Chapter 60.1: Refrigon (6)

A large intelligence organization headquartered in Mahea, Nolhave. Chief Dersan's office.

"What's going on? Why did you return in a hurry?"

Dersan, who was half lying on the sofa and chewing a cookie, looked at the man and asked sarcastically.

The other closed the door and entered the room and sat down opposite Dersan with a sign of urgency.

"Brother, I think I've figured out something great."

"···What? What kind of bullshit are you talking about suddenly?"

"I'm not joking, so get up and listen carefully. Do you know the unknown potion shop in the alley of 1st Avenue east of the city?"

Dersan frowned at what this guy said out of the blue and got up.

"Unnamed potion shop? I don't know. Why?"

"Its owner is an old man named Pleon.

The man held out some sheets of paper on the desk.

Dersan picked it up and glanced over it.

His eyes slowly widened as he skimmed the contents with an annoyed face.

After rummaging through the paper for a while with his forehead furrowed, he asked softly with a serious expression on his face.

"…Is this real?"

"Then do you think I'm lying?"

This was what the man investigated.

A few months ago, a person named Horden, who runs a small inn, fell ill with an incurable disease.

That he was suddenly cured of a disease that could only be cured by paying a large sum to an excellent mage specializing in treatment was suspicious enough.

The man who found out about it while investigating other things, out of curiosity, investigated things lightly.

The person who stood out in the process was Pleon, the owner of an unknown shop.

The man who judged that it was Pleon who cured the inn owner's illness, conducted an investigation into the other this time.

A person who settled in Mahea at least a year ago.

In fact, there was not much noticeable information related to him, and the investigation, which started out of curiosity and whim of a moment, could be stopped there.

It was pure coincidence that the man then came up with a vain idea.

Because the disappearance of Gulpiro, the great alchemist of Santea, who had made a lot of noise on the continent in recent years, was also about a year ago.

It was just an interlocking of times that could be a coincidence.

However, the man continued his investigation into Pleon, even though it was hopeless.

And, to his surprise, he found circumstances that added confidence to the absurd assumption.

The most definitive among them was the information about the appearance of Gulpiro.

Unlike Gulpiro, who had a green beard and hair, Pleon's appearance was orange hair and beard, but during the investigation, it was revealed that it was dyed.

The man had dug up testimony from a few people who knew that Pleon's beard and hair were green when he first came to the city.

Unless one was trying to avoid being seen by someone, why would an alchemist who was good enough to cure incurable diseases run such a small potion shop and even changed the color of his hair and beard?

So the man was almost convinced that the real identity of Pleon was Gulpiro, the great alchemist who had fled from Santea.

"···"

Dersan rubbed his chin and silently scanned the paper repeatedly.

After not responding for a long time, the man said, seemingly a bit frustrated.

"Even with circumstantial evidence, this is almost 100 percent, brother."

"···Yes, that's right."

"Is there still something to worry about? Let's report it to the Sixth Lord."

Dersan frowned at the man's words.

The two were vampires from the Leocell Mountains, like the Sixth Lord, the Tyrant.

When he went out into the world to slaughter and destroy his tribe, Dersan was one of the tribesmen who followed him.

At first, he could still raise the number one intelligence organization in the territory, relying on the halo of the Tyrant, but now, that was just the glory of the past.

It was because the Tyrant's interest in them gradually waned, and annoying rival organizations appeared one by one, and even the officials of the territory were slowly poking at the organization while monitoring them.

"Are you the only one who knows of this information?"

In response to Dersan's question, the man replied as if it was something obvious.

"Yeah, my subordinates did the investigations, but I put it all together…"

The man who was talking to him shut his mouth.

And looked at Dersan with a hardened face. There was suspicion in his eyes.

"Sleep···"

Hwaak!

Blood-colored flames rose in the air and covered the man's body in an instant. And then it disappeared without leaving a trace. Including the man's body.

Looking at the place where the man had just stood, Dersan clicked his tongue.

"You idiot, do you think the Sixth Lord still has any remaining interest in us?"

Even the few remaining tribes from his homeland were meaningless to him, someone who was gradually becoming a demon out of the box.

Even if it was in the past, there was nothing they could offer that the Tyrant would like. Dersan knew the other well.

Dersan, who casually killed his step-brother who had been with him for several decades, showed only a slight sign of pity, and immediately stood up.

A great alchemist from Santea who created an elixir.

The only way to be sure was to visit him in person.

The man said that the only person who knew about this was him, but there may be other members of the organization who noticed something during the investigation. So he had to hurry.

His eyes flashed with excitement and greed.