acy, any incurable disease will be cured. 



“It remains to be seen whether the treatment will cure a broken soul, of course.” 



Dian Cecht, along with Mephisto, was called a demi-god.
It must be something at least worth looking forward to.
If only I could find it. 



In this way, I had a long and tiring day, looking for Dian Cecht’s legacy whilst still doing all my tasks as a maid.



It was at midnight of that exhausting day. 



The mind, which was wandering between reality and sleep, suddenly rose sharply. 



“One person.” 



Someone had crept into the bedroom. 



The steps, breaths, the timing.
It was a great infiltration in many terms.
I thought of threatening the other party by attacking him, but held it in.  



Highly trained assassins usually kill themselves when they feel the crisis of not being able to complete their mission coming up.
It was a very bad habit. 



Therefore, it will be difficult to identify the intruder unless I aimed for a loophole. 



“Wake up, Maid.”  



Soon, a sharp blade that cut through the cold air touched right under my chin. 



“If you scream, I’ll cut your throat with this.
Listen with your mouth shut.
Follow my orders if you wish to live.” 



When I opened my eyes calmly, cold blue eyes were staring at me. 



“From today on, you are a spy.
Monitor the movements of Viscount Weatherwoods and report them regularly.” 






“Didn’t you hear me tell you to shut up? This is an order, not a demand.
Like I said, follow my orders if you want to leave.” 



The intruder seemed a bit bewildered when I asked again. 






“You must be half asleep,” he said, before I flicked him on the head. 



 The confused intruder stumbled because of a small flick. 



Not missing any movement, I aimed for the intruder’s mouth and gouged the pill out of his mouth with my fingers. 



A pill ostentatiously fitted inside a molar in the back, otherwise known as the ‘Bite of Mercy.’ 



It was a suicide pill that was usually used by the Assassination or information guild. 






I stuffed a blanket into the mouth of the intruder, who had come to his senses quite quickly. 



 I crushed the man down on the floor and took away all the tools hidden on his body and threw them away. 






A long needle-like blade, a hard dagger, a medicine powder of unknown utility, a leaf shuriken… 



And finally, when I threw away the emergency ‘bite of mercy’ hidden in his sleeve, the fighting spirit completely faded from the intruder’s eyes. 



There was no way to suicide left for him now. 



“Be ready to answer.” 



In despair, the intruder, with his eyes closed, nodded his head.
When I took the blanket out of his mouth, he took a rough breath.  



He moved his lips in utter disbelief. 



“You’re not an ordinary maid.
Who the hell are you?” 






“…I only accepted and took charge of the request that came into the guild.
I don’t know who entrusted the request or why we should monitor Viscount Weatherwood.” 



“What number am I?” 



“As far as I can remember, this is at least the third time this has happened.” 



That meant that at least three maids were threatened in the same way as I was. 



There is only one goal.
To keep an eye on the Viscount Weatherwood. 



“What about the previous maids?”  









“I don’t know.
My role is to take an oath of obedience from the maid.
I’m not involved in anything before or after that.” 



The assassin pointed to a small tack-shaped earring in his right ear. 



Seeing the spiritual energy flowing out, this earring seemed to be a magic tool. 



‘It’s a magic tool to take an oath.’ 



An oath is a promise made with the soul as collateral. 



It was also a taboo magic that was banned a long time ago, because those who broke the rule would die and their souls were destroyed. 



“I can’t believe you forced such a terrible oath upon ordinary maids, and more than three times too?” 



It was certainly strange when I thought about it. 



Although I’ve only worked for a day or two, I know that the Weatherwoods mansion is a bit hard to work at.
But it wasn’t terrible enough job for a series of maids to quit or run away one after another. 



The owner of the house did not show his nose anywhere, the assigned bedroom was spacious and well-furnished, and the daily working hours were observed strictly from 6 am.
To 7 pm. 



Therefore, the maids were more likely to have disappeared, not run away.
Because of reasons other than one’s own choice.  



‘However, there is no Viscount Weatherwood in this mansion.’ 



It was not difficult for me, who’d been on the battlefield for 10 years, to detect other people’s presence.
The Viscount Weatherwood had most certainly vacated this mansion.
That too, for most likely a long time. 



‘If you’ve sent an assassin three times, then the client can’t be unaware of that.’ 



An ownerless mansion. 



A client who constantly monitors such a mansion. 



This mansion is suspicious in many ways. 





heya, I love reading comments on the chapters and they really motivate me to translate at times, so let me know your thoughts on the chapter! ^^

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