For a moment, Deon simply stared at his total Points. He had a weird feeling, a similar one that someone would get when they bought a house.

On one hand, you owned a house, but on the other...you just paid for a house. Shopping hangover—was the term Deon was looking for.

[ClownWithWifi: Ain’t no way bros broke again!]

[RandomToastEnjoyer: welcome back to poverty my streamer]

"Yeah, yeah," Deon sighed. "Laugh it up."

A shiny blue light formed in his hand before the Card slowly appeared between his fingers.

[Playback]

Hana’s eyes widened, mostly because Deon was the first one to use the [Shop] feature. Well, not really, but she didn’t need to know that.

"Deon...you bought something?"

"Yeah."

"How much was it?"

"Don’t ask."

"That bad?"

"I said don’t ask."

Vivian, still lying on one of the red guest chairs, opened one eye. "Three hundred?"

Deon turned his head toward her. "Were you sleeping or eavesdropping?"

"Both~"

He clicked his tongue before slipping it back into his pocket and pulled the nearest stack of letters toward him.

The top few were ordinary enough—household records, guest arrangements, and some meeting notes.

Strange...are we even in the same world? Such a mansion existing would be strange in the current day. But then again...it is the Miracle Royale after all, they can do anything.

He sighed before going through them one by one, not really expecting anything at first. But then something caught his eyes, specifically, each and every letter was dated.

Whoever owned this desk had kept the letters in order. Not perfectly, but close enough that Deon could follow the flow of them.

He went through the letters, mumbling the numbers. "The fifth...the seventh, the eighth...Wait...the fifth, the seventh..."

"Find something?" Hana said, noticing his silence and walking over to him.

"Yeah," Deon nodded. "All these letters are dated to some extent...but the sixth is missing."

He turned to look at the rest of the cabinets, maybe it was tucked somewhere deliberately. One opened with a soft creak, revealing more boring documents. Another was locked and the third had nothing but a small brass key that looked too obvious to trust.

Damn, no letter?

Deon’s elbow found the chair’s arm as he used it to support his head. "Is it really missing?"

"Well, whatever," he mumbled, opening the one labeled on the fourth up. "Maybe I can use context clues."

Deon opened the letter and read its contents.

"Lord Marcel,

Your attendance has been requested for a private gathering of like-minded patrons. Discussions will concern future privileges, estate preservation, and matters of continued prosperity."

At first glance, Deon thought it sounded like a business meeting. But the way it had been said gave him a different impression.

Hmm...seems like the owner of the estate was in some kind of group? Matters of continued prosperity...what does that even mean?

Deon put the fourth letter aside, moving to the fifth.

"Your preliminary acceptance has been received.

Further terms will be delivered upon confirmation of attendance. As previously discussed, the benefits offered will extend beyond ordinary wealth."

Beyond ordinary wealth. That phrase alone was enough to make his stomach feel slightly off. But there was a lingering feeling that gnawed from within, an instinct that told him one thing—

This person was connected to the Miracle Royale somehow.

"Ahh, it’s so warm..." Vivian gushed softly as she stretched. "Wish I could be here forever."

Deon glanced at her for half a second before rolling his eyes. "Sleeptalk? Can’t she ever stay still?"

He put the fifth letter down, taking the final letter within his hand before reading it all the same.

"Lord Marcel,

Hesitation after acceptance is unbecoming. Sponsorship is not a favor that may be accepted and declined at leisure. We are not a charity.

Your attendance at the Meeting is mandatory. Refusal will be considered a breach of contract."

Deon tapped the paper once with his finger, trying to organize them into some sort of order. The fourth letter was an invitation, the fifth was an acceptance, and the seventh...was a threat.

"Which probably means the sixth is his reply," Deon muttered.

Hana caught what he said, leaning closer to read the papers without touching them. "Maybe the patriarch of this mansion moved it?"

"Maybe."

Deon said it, but even he didn’t really believe it. The letters were too neatly arranged for that. The fourth, fifth, seventh, and eighth had all been kept together.

Which meant the sixth wasn’t misplaced. It was missing.

He leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair as he thought about it, eyes unconsciously drifting toward the napping Vivian.

Damn it, she can snuggle up comfortably even in this hot ass room.

...

Wait.

Deon’s hand stopped halfway through his hair, sweat already clinging to his forehead.

Hot?

The Master Office hadn’t been hot when they entered. As a matter of fact, it was the opposite, completely damp and stale.

So why is it warm now?

His eyes moved past Vivian and finally found the source—a small fireplace that had a small flame burning inside it.

Deon stared at it for a second before looking toward the rest of the group. "...Was that lit before?"

Hana followed his gaze, but her expression was just as confused as he was. "I don’t think so?"

Jin, who was digging through some cabinets, looked up and noticed it as well. "Nobody went near it, I don’t think."

"So why is it...?" Deon muttered softly.

He got up and approached the fireplace slowly, his steps light, expecting the mansion to be creepy as advertised.

The closer he got, the more obvious the heat became. It wasn’t unbearable. Actually, it wasn’t even that strong. But compared to the stale coldness of the room earlier, the warmth felt out of place, like someone had quietly changed the setting while no one was paying attention.

Deon stopped a few feet away from it.

If the fireplace had suddenly roared to life, he could at least treat it like a threat. But this...sort of felt like an invitation.

Deon crouched beside it, eyes scanning inside of the hearth before he finally caught it. Mixed in the ash were thin black curls, tot flat to be charcoal and too delicate to be wood.

It was paper.

"...Of course."

Hana stepped closer behind him. "What is it?"

"Seems like our patriarch disliked leaving evidence."

Deon reached forward, but the heat licked against his fingers, forcing him to pull back.

"Tch..."

He glanced around, finding a set of fireplace tools. Deon grabbed the poker and carefully shifted the burning wood aside.

Now that there was a clear path, he used the poker to push the burnt pieces toward him. And now that they were closer, his eyes widened on instinct.

"The sixth.."

He reached out for it, mouth opening to say something sarcastic, but the words never made it out. Because the moment his fingers passed the threshold—

ZWOOOP!

Something yanked on him, pulling him into the fireplace before he could even react. Deon barely had time to widen his eyes before the fireplace folded around him like a mouth, swallowing him whole.

Hana dropped to her knees in terror, only able to scream one thing—

"Deon!"