The slash was clean—a precise cut straight to the neck, slicing through the layers of coats that shielded the rest of the body.
No resistance.
Too clean.
The figure froze. Something wasn't right.
What they had just cut… wasn't human.
The realization came too late. There was no escape now.
"It was the maid!" a voice shouted as the door burst open.
The figure turned, seeing the boy who should have been lying in bed now standing at the doorway, looking smug.
"I really didn't want to believe it," Lloyd said, lowering his gaze. "But it seems I was right, Lucia."
Most people wouldn't have recognized her.
Lucia wore a tight black suit that covered nearly her entire body, with a mask concealing part of her face. Her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her eyes looked sharper—colder.
"So, you knew," she said calmly, taking a seat.
Crossing one leg over the other, she stared at the boy, trying to figure out what had given her away.
"Well, it was mostly a hunch. I wasn't completely sure," Lloyd admitted, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall. "I always suspected that Clarinda's case was different from the attempt on my life. After all, what would she gain by killing me? She could've kept stealing while I was alive."
But there was more to it than that. The main reason he knew Clarinda wasn't the killer was simple—his system hadn't notified him that the mission was complete.
"It was obvious she wasn't the assassin. Which left you as the most suspicious one after her."
He'd always found it strange that Lucia had been near the area where he nearly drowned. But that also raised another question—why had she saved him then?
Lloyd could only theorize. Maybe she'd planned to make his death look like a suicide, but leaving his body by the shore would've made that impossible to fake. By saving him, she could divert suspicion and set up a new plan.
"Really? And why suspect me? I always thought I was quite the actress," she said with mild curiosity.
"Precisely because of your good acting," Lloyd replied. "That's why I didn't want to suspect you. Even the thoughts I read from you made you seem innocent—almost too much so. So I decided to change my approach. Instead of suspecting everyone, I tried to think like the killer."
That was the key—the shift in perspective that led him here.
"First, I separated the two incidents: the murder attempt and the theft. Different crimes, but possibly connected. Then I realized something—the killer must have known about the theft." He began pacing across the room. "If the murderer had infiltrated the mansion, they'd want to stay informed. So what would happen if the killer discovered Clarinda's fraud? Simple—they'd see an opportunity."
Lucia raised an eyebrow, not quite following yet.
"The reason I wasn't killed earlier is likely because of Sebastian," Lloyd continued. "He's too strong. So the only way to kill me was to distract him."
Lucia nodded, silently confirming he was correct.
"So, the killer stole my pendant. Knowing how vital it was to me, and how Sebastian would react, it was the perfect bait to send him away. With Sebastian gone, the killer could strike—and even better, they'd have someone else to take the blame. Using the thieves as scapegoats created a perfect alibi."
Lucia leaned forward slightly, intrigued. He wasn't entirely right, but his deduction was impressive nonetheless.
"But that was also your mistake," Lloyd said. "Clarinda made it clear she only stole unused valuables—things collecting dust. My pendant didn't fit that pattern. I literally need it to live. And she wasn't lying when she said she didn't recognize it. That told me she never cared enough to touch my belongings."
Lloyd had confirmed it using the Eye of Envy.
"I see… but why did *that* expose me?" Lucia asked, genuinely curious.
"Because when Sebastian returned and began investigating, the killer got nervous. So they planted my pendant in Clarinda's room as evidence—but to do that, they needed to know I was already investigating her. And only one person could have known that: you. You were the one who found me in the garden. You must have deduced who I was watching."
Ironically, that wasn't his first clue. What had truly tipped him off was her scent—the same faint fragrance he'd noticed lingering in Clarinda's room.
"Well, that's only half true," Lucia admitted, standing up. "Honestly, I had no idea those two were scheming anything. I only found out that same night."
That confused Lloyd. He'd thought she was a calculated and cautious woman—everything had fit so perfectly. But maybe… he had overestimated her.
"It's true I felt cornered," Lucia continued. "At first, I wanted to make your death look like a suicide. That way, my cover wouldn't be in danger. But then I was pressured—time was running out."
So she had been hired by someone else. It was obvious in hindsight, but hearing her confirm it made it real.
"That night, I decided to kill you. But you weren't in your room, so I had to look for you. When I found you, I also witnessed *that encounter*. That's when I decided to improvise."
"I see," Lloyd nodded. Maybe he had overthought some of it, but he'd reached the right conclusion regardless.
"Well, there's another reason you're still alive," Lucia said with a sly grin. "Haven't you figured it out yet, smart boy?"
Lloyd frowned. Was there still more?
Yes—something still didn't add up. Why hadn't his ability detected her malice? Why did she seem so genuine during the day?
Then it clicked.
"Hypnosis," he whispered. Lucia smiled.
"Exactly. Hypnosis—my filthy little magic. The thing that made me the perfect assassin," she said, her tone almost proud. "I use it to erase my own malice and intent. By day, I become someone else entirely. But whenever I receive a letter with the right seal, I wake up again—and I kill freely."
A twisted smile crept across her face, savoring every memory.
"Mmm, so you're the one who killed the mages from the tower," Lloyd deduced. Sebastian had mentioned that case before—and now it all made sense.
Which also meant… the Lucia he knew had nothing to do with the real killer.
"Yes, yes, that was me," she laughed darkly. "It was *so much fun*! I still remember one of those idiots—he was in love with me! The look on his face when I slit his throat… priceless! At first, I hated the idea of killing like this, but it's wonderful! Every time I wake, I get to massacre, and when the sun rises, I sleep again—skipping all the boring parts of life!"
Lloyd swallowed hard. She was a complete psychopath.
"But enough talk," she hissed, and suddenly the air grew heavier. "It's been entertaining, hearing your little story, but it changes nothing. Did you really think knowing would save you? You stupid child—I'm going to kill you."
Lloyd's body trembled uncontrollably. His knees gave way, and fear began consuming him.
"You were so stupid," she sneered, licking the blade of her dagger. "You separated yourself from the only man who could protect you—and all for this pathetic trap."
His heart raced. His chest burned. He could barely breathe.
"You should've hidden when you had the chance. Now… let me enjoy your death."
Lucia's predatory gaze locked onto him as she approached. Lloyd was on his knees, shaking, tears forming in his eyes. Fear had paralyzed him.
She crouched beside him, brushing a hand through his hair as her knife grazed his cheek—a small, deliberate cut.
His tears mixed with the trickle of blood. Then, slowly, she licked it.
Lloyd trembled harder. She was playing with him—like a cat toying with a trapped mouse.
"You're so cute, my little detective," she cooed sweetly, her tone disturbingly gentle. "I'll kill you slowly, okay?"
The blade pressed against his neck.
*Is this it?*
His body screamed. His mind burned. But he refused to give in.
He forced in a breath, eyes wide.
"SEBAAAAS!" he screamed with everything he had.
In that instant, the wardrobe exploded open.
A blur shot forward, slamming into Lucia and knocking her across the room.
"At last, young master," said a calm, powerful voice. "I was finding it quite difficult to hold back from striking that indecent woman."
Sebastian had arrived.