“Kendra! I need you to work with Lard-” Master suddenly said to me when I entered the hallway leading towards the basement of the headquarters.

“I’m out. I want to visit the market,” I hastily cut him off, replied, then left. I was looking for Master to tell him that I was going out anyway, so my mission was completed. It was absolutely not part of my plan today to hang out with those two weirdos.

After eating my sandwich, I sped up my walking speed, almost to the point of jogging, in fear that Master would suddenly grab me and force me to go along with his shenanigans.

“Careful, Boss Kendra!” one of Master’s minions warned me when I nearly bumped into him.

I quickly apologized and bowed my head before darting towards the exit. Outside, I got into a wagon and breathed a sigh of relief. The driver at the front, a banshee, turned around and asked, “Booooooss Kendra. Where d’yaaaaaa need to be today?”

“The market district, please.”

The journey to the market was short, thankfully, as the banshee kept talking to me nonstop throughout the entire ride. I exit the wagon, feeling ever more exhausted than before, but my hopes shot back up as I was finally away from that mental asylum.

As far as I was concerned, there was a book fair being held at the market district, and Gravia's book fair had quite a reputation across the Continent. After all, the undead had hundreds of years to accumulate and produce books, leading to priceless work of arts going for dirt cheap prices during fairs.

After patting my pockets to make sure I had my purse, I made my way to the fair—at a small park in the middle of the market district. The fair was quite ordinary, quite like the summer fairs in Angolia. There were stalls everywhere, piles of books under a small tent roof lined the park, and the usual city bustle was ever-present. I strolled past a few stalls, eager to dig through the scrolls and books one by one but I couldn't decide where to start.

In the end, instead of starting at a book stall, what caught my interest was a food cart. I stared at the lone woman grilling food behind the metal cart and couldn’t help but feel a sense of familiarity with the person.

The woman looked so… nostalgic. Almost heavenly? I wasn’t sure how to describe her

Before I realized it, I was in front of the cart already. Unlike the book stalls, the food cart wasn’t as busy. Perhaps it was just natural as the majority of the undead didn’t need eat or had… alternative food preferences.

“Greetings! Can I get your ord- eh?” the woman looked up from her grill and paused when she saw me.

“Have we met before?” I asked.

The woman shook her head. “I don’t think so! Can I get your order, though?”

She had a divine smile—angelic in a sense I couldn’t put my finger into. Why does she remind me of someone from Angolia? I knitted my brows in confusion but regained my composure once I decided that thinking about this was a waste of time.

I had books to browse through, for Goddess’ sake!

“Eep!” the woman suddenly exclaimed. I eyed her suspiciously, and she gave me a nervous smile. “O-Oops! Nearly cut my finger! Anyway, have you decided on your order yet?”

I looked at the menu on the side and browsed through the selection. After a quick glance, I decided to go for a light snack since I already had a sandwich before coming here. “I’ll just have a spiced bun, please.”

“What spice?”

“Cinnamon, please,” I replied.

The woman nodded her head and skillfully wrapped a prepared bun with paper wrapping before tying it with a small rope. “That’ll be two dollars please!”

I patted my dress and fished out my purse. I sighed when I realized that my purse was just filled with money from places all over the Continent and quickly started digging through. I pushed away Cahalotian silver sheets, dug out Angolian coins, and moved United Fortresses pieces to my free pocket to clear the clutter.

“Ehm...If you want, you can just pay me in other currencies. I’ll accept any at conversion rate,” the angelic woman remarked.

“Oh, great. You accept any kind of silver?” I asked.

“As long as they’re real, I suppose.”

I fished out one of Boss’ stupid casino tokens, a currency used only within his circle. I wasn’t exactly sure why, but these tokens were heavier than normal coins, though I could tell that it had real silver.

Probably.

Metallurgy isn’t my field of expertise. Perhaps I should ask Asha…

“Eh? Why do you have this?” the woman asked.

“What do you mean?” I shot back with a question.

“No! Never mind! I’ll accept it! Converting from the ratio in my memory, it would be…Oh but that was a long time ago. Oh, darn it. I’ll just convert anyway...”

For some reason, the tokens actually had a conversion ratio to dollars, and she started counting my change. As she counted, I noticed something more interesting than this woman or the books at the stall. A bald, shriveled up hunchback hag emerged from a skyscraper just a few streets away surrounded by heavily armed bodyguards.

Though she looked like she belonged in a beef jerky store, she looked extremely dignified in her lavishly embroidered gray-and-white suit. There was also a crowd of people just at the entrance of the building, but they quickly parted and made way for the hag and her entourage. After a quick wave to the crowd, she got into a wagon and drove off.

If my memory serves me right, every incident where Master and I bumped into Particia, that hag was also there. Without a doubt, she must be Particia's right hand.

I slowly turned back to the food vendor, but my curiosity started welling up. A fierce battle raged between my need to satiate this curiosity and my want for ancient books. Something was screaming in the back of my mind - what is she up to?

This opportunity seemed too good to pass on...

“Peh. The book fair will continue until tomorrow anyway,” I concluded to myself. Hopefully losing the opportunity to get the good books on the first day of the fair would be worth sacrificing.

“What was that?” the woman asked, still counting my change.

“Keep the change. I need to go,” I said before disappearing from her sight with the cinnamon bun hanging by my wrist with the small rope..

I found myself somewhere close to the entrance of the building after invoking an imperfect near-divine teleportation. Luckily for me, the hag’s wagon was still in sight and the teleportation didn’t throw me far from the street. I still needed sight and approximate imagination for teleportation to work, so it would sometimes put me somewhere near my intended target.

I used a long range spell to burn an ‘X’ onto the wagon which would glow blue if a special sight spell was used. I took out a tiny bottle of ink, dabbed my left index finger in it, and drew a messy rune on my right hand.

With the wagon marked, I looked at the rooftop of the nearest building that wasn’t too tall and teleported towards it. I appeared just at the very edge of the roof’s ledge and nearly slipped off, but I expected this so I quickly blinked into the inner roof. After catching my breath, I quickly looked down, made a circle with my right hand, and peeked through it. A quick scan down below betrayed the position of a wagon with a small glowing blue X on its back. I marked the roof of the car with the same marking spell just to make it easier to see it from above.

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Fortune seemed to favor me today as there was a traffic down below, giving me time to choose my next teleportation target in advance. As the hag’s wagon drove along the city roads, I kept up by teleporting from rooftop to rooftop.

After the fifth building, I clutched my chest and breathed in for a whole minute. Though not as bad as when I started learning under Master, using true magic still took a toll on my body. I had wondered if the fact that Master was an undead was a factor on why he could continuously and flawlessly use true magic, but he claimed that it didn’t matter if I was just a pile of bones or a meatbag. He told me to just get better or, as he quoted Lard, 'get gooder'.

Whatever he meant by that...

After wiping the sweat off my forehead, I quickly checked the street. I had to redraw the rune on my hand, but I was still on the wagon’s trail.

“Okay, Kendra. You can still do this,” I hyped myself up and blinked to the next rooftop.

After a few more teleports, I was about to reach my limit when the wagon finally stopped in front of a dull black-and-blue building with dead thorny bushes lined against the walls.

I teleported to the roof of the nearest building and leaned against the parapet. I scrubbed out the runes on my hand and drew a different set on it.

Using my hand-scope, I checked the building floor by floor until I found the hag sitting in front of a window wall. She sat on a comfortable chair, reading a paper while her bodyguards stood like statues in the background.

I observed her for a few minutes and found nothing interesting. I scratched my head in frustration and murmured, "Did I waste my time?"

Just to be sure, I continued to spy on her for almost an hour, only then did I put my hand down in defeat.

I recalled that some of Master's minions had to do this kind of spywork, and I suddenly had profound respect for them.

I can't do this for over an hour, so imagine doing this for an entire week!

I sighed, but I was used to this. As Master would say, 'You win some, you lose some. I could go for a nap or two by now.'

Tsk.

Just as I was about to teleport away, I noticed that a new figure entered the hag’s room.

Particia? No.

"Why is she…" I muttered as I peered through my hand-scope. It was the banshee driver! Why was she meeting with the hag?!

I bit my thumb, my eyes wandering around the place as my brain formulated a plan. I found a part of the window wall covered by a dull gray curtain. With my plan set, I drew a somewhat random drawing on the ground and tried my best to remember it.

Satisfied, I turned back to the building and focused on the covered spot. I closed my eyes, blanketing myself with a spell. I felt a hand touch my hair, then my shoulder. Voices whispered to me, but none were legible. It was like trying to listen to someone talk in a vivid and blurry dream.

It was either that I was getting better at ignoring the faceless clowns, or I was losing my mind.

I felt my body cold, inside and outside; a spell shroud covered my entire body, tearing “my body” between this realm and a separate but empty realm I created. The undead shouldn't be able to sense me now.

With a blink, I teleported behind the curtains and muffled my breathing. Now, it was all up to my sense of hearing. Footsteps shuffled around the room, though I could hear a pair of raspy breathing. It must be the hag and the banshee.

"Do you have what I want?" the hag asked.

"Ooooooh yes. The information you seek. What you want and more. The many things you paid for in precious silveeeeeer," the banshee said.

Information? On who?

I could hear someone flipping through a set of papers or parchment.

"Is this parchment?" the hag asked.

"Yes. Made from dried animal leather, used for writing things oooooooon," the banshee replied.

"You should consider switching to paper. It's cheaper and much less cruel to animals."

That's not important, you guys! I need to know what's in the information!

"Makes noooooo difference to me," the banshee remarked.

The hag grunted and flipped through the parchment. "This better have good information on Boss."

Master?!

"And his right-haaaaand," the banshee added.

"Ah. The thin, young man who looked like he wasn't allowed to sleep for a week?"

"Nooooo, nooooooo. The little girl!"

There was a brief silence in the room before the hag said, "What little girl?"

"The short girl who works with Boooooooss?"

I heard some scratching sound before the hag commented, "She must be very short because I never noticed her."

I would've clicked my tongue if not for my precarious situation right now!

After a while, the hag growled and pointed out, "Is the information written here correct? Is Boss really connected to the Angolian Royal Family, the United Fortresses Queen, and the Sayistin High Command?"

"Aaaaand the Sorcerer City-States. He's a hooooonored guest in both spectruuums of the field, muscle or otherwise."

"By liberty…This information is more than what I wanted. Here is your payment." I could hear one of the hag's bodyguards place something heavy on a table. "This should more than satisfy you."

"Ooooooh yes. Certainly. If you need my serviiiices again, please contact me again."

"We shall see about that."

With the meeting over, I remembered my random scribbling on the ground and teleported out of the building. I immediately got my guard up as soon as I returned to the other building’s rooftop. Like a bird of prey searching for a small animal, I watched every exit of the black-and-blue building.

I had to teleport to two other buildings to watch the other angles, but I managed to find the banshee. This time, I stayed on top of the parapets to keep track of her. Tracking a wagon from the roof was hard enough, but it was harder tracking a semi-transparent ghost in broad daylight.

I ran across rooftops, jumped between buildings, and hopped from wall to wall while using teleportation whenever I was starting to lose track of the banshee. It seemed that months of hellish training wasn’t so bad.

As I leapt from one building to another, I pondered why Master’s minion would betray him. Was it even possible to betray your undead master? I had thought that there was an unspoken undead law which cannot be broken.

Should I intercept the banshee and interrogate her?

Could it be possible that I mistook her for a normal Gravian citizen? Impossible. She knew a lot about Master for someone from Gravia.

Even then, why was she selling information to one of Master’s rivals? Despite the fact that Master could be so greedy, his minions tended to be luxuriously rich and their wants seemed non-existent.

Could it just be a personality trait? Despite the lack of need for money, Master was still indeed greedy as a magpie…

There were just too many questions. The only way to answer them was if I capture the banshee and-...

Wait.

That’s the headquarters.

Master’s headquarters.

I teleported to the roof of a nearby building and watched the banshee enter the headquarters with the briefcase on hand. By intuition, I looked up at the highest floor—at Master’s office. The curtains were partially let down, because Master liked his rooms dark.

I watched as the banshee entered the room and placed the briefcase right in front of Master himself. He leaned back on his chair and grabbed a handful of dollars before tossing them up into the air. I could almost hear his stupid voice.

‘I’m rich! I’m rich! Ha ha ha! Those morons!’ was what he was probably saying.

When he dismissed the banshee, I took a deep sigh and prepared to go back down to the streets to slowly walk back to the fair. However, I noticed that it was getting dark already, so the fair was probably done for today.

Out of motivation to exert my body any further, I took a break first. Leaning against the parapet, I looked back into Master’s office and noticed that he was looking in my direction.

No. He was looking at me!

He held his hand out and snapped his fingers. The moment I blinked my eyes, I found myself inside his office.

“What exactly are you doing spying on me?” Master asked.

“I’m not spying on you! Why would I want to spy on you?!” I retorted.

“Bahahaah! I’m just joking! I already knew where you were the moment you started teleporting across the city,” Master laughed hysterically.

Once he calmed down, I asked, “Did you seriously just sell your own information to your rival?”

“Perhaps,” he answered while twiddling with stacks of paper money. “Well, anyway, it’s not like they were all accurate anyway. I get money, they get disinformation. The usual politicking.”

“They won’t simply fall for such simple tricks, you know?” I pointed out.

Master tapped the table and replied, “I am the one in control when it comes to information.”

I scratched my cheek and grunted an agreement. “Well, I guess no matter how much of an undead you are, you can’t beat a thousand-year-old Archlich…”

“Besides. Even without the deceit, information on me is pretty scary. They’ll act carefully against me, which means they move slower against me. That means more time to procrastinate on countering them!” Master proudly boasted as if planning for procrastinating was something worth applauding.

I clapped my hands and rolled my eyes. “Of course. Anyway, I should get going now. What a waste of time. At least I don’t have to ride back here.”

“Hey, wait! What’s that over there?” he pointed at the wrapped bun hanging from my wrist. I pulled the bun up by the rope and raised an eyebrow.

“This? I bought it at a vendor.” I pointed behind me with my thumb and continued, “At the book fair.”

“Book stalls sell food?”

“A food vendor, bonehead,” I retorted.

“I didn’t know they sold normal food. Is the book fair still up?” Master asked while leaning forward.

“Tomorrow. I suppose I could also get you a bun while I’m there,” I sighed.

“Buy as much as you can carry or buy with this stack of cash,” Master said while pushing a pile of dollars towards me.

I should correct myself. Though a miser, he doesn’t seem to hesitate on spending on the dumbest things. I nodded my head and raised a hand. “Alright, alright. I’ll buy one of every item, I suppose.”