TVH 53

Chapter 53

“S-scam? I’m just an honest civil servant.”

The man smiled shamelessly.

I closed the distance in one stride and glared up at him.

“Don’t play dumb. Did you really think changing your hair color and taking off your glasses would fool me? You’re the real estate agent who tricked me into signing a contract to manage this mansion—and then disappeared.”

“Oh my, what a fun fantasy setting. Are you perhaps a writer?”

I glared even more sharply, but his relaxed expression didn’t budge.

“I was in a very difficult situation with no one to live here and manage the mansion, so I was just so relieved when Miss Mia Fortuna showed up.”

“Ugh… you tricked me and still have the nerve to act innocent…!”

My blood pressure skyrocketed, and I grabbed the back of my neck. He, however, simply reached out a hand for a handshake.

“My name is Danilov.”

“Listen, Mr. Danil—”

“Don’t shorten someone’s name without permission, Miss Mi.”

Hands on my hips, I glared at him icily.

“Why did you lie to me?”

“I have never lied to you. If you were scammed, you should report it to the police.”

“Great. Then you can come with me and get investigated together.”

I yanked his hand, and unexpectedly he let himself be pulled closer and bent down to look at me. His shameless eyes were unchanged.

“And what makes you think I’m that person?”

“The voice is the same. And—”

I poked his eyebrow with my finger.

“Here. You have that twitch. It happens all the time.”

“You’ve observed me very closely.”

Danilov chuckled.

“Even if what you say is true, it doesn’t change the contract. You signed it yourself, and there’s nothing illegal about it. You should’ve read it carefully.”

He had a point. The main clauses were written in tiny ant-sized print disguised as a decorative pattern—but it was technically written there, so I couldn’t report him for ‘making a trash contract.’

I grimaced and immediately switched negotiation tactics.

“And that 4 million gibe support fund isn’t even close to enough.”

“You’re the owner of this mansion, are you not?”

“A mansion I can’t sell! It’s huge, and the property taxes and utility bills are insane. After paying the servants, I’ve got nothing left!”

“Nothing left, hmm?”

Drawling lazily, he tapped my nose with a single finger and looked fascinated.

“But why is your nose so small? It’s barely there.”

“What are you even talking about? Don’t change the subject.”

“In any case, you only took on the role of ‘mansion manager.’ All antiques and valuables inside the manor are entirely your property.”

…Really?

I widened my eyes.

“Are you saying I can sell the items?”

“You can’t sell the mansion, but everything else is yours to do as you like. Sell valuables, open the estate to tourists, turn it into a commercial facility. I noticed you’ve renovated the garden beautifully.”

I had thought of it. But would Mathias allow it?

While I hesitated, Danilov handed me a thick envelope from the sofa.

“This month’s support fund. Use it wisely.”

I reluctantly accepted the money, though I didn’t drop my suspicious stare.

“Who are you really? You’re no civil servant.”

“Oh, I am. Anyway, I’ve said everything I needed to, so I’ll be going.”

Trying to run away?!

I grabbed his arm as he turned.

“Wait. Reveal your identity properly!”

“My name is Danilov. I live on Burston 7th Street. Favorite food: Grade 1 beef stew and milk tea brewed from the highest-class tea leaves. Hobby: horseback riding. Pleased to meet you.”

“That’s not what I meant! I didn’t ask for a transfer-student self-introduction!”

I yanked harder, forcing his body to turn back toward me.

“Let me go politely. I’m very busy.”

“You know the real owner of this mansion, don’t you?”

When I first met Mathias, he had looked at me like trash and said, ‘How did you end up picking this kind of human?’ There was no doubt—these two were connected.

Danilov gave a knowing nod.

“I do.”

“Then why did you shove an ordinary civilian like me into this place?”

He grinned and raised the arm I was gripping tightly.

“You’re not ordinary anymore. If I were a normal human, my arm would be broken at minimum.”

“…What nonsense—”

“Did you not know you had abnormal strength? Rumor at the market says you crushed a thug’s spine.”

Not a rumor—apparently I actually did that?! So I gained physical strength too, not just magic resistance?

“I didn’t know. Is this some power I get as a mansion manager?”

Danilov lifted a lock of my brown hair and said,

“Let’s say yes. There are conditions and qualifications to become the mansion’s manager. Brown hair and green eyes, for starters.”

True—Rilke, the first manager, also had brown hair and green eyes. But—

“There are brown-haired, green-eyed people everywhere.”

So why me?! Did they just pick a random walk-in? Was I just unlucky?!

Danilov’s gaze suddenly dropped to my neck, to the necklace resting there. His eyes took on a strange, nostalgic expression.

“You really are just like her. Small nose, too. His taste never changes.”

His voice slipped into a sentimental tone, as if recalling someone long gone.

“Who? What taste?”

“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you everything. Goodbye.”

I didn’t even get the chance to beg—he vanished.

An ability-user? Or maybe he wasn’t human, like Mathias and Elluard?

“Mr. Mathias Park, are you here?”

I flopped onto the couch and called out, but nothing answered.

Of course—he never comes just because I call him.

“Damn you, Mathias Park.”

The moment I muttered it, a cold voice replied:

“What did you just say? Have you finally lost your fear?”

So profanity was a summoning spell. I turned to face the furious Mathias and exhaled.

“That man—who is he? You made some secret deal with him, didn’t you? Giving me money in return for dragging a slave like me here?”

“There was no deal. And he’s… something like a civil servant.”

“Ugh… scammers, the both of you…”

Definitely in cahoots. They shoved me into this mansion, kept dodging questions, spouted cryptic nonsense… Was there something dangerous they didn’t want me to know?

Fine. First things first.

“Mathias. Can I sell things inside the mansion? I need money.”

“Do what you want. Except anything in the underground chapel.”

“Why? Didn’t everything legally transfer to me?”

“Because those are my treasures. If you secretly sell them, I’ll burn your clothes. All of them.”

W–what?! Am I supposed to live naked?!

Seeing my horrified expression, he added:

“Do whatever you want with the rest. Sell or barter.”

…Well, that was something. If I searched every corner, maybe there’d be legendary treasure somewhere.

“Also… is your type small-nosed women with brown hair and green eyes? Danilov said so.”

Mathias ran a hand through his sleek black hair and glared. His cold gaze made me step back without thinking.

“W-why are you looking at me like that?”

“You said ‘damn Mathias.’ I should punish you.”

“Huh—?!”

“Consider it a lesson in keeping your mouth shut.”

He flicked his fingers—and sealed my mouth shut before vanishing. I couldn’t speak for an hour.

Damn Mathias.

When the seal finally dissolved, I wanted to curse out loud again, but I held it in. I was not getting muted twice.

Late night, Mathias’s room

“It’s been a while. Doing well? People here call you Mathias, don’t they?”

At the unexpected voice, Mathias—wearing a nightgown and drinking wine—turned his head.

“If you’re done with your business, go home. Why come here?”

The brown-haired man at the end of Mathias’s gaze smiled—Danilov.

He threw himself onto the sofa across from Mathias and crossed his legs.

“I was curious how your exile life is going. Dropped in on official business.”

“It’s not bad.”

Mathias poured wine into his empty glass—Danilov snatched it away.

“You broke the rules and now you’re paying for your crimes, yet you say life is good? That’s a problem.”