Chapter 11:

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When Victor, having lost the ghost, sat lost in rare deep thought, the sound of footsteps clicking against the pavement outside the alley suddenly caught his attention.

It was the familiar sound of high heels.

As he lifted his head, he saw his assistant standing there with a look of utter disdain in her eyes.

“…Mister Victor, or should I say, pervert. What on earth is that look?”

“Ah, assistant. Would you happen to have brought some clothes for me? As you can see, I got hit harder than I expected.”

“I thought this might happen, so I did bring something… but I don’t think you’ll need full combat gear.”

The assistant handed Victor a thick coat, though she couldn’t completely hide her astonishment.

Even though the ghost had disappeared, Victor hadn’t given up the chase. Scattered bills littered the ground around him, an undeniable clue to what had transpired.

Was the operation a failure?

As the weight of the situation settled in, the woman’s sharp eyes narrowed in frustration.

“A disappointing outcome. If we had more time with the tracker, we wouldn’t have needed to rush after it so desperately.”

“Well, you can’t expect a film device to have a long duration. If its appearance were more conspicuous, the ghost would have noticed right away.”

Victor shook his head lightly, as if to comfort his disheartened assistant.

Their method for pinpointing the ghost’s location had been simple.

When the ghost attacked the apprentice earlier, Victor had slipped a counterfeit bill with a film-shaped tracker attached into the apprentice’s wallet.

The tracker, however, had its limitations. It couldn’t house a battery, which meant they could only track the ghost for four hours.

If the tracker lost its signal unexpectedly during that time, they’d have no choice but to wait endlessly in the alleys for another opportunity to encounter the ghost.

Because of this urgency, Victor had been forced to chase the ghost, clad only in his bathrobe, determined to finish the mission.

“So, how do you plan to explain this to the client, Mister Pervert? The request was to either capture the ghost or uncover its identity. You’ve failed on both fronts.”

“Hmm. That is a problem. Could I blame it on an unexpectedly formidable opponent? Or perhaps just bad luck?”

“…None of this would have happened if someone hadn’t decided to take a bath right before the operation.”

“Ugh, d-don’t press on my forehead like that. It hurts…”

Victor avoided the assistant’s pressing gaze, though the situation was clear: if he hadn’t been in a robe—at least wearing proper clothes—he wouldn’t have been outmaneuvered so easily by the ghost.

For someone with a 90% success rate in his assignments, this failure wasn’t just embarrassing—it was a significant blow to his reputation.

“Hah… Well, it’s meaningless to argue over it now. Honestly, I thought you could succeed even naked, Mister Pervert.”

“Ahem… Sorry for not living up to your faith.”

But what’s done is done. Dwelling on past mistakes was fruitless.

The assistant, with her professional mindset, pressed her temples to calm herself before addressing him again.

“So, what was your impression of the ghost? It was practically like an overly eager peacock courting you.”

“Hmm, their every move was commendable. A rare gem in this city, I’d say. From just a brief encounter, I could tell they possessed exceptional skill, unwavering conviction, and formidable mental strength.”

“That… sounds impressive. Were they really that highly skilled?”

“Oh, absolutely. I wish our apprentice could emulate even half of what that ghost is. I’d love to collaborate with them, if only I had the chance.”

Victor’s praise for the ghost was entirely genuine, stemming from several observations.

Despite operating in the underworld—a place steeped in selfishness—the ghost helped others without expecting anything in return, only to vanish immediately afterward.

The ghost also displayed outstanding abilities. Whether the opponent was a mere thug or a dangerous vampire, they only subdued them, never overstepping bounds.

Even at the very last moment, when Victor fell from the rooftop, he landed in a garbage heap filled with soft trash bags, as if the ghost had calculated his safety.

Their nature, much closer to the outside world than the underworld, made it impossible for Victor not to admire them.

“Hah, truthfully, I wish I had more time to spend on this…”

“That’s not an option. You have to leave this city the day after tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

Victor scratched the back of his head in disappointment.

Unfortunately, he had a prior assignment from over a month ago, requiring him to leave Nighthaven soon.

This job was something he had accepted casually, intending only to fill time. He couldn’t afford to dedicate any more effort to it.

If only he’d known, he might’ve cleared his schedule…

After some deliberation, Victor let out a resigned sigh and muttered, “Hmm… In that case, I’ll have to leave this to a trustworthy friend.”

“Mister Pervert—no, Victor. Do you have friends?”

“Hearing that with such a serious face hurts a bit… Well, let’s call them an old comrade.”

Victor glanced at his assistant’s skeptical expression and continued.

“Have you ever heard of Raven?”

Victor smirked, his thoughts filled with the joy of seeing an old comrade. He was confident that Raven could handle the ghost.

If the ghost, now unknowingly entrusted to Raven, had learned about this development, they might’ve screamed internally, “Wait, that’s the protagonist!”

But for now, no one was aware of such irony.

The wheels of fate continued to turn.

A Few Minutes Later

In the western labyrinth, the largest beastkin faction, the Black Bamboo Society, had just received Victor’s report.

As soon as Wang Qian, the leader of the organization, heard the result, her long rabbit ears stood up sharply, and she let out a piercing shriek.

“W-What? Victor—a Double Number—failed to catch that ghost?! Whyyyy?! Why did something like that have to appear in our territory?! I hate it! I absolutely hate it!”

Her reaction was akin to someone spotting an infestation of cockroaches in their newly moved-in home. It was clear how much she despised the news.

“Miss, please calm down and maintain your composure,” one of her subordinates said.

“C-Calm down?! How can I possibly calm down?! The man who can singlehandedly destroy a battleship just gave up! This means an absurd, walking bomb has entered our territory!”

Despite being the leader of a notorious organization in the underworld, Wang Qian’s timid personality betrayed her position. This utterly despairing news made her want to cry on the spot.

What is a Double Number Fixer?

A Double Number Fixer was a designation for those ranked in the top two digits of over 10,000 registered fixers worldwide.

These individuals were practically myths, boasting feats like:

– Sinking massive warships singlehandedly.

– Singlehandedly decimating armies of an entire nation.

– Bringing cities to near-total ruin.

These were beings who defied human limits, more akin to superhumans or monsters.

To someone like Wang Qian, who only inherited her position due to her father’s influence, such people were the stuff of nightmares.

And now, to hear that even a named Double Number Fixer like Victor had failed?

This could only mean that the ghost was equally monstrous—an unthinkable being.

“H-H-How… What do I do now…?”

“Miss.”

“B-But Victor failed! What are we supposed to do?! We’re all going to die! The ghost is going to rip us apart and suck out our guts!”

“Miss, please…”

The scene was a disgraceful one, far from what one would expect of a leader. Her subordinate, a lizardman beastkin, sighed before grabbing Wang Qian’s long ears and pulling hard from behind.

“OW! Owowow! I’m sorry! I’ll pull myself together! I promise!”

“Please listen carefully. According to Victor, the ghost seems to have a relatively moderate disposition. Most of the victims so far were low-grade thugs or vampires. Victor also estimates the ghost to be roughly at the level of a Triple Number Fixer.”

“Ugh… Even if it’s ‘just’ a Triple Number, they’re still dangerous…”

“Yes, but there’s a significant gap between Double and Triple Numbers. The ghost is unlikely to be as dangerous as you fear.”

The lizardman subordinate calmly assessed the situation.

The ghost hadn’t exhibited excessively destructive tendencies so far.

In three months of activity, no one had suffered injuries beyond unconsciousness. Even then, those affected were lowlife thugs or petty vampires known for bullying others.

While a Double Number Fixer was akin to a walking missile or a tactical weapon, a Triple Number Fixer was more manageable. With the right conditions, even common underworld figures could potentially overcome them.

The lizardman decided it was time to turn the tables.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Miss, we should spread some bad rumors about the ghost.”

“Bad rumors?”

“Yes. Then, we’ll demand that the ghost reveal their identity to dispel them.”

“But… Do you think the ghost will comply?”

“They don’t have to. If they refuse, it gives us an excuse to claim the rumors are true and put a bounty on them.”

The lizardman’s reasoning was straightforward.

Even if the ghost’s victims had deserved their punishment, the Black Bamboo Society couldn’t tolerate someone operating unchecked in their territory.

The more people the ghost helped, the weaker the society’s influence in the western labyrinth would become.

Thus, the lizardman’s solution was to subtly spread rumors about the ghost’s alleged wrongdoing. Using those rumors as justification, they could demand the ghost’s identity.

If the ghost revealed themselves, it would be a win. If not, they could leverage the rumors to place a bounty on the ghost.

Once the bounty was public, mercenaries and bounty hunters from outside the labyrinth would inevitably be drawn in, tightening the net around the ghost.

“Fine… we’ll do that,” Wang Qian said, steadying her nerves. “Sorry, ghost, but we’re going to spread some bad rumors about you.”

After pulling herself together, Wang Qian ordered her beastkin network to spread stories suggesting the ghost might not be as benevolent as they seemed.

She also issued a proclamation under the Black Bamboo Society’s name:

Within one week, the ghost must appear before the society to clarify the rumors or face consequences.

Though there was minor backlash from those who had been helped by the ghost, the society’s influence prevailed.

When the week passed without the ghost showing up, the society officially placed a bounty on them for capture.

This marked the moment, three months into her second life, that she became a wanted criminal.

‘What?! This can’t be real! Why am I worth this much?! I could buy 40 beds with that money!’

To the ghost, the bounty was an unfair bolt from the blue.

Meanwhile…

As word of the ghost’s bounty spread through the underworld, a pale-faced man grabbed one of the wanted posters, crumpling it in his fist with a fierce scowl.

“So, this is the one who crushed our grand plan…”

The man’s name was Drakel.

He was the leader of Bloody Pool, the faction behind the ghouls and vampires that the ghost had dismantled.

Drakel’s ambitious plan to unleash countless ghouls, enslave masses through blood, and establish new vampire territory had been utterly destroyed.

Worse, his hideout had been exposed, forcing him to flee Nighthaven.

Though backing down temporarily was the smarter move, his pride wouldn’t allow it.

Instead, he swore revenge.

“I’ll deliver bloody vengeance… on this damn underworld and everything in it!”

And so…

While the Black Bamboo Society trembled, bounty hunters clamored for an extraordinary reward, and a vampire leader vowed revenge, the ghost herself was grappling with overwhelming embarrassment.

‘This is mortifying. I want to die. Why is this happening to me…?’

The source of her distress?

She was currently wearing an incredibly humiliating maid costume, entirely against her will.

To understand why, we need to go back a week…

It happened about a week after she had escaped from the pervert.

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