Chapter 8
Rin sat slumped in front of Roman’s bedchamber, waiting for him to come out.
But the door never once opened.
Perhaps having heard about the situation, Olga arrived belatedly and whispered in Rin’s ear.
“It would be best to think of another way, my lady. Once the Second Lord of House Tusslena makes up his mind, not even the Second Wife can enter his chambers. This kind of attempt won’t get you anywhere.”
‘What? He even ignores his own wife?’
Rin shot to her feet in disbelief.
“You should’ve told me that sooner!”
Olga blinked, looking at her strangely.
“Pardon? My lady, you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Yeah, no.
‘I’m not Yana.’
Not having her memories made everything unnecessarily difficult.
Rin glanced down below the window and saw familiar servants busy tending the flowerbeds. If they had any sense, they’d keep today’s events quiet among themselves. Just a minor hassle to deal with and then forget.
Stepping away from Roman’s filthy and disgraceful door, Rin asked Olga:
“Olga, um… was Uncle Roman always frail or sickly?”
“Sickly? Absolutely not. The Lords of House Tusslena are never weak. They’re the Apostles of the Divine, after all.”
“Then what about the greenhouse management rights? Have they been transferred to the Third Lord?”
“No, I don’t believe I’ve heard anything like that.”
Roman had suddenly taken ill in the middle of summer. And despite that, the Second Wife had been gone for two whole days.
‘No wonder something felt off. He’s pretending to be sick just to drag out the dispute over the greenhouse.’
If time passed without a clear resolution, there was a high chance the conflict over management rights would simply fade without conclusion. If that was the case, she had no choice.
‘I’ll steal the Wolfshade fruit again.’
If she stole it twice, Roman wouldn’t be able to stay in bed. He’d be forced to crawl out, no matter what. Still, stealing was what mattered—not getting poisoned in the process.
‘I’ll need Wolfshade Pills.’
Wolfshade Pills were made by mixing dried petals of the Wolfshade flower with honey.
They offered excellent protection for the stomach and could neutralize certain poisons. If taken before consuming the fruit, one would only suffer a brief stomachache and recover quickly.
However, there was one problem—they were illegal.
Unlike the highly toxic fruit, the petals of Wolfshade had potent hallucinogenic properties. As a result, only a select few, certified by the imperial court, were permitted to cultivate it.
That’s why the Second and Third Lords of House Tusslena fought so fiercely over the greenhouse. Owning one filled with poisonous plants was a privilege in itself.
‘Still, it’s not like I can’t get my hands on some.’
Back in the days when the Orbs of Malice ran rampant…
Black-market dealers selling narcotics operated in every alley. House Tusslena’s city was one of the largest in the La Empire, with a massive population and a bustling underworld.
As a mercenary and member of an expeditionary force, Rin had traveled everywhere. She knew better than anyone that, with enough money, anything could be obtained.
After a moment of silent apology to Yana, Rin packed away some jewelry from a box and stepped out of the bedchamber. Strangely enough, Yana’s clothing was simple and modest—no need to change.
‘If I go out through the main gate, they’ll definitely assign guards to me.’
Rin turned to Olga, who had followed her absentmindedly, and asked:
“Olga, is there some kind of back door that the servants use?”
“A back door?”
There was one—indeed, a back door.
It wasn’t even officially in use.
Some distance from the main Tusslena estate stood a decrepit wooden gate. Olga approached it and gave the bottom part a hard kick. Slowly, the lower section shifted, revealing a small opening.
“This is the door the staff sneak out through at night when they go out to have fun… There, it’s open! You can crawl out through here.”
Even in the estate of the Divine’s Apostle, there’s always a rat hole.
“When will you be back, my lady?”
As she crawled out through the opening on her hands and knees, Rin replied:
“Three, maybe four hours at most? If you don’t hear from me by then, tell the elders.”
“Please come back quickly… If they question me, I might spill everything. I’m terrible at lying.”
“I know that better than anyone.”
Olga wasn’t exactly malicious—just a bit dim and completely hopeless when it came to scheming. Maybe that’s why Rin couldn’t truly dislike her.
‘She’s just… like a clueless younger sister.’
With that, Rin continued walking down the path the carriages took, heading toward the bustling marketplace. But all along the way, she couldn’t help being awestruck by the scenery unfolding before her.
Towering buildings packed tightly like a honeycomb.
A train swiftly crossing the river to the west.
And rows of factories lining the riverside.
Thirty years ago, you’d only see such sights in the capital or ports of the La Empire—and even then, only in the most prosperous districts.
‘The world has really changed.’
As she entered the heart of the transformed city, unease began to creep in.
“Hello, miss! We’re the White Moon Troupe, newly formed! Our debut performance is tonight—please come watch!”
“Help me… Please, just one ring… Spare me…”
“Miss, would you like a rose? They’re lovely! One blossom for 3 rings, three for 8 rings!”
There were simply too many people—more than she could handle.
Rin struggled to shake off those clinging to her like leeches, then made her way past the residential areas in search of a more secluded spot.
‘There must be back alleys… even in a place like this.’
Could she still find Wolfshade Pills here? Could she really?
‘Am I just some relic, acting on outdated logic?’
Her worries proved unfounded—the back alleys still existed.
Not far from the plaza, just across a short bridge and down a right turn, an alleyway revealed itself. Rin paused for a moment where the air felt different, then stepped in without hesitation.
The alley was narrow and filthy. The stench of waste clung to the air. It felt like an entirely different world from the bright and lively streets she had just left behind.
‘Even in a changed world, darkness still finds a place.’
The path was a bit convoluted, but… who was she? She was Rin the Pathfinder. A written word, a traveled road, a seen face—once etched into her mind, never forgotten.
She passed by people collapsed in rags, looking more dead than alive, and continued deeper into the alley.
< Pub Golden Bell >
A pub came into view.
‘This place might have what I need.’
Thirty years ago, it was often the pub owners who ran illegal operations—making everything from Wolfshade Pills to healing potions, aphrodisiacs, and narcotics. A place this old and run-down might still be selling.
Creaaaak.
“…Excuse me?”
But inside the pub, not a soul stirred.
“Is anyone here?”
The interior was cluttered and dusty, giving the impression it hadn’t been maintained in ages.
Rin moved past the empty tables and peered behind the bar. Even the kitchen utensils were so caked in dust they’d lost all color, coated in a pale, grey film.
The only clean item in the entire place was a small portrait hanging on the wall.
Seeing the words <Black Prince Helmut> stirred a wave of nostalgia. Back when she was Rin the Pathfinder, this man had been more famous than the emperor himself.
Then—
Creaaak, creak.
She heard faint movement from upstairs. In her former body, she would’ve checked without hesitation.
‘But Yana now… she’s not even fifteen.’
Just in case, she grabbed a kitchen knife. One could never be too careful.
She crept cautiously up the stairs. There was only one door on the second floor. A sign hung on it, bearing these words:
< Pub Owner Sleeping >
‘Seriously? What time does he think it is? Does he even want to run a business?’
Rin opened the door carefully. Inside was a small room with a single bed—and on that bed, a portly man snoring away…
“Spit it out. Where’s the box with the shards of the Orb?”
“Ghk… I am one of… cough the most… discreet blades… I will never talk. I’d rather die…!”
One man sat tied tightly to a wooden chair, being interrogated. Another man held a blade to his throat, threatening him.
Two pairs of eyes turned to look at Rin.
“Uh…”
“…”
“My apologies. I seem to have the wrong room. Please, carry on.”
Rin closed the door—very gently.
Click.
The moment it shut, a cold voice rang out from the room behind her—barely muffled by the paper-thin walls.
“Bring her back.”
