Retire 448
by Cristae448 Hong Seokyoung’s Detective Agency (3)
We proceeded on the assumption that Noah Michel was behind all of this.
Of course, did we have any concrete evidence?
No.
But as I kept saying, if it wasn’t Noah Michel doing this, it was even worse. If this was a naturally occurring phenomenon, that meant another insane dungeon break like this could happen at any time.
So, it was better if it was Noah Michel.
There was a kind of… desperate hope in that.
“Does the U.S. government know about this?”
Gamble and Kim Chaemin, who had been fiercely debating whether it was possible to detonate dungeons remotely with puppet magic, fell silent at my question.
“Who knows? I haven’t mentioned Michel. Even I wouldn’t go that far without proof. That’s just asking to be labeled a lunatic.”
“No, not that.”
I shook my head.
“I mean, about these dungeons that broke. The possible connection to gangs…”
As my father said, it wasn’t a perfect match, but the odds were suspiciously high.
Too much to just write off as coincidence.
If my sister had shown even half as much effort, handing over similar data when she was pushing for the Bangidong dungeon raid back at the Administration, I wouldn’t have dismissed her so easily.
“Didn’t you say you requested data from Daniel too? In that case, the Americans must have noticed the pattern among these dungeons. I bet you asked them outright, too.”
“Well, yeah. If they haven’t figured it out, maybe we should rethink working with them.”
My father nodded lightly, not looking particularly worried.
“Maybe, hmm, the U.S. government might even think this was some kind of terrorist attack by a rotten gang… That’s not impossible.”
He rolled his eyes.
I glanced downward, and so did Gamble, Kim Chaemin, and even Hope. Everyone started looking in different directions, feigning distraction.
“We weren’t planning to catch Lehmann ourselves from the start, were we?”
It wasn’t exactly a false accusation…
Just another unconfirmed suspicion added to the pile, and we couldn’t call it a lie.
As always, we were operating on the premise that the Ark—including Noah Michel and Henry Lehmann—was behind all this.
“Unlike the archmage Michel, Lehmann doesn’t even know where we are. So it’s best to stick to the plan and let law enforcement handle it. Less trouble for us later.”
“I didn’t say anything, did I?”
The way Gamble tried to explain herself, glancing at me, was so funny I couldn’t help but comment.
My father’s eyes widened, then he gave a silly laugh. I glared at him, then turned away.
“B-but…”
Gamble, meeting my eyes, jumped in surprise and stammered.
…I hadn’t meant to scare her. Why was she so startled?
“S-so, is it really okay to chase after Henry Lehmann like this, leaving Noah Michel alone? Isn’t Michel the most dangerous one?”
This time, Kim Chaemin answered.
“Even so, there’s nothing we can do about Michel right now.”
My father and I both nodded. Gamble tilted her head.
“If Michel and Lehmann are fighting… wouldn’t catching Lehmann just be helping Michel?”
“No.”
I shook my head and explained to Gamble.
I understood now why my father had gone out of his way to pass a hint to the Americans through Daniel.
“If we get a chance to take out either of them, we have to. If they ever make up, we’re in real trouble.”
“Make up? I doubt it. Noah always hated Henry.”
Hope raised her hand, speaking up. She was probably the only one here who could claim to know them both, but I was skeptical.
You can never know what people will do. Especially not people who can commit the kind of acts no normal human would even consider.
“Humans are unpredictable.”
The two of them could suddenly decide to team up and kill my father first.
It was better to take care of at least one side while they were openly feuding like this.
Hope looked even more lost, lips pursed.
“Humans are complicated…”
“Well, what if Michel planned this? She must know that, unlike her, Lehmann is a criminal wanted by multiple countries.”
At Gamble’s question, Hope tilted her head.
“Noah? She’s not that good at dealing with people.”
Not exactly the kind of assessment you’d expect from someone who’d just complained about how hard humans are to understand.
Or maybe that’s exactly why Hope could say that about Noah Michel—because in some ways, they were the same.
Ironically, even though the two of them wanted completely different outcomes, they shared something in common.
They both found humans difficult.
“She’s got a temper, even if she doesn’t look it.”
Hope shook her head.
“That’s why I told you not to go to France! I’m just glad you all came back in one piece… At least she has enough social sense to care what people think.”
Said the person who’d attacked two kids in broad daylight.
“Maybe it’s just as well Semi isn’t around? She was the only one Noah ever let run around changing things for her… Only Semi could get away with that.”
“There are plenty of mages who follow Michel, aren’t there? She could have picked one of them.”
“Come on. Noah hates people. How could she do that?”
Hope snorted.
In some ways, Noah Michel was a remarkably consistent mage.
After grumbling for a while about Noah Michel and Sam Bloom, Hope frowned.
“Ah. I bet the dungeon that broke in Marseille was Noah’s doing too, right?”
“You think so?”
“Noah—she acts like she doesn’t care, but she loves operas and old stories. About slaying evil dragons and saving people…”
“Old stories? You mean myths?”
“Same thing. Maybe she wanted to play that role in Marseille, too. There was a perfect dungeon for it—one she could handle easily. And do it in spectacular fashion.”
A monster weak to fire.
Hope’s words didn’t surprise me.
Kim Chaemin and I had thought the same thing.
There had even been suspicions that the Myeongdong dungeon was artificially triggered. The investigation had stalled completely because all the people involved were either dead or missing. The few we could still track down didn’t know anything.
So, well…
“All right, let’s leave it at that for now. There’s nothing we can do at the moment.”
My father wrapped up the now-quiet conversation.
“For the time being, we’ll just have to wait for things in San Francisco to settle down. Ms. Kim?”
“I’ll keep tracking Michel’s movements.”
“Please do.”
After that, the conversation turned to the usual topics—Gamble asking for more research funding, Hope chattering about the latest drama she was watching…
Still, there were some productive discussions.
“Tomorrow, I’ll try the treatment with Mr. Han.”
Kim Chaemin’s words shifted the topic completely. Instead of the grim news from San Francisco, we were back to technical terms that were still hard to understand.
I had no intention of dismissing the effort Kim Chaemin and Gamble had put in to ensure safety, but what I took away from the conversation was simple.
My father’s leg could be treated safely.
That was enough.
After that… all we could do was hope, as my father wanted, that the Americans would catch Lehmann.
What’s wrong with relying on law enforcement to catch a criminal?
“By the way, shouldn’t we add this hunter to the team, too?”
“Why?”
“Honestly, if it weren’t for her, we wouldn’t have gotten this far…”
At Kim Chaemin’s words, I considered Lee Miseon’s contributions.
She really had done a lot. Even knowing it was suspicious, she’d helped out of a sense of obligation, without asking too many questions.
If anything, maybe we owed her more now.
“Should we tell her later?”
“Hmm. She probably wouldn’t like it.”
“Why?”
At my father’s words, Kim Chaemin tilted her head. My father shrugged and answered playfully.
“She’d think it means more work for her.”
“…There’s no one as capable as she is, though.”
“She’ll be happy to know even the archmage recognizes her.”
“She’d probably hate that even more…”
“But there’s no one as talented as her.”
“Which is exactly why she’d hate it.”
Whatever Sunsunji thought, this detective agency was chronically understaffed.
Everyone felt bad about Lee Miseon’s workload, but just like with what was happening in America, there wasn’t much we could do.
At least with Henry Lehmann, we could rely on the authorities…
Hmm.
This is why you shouldn’t do everything yourself at work, just because you can.
“All right, everyone! Today, we’re going to harvest mana grass together!”
While everyone was still on edge from the news out of America, it was Kim Chaemin who first brought us back to our daily routine.
Kim Chaemin dressed the two French guild masters, who were today’s assistant teachers, in flower-print aprons and laughed brightly.
I sat in a chair in the greenhouse, checking my phone. The situation in San Francisco was being updated in real time on social media.
As for Lehmann… contrary to our hopes, it wasn’t a problem that could be solved all at once. It wasn’t that the Americans weren’t acting. In fact, when police raided one of Lehmann’s hideouts, they were caught in an explosion and injured. At this point, the Americans probably realized it was too risky to go after a lunatic who’d figured out how to trigger abnormal dungeon reactions.
Maybe they were waiting for my father’s injury to heal a bit more.
Back in the day, my father used to tell me he was going abroad on dungeon raids, but now I realized it hadn’t always been about dungeons. He admitted it himself. There had been plenty of things he couldn’t talk about—like chasing criminals.
Oh Hyunwook’s profile flashed through my mind. All that censorship. At least with Oh Hyunwook, there was some record. My father didn’t even have that.
“Mr. Woo.”
“How’s Mr. Hong’s leg?”
“He’s recovering very well.”
Daniel nodded with his usual stoic face. Right after the San Francisco incident, he’d seemed half out of his mind, but lately he’d settled down and returned to his original reason for coming to Korea.
Taking care of my father’s leg.
Two days ago, the first surgery was completed. Unlike the bright faces of Gamble and Kim Chaemin, Han Taekyung had crawled out of the surgery room on all fours.
‘My eyes feel like they’re going to fall out…’
Even for Han Taekyung, extracting poison that was nearly invisible was a struggle.
I shrugged off the memory of Han Taekyung. They still hadn’t removed all the toad eggs from my father’s leg.
“……?”
After checking on my father’s leg and delivering the good news, Daniel’s face didn’t look happy.
I straightened up.
I knew that look. It was the same expression employees wore when they came to confess their mistakes to me. It was no different, even for an American.
But what reason could this American have to look at me like that?
I frowned.