Ah, this damn Random Checker.

  I squinted at the blue screen above Remlend's head, unsure what to make of the information I had just learned.

  The beauty of the Random Checker was that it could provide information that would have been otherwise impossible to gather. However, it was entirely too unreliable. Even if I could now select the person I wanted to run a Random Checker, there was a possibility of failure, just as had happened with Claude Noire the day prior.

  And when it did work? I might get information I had no interest in learning in the first place.

  During the last round, for instance, the Random Checker became a fountain of useless trivia about the people around me. I learned the birthdays, favorite foods, and banal secrets of Frey Manor's staff and random strangers I'd passed in the street. Of the two guards usually stationed at the manor's entryway, I discovered the one with the orange beard had a severe bee allergy. The younger guard secretly pined for one of the maids—who, through another Random Checker, I found out was equally smitten with him. Yet, despite an entire round's worth of longing glances, neither did a damned thing about their feelings.

  I also learned some genuinely unnecessary information that I wished the Ignorance is Bliss could have just wiped from my memory. For example, the carriage driver who usually took me into town? He had a toe-clippings fetish. Thanks for that insight, Random Checker. Truly.

  So, when I activated the Random Checker on Remlend, I'd hoped for something enlightening—maybe a clue as to why he'd killed seventy-two people or whether I needed to worry about the safety of my loved ones. However, I also didn't have high expectations of what I'd learn, given the lackluster track record of what I'd gained through this ability thus far.

  Yet today, the Random Checker decided to drop a real bombshell.

  [ Remlend Bland has a secret identity. ]

  I blinked, rereading the text, and then rereading it again.

  [ Remlend Bland is also known as the "Toy Fairy". ]

  Rather than offering any bit of clarity, the Random Checker handed me a whole new heap of questions.

  The Toy Fairy. Remlend Bland was the Toy Fairy?

  When I was a child, Micah dismissed the Toy Fairy as a cute little myth—a made-up figure parents used to entertain their kids during the harsh winter months. Supposedly, the Toy Fairy delivered gifts to good children at the turn of the year, while the reality was that parents or guardians were the ones sneaking in the treats.

  But the Toy Fairy's legend had abruptly become real in East Genise, where the destitute and orphaned had no parents to leave gifts. Five years ago, gifts began appearing beside the beds of impoverished children: toys, shoes, small trinkets, and blankets. No one knew how or why. The gifts just… appeared. And because no one could recall who had left them, the story of the Toy Fairy went from a comforting bedtime tale to a miraculous reality that East Genisen children prayed to.

  As ridiculous as it was, the kids in East Genise even set up makeshift temples to honor their benevolent Toy Fairy and offer their sincere requests and prayers.

  Of course, there were speculations as to the truth, as the toys children received were evidently purchased from shops and merchants within Genise, rather than being supplied by some mythical being. Most of the whisperings among adults suggested that the charitable and child-loving Krok Tomfrees was the man behind the gifts. And while Krok Tomfrees had his secret operations regarding destitute children, he was undoubtedly no Toy Fairy.

  But to think that Remlend Bland—quiet, unmemorable Remlend, who I had also just learned has killed seventy-two people—was the Toy Fairy all along?

  My eyes shifted downward, taking in Remlend's appearance, which I forgot as quickly as I took in.

  "Is something the matter, young master Luca?" he asked, his voice as calm and unassuming as ever.

  I shook my head, still processing the dual-hit of revelations dropped on me back to back.

  "No, I was just thinking… perhaps I should give you a raise or something," I mused, taking in my surroundings within the bustling kitchen, which was packed with staff in the midst of dinner preparation. "You can go deliver the tea to Duncan now."

  "You are much too kind, young master." Remlend gave a polite bow before slipping out, the tray balanced effortlessly in his hands. I watched him disappear through the doorway, his presence fading so quickly it was almost unsettling.

  "Which one of you took my knife? I had it right here!" a loud voice bellowed from the far end of the kitchen.

  Despite the singular outburst, the chorus of chopping, sizzling, and clattering dishes carried on a in a steady background rhythm.

  I frowned, my gaze landing on a young cook rhythmically reducing a bunch of parsley to a fine, powdery green. Even if Remlend was paid well, I couldn't fathom how he was bankrolling playing the Toy Fairy, and giving away all those toys.

  Then again, my other attendant, Jasper, was also in such a cushy financial position so much so that I was baffled by why he insisted on being an attendant to me, albeit not a great one.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Perhaps Remlend is using his curse to be unmemorable to earn some extra coin on the side? A talent like his, honed in the shadows, could be lucrative... though the nature of such "extra work" could very well be troubling. Seventy-two deaths didn't exactly scream harmless side hustle.

  "Young Master Luca, is there something you need?" The voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

  I turned to find the head chef standing before me. Her thin frame and short, tightly curled blonde hair only slightly softened her stern demeanor. A black handkerchief was tied snugly around her head, completing the practical look of my grandmother's best chef.

  "Yes," I said, regaining focus. "I wanted to speak with Arnold Bumblefudge."

  She raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on the odd request. "He's in the outdoor patio kitchen," she replied, jerking her thumb toward a door at the back of the room.

  "Outdoor patio kitchen?" I echoed, blinking in surprise. I hadn't even realized such a space existed at my grandmother's villa.

  "Yes. Given Arnold's… particular culinary style, he's been provided with a separate space. It keeps things simpler for everyone."

  "Thank you," I said.

  As I turned toward the door, I caught sight of a sunflower in a vase on the counter. Its vibrant yellow seemed almost out of place amid the chaos of the kitchen, but it reminded me of something important: Remlend's Wallflower curse was no trivial matter.

  After the incident with Denise, Micah had investigated all of the staff in the previous round, so if he hadn't uncovered anything notable to mention to me at that time, then whatever secrets Remlend had might not have been worth serious consideration. Or something had gone overlooked.

  If Remlend's curse made it impossible for anyone to remember him for long, vital details could have easily slipped through the cracks. The Wallflower curse wasn't something to scoff at.

  [[ System, please set a reminder for me the next time it rains: Have Freida Stran conduct a full background check into Remlend. ]]

  If Micah's investigation hadn't dug up anything, it was better to try another avenue.

  Satisfied with my plan, I pushed open the door and stepped outside.

  * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

  "I'm diving into the cave today, and that is final," Deanna declared to Chase. She pulled her jet-black hair into a sleek ponytail and zipped up her diving suit with a sharp, practiced motion.

  The cavern Jasper, Deanna, and Chase stood in was alive and active. Overhead, an avalanche of bright light stones cascaded from the walls and ceiling, bathing the cave in an eerie luminescence reminiscent of moonlight. The room's central focus was a still, clear pool of water at the far end, its surface so unnaturally smooth that it resembled polished glass. The glow from the stones above danced faintly in the water as if hinting at unseen depths.

  Deanna Daylan, third-youngest of the Daylan royals, looked completely different from her younger half-brother Chase. Where his soft violet hair and bronzed complexion reflected a certain warmth, Deanna's appearance was stark and commanding. Her hair was as black as underground oil, contrasting sharply with her almost sickly white skin. The siblings' only shared feature was their flawlessly sculpted features, inherited from their mother, Queen Yadana Daylan.

  Jasper glanced at a group of three other suited-up individuals who were reviewing a large map on a table some distance away. The markings on the map were almost indecipherable from where he stood, but he could tell it was a detailed diagram of the cave's treacherous underwater passages. Beyond the table, on the cave's perimeter, stood at least three dozen onlookers.

  "There's quite a lot of attention on this dive," Jasper observed, crossing his arms. It was his first remark since being introduced to Chase's sister and listening to Chase attempting to persuade Deanna not to dive.

  "There is!" Deanna's face lit up, her lips curling into a sharp, eager grin. "And that's exactly why it has to be today. We've already delayed twice, and this is our last chance."

  "You're going to die," Chase stated with a dark expression on his face.

  Deanna turned toward him, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "What, did you finally awaken whatever prophesied power your cult's been whispering about and gain the ability to see the future?"

  "Yes," Chase replied, his expression deadpan.

  She stared at him for a moment before sighing.

  "Well, even if I'm going to die, I have to go down there," she said. "Today is the last day this cave will be accessible—tomorrow, it'll seal up and remain closed for another three centuries. By that time, I'll for certain be dead."

  "Isn't your life worth more than whatever is down there?" Chase argued.

  Deanna laughed—a bright, almost melodic sound that echoed sharply off the cavern walls.

  "Oh, Chase," she said, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of her eye, "my life is but a speck of dust in the wind compared to what lies beneath that water."

  "What exactly is down there?" Jasper asked, his curiosity piqued.

  Deanna turned to him, her expression shifting into one of conspiratorial excitement again. "Have you ever wondered what the world was like before the Flinx calendar?"

  “You mean the Draak Era?” Jasper ventured.

  "Yes, but even earlier," Deanna replied, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "Before the Draak Era, before anything, we know today… How did our world come to be?"

  "And the answer is down there?" Jasper asked.

  "In a way," Deanna replied, picking up a waterproof backpack and slinging it over her shoulders. "At the very least, a hint to what was before our world came to be is down there. Ancient scriptures, written by different civilizations in different parts of the world, have written about this one artifact—people have attempted to secure it every couple of centuries when the cavern walls shift."

  "But no one has been successful thus far," Chase said grimly.

  Deanna smiled at him sadly. "Not yet."

  "Princess Deanna!" One of the suited divers called out, waving her over. "We're ready to begin!"

  Deanna turned to Chase, patting his shoulder as she passed him. "I'll be back, little brother. And when I return, I'll have made history."

  Chase let out a long, weary sigh, his shoulders sagging. "I knew she'd be like this."

  "Can't you use your power to stop her?" Jasper asked, lowering his voice.

  Chase stared at him, his eyes hidden by the circular eyeshades, as though he'd suggested something utterly preposterous. "She'd kill me."

  Jasper blinked, unsure if Chase was joking. Judging by his tone and what he could see of his expression, he probably was not.

  Well, she is a Daylan princess, after all.

  Jasper clasped his hands behind his head, leaning back slightly. "So, what's the plan now?"

  Chase's face lit up with a spark of mischief. "What else? We make a bet."

  "A bet?" Jasper repeated, narrowing his eyes.

  "Of course," Chase said with a grin, producing a coin from his pocket. "I bet she dies, and you bet she lives."

  Ah.

  Jasper shook his head.

  "Look, I don't know what Luca's told you, but my luck doesn't work like that. It works best when cards, coins, or actual games are involved. Betting on someone's life isn't going to work.

  "No worries," Chase replied, pulling out a golden coin from his pocket. His smile didn't falter for a second. "I'll find a way to turn it into an interesting game."

  Ch 202 on Patreon.