TINOT 22

Chapter: 22

Dim moonlight poured into the room.

Lisithea, who had been scribbling away at something until late into the night, checked the clock on the desk.

It had already been two hours past the promised time.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The steady sound of her fingers drumming against the desk echoed through the quiet room.

Breaking an appointment twice. Looks like that place is about ready to collapse.

Clicking her tongue lightly, Lisithea closed what she had been writing and rose from her seat.

Just then, a sudden gust of wind blew in, loosening the curtains and making them flutter wildly as if dancing.

Lisithea narrowed her eyes at a dark corner of the room—and abruptly hurled the book she was holding with all her strength.

Smack!

The book struck the wall so violently that its spine split before it fell to the floor.

“Hey! Are you insane? If I hadn’t dodged that, you’d be cleaning up a corpse tonight!”

Someone hiding in the darkness snapped angrily, their voice oddly distorted.

“What a shame. I almost had the chance to kill the continent’s greatest mercenary. I hear the total bounty on your head adds up to a million gold?”

Lisithea replied with a mocking tone as she took down the magic stone lamp from the wall and lit it.

“Hey, with all the history between us, you’d sell me out for that kind of money?”

The unidentified visitor, who had barely managed to dodge the book by shielding their head with both arms, dusted off their robe and stood up.

As if familiar with the room, they chose a perfect spot to sit—cleverly concealed by a bookshelf so that their silhouette wouldn’t be visible from outside the window.

Moreover, at some point they had already rummaged through the room; both hands were full of snacks.

The unwelcome guest paid no mind to the owner’s obvious irritation.

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.

The louder the ravenous chewing, the more crumbs piled up on the floor.

Frowning deeply, Lisithea asked,

“Oh? So five thousand gold wasn’t worth enough to you to keep from ruining someone else’s request like that?”

At her sarcasm, the chewing stopped abruptly.

The hooded intruder tossed aside the half-eaten snack and muttered,

“You’re really killing my appetite.”

“Is this how mercenaries apologize for failing a job these days? Or do you just think I’m easy to push around?”

“Hey, that’s—”

“You should’ve spread the word loudly the moment you botched my request. I was too lazy, wasn’t I? Right, Scylla?”

The continent’s greatest free mercenary—Scylla.

Scylla was undefeated, a mercenary said to have never once failed a mission.

Gender unknown. Nationality unknown. Age unknown.

Everything about them was shrouded in mystery, except for one thing: their skill was unquestionable.

They were also the very person who had failed Lisithea’s request to prevent Joel Spencer from entering the Black Forest—thus allowing him to meet the protagonists of this world.

“You—! You cunning, vicious witch! A mercenary’s reputation is everything!”

Scylla leapt to their feet and pointed accusingly at Lisithea.

“Isn’t reputation built on results? The job I entrusted to you—you failed it. Shouldn’t people stop being fooled by that empty title of ‘undefeated mercenary’?”

“Th-that job was accepted by my subordinates while I was away! If I’d been there, I never would’ve taken such a request!”

Scylla jumped in frustration.

“And managing incompetent subordinates is part of your skill too.”

“I paid you back double the fee! You wicked hag!”

“Does that erase the fact that you failed?”

Lisithea twisted one corner of her mouth into a smirk.

Seeing it up close, Scylla felt their blood pressure spike.

Honestly, would ten thousand gold mean anything to Lisithea—the owner of the Cullinan Mine?

With her personality, she might have burned that money without blinking.

Still, Scylla had a rebuttal.

“Be honest—didn’t that failure actually work out for you? I heard all over the capital that you broke off your engagement with Joel Spencer!”

“And?”

“You ditched that bastard and pocketed ten thousand gold! That’s me helping you, if anything. You should be honoring me as your benefactor!”

Ever since becoming acquainted with Lisithea, Scylla had secretly hoped she would end her engagement.

When the news broke, Scylla had even felt a bit proud—almost imagining she might thank them.

“Why are you rambling? You’re just a mercenary who failed.”

“…Fine. One job. I’ll take one request from you for free. I’ll handle it personally.”

For a moment, Scylla forgot Lisithea’s foul temper.

Groaning, they sat back down and crushed a snack to crumbs while grumbling.

“And if you fail again? Will you blame it on not being paid enough?”

“You really are consistent. Impressive. I’ve never met anyone like you in my life. Your distrust of humanity is on a world-tree level. After this job, let’s never see each other again.”

“Stop babbling and accept proper payment. It’s important.”

As Scylla clapped sarcastically, a cloth pouch flew through the air.

They caught it midair, opened it—and their eyes widened.

“Wait, how many are these? One, two, three, four—”

“Ten one-carat Cullinan rough stones.”

Though Cullinan had barely entered official circulation, demand for it was always explosive.

It had been heralded as a mineral that could reshape the entire magic stone market.

Scylla had asked Lisithea for Cullinan several times before—only to be refused every time.

And now ten of them sat in their hands.

“You really are precise. I’ve never met someone so clean with their calculations. So, my friend—what’s the job?”

Scylla instantly changed their attitude, lavishly praising her while leaning forward eagerly.

“That’s the advance payment. Success bonus is triple. Bill me for any expenses. Hire as many people as you need. Just keep it confidential.”

“Hmmm… Now I’m getting nervous. What exactly are you making me do…?”

Without answering, Lisithea bent down and picked up the book she had thrown earlier.

She flipped through it, tore out a page, and handed it over.

“Nothing difficult. Just follow that.”

She had already organized everything Scylla needed to do.

“Finally escaping this house? Oh, that’s bold. You’ve really made up your mind.”

After skimming the contents, Scylla chattered nonstop.

“But once you leave, do you even have somewhere to go?”

“Is that information necessary for completing the request?”

“You’re so cold. Think about my offer again. With your skills, I’d give you top-tier treatment immediately.”

Scylla was a free mercenary unaffiliated with any guild, as were those who worked with them.

None of them needed guild protection—they were all elites.

Even by Scylla’s standards, Lisithea’s movements were far from ordinary.

They had suggested several times that she try working as a guest mercenary.

Her answer was always the same.

“Top-tier? I just know a few tricks…”

Today was no different. Lisithea shook her head with a bitter smile.

She had picked up a sword simply because she wanted to beat down the arrogant mages who strutted around.

Just when she thought she had become skilled enough to manage it, her body broke down.

In her current condition, how long could she swing a sword?

An hour? Even that seemed doubtful.

“Geniuses are the worst. They don’t even know how extraordinary they are. I told you—even Duke Rowen wasn’t at your level at your age.”

Scylla stomped their feet in frustration.

“And how would you know? You weren’t even born back then.”

Keith Rowen.

Head of the Rowen ducal house—her maternal family—and hailed as the greatest sword genius Rowen had ever produced.

The problem was that Keith Rowen had been Lisithea’s age nearly forty years ago.

Scylla, who couldn’t be more than their late twenties, had no way of knowing what he had been like back then.

“Enough nonsense. Go. If you need more information, contact me.”

Lisithea gestured toward the window.

Grumbling, Scylla rose slowly.

“Haah, I really don’t have time for this… Why now of all times? That’s why I told you to leave this damned house sooner.”

“Oh? Don’t need this then? If you do well on this job, it’ll be yours.”

In Lisithea’s hand was a large, dazzling Cullinan stone.

At least fifty carats—no, fifty-five.

Scylla stared, entranced.

“…No. I need that. Very much.”

“If you fail this job, I’ll never trade Cullinan with you again.”

“Yes, yes, of course! I’ll absolutely succeed!”

“If you want to keep using the name Scylla as a mercenary, you’d better keep that promise.”

“Last time I didn’t even move personally! The undefeated mercenary Scylla will faithfully complete the request entrusted by our esteemed client!”

Even under her cold threat, Scylla simply grinned and rubbed their hands together eagerly.

“Then at midnight on the fifteenth. As promised.”

As soon as they lifted their head—

Scylla vanished into the darkness.

Lisithea stared at the place where they had disappeared for a long moment before firmly locking the window.

It was a night so still that even the wind held its breath.