I checked my work tablet in the morning and saw a message from my supervisor. Sienna Johns was a petite woman with a dull-looking face and a cunning mind. Whenever I visited her office, I felt like an insect trapped in her spiderweb. Thus, I braced myself when I opened her email with the subject: "Loarnant Hills Province." The body of the message was one sentence: "Continue clearing your backlog in the south."

I filtered my cases and highlighted the ones in Loarnant Hills. Of the three remaining complaints, I picked the Pitchfork Estates for my first visit. Although the site was furthest from the train station, this case file was four weeks old. I hopped on the steam rail, ignored curious glances at my mirror badge, and dozed off until my magi tablet vibrated at the Loarnant Hills stop. Unfortunately, casting spells drained me mentally, and even recharging my mana pool didn't help reduce my mental exhaustion.

Although my employer provided unlimited leave with supervisor approval, I declined to use this benefit because of my backlog of cases; I didn't want to learn a person died while I hit the beach or hung out at the bar because my guilty conscience wouldn't take it well. Working as a mirror checker was a thankless job, and I pretended to be a superhero saving the world--by capturing one cursed mirror at a time.

Eliza Bensley predictably joined my carriage again, and the noble girl sat beside me. The other passengers saw my mirror badge; they chose to back out of the cabin and avoid riding with me. However, the bypassers looked weirdly at the girl beside me, wondering if she was a mirror checker groupie. Yup, that was a thing among the younger generation, and I've encountered these kids occasionally during my fieldwork. My fans typically split into two groups: the curious and the hardcore. The former knew very little about us and liked to ask questions to dispel myths and gossip. The latter were unhappy with their lives; we became their fantasy fulfillment.

I inhaled the sweet fragrance from Eliza's body, which helped me relax. Before I knew it, my magi tablet's alarm awoke me because I arrived at the Pitchfork Estates.

I checked the time and noted the carriage ride took over two hours, and a minimap showed my location was roughly twenty miles to the west. I disembarked and helped Eliza alight the cabin. She thanked me for my courtesy before we turned to examine the property. The Pitchfork Estates was originally a winegrape farm before the owners entered the wine business because the latter was more profitable.

However, the report of a mirror monster devouring a worker caused the rest to flee, and distributors dropped the Pitchfork brand of wine to avoid hurting their reputations. Thus, the owners were in dire straits and tried to bribe my agency to expedite the case. I only heard this through the grapevine as bribery of public officials was illegal, but I had never received such payments as a lowly field agent before.

The manor occupants heard the carriage's arrival and came out to greet us. I saw an elderly couple in their sixties dressed in fine noble clothes and two raven-haired men in their late twenties or early thirties with some facial resemblance to their father. Both sported deep tans and wore wifebeaters to display their bulging frames; neither youngster exuded the noble aura I expected.

"Thank you for coming! I am Sir Torkild Buhl, and this is my wife Dorit, my eldest son Brent, and my second son Paul. I would offer our hospitality if the house workers hadn't all quit," the retired knight chuckled at the poor joke.

"Dad!" Brent hissed because he felt no need to disclose an embarrassing fact to the outsiders. However, he saw Eliza and became enchanted by the girl's lovely charm. "Beauty, may I have the pleasure of learning your name?" he approached, took her hand, and kissed it.

The target blushed. "I am Eliza Bensley, daughter of the Bensley Barony," she announced while executing the perfect curtsy.

Her words struck the hosts like lightning because the baron was their liege! All four bent their knees and lowered their heads. "We mean no disrespect, Your Grace!"

"It's fine," Eliza giggled. "I'm here to observe this Mirror Checker's activities rather than inspect your domain," she explained her purpose for the abrupt and unannounced visit.

However, the foursome became visibly nervous because they feared noble conspiracies and doubted her words.

"Is something wrong?" Eliza probed with a neutral voice.

"No, milady!" Dorit shook her head. "Would you like some refreshments?" the noblewoman offered.

"I apologize, but we're in a hurry to resolve this case," Eliza rejected, "so I ask for your full cooperation."

"Father, please allow me to guide them," Brent requested.

"Yes," the headship granted permission before bringing his wife back inside the modest manor. Torkild felt embarrassed at the two boys for wearing commoner attire, but they worked in the vineyard as replacement farmers. Besides, some noble girls preferred diligent men over brothel-visiting wastrels, and the father believed Eliza held a similar preference because, otherwise, she wouldn't perform an inspection personally.

Paul accompanied his brother, and the pair led the way across the silent estate until they reached a secluded area west of the main house. The visitors saw several simple thatched cottages facing a large warehouse with stone walls. Brent opened the door of a residence in the middle of the group but refused to enter.

I peered inside and saw a mirror. However, my nose didn't twitch, meaning the item WASN'T a devouring monster! My eyes narrowed as I slowly surveyed the interior of the one-room house. It had minimal furnishings, including a hay bed against a wall, a pot in the fireplace, a table, and four stools. "How many people lived here?" I asked.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Two. The victim's name was Brix, and his friend Talos reported the killing before fleeing the estate. Unfortunately, we don't know where the witness went and couldn't follow up on the incident," Brent answered. He pointed at the pool of blood before the mirror. "That is the evidence of Brix's death."

I raised my hand and cast a magic shield over the mirror before entering the house. Although I had confidence in my nose, agency training taught me to secure the mirror to prevent an ambush. I strolled around the room, surprising the onlookers with my behavior.

"May I ask what you are doing?" Paul inquired.

"He's searching for a baby mirror," Eliza answered proudly. "A cursed mirror reproduces itself after ingesting a victim, and the child might stay with its parent."

The two boys became nervous, and their heads swiveled like a weather vane while checking the bare room for signs of a tiny mirror.

Eliza giggled at their silly antics because she knew I would protect everyone from harm.

I ignored their conversations by the entrance while doing my due diligence work by the book. I scoured the bed because it was the most likely hiding spot for a child mirror and used Telekinesis to lift the mattress and blanket. Empty. I lowered my head to the ground to check under the bed but only found dust bunnies. I meticulously checked other hiding spots, including grooves within the wall, the corners, and the ceiling.

Once I eliminated these possibilities, I approached the pot and used Telekinesis to make a fist and smash its interior. *Gong* I turned the container upside down, but nothing fell through. Finally, I directed my attention to the mirror, and the observers became breathless. I slapped it with Telekinesis and cracked the mirror!

"This is a dud," I announced. "An authentic devouring mirror would react instead of allowing me to break its surface." I drew closer to the dried liquid on the ground, sniffed, and frowned. "This isn't human blood. I'm afraid your workers created an elaborate hoax to escape from your domain," I concluded.

While the two men froze at this declaration, Eliza applauded and laughed. "I can't believe someone would have the audacity to deceive their lord!" Her face turned serious. "How long ago did they make this complaint?"

"Four weeks," I answered with a shrug. While I was disappointed at discovering this hoax, it wasn't my first encounter with one. When farmers and other workers were unhappy with their employment conditions, they invoked a devouring mirror to ruin their mistreating noble employer. Since devouring mirrors were taboo, even the nobility would empathize with commoners who fled for their lives because nobles blamed the governing peer for having a magic mirror appear in their domain and treated its occurrence as a disgrace.

Brent's face turned livid because he appreciated these implications, and Paul patted his back as a gesture of support. Brent was the heir to the Pitchfork Estates, and the responsibility of cleaning this mess and clearing their good name became his. However, the first son's eyes turned malicious as an evil thought entered his mind. "How much?" Brent asked while staring at me.

My brows arched while circulating the mana within my body. "What do you mean?" I responded.

"I can't allow this to be a hoax. I purchased an insurance policy for our family wine business, and they cover losses due to a devouring mirror incident. Unless I get your confirmation, our family will go bankrupt, and my father will lose his knighthood!" Brent's words grew louder until he shouted at me.

Paul shook his brother's arm, but Brent refused to drop this idea. The crazed son cracked his knuckles. "If you don't cooperate, then the cursed mirror will have more victims," he threatened.

I pulled Eliza behind me. "You seem to believe I'm no threat. Perhaps, you need a proper lesson to treat mirror checkers with the respect we're due."

Brent smugly pulled out his necklace and pressed on the stone. An anti-magic shell erupted and covered the entire room! "I know you're an arcanist, but helpless without magic! Be a good boy, and let this uncle beat you to death!" Brent dashed forward and pulled his right fist for a windup.

I stayed still to let the foolish man make the first move and establish my legal right of self-defense, and Brent misunderstood my reaction as fear. The aggressor chuckled as his meaty fist inched closer to his target's face.

*Snap* Pain erupted in the attacker's elbow as it dangled out of its socket! *Bam* His nose broke, and hot blood rushed into his mouth. The victim's eyes lost focus. Another hit made Brent's world turn black.

I shrugged at the witnesses' astonishment because the fight ended within five seconds! "My three-year training at the Mirror Checker Agency included barehand fighting against multiple humans. Brent isn't very skilled either; he telegraphed his punch with a big windup, and I took advantage of the opening to end this fight efficiently," I explained like a professor teaching college kids.

Eliza cheered and applauded while Paul stood helpless and gritted his teeth. Although Paul wished to assist his brother, he couldn't join Brent in killing a government agent and the baron's daughter! Paul raised his hands and knelt. "I surrender," he declared.

I approached until I stood three feet from the second son. "Why didn't you join your brother to attack me?"

"I am loyal to Baron Bensley and refuse to rebel and harm his daughter," Paul answered, staring at me like a condemned facing his executioner.

I nodded at the man's stoic behavior and granted Paul a small favor. "I won't prosecute you; Brent acted solo against the barony," I declared because I visited the Pitchfork Estates with Baron Bensley's permission and became his de facto representative. Thus, any harm against me was the same as attacking the barony.

Eliza nodded her agreement to this decision and helped Paul to his feet. "I admire your courage and conviction. It's hard to go against your family," she sympathized.

Paul sighed while looking at his unconscious family member. "I will go and get my father."

I nodded my permission, and the crestfallen man departed. I brought out iron shackles to tie the culprit's wrists and ankles. When I felt Eliza's stare, I said, "Disappointed?"

The noble girl shook her head. "I understand the heir's desperation to keep what he should have inherited. Learning the worker's death was a hoax made Brent lose his mind, and I doubt I would react differently in his shoes," Eliza admitted.

"This is one of those days I'm glad to be born a commoner," I mused, earning a giggle from my companion.

The parents quickly arrived and saw their son in shackles, and their faces turned gloomy. Paul had explained what happened, and Brent's condition dispelled their illusions of a mistake by the mirror checker. "Please have mercy on our son!" Dorit cried while hugging her husband tightly.

"The baron should judge Brent's crimes," I answered before calling for a carriage on my tablet. I also entered "0" on the cursed mirrors in custody, and Eliza signed the confirmation after reading my footnote about a hoax created by former workers in the Pitchfork Estates.

We waited in awkward silence at the estate's driveway. Brent awoke and dropped his head in shame. Dorit cried while hugging her eldest because the mother worried Baron Bensley would execute him for endangering Eliza's life.

Once the carriage arrived, Eliza ordered the driver, "Take us to the guard station." When they reached it an hour later, she refused to enter! "I don't want to mix with my father's affairs," Eliza excused herself and watched me bring my captive into the building to process formal criminal charges. She hailed another carriage to go home.