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Burying the corpse

As Raven raised his sword to kill the doctor, the doctor suddenly shouted, “Wait!” Raven halted, raising an eyebrow in response. The doctor had shut his eyes tightly in fear, but realizing he was still alive, he slowly opened them. Raven stood ready to strike, his expression suggesting he was waiting to hear the doctor’s final words. The doctor, panicking, quickly began to speak.

“I truly didn’t betray you! If I intended to kill you, I could have done so last night when you were completely defenseless.”

Raven lowered his sword slightly and spoke, “Then how did they get all this information?”

Dusting himself off and standing up, the doctor replied, “They have intelligence networks across the entire country. Threatening just a few staff members would be enough. If someone named ‘Raven Blake’ has appeared in a certain region’s records, they can easily piece together your past like a puzzle.”

Raven understood the logic, though his trust in the doctor was shaken. He stood there with a furrowed brow, waiting for more answers. Sensing Raven’s gaze, the doctor continued, “I recorded your presence when I left last night. They probably threatened the nurses first to get your name, then checked different regions to uncover your past.”

Raven knew that much of his history could be traced through dungeon records, including his adoption by the Hunter family. As he mulled over this, the doctor spoke again, “But I don’t know why they would go to such lengths. No matter how important you are, they wouldn’t act so hastily unless you’ve recently harmed them.”

Raven was quite sure of why they acted so suddenly. “Before coming here last night, I stole some money from a group of drug dealers. The assassin who attacked earlier mentioned a shortage of money. So, they neither knew me well nor had a significant reason to strike.”

The doctor nodded in agreement, returning to his disordered laboratory. Raven turned, picking up his scabbard from the ground, placing it on his back, and sheathing his sword. As the doctor turned around and saw him still holding the sword, he warned, “I told you not to take that sword.”

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Raven looked at him, confused, and raised an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

The doctor walked over and explained, “The Nightmare Clan’s equipment is all enchanted with tracking spells. Even after death, the spell remains on the gear for years. You need to bury it somewhere in the forest until the spell weakens. That way, it’ll take them longer to realize their men are dead.”

Though disappointed, Raven knew he would have to let go of the weapon if that were true. Just as he approached the door, the doctor called out again, “If you don’t want to leave any traces, take the armor as well. That spell is on it too. Since it’s assassin armor, it shouldn’t be too heavy; I’ll move the corpse to the hospital morgue myself.”

Raven turned back, kneeling beside the skeleton, removing the pieces of armor one by one. He borrowed a sack from the doctor, loaded all the armor inside, and headed for the door. “Be careful, Raven,” the doctor advised. Raven nodded and set off into the forest, knowing exactly where to bury the equipment. The cave entrance he had sealed with the serpent would serve as a perfect hiding place; the tracking spell’s power would be entirely neutralized there. If they couldn’t trace the remaining gear, there would be no solid evidence of the man’s death. Low-ranking assassins usually weren’t given much importance in any organization.

Raven traveled a long distance once again, though this time with a clear destination, allowing him to move much faster. Squeezing through the rocks, he entered the cave and lit a piece of wood to use as a makeshift torch. After a few minutes of walking deeper inside, he took his sword and began digging. Had he a shovel or a pickaxe, he would have dug much faster, but using his only tool—the sword—was better than digging bare-handed. “If I’m doing this, I need to do it right,” he thought, resolving to keep at it the entire day. He dug for hours until he’d created a deep enough hole, then finally covered it. Exhausted, he emerged from the cave, noting how late it had become, and headed directly toward the mansion.

After walking for several minutes, he finally encountered the mansion guards. They immediately opened the gate and addressed him, “You’ve been missing for days, and in your current state, Edward Hunter wishes to see you, young sir. He’s waiting in the first-floor hall. Everyone has been very worried about you.”

Raven rolled his eyes as he entered. Though he was born with the battle skills of a god, he was still a teenager, and he resented these limitations. However, Edward Hunter was his father and also the man he feared most in his life. Steeling himself for a possible reprimand, he walked half-naked toward the hall where they’d last spoken. When he glanced down the small stairs, he saw Miles and Edward sitting side by side, talking. The sight of Miles offered a slight sense of relief, though he was still tense.