“Boss!”

Oh no!

Inside her room, Inanna quickly clapped her little hand over her mouth.

She tiptoed to the door, pressed her ear against it, and listened for a long moment. Hearing no footsteps outside, she finally exhaled in relief.

She had been so happy to receive the letter that she’d accidentally shouted aloud…

The contents were simple enough: he wanted to trade an S-rank crystal as payment.

In exchange, he sought information from the Relic Association about the Amethyst Dungeon.

There was no signature—but in the corner was a tiny doodle of a pink Puji.

There were only a handful of people who knew about his mushroom form. And among them, who else but Boss could casually send out an S-rank crystal? Certainly not the members of the Silver Thorn squad.

And the return address? Yafeng Town, right beside the Amethyst Dungeon.

Who else could it be but Boss?

Which meant… Boss had come up to the surface?

Or at least reached the upper floors.

That “Puji” Calvin had mentioned appearing on the fifth floor was most likely him.

This letter must have been written on Boss’s behalf!

As for why he wanted dungeon intel—well, wanting to understand one’s surroundings better was only natural.

She wanted so badly to rush to the Amethyst Dungeon right this moment and find him.

But she wasn’t allowed to leave.

She wanted to dig through the archives for information to help him.

But she wasn’t allowed to leave…

Eric only said that because of the hero summoning, the political climate was unstable, so she was forbidden to go out.

But when would the restriction lift? He hadn’t said.

What should she do?

Inanna hugged her knees on her bed, rocking back and forth for a long while, but no solution came.

“At least… I can write him a reply first.”

——

Eric glanced at the letter Inanna had handed him, her face caught between joy, apology, and expectation.

He lowered his gaze to the envelope.

The recipient: Dylan Srik.

A man’s name.

“I understand, my lady. I’ll have it sent tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Uncle Eric!”

When she left, Eric lingered, looking again at the sealed letter.

Opening a young lady’s mail behind her back was unthinkable.

But… Dylan, was it?

It seemed necessary to investigate just who this man was—someone willing to send such a precious gift.

No schemer must be allowed to entangle the young lady.

——

The duke’s estate wasn’t far from Yafeng Town.

So within a few days, Dylan had Inanna’s reply in his hands.

And of course, he read it himself.

Anywhere else, a subordinate daring to open a letter addressed to their boss would be a death wish.

But things were different here.

His boss couldn’t read. He would have had to read it aloud anyway.

He carefully tucked the letter away.

It seemed Boss’s commission would take more time than expected.

With that, only Bella’s trail remained to be handled.

Braving drizzle and mud, Dylan made his way toward the part of town still lying in ruins.

That was where the brokers liked to nest—in damp, shadowy corners.

After ten minutes, he ducked into a half-collapsed structure that could barely be called standing.

The reek of mildew rose through the cracks in the warped table.

The information dealer lounged on a tilted barrel, legs crossed.

After pocketing the final gold coin, he tossed out a sheet of yellowed papyrus.

On it, a few hasty strokes recorded the “information” he was selling.

“This is what you call intel?”

Ten seconds later, Dylan slammed the paper back onto the rotten tabletop.

“‘Only know she went to the Isles’?

No reason, no location, no current status—you’ve got nothing!

You trying to play me?”

The dealer slowly scraped at the grime beneath his fingernails with a dagger. In the lamplight, its edge gleamed with reddish rust.

“My esteemed customer—or should I call you Dylan?

You must realize, even confirming she went to the Isles took us tremendous effort.

As for the finer details… oh, they exist. But…”

The sly curl of his mouth told Dylan everything.

So he had learned not only about Bella, but about Dylan’s connection to her. He was dangling the bait to squeeze more out of him.

Since Yafeng Town’s reconstruction, all sorts of riffraff had crept in.

In the past, intelligence peddlers here had more rules than this.

Dylan’s veins bulged with fury, but at last he ground his teeth and asked:

“How much?”

The man’s filthy sleeve flicked as he held up two fingers.

“Two gold?”

“Twenty gold.”

“Why don’t you just rob me?”

The chair legs screeched as Dylan shot to his feet, hand on his sword hilt, glaring at the man.

But the dealer only waved a thumb toward the door, his greasy face creasing into a grin.

Plainly, he thought he had Dylan cornered.

At that moment, two figures in leather armor stepped out from the shadows.

They leaned against the wall, arms crossed, smirking as they watched.

Dylan’s hand tightened on his sword—but in the end, he did not draw.

“I’ll go fetch the money.”

He spat the words and turned on his heel.

The dealer’s smug chuckle followed him.

But just as his boot crossed the threshold, Dylan spun, his ring flaring blue, and leveled it at one of the thugs.

【Ice Spear】

Three lances of ice shot forth.

The thug, caught completely off guard, managed only a desperate sidestep—dodging one, but the other two struck his gut and thigh, hurling him back through the flimsy wooden wall.

“You bastard! You’re dead!”

The second thug charged, iron-plated mace raised.

From his clumsy swing, Dylan could tell his strength was about even with his own—a bottom-tier silver. Against Dylan’s experience, he would have the worse of it.

Not that Dylan intended to fight him head-on.

Wind swelled beneath his cloak, snapping it about his shoulders.

【Phantom Double】

His form blurred—then split into three.

From the back, the dealer, who had just raised a bow, gaped. “Two skill artifacts?!”

【Piercing Shot LV4】

The arrow ripped through the middle Dylan—

Pop!

The phantom burst like a bubble.

【Whirlwind Slash LV5】

The two remaining Dylan’s charged from opposite flanks.

Panicked, the thug blocked blindly.

Steel rang against steel, muffled beneath the rain outside.

He had guessed right—but his hesitation cost him. His block lacked the strength to hold.

The blade sheared through his arm, leaving it dangling by a strip of flesh.

“Aaaaaghhh!”

The scream was like a butchered pig’s.

Dylan spared him no glance.

Sword dripping red, he stalked toward the dealer, who trembled violently, knees knocking.

He had thought this washed-up silver adventurer was already in decline.

Who could have imagined he held two skill artifacts—

And struck with such ruthless precision?

Now, seized by the collar, the dealer could only bare his teeth in a pitiful grin.

“M-my mistake, greed got the better of me.

I’ll tell you everything I know. You can take all my coin as well.

Please—just spare my life…”