it a signal that she’s successfully infiltrated them? Or a tribute payment…? Or perhaps Miss Gresia has personal debts?”

Aden rolled the word blackmail around in his mind, recalling what Luther had said, and raised one eyebrow.

He still considered Luther’s theory to be little more than baseless speculation.

If Ilian had heard such an accusation, she would undoubtedly have protested furiously. Unfortunately, Aden didn’t believe in coincidences.

At the same time, he wasn’t the sort of man to overlook a suspicious piece of information and simply move on.

So, intending to get to the bottom of the matter, he summoned Ilian.

“We are not an ordinary trading company.”

And dropped a bombshell right in front of her.

“Do you have any questions?”

It was a statement that would have been enough to throw anyone off balance, whether they were a spy or an ordinary employee.

If she was the former, she would be horrified to realize that the carefully prepared infiltration scenario she’d worked so hard to construct had just gone up in flames.

If she was the latter, she would be shocked to discover that she’d been tricked into accepting a job under false pretenses.

As expected, the Ilian standing before him froze for a moment, seemingly startled.

She drew in a breath, adjusted her glasses, and clenched her fists.

“Yes, Director. Since you’ve kindly given me an opportunity to ask questions, there’s something I’d like to know.”

However…

“I’ve never handled such specialized assets before. Under which accounting category should I record them? And what should I do if they are damaged—or, rather, if something unfortunate happens to them during transportation?”

“…”

“Ordinary cargo insurance wouldn’t cover something like that, would it? Also, I imagine it would be difficult to issue receipts for such confidential transactions. How do you intend to handle a tax audit later? You’ll probably have to pay the workers confidentiality fees as well. Under which accounting category should those expenses be recorded…?”

“Miss Gresia.”

“Just a moment, please. I still have more questions.”

“…”

“If you were speaking metaphorically, does that mean La Mar also functions as an information guild? Is there a separate business entity for that? In that case, would I be assigned to the information guild on a temporary dispatch basis whenever I need to handle its affairs?”

“Miss Gresia?”

The bewilderment that had briefly crossed Ilian’s face disappeared almost immediately.

It was Aden, not her, who found himself speechless in the face of a barrage of questions that had gone far beyond anything he had anticipated.

“Is that what you’re curious about?”

“Yes.”

Aden had barely managed to ask, yet Ilian answered without the slightest hesitation.

Her eyes sparkled as though she’d been waiting for this very moment. She shrugged.

“I had so many questions during the interview, and yesterday as well, but you never really gave me an opportunity to ask them. So I thought I might as well ask everything now.”

Ilian smiled brightly before adding, “Oh, and for the record, I have no objections to taking on additional responsibilities. After all, none of them technically violate imperial law.”

She had casually dismissed the true nature of La Mar, which Aden had revealed as a warning—or perhaps a threat—as nothing more than additional responsibilities.

And then she continued in the same cheerful tone.

“Just as there’s no grave without a reason, there’s no money without a reason, either. The moment I saw the salary of six million gold listed in my employment contract, I assumed it must include a confidentiality fee. There’s always a reason behind a high salary, after all.”

Aden tried to determine whether Ilian was simply making light of the situation to escape an awkward conversation or whether she was genuinely obsessed with money and work.

“Ah! I almost forgot to mention something. I’ll do my very best from now on. I look forward to working with you, Director.”

But he couldn’t quite figure it out.

It was an exceptionally rare occurrence for Aden.

“……There is a separate manual covering the matters you just asked about. You can request a copy from Luther.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Then you may leave. Spend today familiarizing yourself with the manual. We’ll begin your actual duties tomorrow.”

“Understood.”

I bowed politely and turned to leave. But the moment the door closed behind me, my legs nearly gave way.

Why were my ominous premonitions never wrong?

‘Don’t tell me Aden suspects that I’m a spy or something…? Surely not, right?’

Oh, he absolutely does…

‘That man… He’s suspicious of me…!’