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

Gordon tossed the black velvet into the water, but if that counted as bait, it was utterly incompetent, merely lying on the surface and playing dead.

However, the Blackwater River took the bait.

A shadow suddenly appeared.

Next is the second course.

more and more.

The entire river has gained an inexplicable vitality.

Monsters of all sizes emerged one by one from the bottom of the water and swam toward the wet black velvet.

Deepclaws are vile monsters, always fighting alone, despising their own kind, and when they meet, they only think about who will eat whom. But now, they are like a group of devout pilgrims.

At the same time, the monsters that were still lingering in the basement beneath the old house also left, returning to the Blackwater River with the current.

At that moment, they didn't care about the corpses, flesh, and bone marrow; they only wanted that drop of water.

Seeing so many monsters appear, Vera drew her sword and stood protectively in front of Gordon and Charlotte, ready to strike.

Logically, they should have attacked the shore, or at least come to take a look, but this time, none of the monsters paid her any attention. This made her killing intent lose its weight.

In the river, the Deepclaws swarmed like fish, their gray, arched backs occasionally surfacing.

They kept extending their claws, trampling on each other, but they didn't fight. In the end, they circled the velvet piece, completely absorbed, and spun together as they sank to the dark riverbed...

  

A final splash appeared on the water's surface, then it returned to calm.

The Blackwater River is now calm.

It was as if nothing had happened.

"What... exactly... happened...?" Evans said haltingly.

He now realized that the great terror that could destroy the entire Monford family had been lying in the old house's collection room for twenty years.

The night wind blew across the river, carrying with it the stench of the Blackwater River.

Gordon ended the experiment and turned to face the crowd.

He was expressionless.

"It seems," Gordon said, "that the problem isn't the Deepclaws or the basement leak at all."

People have different feelings.

When Charlotte stood on the shore and looked at Gordon, her gaze was completely different.

She initially invited Gordon to her ancestral home in Montfort to broaden his horizons.

She imagined it would be a classic adventure: a mysterious old house, bloodthirsty monsters, professional hunters, and brave young men and women. She even fantasized about witnessing thrilling battles with Gordon, where blood would fly everywhere, just hoping it wouldn't splatter on her skirt.

But what is it now? She felt like she was seeing a completely new world, hidden deep underwater, dark and foul-smelling, and that didn't care about her name at all.

"It seems the thing attracting the monster is upstairs, not in the basement," Vera said curtly. "The cook and the butler's dog died for nothing."

"..." Evans sighed.

"Let's go back to the meeting." Gordon turned around.

Standing by the river in shock is pointless; it's just a waste of body heat. Lundnim is especially cold tonight.

"There's dinner too," Vera said. "Going hungry will only make us come up with bad ideas."

In her view, this is the thing that needs to be addressed as soon as possible in this disaster.

……

The candles in the dining room were relit, casting everyone's shadows on the wall. Evans ordered hot tea to be brought in; if a butler couldn't even prepare tea, it was tantamount to declaring himself unfit for the position.

Charlotte sat on the left side of the long table, her fingertips resting on her cup, her expression deep and lost in thought.

Gordon sat on the other side.

He was still that poor student, but now, everyone's eyes were on him. The heir of the Monford family, the Source Hunter, the old butler, and so many servants—everyone was waiting for him to speak.

"Let's check the time first," Gordon said. "Did the silverfish box only start leaking in the last two days?"

“Yes,” Evans said. “For the previous twenty years, it was very well-behaved and never caused any trouble.”

"It might just be a prelude to something big."

"If we leave it in the ancestral home, will the Deepclaws multiply?" Charlotte couldn't help but ask.

“Of course,” Gordon said. “Today it’s just the neighbors. But the Blackwater River flows up through Ryder City, Windsor, and Old Bull Ferry. If they just pass on a message to each other, the entire Deepclaw will be coming to visit. They might already be on their way.”

Evans' face had lost all color.

His worst-case scenario was simply to abandon the ancestral home and seal off the basement.

It now appears that they are facing an endless invasion of Deepclaw demons.

"Then seal it with wax immediately," Evans said. "The ancestral home has a safe with three doors; we can put it in a sealed box."

When faced with problems that cannot be handled, lock yourself away and isolate yourself from the world.

For centuries, this has been how nobles have dealt with scandals, illegitimate children, and family relatives with albinism.

"Very good, very good," Gordon said. "This trick will work against thieves and reporters, and it's not even afraid of fire. But have you considered that the entire Blackwater River responded to it just now?"

Evans fell silent.

"And we have absolutely no idea how it makes the summons," Gordon said. "Could it be a scent, vibration, sound waves—some kind of call we can't hear, but the Deepclaws would understand? If it gets desperate, could it send someone a damp, dark dream?"

Evans remained silent.

Gordon's words were harsh. What was even more unpleasant was that they made sense.

Vera had just swallowed a piece of cold meat.

"Then we'll keep watch," Vera said. "We'll kill them one by one."

"You killed five tonight, but there are many more in the river; you can't count them one by one," Gordon said.

"A few dozen isn't a lot."

“Don’t forget this is just for one day,” Gordon said. “Tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that, endlessly. Unless Deepclaws are on your menu, this is a complete loss; you’ll be so busy you won’t even have time to eat.”

"Then I'll quit," Vera said without hesitation. Gordon was right; people can't miss out on eating.

According to Vera's understanding, the Silver Fish Box is either a strange object, a creation of Source, or it contains Source itself, radiating terrifying spiritual corruption outwards. Either way, it's a terrible situation.

"Then let's notify the Department of Extraterrestrial Affairs," Charlotte said. "Since it's beyond our capabilities, let a professional agency take over."

"Miss..." Evans hesitated.

"I know what you're worried about," Charlotte said, "but if this drags on any longer, it won't just be a cook and a dog who die."

She was very familiar with this process.

At her prestigious girls' school and the Royal Academy of Sciences, she never encountered any real trouble. The clever adults would handle everything perfectly, and she only needed to sit back and wait for their instructions.

Evans's expression grew increasingly desperate.

"The investigators will turn the Montfort family home upside down," he said in a low voice. "The family can't withstand that kind of public investigation."

"What if I don't tell you?" Charlotte asked helplessly.

"Then the Deepclaws will keep coming," Gordon said, "until the Bureau itself comes to them, or you finally can't take it anymore."

The room was completely silent.

The three roads have been laid out.

Sealing off means throwing the embers deep into the woodpile.

To hold out to the death is like a sword against a great river.

Reporting means handing over your house to a stranger for inspection.

Seeing this, Charlotte couldn't help but feel a chill.

She now understands that the name Monford is not a magic key.

Charlotte instinctively looked toward Gordon.

Very strange.

He was still that poor student, yet he acted as if he had everything under control.

It's as if you've stood at a certain height, reviewed everyone's proposals, and still feel they're insufficient.

She guessed that Gordon might be a little nervous, but he was too busy thinking about how to maximize his profits to worry about it.

"Do you have a way?" Charlotte asked softly.

"It's not necessarily a solution," Gordon said, putting down his teacup. "The main problem is that all three of the solutions you mentioned have a common blind spot."

"What?" Evans frowned.

"You're all thinking about how to stop the Deepclaws," Gordon said.

"Otherwise what?"

"The question is, where did they come from?" Gordon said. "You should know that all I just threw into the river was a piece of cloth."

"So..." Vera said instinctively, "...the box isn't necessary."

The room fell silent, and new ideas slowly began to sprout in everyone's minds.

“Yes, you noticed it too,” Gordon said. “The stuff seeping out of the box was of equal weight. All those Deepclaws just now didn’t even bother to look at us, chasing after that insignificant piece of cloth like dogs.”

Charlotte's heart pounded. She sensed an idea, and though fear still lingered in her heart, something brighter and more dangerous surfaced beneath it.

"This means..." Evans suddenly realized something, and an incredulous look finally appeared on his face.

"In my opinion, we're about to strike it rich," Gordon said, putting down his teacup.