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chapter 39
Tap. Tap-tap.
From beyond the mansion came the sound of lively footsteps.
A girl with hair as dark as night ran toward me, carefully holding a map in both hands.
“Good day, Ariel!”
“Long time no see!”
Her airy blue dress fluttered as she greeted the mansion staff.
Ah.
Click.
Tap.
“Safe.”
Perfect.
I entered the room and closed the door behind me.
At that moment, it felt as if the surroundings were spinning wildly.
Huh…? Huh?
The map in my hands fluttered and fell to the floor.
Oh, no.
Why does my human form have to fail at such an important moment?
I looked at my hands again.
“…Why now of all times?”
Where my hands had been were now cat paws.
I was dumbfounded by the sudden lapse in my human form.
Still, I only need to endure a few more days.
After entering human form, there’s a week—or this week—when I transform between human and animal without reason. People call this the “human adaptation period.”
It sounds fancy, but really it’s just completely random.
The last few days of this human adaptation period are irritating, flipping me between human and cat at will.
I wanted to do this while writing on the map…
Well, I can just memorize it anyway. Thinking about it, it wasn’t a big deal.
Using my cat paws, I placed chess pieces onto the map beside me.
The posture looked surprisingly professional.
North, South, West, East.
The center.
And the sea.
The original novel spent absurdly long passages describing backgrounds, from multiple characters’ perspectives.
Where things were located. Even unnecessary past events.
Back then, it seemed utterly pointless.
Lucky I read it carefully.
Now, that information was actually useful.
Who knew I’d end up thanking that boring novel…
In the original story, the plot centered on the continent, excluding the sea.
But the Etians of the sea couldn’t be ignored. Even if they never set foot on land, their influence on the continent was undeniable.
Of course, this didn’t mean that baseless rumors, like whether the head of Etians was male or female, were reliable.
No one would care about someone’s gender without influence.
I want to meet the head of Etians someday. Their gem crafting, especially the blue gems, is said to be incredible.
Even if they don’t stay at the Cadellion Mansion later, having a connection could be a useful ally.
Meeting them would be difficult, though.
I moved a chess piece to the east.
East.
Land of wolves.
Dense forests, mystical places.
The protagonist’s ally comes from here—a beastman who controls bluebirds.
She raised an information network comparable to Winnicta, supporting the protagonist single-handedly.
I need to get this before the protagonist does.
Quickly and accurately, my paw moved the chess piece.
Center.
A place bustling with beastmen, horse-drawn carts, and people.
The center is the city of merchants.
Perhaps because no single ruler governs it, the volume of trade is unmatched.
Major trade companies always have a branch here.
Because it’s crowded, information flows rapidly; the network that helped the protagonist in the past operated here.
Information Network <Winnicta>.
Almost all the continent’s intelligence is in their hands.
I picked up a nearby chess piece with my paw—the black queen took the center.
But even in the original, no significant info appeared.
In the novel, he only helped as much as he was paid, and no details about Winnicta’s master—name or face—were given.
I watched the black and white queens standing in the center.
And the land of opportunity.
The center is full of opportunities; many beastmen pursue dreams and business, starting new ventures.
I glanced at the gems I had collected.
Not just any gems, but the most expensive ones crafted by artisans, gifts from Ian.
This should be enough to do whatever I need.
Enough money to, exaggerating slightly, buy an entire island.
I felt a pang of guilt imagining selling the gems he gave me.
Maybe I should just earn more and buy even better ones…
I rationalized it.
Young and rich. One of life’s priorities.
Happiness isn’t always about money, but money is important.
If one must be sad, it’s better to be sad in a Lamborghini than on the streets.
Better to cry over steak than moldy bread.
Money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy the opportunity for it.
Sensing the human form about to return, I slipped into the dress lying on the floor.
It was time to prepare, step by step.
To live without fear of being abandoned.
Ian, wearing round silver-rimmed glasses, mechanically scribbled his signature as usual.
His mind was occupied with other thoughts.
Excited, indeed.
Ariel, introduced as a distant cousin and disciple of Louise, had been roaming the mansion freely, relieving all her past grievances.
And in the meantime, she didn’t visit me.
Ariel had only been exploring locations while going to the library.
Truly.
She did stop by with a picnic bag, but that was only to borrow books from the library. Ian’s office was on the opposite side, so she didn’t pass by.
Where she went, the mansion staff’s expressions immediately softened.
How useful is a staff with no backbone?
Ian, displeased that she hadn’t come to see him, blamed others for it.
“It’s hard to monopolize the affection of someone popular, Ian.”
Allen looked at him sympathetically.
“But the brave seize what they want.”
Ian tapped his documents.
“Be strong.”
Just as Ian was about to poke a pen into Allen’s mouth,
Knock. Knock.
A perfect knock echoed in the small room.
“Come in.”
A beastman entered with precise footsteps.
A familiar face.
“Marie Angelus of Aint has returned.”
Marie was back.
Ian took his eyes off the documents and looked at her professionally.
“Report.”
She spoke without hesitation.
“The bodies of the involved parties were found horribly mutilated at the borders, impossible to recognize. It seems as though someone intended for us to see it, as if anticipating our investigation.”
“Also, no unusual events were observed in any direction—north, south, east, or west.”
She paused.
“…It almost seemed too peaceful, oddly so.”
“From a glance, it might have seemed like the ruling families of both regions had changed without notice.”
After reporting, she picked up a bag about the size of a travel bag that she had set down.
“Oh, and I prepared a gift as well.”
She handed the bag to him.
“Apologies for being late because of this.”
Click.
Ian opened the bag.
Inside was a head.
A real beastman’s head.
He looked at the severed head dispassionately.
“A rat, I see.”
“An informant, perhaps.”
“Someone in Etians close to the head’s office was the spy.”
“Unfortunately, we failed to capture them alive. They died from poison before we could speak to them.”
Only forces like <Winnicta> or regional heads could carry out such acts.
“That concludes the report.”
Was it really necessary to plant a spy where sharks swarm?
The situation amused him.
He curled one side of his lips and quickly wrote a letter on stationery.
To the Sea Ruler, Head of Etians,
Hope you are well.
Regarding marine trade rights, creating a passage to the north and sea would be convenient.
…
Finally, it seems you haven’t dealt with pests yet; there are some bugs.
Enclosed are a bug’s head and a bouquet of golden orchids as a gift.
May it be of use.
He neatly folded the letter.
I wonder how the Shark Head will react to this.
He twisted his lips in amusement.
He closed the bag and handed it with the letter to Allen.
“Leave it there.”
Marie, who had been standing quietly, spoke.
“By the way, how has Ariel been?”
“She bows, eats hair, practices high jumps diligently…”
Ian rested his chin on his hand, counting off details with his fingers.
The description sounded absurd.
What on earth did he make Ariel do to get her bowing…
“She even sends her regards to you.”
Allen grinned.
She even sends regards?
Marie’s gaze toward Ian turned strange—like a parent witnessing child abuse.
Click. Tap. Click.
Then, lively knocking echoed again as the office door opened.
Ariel entered boldly, speaking with authority.
“Tiger, I have something to say…”
