Journey to Become the Zenith

The Cornered Rat’s Last Bluff (Part 2)

"If Clara discovers you’re the one responsible for everything that happened to her family..."

He paused briefly.

"...I doubt she’ll remain this calm."

The assassin subconsciously swallowed.

His lips had become completely dry.

The image of Clara discovering the truth flashed through his mind.

He remembered the hatred he had seen in her eyes after the tragedy.

If Victor truly handed him over...

Death might become the kindest outcome.

The assassin lowered his eyes.

His breathing remained uneven.

For several long seconds, neither of them spoke.

The lively tavern around them felt strangely distant, as though they were sitting inside a world isolated from everyone else.

Victor slowly picked up his mug and took another relaxed sip before setting it down.

His expression never changed.

It was that calm smile...

That infuriatingly calm smile...

It made the assassin feel even more pressured than if Victor had shouted at him.

Victor tapped a finger lightly against the wooden table.

"You know..."

"I’ve met many people."

"Knights."

"Mercenaries."

"Nobles."

"Bandits."

"Even monsters."

He smiled faintly.

"They all share one habit."

The assassin remained silent.

"When they’re lying..."

"They try far too hard to sound convincing."

The assassin forced out a dry laugh.

"Sir..."

"If you’re trying to frighten me..."

"I’m afraid you’ve chosen the wrong person."

"Oh?"

Victor leaned back comfortably.

"So you’re saying you’re innocent?"

"I am."

Victor nodded thoughtfully.

"Interesting."

Another brief silence followed.

Victor casually looked around the tavern before speaking again.

"The stew here smells pretty good."

The assassin blinked.

"...What?"

"I said the stew smells good."

Victor looked at his untouched bowl.

"You’ve barely eaten any."

The assassin instinctively glanced at his meal.

He hadn’t even realized it.

His spoon had been hovering over the bowl for several minutes.

Victor chuckled.

"A hungry merchant usually finishes his dinner before it gets cold."

"But you..."

He met the assassin’s eyes.

"...haven’t tasted enough to even know whether it’s salty."

The assassin’s fingers tightened.

"I’ve simply lost my appetite."

"Really?"

Victor smiled.

"That’s unfortunate."

The assassin stayed quiet.

Victor continued speaking in the same casual tone.

"I’ve noticed something else."

"When I first entered..."

"You looked at me exactly once."

"After that..."

"You avoided looking at me completely."

The assassin replied calmly,

"Aren’t famous people used to being stared at?"

Victor laughed softly.

"They are."

"But frightened people usually stop looking."

The assassin’s heart skipped.

Victor didn’t give him time to recover.

"You’ve built an impressive identity."

"A merchant."

"Proper documents."

"A rented house."

"Neighbors who know your name."

He nodded approvingly.

"I’ll admit..."

"It almost fooled me."

The assassin’s pupils shrank.

Almost...?

Victor rested both hands on the table.

"If I had relied on ordinary investigations..."

"You probably would’ve succeeded."

The assassin slowly asked,

"Then..."

"...how exactly did I fail?"

Victor’s smile widened.

"I was wondering when you’d ask."

The assassin remained perfectly still.

Victor lowered his voice.

"You remember probing me with your mana?"

Silence.

"I didn’t forget."

"I rarely do."

The assassin’s expression finally changed.

Only for an instant.

But Victor caught it.

"There."

Victor smiled.

"That’s the face I’ve been waiting to see."

The assassin immediately regained control.

"I don’t understand."

Victor ignored the denial.

"When someone releases mana..."

"They leave behind something unique."

"A signature."

"Almost like a fingerprint."

He lightly tapped the table again.

"Your disguise fooled the eyes."

"It fooled ordinary senses."

"But..."

"It couldn’t change your mana."

The assassin’s breathing became heavier.

Impossible...

Mana signatures...

I’ve never heard of anyone capable of that...

Victor calmly continued,

"If you had stayed hidden somewhere far away..."

"You might’ve escaped."

"But you chose to sit only a few meters from me."

He shrugged.

"That was your mistake."

The assassin finally asked,

"...You’re saying..."

"...you recognized me from my mana alone?"

Victor nodded once.

"Exactly."

The assassin lowered his head.

His thoughts descended into complete chaos.

Then disguises are meaningless...

Changing clothes...

Changing identity...

Changing appearance...

None of it matters...

For the first time in years...

He truly felt hopeless.

Victor watched him quietly.

"I’ll give you one piece of advice."

The assassin looked up.

"If you ever had the chance to start over..."

"Don’t rely so much on tricks."

"They eventually fail."

The assassin laughed bitterly.

"Easy for someone like you to say."

Victor raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"You were born strong."

"You don’t need deception."

Victor smiled.

"You’ve misunderstood."

"I wasn’t born like this."

"I simply stopped making excuses."

The assassin stared at him.

For some reason...

Those simple words hit harder than the earlier threats.

Victor folded his arms.

"Now..."

"Let’s stop pretending."

"You know who I am."

"I know who you are."

"There’s no point wasting either of our time."

The assassin slowly exhaled.

His shoulders visibly relaxed.

The act...

Had become meaningless.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

"...If I tell you who hired me..."

"...will you let me go?"

Before Victor answered, the assassin hurriedly continued.

"I’ll also remove the curse I placed on Clara’s little sisters."

"They’re still sleeping because of me."

"If I die..."

"The curse dies with me."

He searched Victor’s face desperately.

"Without me..."

"They’ll remain trapped forever."

The assassin knew this was the strongest card left in his hand.

It wasn’t entirely a lie.

He truly was the only one capable of removing the curse quickly.

If Victor wanted to save the girls...

Surely he would hesitate.

Surely...

Victor would negotiate.

Victor looked at him quietly for several seconds.

Then he suddenly chuckled.

One chuckle became another.

Soon he was laughing openly again.

"Hahaha..."

He reached toward a passing waitress.

"Another mug, please."

"Of course, Sir Victor."

A fresh mug of ale was placed before him.

Victor lifted it and emptied nearly half of it in one long drink.

Only then did he wipe the foam from his lips and smile.

"I think..."

"...there’s been a misunderstanding."

The assassin’s heartbeat quickened.

Victor leaned slightly forward.

"We’re not negotiating."

His smile remained warm.

"But his golden eyes had become completely emotionless.

"No matter what you offer..."

"...you die today."

The assassin froze.

Victor continued calmly,

"I’m simply giving you the privilege..."

"...of choosing how you die."