30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?! novel Chapter 267

Four days. Short, yet enough time to observe the surroundings and grasp the atmosphere.

And in those four days, Ihan gathered four key pieces of information.

The First Clue

‘There’s... a trace!’

He had confirmed that traces of that perverted bastard—Vampire No. 2—were present in this household.

The man himself probably wasn’t even aware of the traces he had left behind, but they were there.

A stench so putrid, so vile, like tar rotting in the depths of a sewer...

Whether it was the scent of a vampire or simply the stink of his decayed soul, Ihan wasn’t sure.

But regardless, that repulsive odor lingered in certain areas within the mansion.

...However, unlike discovering the scent, obtaining any concrete information about the bastard himself was nearly impossible.

Was he hiding too well? Or had he concealed his identity through some special means?

Whatever the case, it was a thorn in Ihan’s side.

‘Still, what matters is that I found a trace of him.’

Knowing for certain that the bastard was here made all the effort worthwhile.

The Second Clue

‘None of the mansion’s servants are vampires.’

Some of them had learned unique forms of Aura-based combat, like a few peculiar maids or the head gardener.

But that wasn’t Ihan’s concern.

What mattered was that none of them bore the trace of No. 2, and more importantly, there were no signs of them cooperating with vampires.

However, if this fact was flipped on its head—

‘That means the owners of this mansion might be harboring him...’

The owners of the mansion.

In other words, Mordred’s bloodline could be the ones sheltering that degenerate.

But this was something Ihan could only confirm by seeing them directly.

And that’s where the problem lay.

‘Are they hibernating or something?’

The Third Clue

Mordred’s bloodline might not even be in the mansion.

There was a possibility that they were being imprisoned somewhere else.

Ihan hadn’t heard this information from anyone directly.

Rather—

‘The servants themselves don’t seem the least bit concerned about their absent masters. That’s... not normal.’

It was a deduction made through observation.

‘This family is seriously strange.’

It was unnatural.

Servants of noble households—especially those serving a Grand Noble Family—were expected to display unwavering loyalty to their lords.

Yet these people...

They had no sense of devotion whatsoever.

They merely went about their tasks, like NPCs programmed to guard a castle.

It was bizarre.

Utterly peculiar.

Under normal circumstances, Ihan would have liked to confront someone about this unsettling reality...

"Remember this: No matter how curious you become about the lord, the young master, or the young lady, do not show it. If you fail to follow this rule, you will never work in this castle again."

A stern warning from the head maid, given on the day of his employment.

And Ihan had a gut feeling—if he ignored that warning and started asking questions, he’d be kicked out immediately.

It made sense.

No matter how capable someone was, if they couldn’t follow the rules, they had no place in an organization.

Because of this restriction, it was impossible to obtain further information to flesh out his deductions.

At best, he’d have to work for over a year just to get some real answers.

...And Ihan had no intention of wasting that much time.

The Fourth Clue

That’s why—

‘The fourth clue is the most important.’

Swish.

Ihan’s gaze shifted.

The only member of Mordred’s bloodline who did not remain hidden...

The only one who walked around the mansion...

Louise Aiphera de Mordred.

Flinch!

“Ah... Miss, did you need something?”

“......”

“Miss?”

“......”

“...Hmmm.”

The direct heir of the Mordred bloodline.

The only one who might possess hidden knowledge about what was going on.

She could be the key to everything.

However, there was one major problem—

Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap!

“...She sure is fast.”

The moment their eyes met, she bolted.

Making it impossible to hold a conversation.

“Sigh...”

Ihan slumped down in the misty garden, letting out a sigh filled with exhaustion.

"Do not speak with Lady Louise."

“Huh?”

“Don’t ask why. Just don’t interact with her. Ignore her. Got it?”

“...Understood.”

“Good. That’s the proper attitude.”

Seeing Ihan nod in obedience without questioning him, the senior servant seemed pleased.

‘Why do modern kids always have to question everything? If your superior tells you not to do something, you don’t do it. That’s it.’

Muttering such authoritarian nonsense, the senior servant continued talking to himself.

Meanwhile, Ihan—relying on his well-practiced ability to let words go in one ear and out the other—let his mind drift elsewhere.

‘They treat a noble lady like this?’

Was this normal in noble households?

‘Maybe she isn’t the real daughter. Could she be an illegitimate child or something?’

Ihan recalled a few cliché plots from romance fantasy novels he had read in his past life.

‘Is it one of those stories? Where the mother dies during childbirth, and the father and siblings ostracize the youngest child...?’

Or maybe...

‘Was she born talentless, so they abandoned her?’

That was another common trope.

And every time Ihan came across such stories, he found himself irritated by the parents and siblings involved.

Sure, losing a wife during childbirth was tragic, but what crime had the child committed?

Being born without talent?

Since when was that a sin?

A child’s potential wasn’t solely dictated by their innate gifts.

That’s why seeing a child being treated unfairly like this was...!

‘...No. I shouldn’t care.’

Ihan realized he was overthinking things.

There was no way this was one of those ridiculous soap-opera plots.

And even if it was—it wasn’t his problem.

He was here for a mission, not to babysit a kid.

‘Stay focused on the goal.’

He needed to remind himself of his purpose.

Splash!

“...I knew this would happen!”

Without hesitation, Ihan dived into the water to save the drowning child.

***

“Achoo!”

“Dry yourself off with this towel and drink some tea, miss. That way, you won’t catch a cold.”

“...Thank you.”

“No need to be so formal. I’m just a mere servant.”

“Nee...”

“......”

“Ah...”

The young girl, with her damp, disheveled hair resembling that of a drenched puppy, blinked her wide eyes before shutting her mouth.

She had been told not to speak formally, yet she had done so instinctively.

But instead of reprimanding her, Ihan only offered a bitter smile.