That Unique Monster Who Just Got the 'Consciousness' Passive Skill

Added to the smell of dust and old wood that ruled over the atmosphere, the air unexpectedly scented books and old documents.

There wasn't much furniture, as was the case upstairs. But papers and documents piled on top of creaky shelves, a desk, or directly on the floor, there were. I was told not to mind the disorderly air the place had, but then, there weren't that many papers all around. Still, all whores weren't normally educated the way the owner of the house was. I would have a lot to work on, after I took care of my smooth intrusion inside first.

Neglected. That was the theme of the place. So, naturally, my host sat her guest at a neglected, wobbly coffee table, where I sat on the naked floor that lacked a rug. I didn't come over for a late dinner, but I still received words of apology when the maiden saw to it that I had the most comfortable stay at their house, even in the absence of the one I initially came to trade information about some criminal investigation with. No food or quick snacks for the guest. As I kept repeating to her, I hardly came over for lunch, especially when I was visiting people who lacked enough resources for themselves, so I didn't mind any such "problem," but the young lady was strong to insist that, had her aunt the money, I would have had my fill at her house.

She seemed genuinely caring and not simply polite, so I thanked her.

Her good intentions were enough to fill my stomach.

What the house didn't lack, however, was liquor. Nothing like the fancy wine of the rich parts, but something way more crude and cheap. Imp's tears, the liquor was called. It was basically not worth much of anything, but it still had intoxicating properties.

"Yes, even a young mister like yourself never misses an occasion to drink, when… doing business with colleagues, or something!"

Guests apparently always had to be treated with much care and respect. I already learned that from the old man, when I first met him at his little house, in the woods of Benelloan. Tonight, no food could be served to me. The house had no rations of dry bread or meat, for the guest, but I was still presented with the cheapest liquor there was. Even with my lies, I couldn't exactly be said to have been running some business with some colleagues or something, but I would have accepted anything that was presented to me to play the friendly guest's role anyhow.

After I downed a first glass of imp's tears in one go, the maiden's eyes rounded up; she went in and out of the kitchen again to bring more. As was said by my host, there was no time for me to lose, then. I, or rather, we had some work to get done. As I had told her at the step of her door, I would tell the girl "everything."

That's how I started it: "It makes sense. Your aunt wouldn't give you closure about everything. I will. As I understand it, it is clear that you yourself wish to come forward as a potential witness of the many villainous acts of barbary that have been occurring for the past few weeks, which Mr. Bossyboss strongly suggests are the acts of a criminal organization named the Night Brotherhood."

Around the coffee table, the lady sat in front of me. A glass put in front of her, but she made no efforts to fill it. With anxious, restless fingers, she kept touching it like this and that, rather unsurely. Her kid brother was still around, playing with his soldier toys and stuff by the floor. Briefly, the young lady eyed her boy, then her gaze darted on me. "Y-Yes, I do… want to—"

I cut her short. "Then it's settled." I didn't need her to speak. My eyes fell on her restless fingers again, then her little brother. "A payment for your information will of course be provided." The maiden's anxiety was blown off, her eyes widened with disbelief, and she looked at me as if pleadingly. "All information the people provide to us can and will be useful, after all. Payment is only natural." And that was it. Now that I promised her what she obviously wished for—that is to say, money to feed her family—her anguish turned into elation for a brief moment.

As far as she understood, her aunt had supposedly been involved in a series of heinous crimes committed by the Night Brotherhood. My made-up story wasn't exactly incredible from her perspective. "Oh… Now that you mention it, sir, my aunt might have told me that herself, earlier today."

"...Ah?"

"Y-You seem surprised, sir."

Could the aunt who was supposed to sell me information really be knowledgeable about the thief guild, or anything that could lead me to them?

"Earlier today, she was attacked by a… well, she named them 'some teenage asshole.'" I raised an eyebrow and pressed forward. "She said they were crazy because they just ripped off a piece of her robe before they took off, just like that."

"Ah. I see." No, her aunt just had information about me.

I repeated the name "Night Brotherhood," I noted that she clearly wasn't familiar with the name. Still, when I asked her whether she at least heard the same somewhere, she repeatedly nodded at me with a jerky head and a dead-serious expression.

It was clear that she wanted me to believe she had since it seemed important for her to achieve her purpose. To help her aunt care for her family, the young lady had to earn some coppers. Tonight, a rich young mister who had money kind of proposed to her a job. That was her plan.

But I had a plan, too, and it didn't rely on her selling me information. Her aunt was the one I wanted to interrogate since that was the rule of the game of the criminals' pieces of cloth. After I smoothly got inside my prey's abode, the plan was to search for information inside. Not from any young lady who just so happened to have a need for coppers, but from the documents, papers, and registers I could find here.

So, anyway, I told her everything. Anything I could make up. There was a plan, and I stuck to it. So, I started to feed her with more information about my fake investigation. Added details. And there was the new rule I just added to the game. She had been enough for tonight. Now that I was in, I needed her to be out. I wasn't about to throw her out of her house or anything, but I purposely made it sound as though there was nothing she could help me with in this investigation of Mr. Bossyboss. At any rate, what did she expect? It wasn't like she had any valid information to sell me. I didn't let our "business meeting" last more than fifteen minutes.

(Author'snote:Sorryabouttheshortchaptersthesedays.Alotishappeningformeirl.Nothingdramatic,justhellabusy.)

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