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[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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Chapter 178: Ghosts (1)
“There’s a rumor that the dead roam the city after midnight.”
At Grace’s words, everyone chuckled.
They thought she was making a joke to lighten the mood of the meeting.
However, a few who knew her personality tilted their heads.
‘Grace? Making a joke?’
‘And in the middle of a meeting, of all places? That doesn’t make sense…’
‘Strange.’
Hamel Grimwiz, the Deputy Tower Master, was the first to speak.
“I’d like to hear more details. When you say the dead, what exactly do you mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. People who were known to be dead are reportedly walking around.”
Grace turned her eyes to the documents she was holding.
“After conducting a personal investigation, I found that quite a few individuals have been mentioned over the past few days.”
“Can you give an example?”
“Of course. The first reported case was Rudin Deyar. He was a psychological healer who used mind magic to treat mental ailments and was quite active in his field.”
“Ah, I attended one of his lectures once. I remember him as a man with an upright demeanor. If I recall correctly, didn’t he go missing while traveling for work?”
“That’s right. No one had seen him since his disappearance four years ago. The Deyar family eventually held a funeral for him last year.”
And yet, he was allegedly walking around Sirin?
As everyone’s expressions grew uneasy, Elder Maxim spoke up.
“Isn’t it just a simple case of mistaken identity? There are plenty of lookalikes in the world.”
“That’s what I thought at first, too. But the informant was someone from the Deyar family, which made me reconsider.”
“...You’re saying the informant was from the Deyar family? What was their relation to Rudin Deyar?”
“It was his older brother, Ian Deyar.”
The atmosphere shifted at once.
It was one thing for a stranger to mistake someone for Rudin, but it was another for his own brother—the person who had grown up with him—to do so.
The odds of that were slim.
“Ian was visiting Sirin as a tourist. After a night of heavy drinking, he was on his way back to his hotel when he suddenly saw his brother on the street. His drunkenness evaporated in an instant. But no matter how much he called out, his brother ignored him and disappeared into an alley, vanishing like a ghost.”
“Oh, come on. That just sounds like he was drunk and confused.”
“I disagree.”
It was the Deputy Tower Master who refuted Maxim’s words.
As the others’ eyes turned to him, he glanced at Grace.
“The Grace I know is an exceptionally capable mage. If this were just some drunken farce, he wouldn’t have bothered bringing it up during the meeting. Am I wrong?”
“No, you’re not.”
Grace shook her head and continued.
“The truly alarming part is that we’ve been receiving similar reports daily. Today marks the seventh consecutive day. In total, there have been 23 cases. Upon investigation, all of the individuals mentioned had either gone missing or had not been seen by anyone in a long time.”
Grace paused briefly, taking a measured breath.
Then, in a low, almost murmuring voice, she added:
“Do any of you know of a mage named Joe Madison?”
“Joe Madison?”
“Who?”
Some mages furrowed their brows in confusion, but others narrowed their eyes.
Elder Fidelina responded.
“The White Watcher of the White Tower. A Level 5 mage. Disappeared six years ago while on a mission to an external city.”
“...That’s right.”
Grace’s fist clenched tightly.
“He was my successor. And now, we’ve received reports of sightings of him.”
“Ah…”
The room fell silent.
Now they understood why Grace had pursued this bizarre rumor so diligently.
For the first time since her cherished protégé’s disappearance, she had finally found a lead.
Sasha, who had been listening with her eyes closed, slowly opened them and asked:
“Are the sources reliable?”
“The reports came from none other than Joe Madison’s own colleagues at the White Watchers. Four of them claim to have seen him. Unless they were all collectively hallucinating….”
“It seems certain that something is roaming around Sirin.”
But that only made the situation more suspicious.
If the figure truly was Joe Madison, he would have reported back to the White Tower immediately.
“...Something feels off. The fact that only the missing are being seen is unsettling.”
“Indeed. Because of that, the number of people walking around Sirin at night has drastically decreased.”
And of course it had.
Hearing that mysterious, possibly dead individuals were wandering the streets would make anyone think twice about going out after dark.
“Hmm.”
After a brief moment of thought, the Deputy Tower Master turned to Oscar.
“I believe it would be best for the Special Forces Department to collaborate with the White Watchers on this matter.”
Given the nature of the incident, it made sense.
A mysterious occurrence within their territory fell squarely under the jurisdiction of the Special Forces.
However, Sasha, aware of Oscar’s current condition, subtly shook her head.
‘No.’
‘It’s fine. It’s just an investigation. I won’t overdo it.’
With a reassuring glance, Oscar calmed her and gave a small nod.
“Understood.”
* * *
Sirin was hardly a sanctuary for missing people—it was absurd to think they were truly back.
As they walked down the corridor, Grace spoke up after hearing Oscar’s thoughts.
“So, you think someone is impersonating them?”
“The chances seem high.”
“I agree.”
Grace extended her fingers, save for her thumb.
“I initially suspected four possible methods. Do you know what they are?”
Four methods.
Oscar didn’t have to think long before responding.
“Necromancy, illusion, hypnosis, and shapeshifting.”
“Ho.”
Grace raised her eyebrows slightly, impressed, and nodded.
“Correct. At first, I suspected necromancy. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case.”
“You’ve ruled it out?”
“Yes. We found no traces of necromantic energy or related magic. Besides, necromancy is outlawed by the empire, and few are bold enough to dabble in it.”
“That’s a relief, at least.”
If it wasn’t necromancy, that was one less nightmare to worry about.
Anyone insane enough to break national law by practicing necromancy was bound to cause catastrophic damage.
“Subsequent investigations found no traces of other magic either. The White Watchers are now leaning toward the possibility of a shapeshifter.”
“A shapeshifter… That does seem like the most plausible possibility.”
“The problem is, we have no clue about the perpetrator’s motive.”
A motive.
As Oscar pondered what it could be, he muttered softly.
“…There might not be one.”
“What?”
“No, I just had the thought that maybe there’s no motive at all.”
At those words, Grace let out a small huff of air through her nose.
“Hmm. That’s ridiculous. Why would someone go through all that trouble without a motive?”
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[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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“Maybe the sole purpose was to divert our attention.”
“Divert our attention?”
Grace furrowed her brows in contemplation.
“That makes it even harder to understand. People only do things like that when they have a specific goal in mind.”
Like stealing an expensive gem at an auction or assassinating a guarded target—
It’s a technique typically used to create a distraction and exploit a vulnerability.
“Still, just in case, let’s tighten security around the Mage Tower and the city. Even if it’s just a ghost story, more citizens are starting to fear it.”
“Hmm. I’ll take your advice.”
Grace nodded and handed over a thick file.
“It’s the report compiled by the Sentinels. Read it.”
Oscar quickly skimmed through the contents.
The reported sightings of the dead were scattered all over the city:
Alleyways, pub bathrooms, restaurants, and even places like hospitals and schoolyards.
‘There’s no discernible pattern to their appearances.’
Human behavior tends to exhibit certain habits or tendencies.
But the locations where the dead were sighted showed no consistency whatsoever.
‘It’s as if these dozens of missing people were all entirely different individuals.’
As Oscar read the file with a grim expression, his eyes suddenly narrowed.
“…Maybe it’s just my imagination, but the appearances seem to be getting more frequent.”
“They are. That’s why we think we’ll be able to catch them soon.”
“But isn’t this a bit odd?”
Oscar pointed to the location where one of the dead had been sighted just the day before.
“This is on opposite ends of the city, yet the sightings occurred only three minutes apart.”
“They’ve been moving around quite frantically over the past few days.”
“…What if they’re not alone?”
“Hmm. That’s possible, but it’s hard to believe there would be another shapeshifter with such skill.”
Indeed, the deception was no amateur work—it was convincing enough to fool even the victims’ families.
Oscar gave a slight nod and returned the report.
“Hm? You can keep it—it’s a copy.”
“No need. I’ve already memorized it.”
“……”
Remembering what kind of person Oscar was, Grace accepted the report without further comment.
“Our orders are to cooperate with the Special Forces during the investigation. Do as you see fit.”
“In that case, I’ll move independently.”
Oscar didn’t bother asking when the Sentinels would be on duty.
‘After all, they’re Sentinels.’
Day and night in Sirin,
The ones who protected the city around the clock were the White Sentinels.
* * *
Midnight.
Ever since the influx of tourists, the streets had remained relatively lively even in the early hours.
But tonight, they were considerably quiet.
[Bzzz crackle…]
At the bar, Oscar sat nursing a drink, a small crystal orb resting before him.
From the orb, he could hear the voices of the White Sentinels.
[District 12… Bzzz… All clear.]
[Bzzz… District 7, no signs… No abnormal activity…]
It was a portable communication device that allowed short messages through pre-designated magic channels.
It was standard military-grade equipment but had recently become common among mage towers as well.
[They’re late tonight… crackle…]
[Maybe… crackle… they got spooked… by the tightening net…]
The occasional static disrupted the conversation, but not to the point of incomprehensibility.
‘Still, wouldn’t a large-scale message spell be more convenient?’
That would eliminate the Bzzz and provide clearer audio.
But then again, there probably weren’t many mages capable of casting such spells.
As Oscar took a sip from his glass (a non-alcoholic drink), the bartender kept sneaking glances at him.
The reason was obvious.
‘This bar… was it that place?’
Goblin’s Tears.
The very bar where, upon awakening in his young body, Oscar had slain three men.
Now that he thought about it, the bartender’s face seemed familiar.
“Did you screw up again?”
“…Pardon?”
The bartender blinked in surprise at the sudden question.
“Last time, you were acting suspicious because you were up to something. But why are you polishing the same glass over and over now?”
“Oh, that’s… I just feel awkward standing still with nothing to do.”
“Hmph.”
Finding the answer unexpectedly mundane, Oscar gave a nod and asked:
“Still keeping your hands clean these days?”
“W-well, I’ve never done anything dirty in the first place.”
“Am I mistaken, then? I could’ve sworn you tried to scam me before.”
“That was because the Gordon family forced me to… I truly am sorry for that.”
The bartender, in a show of apology, brought out a plate of fresh fruit.
Munching on the surprisingly good fruit, Oscar glanced around the bar and asked:
“Is it always this empty these days?”
“Yes, the ghost stories have really driven away customers. Our boss is quite worried.”
Understandable—
For a bar, this hour should have been its busiest time, yet it was deserted.
As Oscar nursed his drink and bit into an apple slice,
The bartender, still polishing the glass, glanced at the entrance.
“Your companion seems to have arrived.”
“…I’m not expecting anyone.”
“Oh, my apologies. I just assumed since they were from the White Tower as well.”
White Tower?
At those words, Oscar turned and narrowed his eyes.
Standing by the door was a man in a white robe.
The moment Oscar turned to look, the man swiftly turned and left the bar.
Oscar immediately spoke.
“Hey, do you know that mage’s name?”
“N-no, I don’t. I don’t know every customer by name.”
“But you recognize faces, don’t you?”
“Well, yes… but it’s been a long time since I last saw him. Must’ve been five or six years ago.”
The moment he heard that, Oscar abruptly stood up and shoved the door open, stepping out onto the street.
Scanning the surroundings, his sharp gaze caught a glimpse of a white robe vanishing into a nearby alley.
‘Joe Madison.’
His instincts screamed at him.
That man was none other than the ghost haunting the city.
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[Translator - Night]
[Proofreader - Gun]
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