The first thing Baston did was to move the body. Levan's corpse quickly disappeared into the silent void inside the old book.
The moment the body crossed that boundary, the room felt strangely lighter. The air no longer carried the faint and metallic scent of death. The man who had controlled an entire supply network and who had fooled the people alike for years, had vanished as if he had never existed.
Only he remained as the sole witness. Even though so, he swore to never testify about anything.
For several seconds, Baston simply stood there.
The silence inside the room felt different now. It was not peaceful and calm but it became hollow. It was the kind of quiet that followed a sudden storm.
A moment ago, another man had still been breathing here. Now, that existence had been erased so completely that even the air seemed unsure how to behave.
He slowly exhaled after what he had done. He had killed before but this time was different.
Here, Levan's death carried the consequences far stranger than the guilt. The magic contracts, the hidden factions, and the unknown forces all existed beneath the surface. If even a single step of his plan failed, the result would not simply lead toward the investigation.
It could become a disaster.
For that reason, he carefully scanned the room once more.
There were no witnesses, no residual magic fluctuations, and no traces that could be connected directly to him. Only then, he continued with the next stage of his drama.
The assistant's corpse was left behind since that body still had a role to play.
Baston stepped over it without a trace of hesitation. His mind had already begun constructing the next stage of the plan long before Levan stopped breathing.
From the book's storage space, a puppet emerged. Without pondering for a few seconds, the transformation happened quickly.
Within moments, the puppet's body stretched. Its facial features were shifting like a soft wax beneath the invisible fingers. The hair darkened and the bone structure changed plus the skin tone was adjusted.
Soon, another Levan stood inside the room. It was a perfect copy of the man. He circled the puppet slowly, staring at the creation intently.
From one angle, the resemblance was unsettling. The puppet even replicated Levan's habitual posture. The slight bend in his shoulders and the reserved stiffness of a merchant who had spent several years by pretending to be humble.
Even he himself almost felt as if the real man had returned. Even though so, there was one difference which were the eyes.
They were empty with no calculation, no ambition, and no hidden greed. It was just a lifeless imitation.
He nodded faintly, "That's enough… After all, I don't need it to mimic Levan completely…"
The world only needed to see the surface since the truth beneath it would remain buried.
He carefully drove a knife halfway into the puppet's abdomen. It was not deep enough to damage the puppet's core but it was convincing enough for a dramatic performance.
The blood was necessary too.
He dipped his fingers into the assistant's wound and smeared the sticky red liquid across the puppet's clothes and his own sleeves.
The smell spread through the room immediately. It felt warm and unpleasant which was quite good as the victim. It would make everything far more believable.
When he finally stepped back, he examined the scene once more. The room had a wounded old man, a dead assistant, and a desperate attack that had almost succeeded.
The stage was ready. Still, he did not rush out immediately. He paused beside the door and a few seconds passed.
He allowed his breathing to become uneven and his heartbeat quickened intentionally as he prepared his expression. The panic was easy to imitate if the body believed it first.
Only when his chest began rising more rapidly did he finally grab the door handle.
When he burst into the corridor, the performance had already begun.
"HELP!!!"
His voice echoed through the building, "HELP!!! EVERYONE! SIR LEVAN IS BEING ATTACKED BY AN ASSASSIN!!!"
The reaction was immediate and the workers soon rushed from every direction.
Several boots pounded across the wooden floors. The chairs were scraped and the door was burst open. Within few seconds, several men and women flooded into the office room.
What greeted them was chaos.
The assistant lay motionless on the ground and Levan sat slumped in his chair. He was breathing heavily as the blood began dripping slowly. It soaked through his robe while the knife remained lodged in his abdomen. Many gasps quickly filled the air.
"Sir Levan!"
"What happened?!"
"Call a healer!"
One of the older workers knelt beside the assistant and he quickly pulled his hand back.
"He's… He's already dead…"
A wave of shock spread through the room. For many of them, this assistant had worked here for many years. He was familiar and reliable, but now, he was simply a corpse on the floor.
However, the workers had no time to mourn since their attention quickly returned to the man who was still alive.
The wounded Levan slowly lifted his hand, "It's alright… Everyone…"
His voice sounded weak and strained, "You… don't need to panic…"
The workers looked even more distressed. Such kind boss was a blessing for everyone here.
"How can we not panic, Sir?!"
"Your wound…"
"We must take you to the clinic immediately!"
"Yes! We'll escort you! The academy's healer is not far!"
The man shook his head weakly, "No… no…"
He inhaled slowly as if he was suppressing the pain, "If we leave now, the assassin may strike again..."
The room fell silent because that possibility had not crossed their minds.
"If something happens to me outside…" the man continued slowly, "This company will collapse."
Several workers lowered their heads, "Sir…"
"My assistant already died protecting me…" the man's voice softened, "I cannot allow anyone else to be harmed."
A few workers' eyes turned red. Their boss had nearly died yet he was still worrying about them.
"Please… Continue your work... I have already sent word for a healer. In a short while, this wound will be treated..."
The tension in the room gradually eased and the relief quickly replaced the panic.
"Sir Levan is truly kind…"
"Yes… He always thinks of us first…"
"If the assassin returns, we must protect him!"
The workers nodded fiercely. One by one, they slowly left the room. Some of them carried the assistant's body away while the others whispered prayers under their breath.
Baston watched the entire scene quietly.
Inside his mind, he clicked his tongue. These people were sincere, too sincere that they never realized that they had been fooled for a long time.
Many years of careful deception had built an image of Levan as a benevolent employer. Even now, after witnessing a murder attempt, they still believed the man was a victim rather than the architect of countless crimes.
He shook his head slightly. Fooling a few people was difficult and fooling the hundreds required skill. Levan had clearly possessed that skill.
He could not help but wonder how long the deception had lasted.
Was it five years or ten years?
Perhaps, it was even longer.
The old man had built a reputation that was so convincing that even after his death, the illusion continued functioning perfectly. The workers mourned the assistant while worrying for their kind boss.
None of them suspected that the real monster had already vanished. That was the frightening part of human nature.
The people believed the stories they wanted to believe. The truth rarely mattered if the lie felt comfortable.
Soon, the room was empty again. Baston closed the door before he activated a soundproof barrier. The faint hum of magic spread across the walls. Only when the last ripple of mana settled, the puppet suddenly straightened its posture.
The wounded expression vanished instantly while Baston leaned back in the chair behind the desk.
He crossed his arms. For a moment, the room remained completely silent. The fake Levan stood beside him like a loyal servant.
"Not bad…" he muttered.
For someone who had never performed a play before, the scene had gone surprisingly well.
Originally, he had considered managing the company himself after Levan's death. But the more he thought about it, the more impossible that idea became.
Running a business required the experience. He must understand the negotiations, the supply chains, and the finances. There was no way he possessed those skills.
If he attempted to manage everything personally, the company would collapse within a week. That would attract far more attention than Levan's death.
Fortunately, he had already pointed this mess to Panto's hand. The boy would likely had a lot of experience and people who could help him.
Before that, he thought about Alicia since she still owed him a favor. However, using that favor for something like this felt wasteful. There was no need to use such important help.
Baston stood up and opened the door to find Karte. When he encountered him, he quickly rushed ahead before calling him.
The servant noticed quickly, "Yes, young master?"
"Find Panto…"
Karte blinked once in surprise, "The merchant student one?"
"Yes…"
Fortunately, finding Panto was not difficult. The boy frequently bought the food for Baston and wandered around the academy's area. Within half an hour, the servant returned with him.
Panto looked confused but he followed without resistance. When he arrived at Levan's company and knocked on the office door, a voice came from inside.
"Come in..."
Panto opened the door and the scene inside made him freeze.
Baston sat behind the large desk and Levan stood beside him. The authority in the room felt completely reversed. Even stranger, the air smelled faintly of the blood.
Panto's eyes narrowed slightly since something about this situation felt deeply wrong. He sat down slowly across from Baston. Neither of them spoke for several seconds before the fat boy calmly broke the silence.
"I killed Levan and his assistant an hour ago..."
Panto's mind stopped, "What?"
The word slipped out automatically, thinking that he heard it wrong. After all, Levan was here with them.
His eyes moved between Baston and the man who was standing beside him, "But… Levan is right there…"
"This man is not Levan," Baston said calmly, "He's only wearing Levan's face."
Panto's heart skipped a beat. For the next several minutes, Baston explained everything.
From the criminal network, the hired thugs, the hidden operations, and the manipulation behind the academy's supply contracts. Every piece of the truth slowly dismantled the image that Panto had built in his mind.
When Baston finished speaking, the merchant boy sat silently and his expression had become pale.
"That means…" Panto whispered, "All of it was real…"
Baston raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"
Panto looked up slowly, "The cult..."
Baston was dumbfounded. Inside his mind, he wondered why the boy brought such word again. Why Panto suddenly remembered about the cult once again even though it was nearly forgotten.
In the meantime, Panto's expression had already turned serious, "So… this was connected to them all along…"
Baston remained silent and that silence confirmed everything in Panto's mind.
The boy slowly clenched his hands, "I understand now…"
Baston almost laughed because the misunderstanding was astonishing but extremely convenient. Eventually, he decided not to correct it.
"Are you afraid?" Baston asked calmly.
Panto shook his head, "Not anymore..."
"Why?"
The merchant boy looked directly at him, "Because you're protecting me…"
For a moment, Baston felt strangely uncomfortable. Panto's trust was genuine and it had lasted for months. Ever since that first misunderstanding, he had never corrected it.
Apparently, the lie had grown roots, but still, there was no time for guilt. After all, it was his own decision to fool everyone.
"By the way, I need someone to run this company. I believe you can handle it for me…"
Panto blinked, "Why me?"
"Because you're the only merchant I can trust."
The silence filled the room then Panto leaned forward, "I need two days to arrange everything…"
Baston nodded, "That's fine..."
*****
Two days later, Panto returned and his eyes carried a completely different intensity. Baston gestured for him to talk whatever the plan he had.
"Levan cannot disappear immediately," Panto explained, "That would create suspicion. Apparently, the fake one must remain alive for now."
Baston nodded slowly, "That part was obvious."
Panto continued, "We have to change the company's structure."
Instead of acting as a direct supplier, Levan's company would become a distribution intermediary. The procurement would be transferred to Panto's family company which would be handled by Rembrant. The fake Levan would simply need to inspect and approve the deliveries.
This would quietly move the financial control into Panto's hands.
The workers would continue their jobs, the supplies would still reach the academy, and nothing suspicious would appear. It was elegant, but more importantly, it was invisible.
Baston listened carefully. By the time Panto finished explaining, he finally exhaled.
The relief finally washed his troublesome mind. The problem had been solved far more smoothly than he expected.
"It's a good plan…" Baston said.
However, before Panto left, he handed him a folded paper.
"What's this?" Panto asked.
"Levan's other connections."
Panto opened the list and there were dozens of names that stared back at him. It consisted of the thugs, the smugglers, and the black market brokers. It was the hidden foundation of Levan's empire.
Baston's voice became calm, "Remove them..."
Panto's eyes sharpened, "Secretly?"
"Yes…"
The merchant boy folded the paper slowly and a faint smile appeared on his face, "I'll take care of it..."
He stood up and bowed slightly. When Panto left the office, Baston remained seated quietly.
At the outside, the workers continued their daily tasks. Inside the office, the two men existed. One was alive and one who should already be dead.
Somewhere far deeper, inside the silent pages of the old book, the real Levan lay forgotten like a secret that was waiting for the right moment to surface.