Chapter 34: Not My Kind of Sword
The next morning, Tina started the day with her now-familiar “Irene care routine,” feeling like a pro.
First, she dressed the disheveled, just-woken Irene, taming her wild side while sneaking a couple of playful pinches. Then, off to the bathroom to wash the still-groggy girl, splashing water on her face and attempting to remove her eyepatch.
Slap— Her hand was swatted away before it got close.
Irene’s brain hadn’t booted up, but her body was already on autopilot.
“Huh? Your eyepatch is waterproof?”
“Hehe.” Irene giggled dumbly.
Another day of failing to uncover Irene’s eyepatch. Tina decided to make it a daily mission—persistence would reveal her true face eventually.
Finally, the public breakfast-feeding session. Irene was thrilled with the service, giving it a solid nine or ten out of ten.
The only downside? No daily 60-point reward for Tina—just odd stares from the noble and maids.
“We’re heading to the investigation bureau today. Could we get a map of Valencia?”
“Of course, miss.”
The maid provided a detailed map, clearly marking the entire kingdom. Tina’s mansion was on the outskirts, but the nearest bureau was only a half-hour walk away.
“Let’s go, Irene.”
“Mm.” Clutching her sword, Irene trailed closely, less like a sidekick and more like a clingy stalker.
“You can walk beside me. It won’t look so weird.”
“Oh.”
As Irene complied, Tina noticed her sword’s exquisite craftsmanship.
The blade was pure mithril, flawless, with visible magic ripples under sunlight. The hilt’s fabric was special—non-slip, magic-conductive. An eagle was etched on the guard, a master’s mark.
Last night, a single sword slash had severed a thug’s arm. Thinking back, Irene’s face had carried a heavy killing intent.
“Where’d you get that sword?” Tina turned to ask.
“Forgot… it’s always been there.”
“Figures.” Expecting answers from amnesiac Irene was a stretch, but it didn’t matter. Tina was just curious how someone so helpless kept the sword in pristine condition.
“Wanna… touch it?”
Sensing Tina’s gaze, Irene sheathed the sword and offered it.
“Really? That’s generous.”
“Mine… is yours.”
Tina was touched—Irene wasn’t an ungrateful freeloader after all.
But taking the sword, she nearly stumbled.
“This thing’s that heavy?”
Tina estimated it weighed ten pounds. How did Irene hold it so steady?
“And… why won’t it budge?”
After straining to unsheathe it to no avail, she felt played.
Not my kind of sword. Not even trying.
“Hehe.”
Irene took it back, effortlessly drawing the blade, tossing it into the air for a few spins, and catching it like it weighed nothing.
“Impressive.”
Tina guessed the sword housed a spirit-like entity, adjusting its weight and properties for the user.
Such evolved weapons were rare, often tied to wielders with tragic backstories.
She’d heard this at a blacksmith’s, though the truth was unverified.
Her gut told her Irene’s amnesia might be linked to the sword’s story.
“We’re here.”
Following the map, they reached the investigation bureau. It was chaotic, crowded with citizens queuing to report cases, clearly understaffed.
Tina scoped out the place.
Only a few handled cases, swamped and breathless, while guards at the staircase moved covered goods with extreme care—likely valuable.
Tina recalled last night’s puppet intel. Such security in a place like this probably tied to the auction.
But that wasn’t her goal. She wanted nothing to do with it—better to stay far away.
The line ahead had at least thirty people. No telling how long it’d take.
Tina had Irene rest on a sofa while she handled the queue for case details.
That was the plan.
But moments after Irene sat, someone approached her.
The blonde was already shy, especially in noisy settings. Just sitting there drained her energy.
Now, some clueless guy was pestering her. She looked ready to bolt home and hide under the covers.
“Got a problem?”
Tina abandoned the half-finished line, stepping in front of Irene.
“Oh? You know this lady?” asked a yellow-haired man in knight’s attire.
“None of your business. State your purpose. If you’re here to harass, leave.” Tina’s tone chilled.
“No, no misunderstanding! She… looked familiar, so I wanted to say hi. Didn’t expect her to end up like this.” He sounded regretful, then shifted gears.
“Miss, I saw you queuing. Checking a case? I can get you a fast track.”
“You’re not scamming us? No strings attached?” Tina was skeptical of such sudden kindness.
“Of course not. Just making up for my rudeness.”
“Lead the way, then.”
Tina held Irene’s hand, wary of her wandering off.
Following the man through the crowd, they reached an office on the second floor.
He personally served steaming tea and asked, “What case are you here for?”
“A noblewoman named Vanessa. She’s missing.”
“Oh, that one. Regrettably, we still haven’t found her.”
He paused. “But we have leads pointing to an abandoned mansion in the suburbs. Her belongings were found nearby.”
Tina clicked her tongue. “If you’ve got leads, why not investigate?”
“Well, miss, you know—short on manpower, can’t spare guards.”
“Fine. Irene and I will handle it. No need to bother you.”
As Tina stood to leave, the man added with a sly tone:
“No rush. Don’t you want to know about this lady’s origins?”