“Which Crow are you talking about?” Annan asked seriously in the living room of the viscount’s residence, after the other person had changed back into their clothes and bandaged their knees and shins.
After Zoya’s examination, it was no surprise that the viscount’s wife and children had also been bitten by the worm—they all had the mark of the worm’s ring on their chests, likely spread personally by the viscount who had been bitten himself.
Considering their potential usefulness later, the two were captured and tossed into a corner after Citalopram paralyzed their sight, hearing, and mobility. The servants of the viscount’s residence were checked as well, revealing that nearly half had been quietly replaced.
After receiving Annan’s permission, those servants were killed by the players—all who didn’t bear the worm’s ring on their chests. The remaining servants without the mark were confined in several rooms. As for whether they would be executed, imprisoned, exiled, or used as witnesses to the viscount’s treason to redeem themselves, that would depend on the interrogation by the professionals to follow.
As for the man before them now—he needed to be interrogated immediately.
Fortunately, it seemed that the man had no will to resist.
“Count Geraint, of course.”
Despite claiming to serve a foreign intelligence agency, the man spoke without any hint of evasion.
“Are you under the Three-eyed Crow?”
“No, I’m just employed by Count Geraint—my name is Jacob, Your Majesty. People call me ‘the Master Key’, and some respectfully refer to me as ‘the Lockpicker’.”
The middle-aged man with short yellow hair like withered grass said in a flattering manner.
To prevent him from doing anything bad, he was restrained by Zoya using a simple method. The temporary approach to restrain a ritualist was straightforward: just by forcing their hands together and making them wear a glove designed for only one hand.
If the fingers couldn’t move and the palms couldn’t be separated, most rituals became completely unusable. A more elaborate method would involve putting on iron gloves and shackles, but for a ritualist who voluntarily accepted restraint, a single glove was sufficient.
What made Zoya unhappy was that it was Annan’s gloves.
“Sounds like a thief.” Zoya crossed her arms and blurted abruptly.
Whether it was attempting to attack Annan, assisting the Northern Brotherhood, or acting as a spy sent by the Three-eyed Crow, or sullying Annan’s gloves with that filthy body, she harbored no good feelings towards this seemingly frivolous man.
“You’re right. I’m a thief, my lord.” However, Jacob had no fear of Zoya’s cold gaze, nor did he refute her contemptuous remarks.
He said playfully, “The rituals I excel in are sneaking in and transporting things. It’s not just about getting in, the key is being able to carry things out. I once spent a night in the United Kingdom and left a minor noble’s house with nothing but walls.”
To be left with nothing but bare walls…
“Tell me the important point.” Annan said calmly.
“Ah, in short… I was sent to Austere-Winter by His Excellency Crow five years ago. The purpose was to join the Northern Brotherhood, an extremist organization, and serve them.”
Jacob added, “But since the end of last year, I received a mission — if they attempt any harm against His Majesty Annan, I am to intervene in their actions and secretly protect His Majesty.”
“I swear to Old Grandmother, I would never harm His Majesty Annan… That incredibly chaotic teleportation array? Although it might make His Majesty Annan dizzy for a while, it’s absolutely safe!”
The man, with hair as disheveled as dry grass, hastily explained, “I will teleport all those captured to separate places at certain intervals — but not to the location they specify. Instead, I’ll send them to safe houses that I’ve arranged in advance.”
“I arranged the mirrors in such a disarray? It’s not to prevent you from tracking me! Otherwise, why wouldn’t I just set the mirrors to shatter automatically after the ritual? I arranged them chaotically precisely to obscure the location of the final mirror…”
“That makes sense.” Annan nodded and said calmly, “However, I still hope to talk to Count Geraint to confirm your statement.”
“…I can’t communicate with Count Gerlant. Our contact is one-way; he can only initiate tasks for me.” Jacob shrugged, “But if you have something to say, just speak up, okay?”
“What?”
“My pupils are engraved with [Crow’s Eyes]. Everything I see is observed by the ‘Three-eyed Crow’ — the Three-eyed Crow in charge of me is proficient in lip reading, so anything you want to say will be reported to Lord Crow.”
Upon hearing this, Zoya’s expression darkened further, with evident murderous intent spilling from her eyes.
Had it not been for Annan seeming not to want to kill him at the moment, this statement alone would have been enough to sentence him to death.
That was because he had already seen Zoya’s face… half of Zorgen’s face, to be precise.
The identity of the “Ten Fingers” wasn’t a particularly crucial secret. Exposing Zoya and Zorgen as the Ring and Pinky Fingers respectively wouldn’t have a significant impact, since they held positions that seldom appeared in public. Their identities had not yet been revealed by the intelligence departments of other countries.
And now, because of this man, their identities were exposed for no reason — Zoya even harbored thoughts of killing him.
On the other hand, Three-eyed Crow was indeed an intelligence agency with Old Crow leading it — Count Geraint’s wisdom was indeed well-deserved.
This was where the Crows really had the upper hand.
The middle-aged man had hay-colored hair and light green eyes, giving off an unkempt appearance. He revealed a smile missing half a tooth, not particularly pleasant to look at. He said with a smile, “However, I do have another matter that can prove my innocence.”
“Tell me.”
“The Frost Beast recognizes me,” Jacob stated firmly. “Because I was the one who brought her here — since I couldn’t possibly teleport His Majesty Annan to their designated location, I can’t go back this time.”
“And I knew that Prince Dmitri was looking for her. The Northern Brotherhood had captured her not long ago… After I found out, I stole her from her cage and released her on the mountainside. You can ask her directly.”
“Is what that man said true?” Annan took the white cub out of his arms and asked softly.
The milky-white young fox-dog nodded obediently.
Is that why this child appears in a place like this halfway up the mountain?
“That’s a good reason.” Annan’s expression softened a little.
The first humanoid Frost Beast in history was of great significance to the Northern Brotherhood. A Frost Beast with intelligence and the ability to speak meant it could be domesticated — controlled without the need for a Winter Heart. Being female implied the potential for reproduction.
Annan suddenly realized.
…But, this is no good.
She couldn’t be handed over to my foolish brother… Given Dmitri’s animosity and hatred towards werewolves, he might just raise her and then take her for breeding purposes.
Annan had a feeling that Dmitri might commit this deed.
…Let’s keep it here with me for now.
For some reason, Annan felt a special kinship towards her, far more than with any other Frost Beast.
“I have to give you a name, little one.”
Annan thought for a moment.
Then, he suddenly smiled.
Annan thought of a good name.
In the “Faceless Deity Studio” where he worked during his lifetime, there was a colleague who had a good relationship with Annan. He was also Annan’s roommate and Annan’s college roommate… Unlike Annan, he was a real “cute boy”.
They said the relationship between roommates was that of father and son.
In my previous life, I couldn’t become your father, so in this life, you’ll become my daughter.
“— You shall be called Russell.” Annan said with a smile full of paternal love, tinged with a hint of malice.
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