Unable to repay my student loans, I had no choice but to work part-time as a demon hunter.

At the entrance of the old house, Miss Hunter glanced at Gordon.

"You reacted quickly." She licked her lips. "...I was going to smash that butler...or someone else...I was waiting for a scream, but I didn't hear one."

"I wanted to smash it too." Gordon pointed at the water monkey on the ground. "So, water pipe problems actually have hands and feet?"

Evans' expression worsened.

What kind of behavior is this? Such a disgusting thing, such a shameful family scandal, actually appears so openly in front of our own door.

Although it looks very similar to a human, its mouth is completely alien, filled with rings of fine barbs running from the outside in, just like a lamprey.

"Get it away," Evans ordered. "Quickly!"

The guards glanced at the monster and took turns shielding each other in front of them.

"...Miss Vera Cartrett," Evans turned to the hunter, "you should be fighting a monster right now."

"The battle is over." Vera squatted on the steps, looking troubled.

"Where's Chef Griff?" Evans suddenly noticed the missing person. "He volunteered to come down with you."

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"Oh, the one in the white hat," Vera said. "He was torn to pieces by the monsters, each grabbing one of their arms."

"Miss Cartrett," Evans complained, "could you be a little more tactful when reporting such tragedies? For example, say 'Griff was a brave man,' 'but he met with misfortune,' 'he didn't make it until reinforcements arrived,' and only say 'he died' at the very end."

Vera tilted her head and thought for two seconds.

"I understand," she said.

"Then, what about my best hunting dog, Caroline?" Evans asked nervously.

"Caroline is a brave dog..." Vera recited the sentence she had just heard.

"..." Evans stumbled.

Gordon nodded. He felt he would get along well with Vera.

"So," Charlotte regained her composure, "what exactly happened inside?"

"The basement walls collapsed," Vera gestured. "The river rushed in, and these things rushed in with it. There are countless monsters."

"They're not done killing them yet?" Evans asked in despair.

"I killed four," Vera said, pointing to the one next to Gordon. "That's the fifth, and there are many more. As for killing them all? Of course not."

Evans let out a mournful cry.

Gordon crouched down and carefully examined the "water monkey's" neck.

[Head wound. The angle is tricky; the assailant is not far away.]

He noticed that the edges of the wound were emanating a black chill, and a faint light was constantly flickering.

It looked as if it had been completely pierced by some kind of terrifying weapon.

This must be the effect of the source substance.

As a Source Hunter, it's not surprising that Vera carries Source weapons.

Gordon glanced at her again and then noticed the black sword beside her.

"What is this thing...?" Charlotte looked at the terrifying creature that was both humanoid and fish-like, feeling very uneasy.

"Anotherworldly being," Evans uttered a perfectly valid but ultimately meaningless statement.

"I know. People at the old fish market call it 'the mermaid in the mud,'" the doorman said.

"...This is 'Father's finger'," said a servant named Harold.

"Isn't it 'Water Monkey'? That's what I've called it all my life." Vera frowned, unconcerned about the name of her prey.

"This is a Deepclaw Demon," Gordon examined it. "It has webbed fingers, scales on its back, and a human-like appearance. It has lungs, but they've shrunk. It usually lives at the bottom of the Blackwater River or in any sewer in this city."

Gordon's words, with their academic tone, dispelled the original strong atmosphere of folklore and supernatural tales.

"How did you know?" Charlotte asked, surprised. "Aren't we studying the same major?"

"Because I listened in class," Gordon said.

Charlotte blushed and was momentarily speechless.

"Deep Claw Demon...you're a student?" Vera savored the word, then looked Gordon up and down. She'd never been to school in her life, except to kill someone.

"Yes," Gordon nodded. "But while other students are exploring knowledge, I'm exploring ways to make money."

Vera nodded; she was also trying to find a way to make some money.

"If it's for the money," Vera said, "then don't work for these people. They're stingy."

"?" Evans was furious.

"The money you gave me was only enough to let me go in and take a look," Vera said. "Now I can see clearly that it's not just one, it's a whole bunch, and the roof is leaking. If you want me to keep killing, you'll have to pay more."

Evans was about to start haggling.

"And give me the food right away," she continued.

"Dinner?" Evans repeated. "You're having dinner before you've finished your mission?"

"Yes." Vera said very seriously, even revealing a hint of fierceness in her eyes as if she were possessing her food. "Give me a big piece of meat."

Gordon understands that feeling.

For the past two days, all he'd eaten was the bread Charlotte had given him, barely enough to sustain his vital signs. Now, those loaves of bread were shrouded in a halo of holiness in his memory. Besides, the presence of this extraordinary object in his head was taking a toll on his body.

"I suggest we make dinner right away," Gordon suggested.

Vera gave Gordon a deep look and nodded in strong agreement.

At this moment, the two did not need to shake hands to form a temporary alliance.

"Evans, prepare dinner," Charlotte ordered.

"Miss," Evans said, "I still think now is not the best time to eat; we should wait until the crisis is over."

"If the house is in such bad shape that we can't even prepare a hot meal," Charlotte said coldly, "we should notify the agency immediately."

Evans sighed. If the investigators from the agency came, the house would be seized, everything would be registered and filed, and then the ancestors' conspiracy, the grandfather's debts, the father's lovers, Charlotte's inheritance dispute... all of these would be in the newspapers within days.

Five minutes later, more lights came on at the Montfort ancestral home.

……

Gordon took his seat, and the servants brought him dinner.

A white tablecloth draped the table, its edges hanging neatly. A row of silver candlesticks stood in the center, their flames flickering gently. On the walls on either side, portraits of Monford family members looked down upon the group: men gripping swords, women holding fans, and children cradling a small dog with a pained expression.

On the table, bread, hot soup, roast beef, stew, and cold ham are on display.

Gordon forked a piece of beef and tasted it with satisfaction.

Really delicious!

He swallowed the meat, and his energy gradually returned. The chill, drowsiness, and anxiety about debt slowly dissipated, allowing Gordon the energy to think about serious matters.

The Deep Claw Demon's attack on the ancestral home...

Charlotte tore at her bread, but had no appetite.

Vera was eating her fifth dish.

White bread, roast meat, even the rosemary sauce used for garnish—once locked onto by her greyish-white eyes, would vanish without a trace in the next second.

She had absolutely no table manners; knives and forks seemed to her only as decorative obstacles on the table, used when necessary and avoided when not. She ate extremely wildly, like a wolf that hadn't eaten for three days.

These foods may have contributed to her tall and slender figure, but they still cannot fully explain her amazing appetite.

Source-type disease... Gordon guessed.

It is said that Source Hunters use the power of monsters to strengthen themselves, but many people are unable to control the power of Source and will pay a price to some extent.

Vera's speed and strength were already evident at the doorway. Now, it seems her bill is probably written in her stomach.

"I just want to know, can the basement entrance still be sealed off? I can hire more people, planks, nails, bricks..." Charlotte put down her bread, her gaze fixed on Vera.

"What basement? If you mean that place where you go down two flights of stairs... that leads to a huge pond now." Vera's mouth was stuffed full.