Helping with Adventurer Party Management - Chapter 238

Since Sara and I have been holed up in the office for a few days, it is no longer in a condition to welcome guests, so we decided to go to the workshop to meet them.

It is night, so the craftsmen have gone home, and the workshop is completely deserted and quiet. Jilboa has brought Swiberryly with him, which is unusual, and several other members appear to be guarding the entrance to the workshop.

We moved a few chairs to the workshop desk to create a small meeting space. Jilboa sits down while Swiberry stands behind him. I take a seat as well, with Sara and Kiriku standing behind me.

“So, what happened?” I ask.

Jilboa slaps the hilt of the sword at his waist and simply says, “It’s done.”

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As I have written in my letter to Jilboa, he has his eye on a location where the magician will definitely pass through: the gate of the first-class district. The magician is dispatched by a great noble from another city, so he shouldn’t have a base in this city. If he leaves evidence behind or is caught by the authorities, it could create a diplomatic issue between the nobles that violates the Count’s sovereignty. Just as spies in the original world use embassies as their base, I figure there is a high chance he will stay at a noble’s mansion in this city.

The ties between nobles are strong, even across cities, so it is common for nobles to stay at each other’s mansions when they travel. If the magician blends in with the retinue, he won’t stand out. Additionally, magicians employed by great nobles tend to live comfortably, so he probably wouldn’t want to stay at an inn crowded with commoners. Due to the need for security, particularly regarding the handling and storage of expensive catalysts, it would be logical for him to base himself in the Noble District.

Yes, I predict this.

The problem for assassins who don’t want to leave a trace is that the gates to the first-class district are heavily guarded, with every entry and exit recorded. However, for magicians who want to disappear, this presents no issue. They can use magic to deceive the guards and enter and exit unnoticed, leaving no records behind.

Jilboa and I are aware of this. We secretly dispatch members of our guild to continuously monitor the comings and goings at the gates of the first-class district from a concealed location, recording anyone the guards unnaturally overlook. Similarly, we keep watch from hidden locations at the Sword Fangs Legion’s office, the entrance to Leather Street, and our company. By comparing these records with the unusual entries and exits at the first-class district, we identify suspicious individuals.

Tonight, Jilboa personally leads his team in a surprise attack and captures one.

“As expected,” I praise Jilboa.

“What? Don’t forget the five large silver coins,” he replies. Given Jilboa’s income, that amount is trivial, so I know he is joking.

I nod and ask, “By the way, what happens to that suspicious person? Did you uncover anything about who’s behind him?”

“He melts.”

“Huh?” I don’t understand Jilboa’s response, so I press for clarification. “What do you mean?”

“I knock him unconscious with my sword, search his body for magical catalysts, and gag him. I splash water on him to wake him up, and when I try to interrogate him, a disgusting red smoke pours out from inside his clothes, and he starts to bubble and melt. The smell is awful.”

“Did he escape?”

“No, his bones are still there, so I don’t think so. He must have committed suicide.” Jilboa frowns, an unusual expression for him, as if he is recalling the gruesome scene.

Thus, for the first time in several days, I am finally released from my self-imposed isolation.