I'm back at the internet cafe replying to the message left by the gentlemancer.

[Gentlemancer: I didn't know that you are someone with such an affluent family, what brings you to this city?]

[U: Travel.]

[Gentlemancer: But what made you interested in my posting exactly?]

I can tell he is suspicious.

[U: You're right. Why am I interested? When I agreed to meet with your confidant, I was told he would be alone.]

[Gentlemancer: Was he not?]

[U: Don't play coy with me, especially after he went out of bounds and asked for me to reveal myself to him. I'm leaving the city before I get swarmed by requests. I don't trust your anonymity.]

There's tangible proof that I healed his wound, so his only suspicion should be my identity.

[Gentlemancer: Let's not be hasty, friend. Give me a time and location, and I'll get a car to pick you up. I need a healer of your caliber to do their magic on me.]

I thought his car was too big to travel the roads. I wonder if he considers that this is too convenient. Wait.

I look up news articles about the bombing, and lo and behold, news has reported a prime suspect is a man on an "amateur" portrait bearing a jaw injury. At least he doesn't have the media in his pocket, but that still makes me curious about his background.

How does he have so much money and access to bomb materials? He has a bunch of underlings too. Curious.

I message him to pick me up from a random coffee shop tomorrow early in the morning. It's late, and I want a night's rest in preparation for what's to come.

I double-check that I signed out on everything before leaving the cafe. I didn't use my personal information the entire time, and I'll change the password to the account I made on a different network. I wonder how internet scams are doing nowadays without online banking.

~

I'm threading wires throughout my mansion to kill time and to get power everywhere. It's a hassle.

The mansion walls are made from stone, but it's way more durable than I thought. I couldn't puncture any holes between rooms to string any wires through.

I'm in the main bedroom when I spot something weird with the decor. There are two copies of the same generic knight statue in my bedroom and study. Luckily, the study has a door to the room, or I wouldn't be able to spot the discrepancy.

Everything in this mansion was in perfect condition from when I got it. Whoever designed this place is a professional, so why are the statues not aligned?

The statue in my bedroom is ever so slightly rotated a few degrees. It's not perfectly perpendicular to the wall.

I wonder if Duchess was in here and messed with the statue. I can ask her later, but right now, I might as well take the time to fix this.

While moving the statue, I realize it was lighter than it should be. I went to the study and nudged that statue with my foot. I concluded that their weights are different.

I did what any rational person would do; picked up the statue and moved it somewhere else. There must be a reason why the sculptures are of different weights. Lo and behold, underneath where the stone knight was is some sort of secret tunnel.

I don't know who the previous owner was, but a secret underground tunnel leading from the main bedroom is not a good sign. If the tunnel is an escape route, what do I need to escape from? What can break into my mansion and threaten me besides the things I invite?

I make sure Flash Gordon is with me before heading down. Something magical is going on, or there's a hollow wall somewhere because I go well below the ground floor.

Luckily it's only a weird dungeon.

Inside the room, I'm initially greeted by a work table, a room that looks like a private cell, and space for another cell. There is some obvious dungeon equipment in the other half of the room, but it looked more torture than sex, so at least I have that now.

There are two hallways. One leads to a room with an arcane circle on the ground that I'm not going to touch. And the other leads to more cells.

I find a few more ways that can reach this underground area. Backtracking from the underground sector, I found an entrance to the library and the museum. I additionally found a weird underground ritual chamber, and I'm not going in there because fuck that.

Any weird things going on with my mansion are put on hold until I kill this golemancer.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

I understand the prison cells and the torture chamber, but what are these "magic" rooms? I'll make Duchess figure it out since she wants to learn more about magic. But after the golemancer dies, not before.

~

I'm sitting in front of a coffee shop in my healer disguise, waiting for the gentlemancer. He's supposed to have a vehicle pick me up and take me to his location.

I ordered a cappuccino, but I can't drink it without taking off my mask. I can't possibly scan every object right now to hunt for golems, so I won't risk it.

Some guy left his laptop unattended, and I'm looking at the local news. Before signing off last night, I started a rumor in the local chatrooms about a famous healer ranker in a beak mask passing through the city.

Healers only get famous for one thing, and that's healing. Usually, they do publicity stunts where they would heal the needy. The general populace knows that if they approach a famous healer that doesn't seem to be with their party, one of two things can happen. They can either get free healing because the healer wants some good publicity, or they'll be dismissed.

Healers asking for compensation is commonplace too, but it's still worth asking. Even if you have to pay an arm in a leg, you'll guarantee that you'll get that arm and leg back. Healers don't get famous if they suck at their job.

Ranker culture had some strange implications on society as well. Since these people are powerhouses, noncombatants will try their best not to needlessly piss them off. But rankers are also celebrities, depending on how you look at it.

I'm using these various facets to make it seem like a powerful healer is trying to stay anonymous while passing through the city, but they are wearing an eye-catching mask. Eventually, I want to make money abusing my unique healing skill, and spreading rumors are enough to plant my seeds.

I would do it without an alter ego, but I might as well since I'm already wearing the mask. Only niche internet news sites reported the online traction my rumors had. More than I expected.

The car isn't here, so I use this time to look up some healing spells, and I want to compare [Heal Anything] to what comes up.

There's no one-stop shop place for spells, or being a mage would be infinitely better than it already is. However, descriptions of 'common spells' can be found. There must be some sort of people trying to monopolize magical information. Right? There's no way someone hasn't leaked their spellbook in a PDF.

The low healing spells are [Bandage], [Low Heal], and [Soothing Words].

Technically, [Bandage] and [Soothing Words] aren't healing spells. [Bandage] is a skill, not a spell, that utility classes get that allows them to infuse bandages with mana to slightly boost their healing capabilities. Persuasion classes have [Soothing Words], which are supposed to calm creatures down, with the added benefit of minor healing.

[Low Heal] heals creatures with an unchanging amount based on who cast the spell. None of the healing spells/skills heal based on a conversion ratio like mine. They also have stipulations that weaken them.

You need bandages for [Bandage], and the creature needs to hear you for [Soothing Words]. [Low Heal] one-ups me because they don't need to touch their target, but I have to. At least my skill works on more than just creatures.

I removed the portion of the search history I added and wondered if I should do this guy a favor and delete the entire thing. Holy shit does this guy need a girlfriend. I don't touch the laptop and sit somewhere else.

A fancy limousine pulls up in front of the cafe, and the driver gets out. He looks around before spotting me and motions for me to approach the car.

[Reinforced Limousine Black B]

It's not a golem.

As I close in, the driver already has the backdoor open for me. I gingerly enter before the door closes behind me. The car starts moving, surprising me. Two drivers or one fast one?

"Like my limousine? It cost me a fortune. It can withstand fireballs and gunfire. Wine?"

I'm not surprised as I noticed him when I entered the car. The gentlemancer is sitting in the back with me, acting uninjured. I know it's him because of the scar on his jaw.

He sits across from me on the same side of the limousine. Staring into my mask's eye holes, trying to spot my eyes through the tinted glass.

I don't answer. Isn't the gentlemancer supposed to be bedridden in pain, sustaining himself off health potions? Something is off with him.

[Gentlemancer Lv 101]

His class advanced. Shit. Good thing he was dumb enough to come in person.

He pours a glass of wine before speaking again. "The doors are locked, and there is no way out for someone of your strength. Attacking me will let me transport myself away so you can rot here. Or at least until we gas you."

I take off the mast and take a swig of wine from the bottle. It tastes like shit, and the alcohol wouldn't affect me since I turned off my [Broken Liver]. I punch the window, and nothing happens.

"What gave it away?"

"A gentleman never reveals his secrets."

"That's a magician."

"... It wasn't your private messages. Regretfully I was entranced at the offer of getting the services of a Valentine, but it was the stone in your pocket."

I hid Flash Gordon on my person for emergencies, but I didn't expect that to be why things fell apart.

"How could that possibly be the case?"

"One of my skills allows me to sense and evaluate valuable objects, and I had the same feeling as when I first spotted your 'Flash Gordon.' I don't believe in coincidences, and two [Elemental Stones] with the same value in this city, nonsense. That's when I figured it was a setup, I don't know how you tricked my servant, but I'll find out soon."

The limousine passes through some gates into a property. The massive house is impressive but not as fancy or big as my mansion.

"So what's the plan now, hope I volunteer to walk to whatever interrogation room you have set up?"

"Your ogrish strength is annoying, but I'm sure the car can handle it. I'll starve you until you decide to come inside. But the dehydration will most likely get you. I've disregarded the poison gas plan since the poison in the wine doesn't seem to affect you."

"Is that why it tastes like shit?"

"No, my uncouth prisoner, the poison was tasteless, much like you."

The look on his face is calm. Like at any moment, he could escape to safety, but that's not the case. The attack that scarred him disproves that. I reach past him to the mini-fridge.

"There's nothing else-."

My foot is in contact with the limousine door. In one motion, I pull the gentlemancer and myself through the mansion door I conjured with my foot.