Early the next morning, the servants of the villa cleaned up the messy scene left by last night.
And Eleazar, who had gone back to change his outfit, made his official entrance.
"You... Well, who's it for, please?"
The servant with a somewhat dismayed face silently spat in his heart.
Here comes another one...
Dressed in a black cloak, Eleazar's face is half-hidden in the hood, looking full of mystery, not to mention how flamboyant this walk is.
Unlike the previous sneaky actions, he was commissioned by the Nature Cult this time, and anyway, when things went wrong, there was that big power to cover it up, so this bright and open feeling could not be more enjoyable.
"Inform your master that Mr. Rhine commissioned me."
The servant seemed to have become numb to the strange men who had visited so frequently in the past few days and turned to go in and inform them.
But to their amazement, Mr. Slenger walked quickly out of the house to greet them.
"It's a great honor to have you here, what's your name?"
The only reason that could make this tycoon so cautious is 'Rhine's' status as the chairman of that environmental committee.
That druid didn't lie to him, and what he reported was his real name. That industrial park outside the suburb had to pay a huge amount of environmental pollution fees to this environmental protection association every year.
But that asshole lied to him again. The Environmental Protection Commission, which is rich, said the other day that it didn't have any money.
Eleazar drops his eyes slightly, "The name-calling doesn't matter, I've just been tasked by Mr. Rhine to come over and fix the trouble you're having here, that's all."
With a visibly hesitant look on his face, Sreng took a step closer and whispered, "The evil spirits were exorcized by the Master last night."
"No, the house still has its scent."
The servant next to him rolled his eyes, clearly this kind of talk had been heard enough in the past few days.
Slenger's face stiffened as if he wanted to swear, but he wasn't sure if he'd been sent by the committee, so he had to ask to be entertained inside first.
When Eleazar was inside, he summoned his butler and whispered instructions, "Bring a bottle of good wine and make a trip to the EPC office."
The butler understood the master's meaning quickly.
Eleazar steps into the house and the servant is about to ask him to go up to the parlor on the second floor, but he glances to his left and walks past without hesitation.
"Hey!"
The hallway leading to the dining room was a shocking sight.
Windows were shattered, vase arrangements all along the path were tipped over, there was a conical scorch mark on the ground, and a little further on, there was a row of small, bright red handprints.
All but the scorch marks were left by the corpse babies.
Eleazar steps into the dining room again.
Inside, it was even more chaotic, a rectangular dining table, cut off by the ceiling chandelier, the seats on either side all tipped back, the remains of plates and bowls all over the floor, the servants cleaning up, the tablecloths torn to pieces, and on the walls, the same row of small, bright red handprints spreading up to the chandelier's broken opening.
Combined with and the commotion he heard last night, the scene was slowly being constructed in his mind.
Eleazar's gaze sank slightly.
What is its purpose in doing so?
This question is crucial and concerns how long the owner of this mansion will live.
Once the grudge spell breaks out, Slinger, a great tycoon, will be killed at any moment.
He couldn't follow people around 24/7, and by the time the corpse baby wanted to take his life, it would only take an instant.
From the way it's acting around wreaking havoc right now, it looks like it's pouting and desperately trying to get an adult's attention, just like a baby cries and calls out to an adult when it's not feeling well.
But it's also easy to see that its patience is about to run out.
The best time for their Witcher to come out is when it completes its patricide and takes on its true form, because only then can it accomplish true annihilation, and until then, it's immortal.
No matter how many times they are driven away.
And this process of admission in its metamorphosis was the most troublesome, if he hadn't accepted the commission, he wouldn't have bothered to care about this rich man's death.
So there's a lot to figure out right now.
Eleazar takes one last look at the messy scene and turns to leave.
Led by the servant, he came to the parlor on the second floor.
It had been converted into a makeshift restaurant where a group of one-liners sat down to breakfast.
The old man with the feathered head...
The burly man with the weird tattoos...
The woman with the striped oil paint on her face...
With a sheep's head and bone staff...
Take the crystal ball...
Dressed as witches, ascetics, psychics... Wait a minute, a swarm of people in strange costumes.
Eleazar thought he was flashy enough in this outfit, but realized it was nothing compared to these people.
Then turned on his senses and scanned again, and good lord, none of it was real.
He was sizing up the crooks, and they were sizing him up.
Some have voiced their displeasure at his unprofessionalism.
"Hey, this Mr. Reaper, did you forget your scythe at home?"
The fake Transcendents roared with laughter.
Instead of getting angry, Eleazar looked at the men with some pity.
In a sense, they're all stand-ins.
"Hiding your head, what are you afraid to see." His silence instantly made the people around him feel that he was weak and deceitful, so immediately someone came forward and seemed to want to lift his hood.
Eleazar inclines his head slightly.
"Boo!"
The man who had come over with great strides had hit an invisible wall, his nose was red, and his face was full of dismay.
The people around them saw this and whispered to each other.
"They're a gang?"
This kind of tie-in performance is all too familiar.
"I... Not..."
The man's face suddenly looked a little alarmed, and he grabbed a chair with his backhand and threw it forward fiercely.
"Clang!"
Again, it was as if the chair had hit an invisible wall and split apart on the spot.
The hall suddenly became a little quiet.
The faces of the counterfeiters sitting around the long table were filled with shock.
All of them were the best in the field of juggling, and their minds were full of thoughts at the moment.
"How does this work? What's the principle, anyway? Where did you learn it?"
This hand shocked them.
"When the spirit is cultivated to the extreme, the power of the mind can be externalized."
The withered ascetic, his mouth chanting, only to see his hands clasped together, his feet coiled up, his body suspended in the air, actually borrowing the hands of outsiders, performing another high-flying performance.
But other people's power is not so easy to borrow.
Eleazar swept him off his feet, and with a thought, an invisible blade of air flashed instantaneously, cutting the transparent rope from which he had somehow dangled.
The ascetic, who had just levitated half a meter high, stumbled and quickly landed back on his butt on the hard bench as if he had twisted his back, and his form was suddenly a bit askew.
It's boring as hell to play with these idiots.
Eleazar scanned the group of people who had run out of things to say with a bland glance and took a random seat.
The atmosphere was somewhat eerily silent.
But it was not long before the master of the house, Sreng, came up with a quick step.