By the time Oliver and his group reached the alley, the tragedy had already unfolded. Only bloodstains and battle-scarred craters remained—complete silence.

The two adventurers from his guild were gone. Likely dead. But…

Oliver frowned. Why were other adventurers’ bodies here too? Why would low-rank rookies even be in this place?

Their appearance screamed *just left the tavern*—some hadn’t even brought weapons.

As he examined the scene, a sharp cry rang out behind him.

“Nefu?!”

He turned. The woman who’d always clashed with him—Ophelia—wore genuine fear. *How rare.*

Ophelia had already spotted Nefu. She lay deep in the alley where blood pooled thickest, her maid dress soaked crimson, unconscious.

Rushing over, Ophelia pressed a finger to the girl’s pale neck. After a few seconds, she exhaled in relief.

“She’s alive?”

Seeing Ophelia’s eased expression, Oliver froze, then strode closer.

“Oliver! What are you doing?!”

Clutching Nefu, Ophelia stepped back, wariness flashing in her eyes.

“Relax. I only need to know what happened to my guild’s adventurers. Your maid’s alive—she holds clues.” Oliver’s voice was low, tense.

“Guild Master Oliver, that’s inappropriate. I’ll question her once she wakes.”

Ophelia shielded Nefu protectively as Oliver reached for her.

Just then, Eileen—following quietly—slightly bent down. Dipping her finger in blood, her face paled. She spun around.

“Stop arguing! The Ghost hasn’t gone far—the blood’s still warm!”

Oliver snapped to attention. He leaped onto the rooftop, activating vision-enhancing magic to scan the area.

Ophelia didn’t move. Cradling Nefu, she warily scanned the shadows, then sighed.

*They still don’t get it. This Ghost isn’t like other monsters. Highly intelligent. Just left? Probably watching from unseen corners… or right beside us.*

She tightened her hold on Nefu.

“Nothing. No traces.”

Oliver dropped down, face grim. No monster. Two guild members lost. Fury simmered.

“Perhaps… we need to reassess this creature,” Eileen murmured after a pause.

“Everyone, head home. I’ll handle cleanup. Guild Master Ophelia—if your maid wakes, please inform us.” Eileen offered a wry smile. “She’s our only lead on the Ghost.”

*So that’s why Abbas sent me…* She’d thought teaming up with Guild Masters #2 and #3 would end it. Instead, the monster bypassed them entirely—attacking others. *As if it’s been watching us all along.*

“I understand. I’ll cooperate.” Ophelia lifted the unconscious Nefu, nodded to Eileen, then added coolly, “Next time, give me a heads-up. And leave the unpleasant company behind.”

She shot Oliver a disdainful glance, huffed, and left.

...

“Little kitty? Little kitty? Still not awake?”

Ophelia’s soft voice made Nefu’s head ache.

*After killing those two, I had to eliminate a few drunk tavern-goers for cover. Then I collapsed into the blood, faked unconsciousness—flawless. Only flaw? Waking to *her* face.*

Ophelia leaned over the bed. Bare feet painted crimson-red kicked lazily midair. Each sway of her slender legs lifted the short skirt hem just enough—a teasing glimpse of skin, unseen by anyone.

Seeing Nefu’s eyes open, Ophelia’s cradling hands softened into a smile.

“Master…”

“You’re finally awake, my little cutie~”

She pulled Nefu into a crushing hug, ample chest nearly smushing the girl’s face.

“M-Master… I’m fine.”

“Good. We’ll talk later. Wait—I made you a feast!”

Ophelia sprang up, dashing to the kitchen. Hard to believe this was the same Valkyrie Guild Master who usually glared down her nose at everyone.

*Sigh~*

Nefu rubbed her stomach. *Pity those two had no special talents… but now I can mimic them.* She stretched, oddly cheerful. *Ophelia seems clueless.*

She missed one thing: Ophelia never looked worried while waiting. Almost like she *knew* Nefu was just sleeping.

“Here, little cutie—try my prawns! You’ll love them.”

Ophelia was usually a decent cook. But her “experimental” dishes? Pure dark cuisine.

Staring at the jet-black prawns, Nefu’s lips twitched. *Even as a Mimic, this’ll give me stomachache.*

As she scrambled for an excuse—

A shadowy figure snatched the plate straight from Ophelia’s hands.