189 Right Tool for the Job

Given that the unprecedented incident of the 400-million-won notebook he'd quietly left at home vanishing, Ian couldn't stay sane either. He ransacked the house from top to bottom in search of the notebook.

But all he found was the dust left behind by the previous owner. He couldn't find even a shred of tissue, let alone the notebook. At least he was lucky enough not to find any bugs.

“Haah…….”

In the end, Ian sat limply on the living room sofa and let out a long sigh.

It really was the sort of thing even a ghost would cry out over. The notebook didn't have legs, so how could something he'd neatly tucked away just disappear overnight?

If there were any signs of a break-in, he could trace them, but he couldn't find anything of the sort. Unless it had literally evaporated, there was no explanation.

'A notebook made from materials gathered in hell... did it return to hell the moment it was completed...? Or was Pleas the scammer...?'

Two plausible hypotheses came to mind, but neither felt like “the one.”

If it had returned to hell, then why had the notebook remained on Earth intact even while Faust was using it? Shouldn't it have gone back long ago? As for saying it returned to Earth after Faust's death, he couldn't think of any particular reason that would have caused that.

After all, Faust hadn't died of natural causes—he'd been torn to pieces by a devil. Ian didn't know the name of the devil he'd contracted with, but there was no reason at all for that devil to leave a notebook capable of traveling between hell and Earth lying around unclaimed. Why wouldn't it keep such a valuable item...