Chapter 90: —White Gloves

Capture Julian, the Hidden Master so skilled at faking and acting, then use him as leverage to bring Kina back.

That had been Cessel’s core objective. He didn’t need some brilliant, elaborate plan, this could all be resolved with remarkable ease.

So why should he give up and return to the estate as a failure?

He refused that outcome.

Even if Julian had to be dragged back here dead, Cessel could still make use of that. Just lie about it, right?

With a satisfied smile, Cessel fell asleep peacefully that night, genuinely looking forward to the next morning.

Getting Kina back, restoring his family’s reputation along with his own, proving he was better than his older brother, and finally receiving praise from his father.

He drifted off to sleep with all those hopes.

The next morning, he woke incredibly early, the sun hadn’t even risen yet. All because a servant had woken him up.

"Lord Cessel! Lord Cessel! Please wake up!"

Faced with that jarring shout, Cessel let out an irritated groan, opened his eyes, and, furious, slammed his hand down onto the table sitting right across from his bed.

Baam—!

The blow shattered the table with ease, his expression hardening as he rose, glaring at the servant, who flinched in terror, his face grim.

"Speak. If what you’re about to say turns out to be completely unimportant, don’t expect me to forgive you for this."

"M-my apologies, lord...! B-but, this really is an emergency."

Seeing just how terrified the servant looked, Cessel didn’t think they’d ever have the nerve to disturb him without good reason, so whatever had happened was probably more significant than he’d initially assumed.

"Just tell me."

Without hesitation, the servant, choking back a sob, explained, "I-it’s... out in front of the house, there are countless human heads hung on the iron gate."

"Huh...?" Cessel blinked. "Are you messing with me?"

"No, lord! You need to see it for yourself. Right now, a huge crowd’s already gathered outside."

Cessel threw his blanket aside, quickly rising and rushing out of his room.

"You’d better not be lying to me."

Besides, who exactly would do something like this?

Terrorizing someone from a great family, of all things?

Was the incident exposing their secret about Kina enough to spark this level of public outrage?

Cessel wasn’t sure about that.

So he hurried down to the ground floor of the house, finding several servants peeking through the windows, their faces all draining pale.

That only deepened Cessel’s unease. He pushed the door open, reaching the front yard. That alone was enough for him to see exactly what was happening.

On his home’s iron gate right now hung five severed human heads. Watching the blood, slowly dried, spilled around the iron bars, its color still not faded, was enough for Cessel to understand this had happened only a few hours ago.

’Who did this!?’

His fists clenched tight, his expression hardening as he stepped closer. The closer he got, the louder the voices of neighbors from the surrounding houses became.

But Cessel ignored all of it, continuing forward, pushing open the iron gate, immediately greeted by a crowd of neighbors who’d already been photographing everything happening.

The moment Cessel stepped out, every gaze locked onto him, and every camera immediately turned toward him.

Flashes kept flickering in the dark early morning. The security guards stationed at the house struggled to hold back the crowd’s overwhelming curiosity.

Then, Cessel, deeply uncomfortable, glanced at his gate from outside again, revealing a series of letters carved using the blood of those corpses.

—Who are you, daring to lay your hand on someone far greater than yourself?

That sentence left Cessel completely frozen. He couldn’t manage a single word, and his gaze then landed on one head that looked strangely familiar.

That head, oddly enough, still had a black cloth deliberately fastened around it, as though marking that person’s identity.

And Cessel immediately recognized it.

It was the head of the assassin he’d hired to capture Julian. And now, that head sat right here, impaled and helpless.

Cessel lost his composure for a moment. With everything he was seeing right now, what did it all mean?

His gaze shifted down to the pavement beneath his feet, the small bridge connecting the street outside to his house.

There, another sentence had been written, also in blood.

—Touch him again and your head will be next.

—We’re always watching you.

A clear threat, and the word "We" indicating this wasn’t the work of just one person.

’What is this?’

’What is actually happening here?’

Was he just being told that this so-called Fraud Master actually had backing behind him?

’No way.’

He refused to believe that.

A crooked smile crossed his face, along with a bead of sweat trickling down. He preferred to believe this was just another fabrication.

So, whoever was bold and capable enough to pull off something like this...

’Lurker... he’s really turned into a coward with this whole damn scheme.’

But Cessel could never deny that, with everything happening now, he’d genuinely gotten trapped in their game.

His reputation would likely fall even further.

That’s what Cessel was thinking, right before his entire body froze completely. His gaze locked onto one small line, barely noticeable at all.

It was just one small sentence, and it read:

—White Gloves.

***

Meanwhile, around the same time, Julian could barely sleep that entire night. He was terrified another assassin might come to attack him.

So he chose to stay awake. Especially after meeting that person at Rank-C. Julian had no idea whether that man had genuinely been a friend or possibly just another assassin.

But since that was too much of a risk, he’d decided to flee immediately. Julian had already exhausted his Mana, his body worn out, and he had no energy left to fight again.

"...Besides, who would’ve thought I’d actually manage to create a brand new skill. B-Grade too."

That was an extraordinary haul.

He’d even gained another innate skill. Unfortunately, unlike Unshaken Facade, which was a passive skill, Fearless was an active skill that would drain Julian’s Mana entirely.

But given how extraordinary its effect was, Julian wouldn’t complain about that in the slightest. If anything, Fearless alone felt like hitting the jackpot.

I mean, when else would he receive something capable of erasing every single fear he had, just like that?

This was exactly what Julian genuinely needed.

Julian let out a breath, opening a blank page in the notebook he’d just bought on his way home, moving his pen and beginning to write.

Beyond that... to occupy himself through this quiet, lonely night, Julian thought about writing down the skill he’d just created, turning it into a proper Skill Book.

He was genuinely curious.

"If I give this to Kina, could she actually learn it?"

Because unlike the skill Julian had received from Kina, one he could only use instinctively, Winterfall was fundamentally a skill he’d created himself, based on instinct, but one he’d since adapted and fully understood within his own mind.

If Kina could actually learn this...

That would be genuinely wonderful news.