Simon Mercer’s most logical conclusion was some sort of hex.

"Shit..."

He groaned as his back pressed against the door, one hand reaching over his opposite shoulder as he tried to feel for anything out of place. He needed to check whether something was really there, whether this was all just in his head, or whether his body had actually gone off the rails this time.

But before his fingers could even reach properly, his entire body tensed.

His hand shifted abruptly, flying up to his ear instead.

"Gaaah!"

His right ear suddenly felt like it had been shoved right next to a speaker blasting at maximum volume. The sharpness of it made his head throb as he pressed his palm tightly against it, trying to block out whatever invisible noise was drilling straight into him.

Unfortunately for him, the pain felt all too real.

But even then, he couldn’t completely rule it out.

What if this was all just psychosomatic?

With all the medication he had been taking and the fact that he could barely remember anything about himself, it wasn’t exactly impossible that he had finally snapped.

Right.

That had to be it.

He was going nuts.

Not exactly a comforting thought, but at least it was something he could understand.

Of course, that would also mean that his secretary and his private physician had both decided to go crazy alongside him.

Because if they hadn’t, then the only other explanation was far worse.

That the color of his right eye had actually changed without him doing anything out of the ordinary.

Same pills.

Same food.

Same schedule.

Ever since his last breakdown a few years back, he had followed everything exactly as prescribed, so how could something like this suddenly happen?

It had started a few days ago.

At first, he thought it was just a fever.

Then came the rest.

His ears would grate in a way that made no sense. It couldn’t be tinnitus. There was no way tinnitus would let him hear housekeepers talking from several floors away as if they were right beside him.

Then there was his skin.

The texture of it would change randomly, shifting into something that didn’t feel entirely human. But every single time he tried to catch it, every single time he called the physician over, the change would be gone by the time anyone checked.

Like nothing had ever happened.

Like he had imagined all of it.

It was maddening.

And honestly, Simon could understand why they had started looking at him like he had finally gone off the deep end.

But then his secretary saw it.

The change in his eye.

Clear enough that she didn’t even hesitate before dragging him to the physician, and for once, even that stubborn skeptic took one look at him and admitted that there was probably something wrong.

Which should have been reassuring.

Except it wasn’t.

Who knew that even in those with money, it would still take forever to get anyone to really listen?

But the state of the healthcare industry couldn’t be his main focus right now.

Because at this point, it didn’t really matter if they listened to him. Actually, it would be better if they didn’t.

For right about now, Simon didn’t think there was any disease that would allow someone to grow a random wing out of their back.

No.

That had to be mana-related.

And if it was mana, then what he needed wasn’t a medical practitioner.

He needed a witch doctor.

Someone who could tell him who the hell had such a heavy grudge against him that they would go this far just to hex him like that.

Because, as far as he knew, he hadn’t stepped on anyone’s toes with a particularly heavy boot.

Competition was normal in business, but he definitely hadn’t engaged in practices that would warrant something like this. It wasn’t because he was altruistic, but he always had that nagging feeling that he would get clobbered if he employed such underhanded methods.

It had always been a quirk of his.

But who knew he had more strange things going on for him?

See, the strangest thing that had happened in the past few days was getting conned by a group of pint-sized children.

And he had definitely compensated more than enough for something he didn’t even need to concern himself wit—

Simon was deep in introspection when his train of thought was cut off abruptly.

His hand went straight back to his ear as the pain spiked again, sharper this time, more focused.

But this time, it wasn’t just pain.

Just like those voices, he heard something more concrete.

Footsteps.

Not the familiar rhythm of staff moving through the house.

No, these were different.

Heavier.

But at the same time extremely measured, as if taking the very same step over and over again.

Now it would’ve been fine in most cases, but this time around, it was unmistakably getting closer.

"!!!"

__

Meanwhile, back at the dragon estate where the returning vacationers were gathered, an unusual argument was going on.

It started the moment Riley stepped out wearing a familiar suit, the very same one he used to wear when he actively accompanied the dragon lord for work.

For a second, Orien and Liam simply stared.

Then their expressions cracked.

"...!!!"

Both boys froze in place, their breakfast forgotten as they stood there holding toast in their small, slightly grubby hands, eyes wide with disbelief and something dangerously close to panic.

Because they knew that suit.

They knew exactly what it meant.

"W-wait—!"

"Why are you dressed like that?!"

Their voices overlapped as they rushed toward him, completely flabbergasted, their earlier calm gone in an instant.

Riley blinked at them, caught off guard by the sudden reaction.

"Huh?"

He glanced down at himself before looking back at the boys, clearly not seeing the problem.

"What’s wrong?"

"What do you mean, what’s wrong, Auntie?!" Orien burst out. "You’re going out!"

Riley tilted his head slightly, still not understanding the urgency.

"...Yeah?"

"Then we have to get dressed too!"

"Right now!"

Liam nodded emphatically beside him, already shifting his weight like he was about to run off and change.

But the returning worker only looked more confused.

"...Why would you have to get dressed?"

The two boys stilled.

Slowly, they turned back to him, their expressions shifting into something incredulous.

"...Because we’re coming too?"

Riley paused for a moment before answering in a completely matter-of-fact tone.

"But children can’t come to work."

The words landed.

And for a brief, surreal second, the world seemed to stop.

Both boys stood there, still clutching their toast, staring at him like he had just said something completely absurd.

"...What?"

"That’s not—"

"Huh?!"

They looked at each other, then back at Riley, their faces quickly shifting from disbelief to outright refusal.

"No!"

"We’re coming!"

"You can’t just leave us behind!"

Orien immediately stepped forward and latched onto Riley, his grip firm and unyielding.

"I’ve been to MBE before!" he insisted. "I can go!"

Liam followed suit, grabbing onto Riley’s sleeve with equal determination.

"Big Brother, We’ll behave!"

"Promise!"

Riley looked down at the two children now stuck to him like glue, their eyes wide and pleading, their little hands refusing to let go.

For a moment, he hesitated.

Then, like a problematic old man, he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well... I do have to go to work," he said slowly. "I need to earn money too."

That made them pause.

Just a little.

"After all," Riley continued, completely aware of the impact of his words, "with a bill as large as the one we just got after checking out, it would only be right for me to work..."

Gasp!

Both boys stiffened as realization hit them squarely.

Because unfortunately, that was their fault.

"...Oh."

"...Ah."

Their grips loosened just slightly, their earlier confidence faltering as they processed that particular piece of information.

But they still didn’t let go.

Riley noticed, and his expression softened, definitely an attempt to restrain himself from chuckling.

He reached out and gently rubbed their heads, his touch patient despite the situation.

"This time, I really need to check something for myself," he said. "But next time, if it’s possible, I’ll try to bring you out."

The children looked up at him, still clearly aggrieved, still reluctant, but listening.

"And maybe," the sly officeworker added, almost as an afterthought, "I could stop by a store and get some snacks."

Ah, the power of snacks!

The tension melted almost instantly as both boys perked up, their earlier resistance wavering.

"...Snacks?"

"Really?"

Riley nodded.

And just like that, the previously stubborn children straightened up, doing their best to behave, their agreement coming in the form of reluctant but obvious compliance.

The child handler, thinking he had successfully navigated the situation, immediately turned to leave and urged his husband along.

"Let’s go—"

"Are you seriously leaving like that?"

Kael’s voice cut in, calm but unmistakably pointed.

Riley blinked and turned back, clearly not following.

"What do you mean?"

He already looked ready to head out, completely unaware of what the problem even was.

Kael looked at him.

Too pretty.

He didn’t even stop the thought from forming. That should already be too obvious.

Because Riley, who had always been a rather beautiful twig, now looked... a bit different.

Way too healthy.

After resting and being thoroughly imbued with mana in more ways than one should be allowed to imagine, he looked like he had been remade. Reborn, even.

And in a sense, that wasn’t entirely wrong.

But still.

Kael’s gaze lingered for a moment before he spoke again.

"How are you going to explain that?"

Riley frowned slightly, still not understanding what Kael was getting at.

But to be fair, the rushing returnee had no real idea what the golden dragon was even talking about.

Not until he got to work and realized that, to his co-workers, he must have looked like a dried pickle before.

Damn.