Chapter 42: Sleepless Night (6)

The dance hosted by the Dardaniel family at the Silent Island Hotel was drawing to a close.

Brian Dardaniel, the patriarch of the family, stood with a polite smile, bidding farewell to each guest.

"The Dardaniel family thanks you for your presence. We look forward to seeing you again."
"I hope you had a wonderful evening!"
"Safe travels!"

Count Derby Anfleet, the lord of Royo City, approached Dardaniel and said, "The time has come for me to depart. Before I go, I must say: congratulations, the Dardaniel family has an outstanding heir."

"I am deeply grateful for your praise. I apologize that Cisse is currently occupied with some alchemical matters and cannot see you off personally."

"It is of no consequence; I understand completely."

Ockham Dodge of the Dodge Trading Firm, Viscount Ladour of the Bavaria family, and others also offered their parting words to Brian Dardaniel.

"Please convey my regards to your heir. The Dodge Trading Firm is delighted with our collaboration."
"On behalf of the Bavaria family, I offer our most sincere greetings to the Dardaniel family. We wish young Master Cisse all the best."

As the guests departed one by one, it was clear that for this evening—at least as far as this ball was concerned—the Dardaniel family had achieved a resounding success.

However, regarding the covert operation currently underway, there had been no news thus far.

As the crowd thinned, Hodin whispered into Dardaniel's ear, "Our people have sent word. Huey has taken Bogel away. It has been nearly half an hour."

"Didn't he say he had absolute certainty that he could eliminate anyone below the Sanctuary realm in a short time during a one-on-one confrontation?" Brian Dardaniel frowned.

"Yes, that is what he said. But reality is rarely so accommodating. The halo of a powerhouse is not painted on with oil; it is earned with the blood and corpses of enemies. It seems things have not gone as smoothly as Huey anticipated."

"I hope he returns alive. Otherwise, all this success is merely illusory and meaningless. In fact, if he does not return within the next half hour, I may have to prepare to flee."

"I believe in him."

"Oh?"

Hodin said calmly, "If a man intends to oppose a nation and cannot even handle a sixth-tier mage, then he is merely a delusional lunatic. Clearly, Huey is not."

Not far away, a carriage pulled up to the entrance of the Silent Island Hotel. As Lasher stepped out, Dardaniel frowned. "Why has he returned?"

"It seems he is checking to see if our young Master Cisse is present," Hodin replied.

"Damn it!" Dardaniel stamped his foot. He turned and whispered to Rellesa, "Go to Huey’s room immediately and tell them to be ready. Our Lord Lasher is truly a troublesome character."

Stepping from the carriage, Lasher wore a warm, enthusiastic smile. He approached Dardaniel.

"I apologize, Mr. Dardaniel. Leaving a ball without saying goodbye is quite impolite, but unfortunately, I had no choice. Out of respect for the Dardaniel family, I returned the moment I resolved my business. I hope to demonstrate my apologies through actions rather than hollow words."

"I have heard some rumors about what happened in the city tonight. Truly dreadful—the demon Huey Grel appeared in Royo City, is that right?"

"Yes."

"I hope you have already caught him."

"We haven't yet, but rest assured, we will capture him soon. No one can escape the Empire's pursuit," Lasher said with a grin. Dardaniel shrugged dismissively. "I certainly hope so."

"Then..." Lasher drew out the word, glancing around. "May I offer my farewells to young Master Cisse? As it happens, one of my guards is still with him, playing cards. I hope he hasn't lost too much to him."

"Is that so? I wasn't aware of that. Barnett, take Mr. Lasher to see the young master."

"Certainly, Patriarch." Hodin smiled at Lasher. "Please follow me, Mr. Lasher."

As they walked through the spacious ballroom toward Huey's quarters, Lasher and Hodin engaged in idle, disjointed chatter.

"Mr. Barnett, may I ask how long you have served the Dardaniel family?" Lasher asked, seemingly offhandedly.

"Oh, it has been quite some time."

"Judging by your speech and the way others perceive you, it is clear you are a man of letters. It is hard to imagine a maritime trading family like the Dardaniels possessing a butler as erudite as you."

"Indeed, the Dardaniel family does not have a tradition of scholarship, but for that very reason, they have a profound respect for those who are learned. I believe that is why I chose the Dardaniels; here, I find things I could not find elsewhere. You know, money is not the only reason one chooses to serve."

"True. Often, our motivation stems from interest. Take me, for instance; the sense of accomplishment I derive from capturing cunning criminals is incomparable."

"And what if you fail to capture him?"

"Then I shall continue to try. Success that comes too easily lacks true satisfaction, does it not?"

"Mr. Lasher, I must admit you are a very wise man."

"Compared to your family's young master, I feel I am far behind. He is the true genius."

"Yes, he is indeed gifted, but he is young and lacks experience. Some things cannot be replaced by talent alone."

"Which is why he needs an outstanding person like you to assist him."

"I do what I can."

"It is clear he respects you, perhaps even more than his own patriarch."

"Do not say that, Mr. Lasher. The patriarch has simply been deeply hurt by the loss of his brother and no longer wishes to manage affairs."

"Perhaps he should hand the family over to Master Cisse to manage now."

"Oh, there must be a transition period. One cannot rush these things."

"True," Lasher muttered softly. "One cannot rush these things."

These two were a study in contrasts: one, an old fox skilled at calculation, every sentence a trap; the other, the world’s foremost con artist, equally adept at psychological manipulation, slippery as a fish, leaving no handles to grasp.

In the contest of detecting lies, the burden usually falls heavier on the one trying to discern them. Thus, in this probe, Lasher gained nothing. Hodin effortlessly neutralized every attempt to extract information, much to Lasher's frustration.

Crossing the hall, they reached a long corridor leading to the drawing room and the bedroom.

"Let us check the drawing room first," Hodin suggested.

"I have no objections," Lasher replied.

Just then, a girl appeared at the end of the corridor. Seeing Lasher, her eyes lit up. "Oh, Mr. Lasher! So this is where you are. I have been looking for you everywhere!"

She walked toward him. It was Sandy, the girl who had asked Lasher for a dance. Lasher felt a flicker of awkwardness.

"Oh, Sandy, I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you had already left."

"I couldn't find you. You vanished after we danced a few times. Oh, Mr. Lasher, how could you just abandon a lady like that? It’s so impolite!"

Hodin’s eyes twinkled with mirth.

"I am very sorry, Sandy," Lasher said helplessly.

"I don't care. I want compensation."

"Compensation? What kind of compensation?"

"I want you to dance a few more rounds with me."

"Now?"

"Yes, right now."

"That won't do; the ball is over."

"Then spend some time alone with me. Are you unwilling? Or do you dislike me, Mr. Lasher?" The girl’s voice was filled with a tender, lingering affection, like a daughter meeting her father.

"Oh, of course not, but I have business to attend to."

"What business?"

Hodin immediately interjected, "Mr. Lasher wishes to bid the young master farewell. But I don't think that is urgent. You two could find somewhere to spend some time, and I can go notify the young master."

Lasher took a long breath. He looked at the girl's "innocent" eyes and "naive" expression, then at Hodin's grinning face. Finally, he nodded helplessly. "Fine, Mr. Hodin. You win."

That admission felt like a needle pricking Hodin's heart. His smile remained unchanged, but he bowed politely to Lasher. "Very well, then."

With that, he headed toward the end of the passage. Watching Hodin’s back, a cold glint flashed in Lasher's eyes, his lips curling into a knowing smile.

Lasher never believed in free lunches. If one appeared, it was surely poisoned. If Sandy’s earlier invitation had been a way for a young girl to avoid harassment, her current obsession felt like the scent of a conspiracy.

He had a feeling that even though Cisse Dardaniel had invited him, he didn't truly want any deep contact. He couldn't forget the look in Huey Grel’s eyes just before the teleportation array activated—filled with confidence, mystery, and an unfathomable depth. He possessed a temperament rarely seen in a youth, devoid of the immaturity one would expect. It was as if an adult soul inhabited a boy's body. He had only ever felt that kind of aura in one other person: Cisse Dardaniel.

"Mr. Lasher, you are daydreaming again," Sandy whispered, a hint of playful reproach in her tone.

On a small balcony outside the ballroom, Sandy gripped Lasher’s hand, her eyes filled with tenderness.

Lasher apologized, "I am sorry, Sandy. You see, I am getting on in years, and I have forgotten how to care for the young ladies around me. For decades, I have been alone. I mean, I am used to solitude."

"Perhaps you should find a companion."

"No, a man like me is not suited for companionship," Lasher shook his head.

"Why?"

Lasher smiled, gently pulling Sandy into his arms, and whispered, "Because men like me are naturally suspicious of any woman who shows us kindness. I might even... hurt them."

Sandy’s expression changed instantly. Lasher pressed a finger firmly to the back of her neck, and she slumped into unconsciousness with a soft moan.

Gently laying her on the ground and covering her with his coat, Lasher murmured, "My apologies, little one. I hope you have a pleasant dream."

Peering through the balcony curtains, he noticed no one was around. He moved stealthily through the passage. The drawing room was quiet, empty of people. Even the servants were nowhere to be found. He noticed someone lying on a sofa nearby—it was Baily, reeking of alcohol.

"Damn fool."

He was drunk. What did he think he was here for? Lasher turned and headed toward the bedroom. He approached the door on tiptoe, pressing his ear against it to listen. Inside, a man and a woman were speaking.

"How is it going?"
"He didn't take the bait."
"That's bad. If he finds out, we'll be in trouble."
"Perhaps we should step up the act. Regardless, we must buy the young master enough time."
"I'll think of something else."

The voices were filled with anxiety. A flash of insight hit Lasher. He pulled a communication crystal from his cloak and whispered, "Chaklay, prepare to gather men to surround this place. I think I have found Huey Grel’s lair."

He stowed the crystal, kicked the door open, and shouted, "I think there is no need for you to waste any more effort!"

The next moment, he froze.

Hodin and Lilith were sprawled on the floor. In front of them lay a large meaty bone. They were staring at a wardrobe, where a furry shadow was seen darting in the gap beneath. A pair of large, dark, wary eyes peered out. Hodin and Lilith were talking while calling out, "Hey, baby, come out, come out now."

Lasher’s sudden entry made them both look up in astonishment.

"Mr. Lasher?" Hodin asked, surprised. "How did you get in here?"

Lilith shouted indignantly, "Who is this? This is incredibly rude! How can you barge in without knocking? And what were you talking about just now?"

Lasher was stunned. "Ah! I am terribly sorry... I think I have the wrong room. I was looking for young Master Cisse to say goodbye. It seems... I am deeply sorry."

"Are you looking for me?" The bathroom door opened, revealing the upper half of Cisse Dardaniel—he was shirtless, a towel wrapped around his head.

"Master Dardaniel?" Lasher’s face broke into a smile of pleasant surprise. "So you were here all along! You know, I have been looking for you."

"I just finished bathing and was planning to give my sister’s dog a bath, but the little guy hates it. He never cooperates. He always hides in places we can't reach, getting himself filthy as if he'd lose money otherwise," Huey replied with a smile, adjusting his glasses. "Hey, Barnett, haven't you coaxed him out yet? I have the hot water ready."

Lilith snapped, "He was about to come out, but this rude man burst in and scared him back inside! Cisse, where did you find such uncouth, ill-mannered friends?"

Huey looked at Lasher, his eyes questioning.

Lasher spread his hands. "Ah, I am sorry. Truly, I apologize for my intrusion. I was merely planning to play a joke. I shall take my leave now."

He hurried out of the bedroom. Behind him, he heard Lilith’s angry roar: "Cisse, you must remember that the Dardaniel family is striving to become high nobility; you must observe etiquette! As the heir, you cannot associate with such unrefined people! It will ruin our reputation and destroy all our hard work. As your sister, I will not allow you to associate with people like him again!"

Damn it! Lasher stamped his foot in frustration. He quickly pulled out the communication crystal. "Chaklay, call off the operation. Wait for me to come down."

Back in the drawing room, Lasher grabbed the drunken Baily and growled, "You idiot, you’ve made a fool of me!" He dragged him out by the collar.

The image in the crystal ball ended only when Lasher boarded his carriage.

"He is gone," Huey said coldly. He put away the crystal and pulled the towel from his head, revealing his golden hair.

Stepping out of the bathroom, Huey wore only shorts, revealing scars on his thighs—remnants of the fierce battle. Beneath the wardrobe, Xu darted out and leaped into Huey’s arms. The creature was half-black and half-white, the result of the potion not being fully applied.

"I will go check on Sandy," Hodin said. "Lilith, take care of Huey. He has just been through a series of grueling battles and needs someone to look after him."

"Understood," Lilith replied.

Hodin left, leaving Lilith and Huey alone. Looking at his wounds, she was silent for a moment before asking, "Was it difficult?"

"There are always unforeseen variables. A perfect operation is fifty percent planning and fifty percent improvisation and luck. We should be grateful we survived the first pass," Huey answered calmly.

"Will Lasher believe us?" Lilith began applying a top-tier ointment to his wounds, which would help erase the scars.

"No." Contrary to Lilith’s expectations, Huey shook his head. "Lasher will still suspect me, suspect us. In this matter, there is nothing we can do."

"Why? I thought it was a marvelous performance."

"Yes, it was excellent. But Lasher is also an excellent hunter. Do you know what a good hunter relies on to catch prey?" Huey asked.

Lilith thought for a moment. "Rich experience."

"And keen intuition," Huey added. "Two essential abilities. We can deceive a hunter’s eyes and ears, rendering his experience useless, but we cannot deceive his intuition. It is an instinct for danger, a natural scent for prey. No matter what we do, we cannot mask that. Even if I performed perfectly, Lasher would still be suspicious."

"Doesn't that mean everything we did was useless?"

"No, how could it be? You see, an experienced hunter may have keen intuition, but they rely more on experience. They don't act solely on instinct. Intuition provides direction, but not the strategy or plan. For a hunter, intuition is like the eyes, and experience is like the feet. Intuition helps him see what he wants to see, and experience helps him reach what he is looking for."

Huey smiled. "Lasher's eyes are still working, seeing what he wants to see, but his feet are uncontrollably heading in a different direction. He keeps walking forward, yet his gaze is always fixed behind him. The result? Eventually, he will hit a wall."

Lilith giggled. "That’s a funny metaphor, Huey."

"I'm glad you like it," Huey said softly. "Regardless, Lasher took the bait. From now on, I have every reason to avoid him, preventing further slips. Thank you, Lilith. You were wonderful."

It was the first time Lilith had received a direct compliment from Huey, and she felt overwhelmed.

"The headstrong, self-righteous young lady?" she asked.

Huey nodded, smiling. "Yes, exactly. The headstrong young lady... you played the role perfectly."

Lilith laughed, embarrassed. They locked eyes, and in that moment, all their previous grievances and awkwardness vanished.

Huey then dragged Bogel out from under the bed. The once-glamorous archmage, now wearing a magic-suppression ring, bound hand and foot, with a rag stuffed in his mouth, was now Huey’s captive.

Looking at the terrified Master Bogel, Huey’s lips curled into a triumphant smile.

"Have a good dream, Master Bogel. This might just be your final night."