Home/The Reason I Was Reincarnated as a Witch in a Novel/ch 11

Chapter 011

Lindsay had always known that a day like this would come. When you operate in the underworld, clandestine approaches are only a matter of time—especially for someone selling miracle hair-growth potions!

She stared at the man with a look that said, What must come, comes.

She had nothing to fear. Three defensive spells were cast on her body, and she knew dozens of shadowless spear attack spells. And while she had failed to resonate with the moonlight, she possessed extraordinary physical strength.

The man before her seemed strong for a human, but still—

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Playing dumb."

At her innocuous reply, a crease formed between the man's brows. Normally, he would have handed over anyone needing interrogation to his subordinates. His loyal men were capable of extracting information through physical and psychological means—but given that he needed the witch's cooperation, handing her over to them wasn't a wise choice.

The ideal approach would be a contractual arrangement: he would provide what the witch needed, and in return, obtain what he wanted. Having finished his calculations, the man spoke.

"Given your skill, if you're dealing on the black market, it must mean you need money."

"Black market? I'm a law-abiding citizen of the Empire."

Lindsay pushed the man blocking her path aside with one hand. The displaced man raised one eyebrow and grabbed the hand pushing his shoulder. At that moment, a barrier revealed itself. Seeing the faintly glowing jade-green membrane beneath his hand, his eyes lit up.

"A permanent barrier? Impressive skill."

Lindsay snorted and tried to pass by, but the man dangled a lure.

"One million gold. In exchange for making the potions I need, I'll pay one million per bottle."

Lindsay's steady footsteps faltered—and seeing that, the man's lips curled upward.

Lindsay was silently stunned at the astronomical sum.

One million gold—it's not like it grows on trees!

It was an excessive price for just one bottle of potion. The potions Lindsay sold on the Deep Market were already quite expensive. Of course, considering their rarity and effectiveness, the price was reasonable—but given that the average commoner's monthly living expenses were a hundred gold, they were outrageously costly. Yet the man before her was offering ten thousand times that amount.

Clutching her racing heart, Lindsay turned around. Even though she had already extracted gold from Lionel, more was always better.

The man, having regained his composure, crossed his arms and lifted his chin. The pose looked insufferable, but the sum was too large to ignore. With the expression of someone biting into an unripe persimmon, she asked:

"What kind of potion?"

"This place isn't suitable for discussing important matters. Let's move elsewhere."

Lindsay firmly shook her head.

"Why should I trust you and follow you? Suit yourself. I have nothing to lose."

It's a shame, though. But the first step in any deal was making the other party recognize that you had nothing to lose. That was how you avoided being taken for a fool.

At Lindsay's attitude, the man pulled a business card from his pocket and handed it to her.

After checking the card, Lindsay's eyes went wide. The card listed information about a person she knew.

[ Raven Ilbo

President Michael O'Clama

Contact: 01-XXX-X

· Seeking tips on diseases, new medicines, and magical potions. ]

A single emotion spread across Lindsay's face. Her cheekbones rose endlessly, and her lips stretched upward. Her throat trembled with overwhelming excitement.

Suppressing her rising cheekbones, Lindsay steadied her voice. She couldn't afford to seem too excited—that would only make her look suspicious.

"Fine. Lead the way."

"How odd. You're being far too cooperative."

The man looked at the witch suspiciously. He had revealed his identity first in order to persuade her, but even so, her reaction was deeply questionable.

"If you prefer, I can be more difficult."

Lindsay didn't care if he was suspicious. She knew how desperate he was—and didn't even bother making excuses.

"No. Follow me."

The man confirmed the witch was obediently following behind him and secretly signaled his men, positioned around the area, to move.

Lindsay looked around the office, which exuded a somewhat decadent atmosphere.

The carpet laid over the black marble floor, the wooden table that bisected the office, and even the matching desk—all were a deep, vivid red. The furniture and finishes were all luxurious, befitting a director's office, but the owner's obsessive tastes were plainly visible.

A child who suffered severe abuse during the formative years tends to develop an obsessive fixation on one thing—just like the owner of this room.

Then again, born as the illegitimate child of a prestigious noble family in a world with a rigid class system, it would be stranger if he didn't have obsessive tendencies.

All lives under heaven are born with equal weight, yet they are graded and discriminated against by family and bloodline. That was the current state of the novel's world into which Lindsay had been reborn.

We're all human once we're born—why grade us?

Frustrated by the reality, Lindsay sank deep into the sofa's backrest. I need to resolve this disaster quickly, go back home with Nero, and just farm for the next ten years or so.

More than that—why isn't he coming back?

Did he go to prepare documents?

The man who had brought Lindsay to the Raven Ilbo building had left, saying he would fetch some necessary materials. By the time the tea set before Lindsay had gone cold, he had still not returned.

As the waiting time exceeded thirty minutes, Lindsay began to question whether following him had been a good decision.

The moment she saw the business card, she had taken it as an opportunity sent by the gods. She had calculated that handing potions to a man who approached her directly would be faster than waiting for the heroine to come to her through the market by releasing mana-enhancing potions. But...

How much longer do I have to wait here?

If Nero were here, at least she wouldn't be so bored. Just as Lindsay opened her mouth wide to yawn, the tightly shut office door swung open.

With a face dripping with weariness, she asked:

"Did you go to make paper?"

"My apologies. The request comes from a high-ranking person, so the procedures are complicated."

What a joke. 'High-ranking person,' my foot.

Lindsay snorted at the man's brazen lies.

The face altered by the Skin-Change Mask wore a natural expression. What kind of face lay hidden beneath that mask?

"You're not hiding your face, are you?"

"Since I followed you knowing your identity, there's no reason to hide. Let me introduce myself formally. I am Raven—chief of the Raven Information Guild."

The Raven Ilbo, which operated in the light as a plausible newspaper, was a duplicitous organization that gathered information by any means necessary in the shadows.

The reason for its founding could be traced back to the hidden identity of its guild master and president, Michael O'Clama.

Mikael Perdeus.

The illegitimate son of House Perdeus, and the first bastard to inherit the ducal seat—a once-in-a-generation genius. No, not inherited. He had seized it with his own hands.

Mikael's birth mother had revealed his identity in front of the Perdeus family's townhouse. It was a deliberate and malicious act.

Passersby recognized the famously known courtesan of the capital and whispered among themselves—and so, the former Duke of Perdeus's illegitimate child became known to everyone in the Empire.

But at that time, no one could have imagined that the bastard who had stirred up the capital would one day strike down his own father and ascend to the ducal seat himself.

Mikael had taken control of House Perdeus at a young age and expanded his power. One of those forces was the information guild, Raven Ilbo.

Even after claiming the dukedom, he continued to disguise himself as a newspaper publisher, searching for a cure for his childhood friend. It was truly a devoted, pure love, wasn't it?

Among her hazy memories of the novel, Lindsay's recollection of Mikael was relatively clear—just as she knew Lionel, just as she remembered Aria.

Mikael Perdeus was the male protagonist of the novel into which Lindsay had been reborn.

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