Tsukika tilted her head slightly in confusion. “Does the Chosen Hero have any special secret technique for tracking?”

“Less a secret technique, more a method.”

Li Wei spoke calmly. “Right now, the Legion doesn’t even know where to start looking for clues about the demonization experiments. So I’ll give them a direction—save them from buzzing around like headless flies. Better to focus on this guy first than waste time.”

Unaware, Li Wei let slip a chilling smile—one he shared with the Demon Lord.

Whoever backed this man, whatever his goal… since he came to test *me*, he’s definitely hiding something. Whether or not he’s tied to the demonization experiments doesn’t matter.

“You mean… you want the Legion to uncover who’s pulling his strings?” Tsukika caught on, then tilted her head again. “So… does the Chosen Hero *know* he’s connected to the demonization experiments?”

“I don’t know.” Li Wei shrugged. “But I can *make* him connected.”

Tsukika froze. “…Isn’t that framing someone?”

“Then let him report to the Legion, prove his identity, declare himself an innocent citizen,” Li Wei said.

Tsukika: “…”

She felt like she was seeing the real Li Wei for the first time.

No—she *should’ve* known this was the real him all along.

After all, this human Chosen Hero had used plenty of shameless tactics against demons before.

…And tricking his own daughter? Equally shameless.

Tsukika hesitated. “I get it—you want to plant demonization-related evidence for others to find. But this guy just confronted you yesterday. If something happens to him today, won’t people suspect *you*?”

“Simple. Just muddy the waters deeper.”

“There’s a difference between him being silenced normally… and being found *after* demons killed him.”

Li Wei remained perfectly calm.

Tsukika: “?”

Li Wei murmured, “Do you think they’d rather believe I’ve regained my strength… or that I’m working with demons?”

It took Tsukika a long moment to follow his logic. *Right.* With clear signs of demonic silencing on the body, even the puppet master wouldn’t suspect Li Wei. No one would believe Li Wei wielded demonic power—or conspired with demons. Just like no one guessed the Demon Lord was Li Wei’s wife… and mother of his child.

“Then how will others believe he was *truly* killed by demons?”

Li Wei stared at her, genuine confusion in his eyes.

Tsukika sighed. “…Let me rephrase. Why do you think *I’ll* help you?”

“Because you don’t want your peaceful life disturbed either,” Li Wei said.

Tsukika: “…”

“But… why would demons get involved in silencing him? The logic doesn’t hold.”

“Is that *my* problem to explain?” Li Wei tilted his head. “Shouldn’t the culprit explain it *after* being caught? What he can’t figure out… how he twists it in his head… none of my concern. He’ll automatically rule out the truth anyway.”

“For the Legion, any clue tied to demons or demonization is enough to launch an investigation. Once they start digging… our goal is achieved.”

Li Wei’s tone stayed utterly composed.

Tsukika glanced at him, falling silent.

Suddenly, the shameless Li Wei felt… a little terrifying.

The Demon Lord began worrying about her married life:

“The Chosen Hero’s scheming really is scary, nya~”

“*sob*”

“A fragile girl like me… will surely be devoured completely by the Chosen Hero one day…”

Tsukika sniffled dramatically, wiping nonexistent tears.

Li Wei: “…”

…

The next afternoon, in a hidden chamber, the young man opened his eyes.

“Time to report back.”

His mission was complete.

Wary of Li Wei’s unsettling nature, he’d stayed concealed and silent for nearly a full day.

As his lord’s most valuable blade, Jeri trusted his skill—but trusted his caution more.

It was this caution that let him survive mission after mission and rise above the rest.

“If he *could* track me… he’d have found me already.”

Jeri muttered to himself. He’d severed all contact after the task, only returning once absolute safety was confirmed—shielding his superior from exposure.

If he vanished over three days? His lord would understand.

He believed this loyalty and prudence would one day be rewarded.

Stepping into shadow, Jeri peeled off his mask. His entire disguise shimmered, then ignited with faint crimson flames—crumbling to ash in seconds. He vanished from the room.

After switching disguises and leaving the hideout, Jeri contacted his lord.

But this time, the reply wasn’t a secret rendezvous point—it was a summons *to the mansion itself*.

Jeri trembled, overwhelmed.

This was his first such honor.

Inside the study.

Jeri stood respectfully aside, gazing reverently at the golden-haired figure by the desk. Sunset light filtered through the curtains, gilding his lion-like mane.

His lord lifted a delicately handsome face. Multiple projections hovered before him—he was mid-meeting.

The towering, oppressive auras of those figures seemed ready to burst through the light.

Jeri barely dared to breathe.

“No results yet? Days of inspections at the Demon King Citadel entrance—and *nothing*?”

“Of course there’s nothing! With demonization experiments causing this uproar, what idiot would openly smuggle people in now? Suicide?”

“What about the *exit*? Still not investigating?”

“How? Loot is private. Live inspections are already pushing limits. Set *that* precedent? The troops are already grumbling.”

“Markets nearby—all checked. Zero traces of demonization materials. Those bastards are slick.”

“What about the source of agony? Distorted emotions from the experiments should warp reality…”

“Nothing. Not a single trace.”

“The hell? Did these troubles just *appear*? You saw the corpse today—*demons* infiltrated, and we had *zero* intel? Isn’t that laughable?!”

“Next thing you know, the Demon Lord’ll stroll in and treat this place as a vacation spot!”

At the projection’s center, a towering figure in a beast-head helmet stood up, voice cracking with rage:

“One week. I want progress. Because of this, the Holy City summoned *me* and chewed me out. You *know* this is the critical phase of Lord Dragonbane’s campaign against the Demon Lord! If victory bond revenue drops—if the campaign falters—and I’m dismissed? *None of you* will walk away clean!”

After the rant, the projections faded one by one.

Alone now, the lord rubbed his temples wearily, then looked toward Jeri in the corner—his gaze heavy, complex.

“Jeri.”

Jeri dropped to his knees. “My lord. Thank you for this audience.”

“Did you complete everything I tasked you with?” his lord asked, voice calm yet layered.

Head bowed, Jeri recounted every detail without omission.

“I’ve set it in motion. Dawn’s faction wasted days—they can’t raise funds anymore and must follow your lead. Also… at the banquet, I unexpectedly encountered Li Wei. Remembering your orders, I tested him.”

“His strength seems unrecovered… though I cannot confirm fully.”

“Hmm.” His lord’s fingers tapped the armrest. At Li Wei’s name, the tapping paused. “That’s all?”

Jeri hesitated. “Yes, my lord.”

“Nothing else to report?” The quiet question made Jeri look up, bewildered.

“What did you do during your silence?”

“To secure secrecy and cut any tails, I sealed myself in silence.”

“*Did* you cut all tails?” The lord’s gaze pressed down like physical weight. Jeri shuddered, disbelief flashing across his face before he bowed deeper. “My lord… I deserve death. I didn’t know someone followed me.”

“No one followed you.” The lord pressed his brow, thinking of today’s corpse and the fresh clues now under scrutiny. “I just… can’t understand how *you* got tangled with demons. Or why *you’re* linked to that demonized body.” His tone was weary, almost sorrowful.

“How could something I hid so perfectly be exposed?”

Jeri looked utterly lost. “My lord… I don’t understand.”

“It doesn’t matter.” The lord lowered his hand, warmth returning to his smile. “Jeri… ten years you’ve served me, hasn’t it?”

“Yes… since you took me in.”

“Ten years ago, I earned that title—full of fire.”

“But ten years passed…”

“And I remain *here*.”

“Time waits for no one, Jeri.”

The lord rose, walked to the kneeling man, crouched slowly, and gently stroked his head.

Jeri trembled, tears welling hot and sudden.

“I remember our first meeting,” the lord murmured. “You said you’d give *everything* for me. Right?”

“Yes, my lord!” Jeri cried fervently, tears streaming.

The lord glanced away as if pained.

“Even… your life?”

“*Even my life!*”

“Then… today, I witness your loyalty. My child.”

As he spoke, the hand on Jeri’s head flushed crimson.

Sunset painted their silhouettes on the wall.

Then—a monstrous, grotesque shadow swallowed the entire surface. A grating crunch echoed… and vanished.

Only the lord remained standing, hand hovering midair.

Where Jeri knelt—nothing.

As if he’d never existed.

…Though not *quite* nothing remained.

That was the damp trace of tears, still tinged with a faint hint of blood.

But in the next moment, as if licked away by some unseen force, even that subtle mark vanished completely.

"When one grows old… one simply can’t bear to see tears shed before them," the nobleman murmured, face unreadable. He peeled off the blood-red gloves—still faintly writhing in his palm—and calmly tucked them into his pocket. Returning behind his desk, he pushed the window open, airing a room that held no scent to begin with.

After smoothing his attire, he gave the bell rope on the desk a gentle tug and spoke evenly:

"Our guest has waited long enough. Please show her in. My business is concluded."

Soon after, light, brisk footsteps approached from the hallway.

Just from their rhythm, one could picture the visitor: youthful, vibrant, brimming with hope and dreams—a reflection of his own distant past.

Eyes closed, the man behind the desk lingered in silent thought a moment, then opened them. After a soft knock, he said gently, "Please come in."

A golden-haired maiden stepped inside with lively grace, a frost-veiled longsword strapped to her back, clad in a clean battle skirt. She embodied every young Chosen Hero’s ideal—and the title "Veiled Moon" [Lv.65] hovering above her only deepened her dazzling presence.

Noting how she glanced curiously around the room, the man offered a slight smile.

"Miss Vivian, my apologies for the wait. Please, have a seat."

Vivian shot him a flustered look, her gaze drifting unconsciously to where Jerry once stood. Shaking the thought away, she settled into the chair opposite him, jaw tight.

"The apology is mine, Mr. Viret… I must go back on my word."

She met his eyes with quiet remorse.

Today was the repayment deadline. Having failed to gather enough funds, she had no choice but to return—and beg for just a few more days.