The tall man knocked on the door, which bore a sign. The wind whipping in from the street tugged at his coat, causing the oversized garment to sway slightly. This knee-length, double-breasted coat originated on the Mittal battlefields, initially designed for soldiers, boasting both waterproof and thermal properties. After Mittal's near-complete unification of the South Continent, it gradually spread among the populace, a symbol of synthesized fibers and a different kind of craftsmanship, embraced by all classes.

He waited for a moment, then the door automatically creaked open, revealing the hallway adorned with dozens of paintings and ornate pearl lamps. The man didn't show any surprise, merely glanced around briefly before stepping inside.

He strode forward unhindered, traversing the hallway before meeting the “Lady Nitya.” She was now sitting in an armchair, wearing a black coat, her right leg resting on her left, her blue eyes fixed on him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I am Nitya. Are you here to commission me?”

The man’s eyes darted around the living room, taking in the details. It was exceptionally clean, free of any unusual smells. Even the prominent fireplace was empty, lacking any firewood or the remnants of ash from a recent fire, making it clear it was just decorative.

This led him to believe that he was the first person here today.

He walked straight towards Nitya and sat in the chair opposite her, placing the newspaper tucked under his arm on the table between them, carefully avoiding the teacup filled with tea.

“You are ‘Nitya’? The adventurer who’s been making headlines these past two years?”

“It’s me.” Nitya nodded.

The man nodded stiffly, as if he hadn’t gotten used to his own body yet, and said,

“I want to find someone.”

Then, he pushed the newspaper towards her.

Nitya picked up the newspaper and immediately saw the name, “Nymph Fu Weekly,” and the headline that was hard to miss:

“Third attack this month! Bookseller’s wife and children murdered, husband missing… Police department refuses to release further information…”

“This is?” Nitya’s tone was clearly skeptical.

“I want you to find him. The missing bookseller.” The man spoke in a cold voice. “His name is James Vinylon. He’s tall and thin, likes to wear a brown coat and matching fedora. He speaks with a Mittal accent.”

His eyes suddenly sharpened, his voice dropping to a low growl.

“I think you know him.”

Nitya stroked her chin, her tone unchanged.

“I have some vague recollection. So, are you a police official, or someone who does business with him?”

“That’s not something a detective should ask.” The man cut her off directly. “You just need to know he’s a despicable thief who stole a valuable book. If you can find him, you’ll get five gold coins.”

In the Lanstier Empire’s monetary system, one gold coin could be exchanged for twenty silver coins. Theoretically, this commission was worth one hundred silver coins, about twenty times the price of finding Sam’s son.

“….Actually, I prefer the South Continent’s paper money. They’re easier to carry and more aesthetically pleasing.” Nitya casually retorted.

“Twenty White Staves.” The man immediately made a new offer.

This was a type of white-embossed, crossed-staff currency, the highest denomination of currency in the Mittal Empire of the South Continent. The exchange rate between the North and South Continents fluctuated often, as one was paper money and the other was metallic currency. But even at the lowest exchange rate, twenty White Staves could be exchanged for sixteen gold coins. This was equivalent to 320 silver coins, sixty-four of Sam’s sons.

Nitya paused for a moment, contemplating the number.

“I have always adhered to the principle of confidentiality. I will not target a former client.”

“Thirty White Staves.” The man continued to raise the price.

“…. I feel my skills are inadequate for this commission. There are too few clues.” Nitya ultimately decided to decline him. “You can try seeking out the local master detectives in Nymph Fu. They have extraordinary abilities. Many of them are true superhumans. I’m sure they will take on this commission.”

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The man looked at her coldly, and she met his gaze with a smile.

Their eyes met in the air.

They held each other’s gaze for a few seconds, the tension growing. Then, the man’s expression shifted from sharp to vicious, as if he were about to pounce on someone. The tension filled the air, but he finally stood up, turning to leave through the door.

Nitya sighed, a small, barely perceptible sigh, and reached for the teacup on the table.

As he reached the door, the man tilted his head, seemingly noticing something behind him. Without hesitation, he picked up the vase near the entrance, his muscles taut beneath his coat, and threw it behind him.

Whizz!

The vase whizzed through the air, but before it could make contact with its target, it was smashed by a teacup thrown from the other side. A clear shattering sound rang out as both the vase and teacup were reduced to shards on the floor.

A faint aroma of herbs filled the room.

The man reacted almost instinctively, even before the vase was thrown. A rush of wind erupted as he charged at Nitya, his right leg extended, kicking directly at the chair she was sitting on, sending both her and the chair flying!

Before the woman and the chair could even hit the ground, the man followed closely behind. With a speed no ordinary person could match, he unleashed a long-accumulated punch, a heavy blow that went straight through the chair, striking the woman, who had no time to adjust her posture. She could only barely raise her arm to block in front of her.

Bam! She was sent flying, crashing into the dining table and then slamming against the wall. The arm she used to block went limp, falling to her side.

The man strode towards her, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her into the air. His eyes were cold.

“You are… a superhuman…”

He heard her voice, weak, as she spoke. He showed no reaction. The hand gripping her throat tightened slightly, and her neck snapped. He then casually tossed her aside. Her lifeless body rolled across the floor, joining the broken furniture.

All of this happened in just a few seconds.

The man glanced around the room again, feeling a surge of confusion.

Was this the so-called “superhuman detective”? Though her reaction was a bit faster than an ordinary person, she hadn’t shown superhuman abilities… Had his information been wrong?

He didn’t dare relax, keeping his body tense, scanning the scene around him with his remaining eye.

But at that moment, he finally noticed a faint scent of herbs filling the room – no! It had permeated the room all along, but something had been masking it, and only now did he become aware of it!

He turned instinctively, ready to dash out of the room.

But as he turned, he discovered that the hallway connecting the living room to the door had somehow vanished, becoming a solid wall like the rest of the surroundings, blocking his escape.

Without hesitation, he punched the wall. Based on his experience, an un-enchanted wall would be breached by his punch, allowing him to widen the hole and escape. But this time, his fist struck, only to cause his arm to shake. The wall remained as solid as the space around it, unyielding!

He turned abruptly, his eyes scanning the debris scattered across the floor. He saw that Nitya’s body had vanished without a trace.

The man's pupils constricted slightly, then he heard Nitya's clear voice echoing through the room.

"The date on the newspaper is yesterday. This is a brand new issue. It’s hard for other areas to get their hands on it so quickly. That means you were in Nymph Fu at least yesterday. Let me guess. You didn’t come here directly. What kind of superhuman are you?”

The man didn’t respond to her, remaining alert, his eyes scanning the room. He had a hunch about the situation. Nitya must have burned some kind of hallucinogenic herb, drawing him into a kind of illusion.

The herbal scent was proof.

But the fact that he was still able to think clearly meant her trick was nothing more than that. She was simply using some kind of method to hide her body and then play tricks…

The man pondered, his muscles tense, ready to strike at any moment.

Nitya’s voice continued, her clear tone now carrying a seductive quality, almost as if she were enticing him to speak.

“Who ordered you here? What book did James Vinylon steal?”

Her voice was like a lover whispering in his ear, yet also like a beguiling demon, a kind of magical power emanating from her words, silently influencing his mind… Even though the man was internally guarded against it, he was still affected.

He felt the surroundings around him constantly shifting, environments receding and reappearing, finally becoming a hazy white light. A sense of warmth and security welled up inside him. He felt like he was suddenly back in his mother’s embrace, and so, dazed and unconsciously, he opened his mouth.

“It was a gentleman wearing red robes. He said it was a book that recorded secret, hidden historical records…”

He stopped mid-sentence, but didn’t regain his senses. He felt his consciousness becoming foggy, his vision turning black, his body growing cold, as if the god who ruled the dead had decided his fate and was now pulling him back to the underworld…

The floating scenery around him also solidified, returning to the living room with the fireplace.

The flames in the fireplace flickered silently, and the pleasant scent of herbs wafted through the room. Lady Nitya sat quietly across from him, wearing a nightgown and reading a thick, heavy book… Around her, the dining table, the vase, the chair, everything was normal, showing no signs of a fight.

He looked down and saw himself sitting in the chair opposite her, a dagger piercing through his chest. The blood flowing from the wound was mostly dried, leaving a large dark red stain on his clothes.

In the last vestiges of his consciousness, he recalled his experience after entering the room. As soon as he stepped inside, he’d become dazed and then been gently guided, his body unconsciously sinking into the chair, his mind ensnared in the illusion. And just as he was regaining consciousness, the dagger pierced through his chest.

He saw Nitya sigh, as if she regretted not being able to uncover the key clue. Her right hand moved across her chest, tracing a square.

“May you find eternal peace in the realm of the Night Lord…”

She finished speaking, seeing that he had completely lost consciousness, his life force extinguished.

“Thanks for bringing me the newspaper all the way…”