Chapter 2
"A duke? Me?"
The words spoken by the woman who introduced herself as Mist were beyond anything I could comprehend.
Even a back-alley bum knows how high-ranking the position of duke is.
And she was just going to hand that position over to me?
...
I slowly drew on the cigar between my lips.
I needed to stay calm.
The citrus-scented cigar soothed my wildly pounding heart.
The cigar smoke scattered into the air as I looked at the woman before me, who was still bowing her head in respect.
"Follow me for now."
This was the time to think.
Blindly believing what she'd said would be something only a madman would do, especially when her words included so many strange claims.
'The only one?'
It was a ducal house.
And not just any ducal house—it was the family known as the ruler of the underworld, involved in all sorts of illegal activities.
And I was the only bloodline left in such a family?
Ridiculous.
It was so absurd that I was practically speechless.
Who would believe something like that?
But surely not everything she said was a lie.
There couldn't possibly be someone reckless enough to dare impersonate the Nebla family's name.
So this was a lure.
She was taking me somewhere that could serve as a hideout, where I could withstand an ambush even if she had companions waiting besides herself.
With that, I turned around and started walking toward my home.
Before long, the sound of a woman's heels reached me from behind.
It was a cigar I would normally have smoked leisurely for more than thirty minutes, but between the battle and hearing something beyond common sense, I had burned through it far too quickly.
"Tsk..."
I put the remaining butt into the portable ashtray I carried with me, swallowed a sigh, and continued walking.
***
Her sharp eyes glinted as she followed behind Abel as though escorting him.
'Excellent.'
Everything about the way he had handled things and accepted the situation so far exceeded her standards for a passing grade.
He had neither stepped forward recklessly nor become agitated; instead, he was calmly observing the situation.
Look at him now.
Even while turning his back and walking ahead, he had not lowered his guard.
A sidelong glance.
Keeping her face still, Mist moved only her eyes and looked at the extremely faint smoke that had somehow already wrapped around her wrist.
Even for an ordinary mana awakener, smoke that had wrapped around her wrist so stealthily was remarkable.
This smoke was probably that man's ability.
It was an ability that even she, an elite assassin raised by the Nebla family, might have overlooked if she let her guard down.
...
Her expressionless face cracked, and a chilling smile briefly crossed it.
Another sidelong glance.
But when the man who would become her master gave her a look, she regained her impassive expression as though nothing had happened.
'If he is this capable...'
It might be possible. No—not merely possible. He was more than qualified.
How many illegitimate children had she met by now?
Nebla blood ran thick. Extremely thick.
That was why it never truly deteriorated, even when mixed with commoner blood.
Many of the things she had told Abel were lies.
The sole bloodline?
What a convenient lie that was.
This was a trap.
If he could not recognize a trap this obvious and regain his composure, he would never be able to bear the weight of the Nebla family.
Intrigue, ambushes, poison, and all sorts of political pressure.
If he became head of the house, he would have to endure these things—and many more. If he could not even recognize a trap like this...
'Impossible.'
Yes, impossible. Any weakling she brought back like that would merely be swallowed by the Nebla family.
What they wanted was someone with the makings of a head who could lead the family, not a beggar who would be led around by the family's power.
This was something everyone in the family had agreed on, despite the dangerous situation the Nebla family was currently in.
The head of the house was on the verge of death.
The direct descendants had followed the Nebla family's motto, turning against one another as if intent on killing each other, and ultimately annihilating themselves.
Even if they searched for someone who was not a direct descendant, the Nebla family had no collateral branches by its very nature.
How could a family ruling the underworld expand its collateral branches? Dividing its power instead of concentrating it would be foolish.
Because of that tradition, the only way out of the current situation was to find the children of people who did not know they belonged to the Nebla family's collateral line, or illegitimate children of the direct line.
'...'
When she thought of the other illegitimate children she had met before Abel, her brow furrowed with displeasure.
A man so crazed by lust that he tried to throw her down the moment he saw her.
A narrow-minded man consumed by suspicion and paranoia, who tried to kill her before even hearing what she had to say.
A weakling who had failed to awaken his power and was eventually assassinated.
A servile man who tucked his tail and obeyed the moment she introduced herself as a servant of a ducal house.
They had been nothing but a collection of unpleasant people.
No matter how urgent the situation was, she could not bring trash into the family.
The Nebla family demanded many different qualities.
Reason, boldness, strength, and even the ability to see through a situation.
'The assassinations were part of that.'
One year.
The period during which Abel had encountered assassins and survived their attempts.
This had been a covert test conducted by the Nebla family.
Assassinations with no apparent connection and wildly varying levels of skill placed extreme stress on their target.
The target had to survive under that stress, meet the family's elite assassin at the end, hear the family's story, and earn a passing grade.
Everything they had done so far had been part of the test.
'Now, then.'
Mist looked at Abel and smacked her lips.
Having remembered every word he had spoken and everything he had done so far, she reached one conclusion.
The title of duke was not an attractive option to Abel at all.
The way he had pressured her at the end, as if he intended to kill her after she introduced herself as a servant of a ducal house, had convinced her.
'What should I do?'
What could she offer Abel to bring him to the Nebla family?
Giving up was not an option.
An individual this fully formed was rare.
Strength, reason, the ability to control his emotions, and finally, the caliber of a man like Abel, prepared to cut down even a ducal house if it opposed him.
Everything was perfect.
'Hmm. This is difficult.'
Mist watched Abel walk away, his gray hair fluttering like smoke, and licked her lips.
***
Oh, my house.
My house was finally beginning to come into view.
I had finally arrived at my own hideout on the second floor of a building—something like a studio apartment, in terms of my previous life.
A sidelong glance.
As I did so, I looked at Mist, who was following behind me like an escort.
A man who looked like a commoner, followed by a neat maid?
...
How many looks had we received on the way here?
If gazes had possessed physical force, my body might have been riddled with holes by now.
Creak.
After swallowing a sigh, I opened the door to my home and stepped inside, where a very familiar space greeted me.
Though it was a small studio apartment, a one-person sofa with a desk beside it and cigar boxes filling one entire wall welcomed me home.
"Go ahead and sit wherever."
I unfolded the folding chair I had kept beside the door in case a guest ever came by and gestured for her to sit. Then I leaned back into the sofa naturally, as though I were pretending to be perfectly normal.
"Thank you."
"It's nothing... Ah, would you mind if I smoked a cigar?"
As I said that, I opened the cigar box beside the sofa and lit a cigar.
Smoke began to fill my home little by little.
"I've been thinking."
I said it while affecting a languid gaze. In a conversation like this, momentum mattered.
"I think you lied to me..."
Instead of exhaling the smoke in my mouth, I simply let it flow downward.
Without letting her notice, I let the power-laden cigar smoke spread across the floor.
"How about we have an honest conversation?"
I raised one leg and crossed it over the other.
"The sole one? What a ridiculous story."
What, did she think this world was a romance fantasy? That I was the only bloodline left of a ducal house?
It was impossible from a common-sense perspective.
It made no sense that there were no illegitimate children left, let alone collateral branches.
Therefore, Mist's claim that she would serve me as the head of the ducal house as its 'sole survivor' was a lie.
"Why don't we speak frankly?"
Oh, and there was one thing I hadn't mentioned.
"It'll be pretty difficult to leave this place."
She had probably guessed the general nature of my ability by now.
But here's the thing.
"My ability is to manipulate all the smoke I exhale. Its shape, size, and hardness vary according to how much mana I infuse into it, and the smoke I exhale is invisible to anyone who hasn't awakened mana. Well, it's quite a good ability."
There was another purpose behind explaining my ability myself.
[You have revealed your ability.]
[You have explained your ability in greater detail.]
[Your opponent has become certain of your ability. Ability manifestation power and destructive power increased.]
The bizarre status window that had been following me for a long time.
Its function was simple.
"Why am I explaining this? Because I have another ability. Whenever I give my opponent some benefit through my own words, my ability grows stronger."
[You have revealed your fundamental ability.]
[A super bonus is applied to every action when using your ability.]
Rumble.
Every wisp of smoke filling the room began to resonate harshly, as though each one possessed a will of its own.
Even an elite knight would have trouble not only escaping this place but surviving in it.
"Well then, shall we have a talk?"
The faint smoke spread across the floor began to aim itself at her like the teeth of a monster.
"For the record, if you lie, I'll take your head."
My voice dropped low, like a predator's growl.
Rumble.
As if resonating with my voice, the smoke around us began to thrash once again.