The tall and heavy black iron gate was closed, with a huge emblem carved on the lintel.

Even in the darkness and at a distance, Mark could make out that it was a complex shield-shaped emblem, the core pattern of which appeared to be a falcon with outstretched wings.

The eagle's eyes are sharp, as if they can see through all disguises.

The walls of the mansion were extremely high, and crystals emitting faint magical fluctuations were embedded at regular intervals in the corners, which were obviously the nodes of some kind of warning magic circle.

In the firelight, patrolling figures on the tower and deep in the courtyard could be vaguely seen, with a powerful aura.

Monica stood in the shadows of the side alley across the street, motionless as a stone statue.

Mark's perception could clearly "touch" the abnormality of her current state.

It was not the calm lurking attitude of carrying out a mission, but a deep, cold repression that was almost boiling.

The fluctuations in her soul became extremely violent, like a volcano that was forcibly suppressed, forming a heart-pounding contrast with her absolutely still posture.

Mark could even "feel" her fingers pressing on the handle of the dagger at her waist, her knuckles turning slightly white due to the force.

She just stared silently at the luxurious yet oppressive mansion, her eyes empty, as if she could penetrate the thick walls and distant time and space, and see some scenes that only she could see.

In the oppressive darkness, only the light from the mansion coldly illuminated her profile hidden in the shadows, and her bottomless eyes surging with complex storms.

Mark was hiding in the shadows in the distance, also motionless, his brows furrowed, alarm bells ringing in his heart.

What exactly is this mansion with a falcon emblem hanging on it, which can cause such drastic fluctuations in the iron-willed Monica?

What is hidden inside?

Mark hid behind a shadowy stone pillar in the distance, his soul perception like an invisible thread, tightly wrapped around the solidified figure at the entrance of the side alley.

Monica's silence in the face of the Falcon Mansion was filled with a sense of impending oppression, which frightened Mark more than any fierce battle.

Time flows in dead silence.

Finally, Monica moved.

She did not move forward, but took a very small step back as if all her strength had been drained, completely blending into the deeper darkness of the side alley.

She did not look back at the brightly lit mansion, but lowered her head, turned around, and returned silently along the way she came, like a ghost.

Mark didn't follow immediately. He waited for a quarter of an hour to confirm that Monica's breath was indeed moving away from the aristocratic area. Then he moved like a real shadow, sticking to the wall and quietly following her farther behind.

His senses remained locked on the cold, heavy presence ahead of him until it slipped safely back into the room at the Shadow Bat Inn.

Mark didn't alarm her.

He was in his room, listening to Enzo's snoring next door, and couldn't calm down for a long time.

Monica's abnormality was like a thorn in his heart.

The Kingdom of Karl, Black Swamp City, the Noble District, the Falcon Badge... These nouns, when put together, point to a past that he had never understood, but was enough to shock Monica's soul.

As a teammate and a friend, perhaps he should do something...

The next morning, Mark sent Enzo away and asked him to go to the blacksmith shop to see if he could get some anti-rust oil suitable for the swamp.

He also asked Xiao Mu to accompany Anna to buy some herbs and water purification tablets to treat swamp insects.

In the slightly damp corner of the hotel's common lounge area, only he and Monica were left.

Mark didn't beat around the bush; he looked at Monica.

The latter still looked calm, but the bloodshot deep in her eyes and a hint of fatigue that was hard to conceal betrayed her unrest last night.

"Last night." Mark's voice was soft, but it carried an undeniable seriousness. "You went to the aristocratic district and stood outside the mansion with the falcon emblem for a long time."

Monica's hand holding the water glass paused slightly, and her knuckles turned white from the force.

She did not blame Mark for following her. It was normal for Mark, who had the profession of 'Soul Harmonizer', to discover her own abnormality.

She didn't look at Mark, but her eyes fell on the ripples in the water in the cup, as if there was a past in it that she didn't want to face.

A long silence spread and the air became thick.

"That's the mansion of 'Bellucci's Eye.'" Monica finally spoke, her voice dry and hoarse, breaking the silence and lifting the heavy lid.

"One of the continent's top appraiser families, generations have dedicated themselves to knowledge, wealth, and...secrets."

She took a deep breath and raised her head. Her eyes, which were always calm and sharp, were now filled with pain and a deep coldness.

The fragmented memories of last night in front of the mansion replayed clearly in her mind like a poisoned knife.

"I am the eldest daughter of the Bellucci family and the sole legal heir." Her voice was calm, but beneath the calm was frozen magma. "My mother died of illness when I was young. My father... he dedicated his entire life to the responsibility and honor of our family.

"He taught me the art of identification, taught me how to protect the family's secrets and treasures, and taught me... 'Family is your responsibility, Monica, Bellucci is above all else, and you can sacrifice anything for the family.'"

She repeated this sentence, and the corners of her mouth pulled up into a cold arc, full of sarcasm.

The images of memories became bloody and sharp.

"Until he became seriously ill, he adhered to this creed... But power is the best poison. My stepmother and my ambitious uncle Leonard... They wove an elaborate web."

Monica's eyes turned completely cold, like the black ice deep in the eternal ice abyss.

"As soon as my father died, the charges fell on me. The family treasures were stolen, I colluded with the enemy, I blasphemed my ancestors... every single one of them was proven with irrefutable evidence.

"My father's most loyal guards were slaughtered in the chaos, their blood splattered all over the cold marble floor of the corridor. I couldn't even get close to my father's coffin..."

Her hand subconsciously touched the left side of her neck, the area hidden by her long burgundy hair.

Mark's pupils shrank slightly, and he saw a vague scar at that location that had been burned and destroyed by some kind of mark.

"Leonard personally enforced the 'family law.' The closer the 'traitor's' mark is to the family's inherited identification code... the greater the damage it inflicts upon the branded individual... His hypocritical face and the blades of the pursuers under his command... I thought I'd forgotten all this."

There was no trembling in her voice, only hatred deep in her bones and a cold numbness.

"But the word 'responsibility' that my father always taught me... has become the heaviest shackle tightening around my throat."

Monica refocused her gaze and looked at Mark with an indescribable complex emotion, a mixture of relief after being honest and a deeper darkness.