Monster Evolution System: I became a Rat-Chapter 96: Planning Ghost

"Why didn’t you knock?" a voice came as Rosacer stepped inside.

Rosacer paused only for a fraction before closing the door behind him. The lock slid into place with a muted click. His eyes adjusted to the dim lighting quickly.

Three candles sat unevenly on a round table near the center of the room, their low flames casting more shadow than light. The curtains were pulled tight, yet the fabric quivered faintly, as though stirred by a breeze that had never crossed the threshold.

A woman sat beside the table.

She leaned back lazily, one arm resting over the chair while the other held a thin cigarette between her fingers. Smoke curled upward in slow spirals, dissolving into the ceiling darkness. Her attire was formal but worn. A deep green coat hung loosely over a white shirt, its collar slightly unbuttoned. A silver chain rested across her vest, connected to a pocket watch that glinted whenever the candlelight caught it.

Her hair was dark auburn, tied loosely at the back, several strands falling across her face. Her eyes, sharp and unreadable, followed Rosacer without blinking.

"This could have been a trap... and you didn’t even consider it," she said, exhaling smoke slowly. "That’s either confidence in your own skill or inherited stupidity."

Rosacer frowned and stepped further inside, his gaze scanning every corner before settling on her.

"I was invited," he replied.

The woman gave a faint smile, tilting her head slightly.

"So was I," she said.

Silence stretched between them. The faint smell of burnt herbs lingered in the air, mixed with the damp scent Rosacer had begun associating with Mist City.

"You are not Gringha," Rosacer said.

"No," she replied calmly. "And you are Rosacer."

Rosacer’s eyes narrowed slightly.

She flicked ash into a small brass tray on the table.

"Relax," she said calmly. "If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead."

Rosacer remained standing, maintaining distance.

"Name," he said.

The woman straightened slightly, brushing stray hair behind her ear.

"Amara Medes," she replied. "Contract broker. Occasional relic interpreter."

Rosacer studied her carefully. Her posture was relaxed, almost careless, but her eyes carried alertness. The type that never fully slept.

"You work with Gringha," Rosacer said.

Amara gave a small shrug.

"I work with opportunity," she answered. "Gringha simply has an unhealthy talent for finding it."

Rosacer’s gaze drifted briefly across the room. The bed remained untouched. The wardrobe door was slightly open, revealing nothing unusual. Yet the air pressure inside the room felt off, heavier near the floor.

"You know why I am here," Rosacer said.

Amara smiled faintly.

"Busting ghosts?" she asked.

Rosacer did not respond.

Amara leaned forward slightly, resting her elbows on the table. The candlelight revealed faint burn marks across her gloves, thin black lines crawling along the fabric like scars.

She sighed and went on, "At midnight, the ghosts will haunt this room. Better that Gringha arrives before then."

"Quite bold of you to be thieving around the city," she remarked casually.

Rosacer’s expression shifted almost imperceptibly.

"The target is going to be a merchant."

She tapped the cigarette lightly, watching the ember glow.

Rosacer’s attention sharpened.

"Who is this merchant?" he asked.

Amara reached beneath the table and pulled out a leather satchel. She placed it carefully onto the surface and opened it halfway. Inside, there were several hand-drawn maps and something shiny was present.

"His route, his house, his routine—everything’s all there," she said.

Rosacer stepped closer unconsciously.

"After Gringha arrives, we’ll decide on the method of attack," she continued. "It’s dangerous work—possibly suicidal. You’re aware of that, right?"

The candle flames flickered suddenly, bending toward the satchel as if drawn by its contents.

Rosacer felt the faint vibration beneath his boots again. Slight and rhythmic, like a faint tapping from beneath the floorboards.

"You feel that?" Amara asked quietly.

"Yes."

"They are waking up."

She closed the satchel slowly.

"Gringha asked me to join you guys, but I wouldn’t be part of the actual attack. I’m more of a guide and threat management chief here."

Amara leaned back again, taking another slow drag from the cigarette.

Silence settled again. The candles dimmed momentarily before regaining strength.

Rosacer glanced toward the floor instinctively.

Here is your passage with grammar, clarity, and flow correction, preserving your style, tone, and pacing, and keeping it natural and not overly polished.

"There is still time. At least someone is punctual," she said.

They talked for some more time until there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Amara shouted.

The door handle creaked open as a figure emerged into the room.

He was tall, his face gloomy, with brown hair and light blue eyes. He seemed like a noble. His sharp gaze was piercing, and his attire was a dark, tightly bound robe, with his mouth covered. The man looked handsome and charming at the same time.

"Gringha, you are late," Amara called out as she gestured for him to take a seat nearby. Rosacer was still standing as well, so she told him to do the same.

Gringha greeted Rosacer and Amara as he took a seat, but he never apologized for being late.

Amara narrowed her eyes at him as she began.

She opened her satchel once again. "So, here is the layout of his house, and the routes he usually takes, and will take, for the delivery of some requested goods directly to the Rein nobles."

Her hand traced the route as she began explaining it.

After giving a brief explanation, she added.

"I do not know the details of the items he will be carrying, but among them, there is this." She pulled out a shiny object. It was a replica of an item, a lamp, a silver lamp.

Lifting the lamp, she spoke again, "This is a replica of the Malachi Lamp. The real one’s ability is to call an angel or messenger for help. I do not know if it has any combat abilities or if the requested messenger or angel can be used as a weapon, but it is said to belong to Royal Ernest Navy Commander, Beelzebub."

She looked toward both of them as she gave a little smirk. "If an immortal carries one such item, you can guess how much value it might hold. Who knows if there is an unknown special ability it has that nobody but the commander knows."

They didn’t reply as silence settled over the group.

The candles around them fluttered as Amara continued, "But that is good. Even the merchant would not know about it."

Gringha raised a question in between. "How about we steal it from his house? The route will be guarded by both the security forces of the Merchant Association and his own men too, but his house would be guarded only by his men."

He looked toward Rosacer at the end.

Rosacer did not respond.

Instead, Amara spoke, her auburn hair fluttering slightly as she moved. "In his house, he will be suspecting us. But during his route, he will be least prepared for a surprise attack. Moreover, it seems that no one daring to attack him for years has made him careless."

Gringha leaned back in his chair, fingers drumming lightly on the armrest in a slow, deliberate rhythm, as if he were counting unseen seconds.

"A route attack exposes us," he said calmly. "Too many unknown variables. Civilians. Patrol rotations. Rein noble escorts can appear without notice."

Amara rested her elbow on the table, supporting her chin with her palm. The smirk had not left her face, but her eyes had sharpened.

"And breaking into his house assumes we know every layer of defense he’s set up," she said. "Merchants like him don’t last by relying only on visible guards."

In a steady, serious tone, she added, "There’ll be hidden factors."

Gringha shrugged slightly. "Visible guards are easy to anticipate, but hidden defenses work on patterns—and patterns can be figured out."

Amara tapped the replica lamp lightly against the table. The silver surface caught candlelight and reflected fractured glimmers across the room walls.

"You think we have time to study?" she said. "The delivery’s in just four nights."

Rolling her eyes, she added with low voice, "Also, if you could do that study."

Gringha’s tapping stopped.

"Four nights is sufficient," he said.

Rosacer remained standing beside the table, arms folded, his gaze drifting between the map layout and the replica lamp. He had not spoken, but his attention had not faltered for a single moment.

Amara noticed.

"Do you have a better suggestion, or are you too clueless to even understand us?" she said, glancing toward Rosacer.

Rosacer shifted slightly, his boots brushing against the carpet.

"The route," he said finally, "how many escort layers?"

Amara reached into her satchel and pulled out a folded parchment. She spread it across the table, flattening its curled edges with two fingers.

"Primary escort consists of six Merchant Association guards," she said. "Two front, two rear, two carriage flank."

Her finger moved across the map.

"Secondary escort varies. Usually three to five personal guards. Rotating personnel. Loyal and well paid."

Gringha leaned forward slightly, studying the markings.

"And surveillance?"

"Roof watchers in commercial districts," Amara replied. "Informants posted at choke streets. Signal whistles if anything suspicious is noticed." 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Rosacer’s eyes moved slowly across the route lines. His expression remained neutral, but his gaze lingered near two narrow intersections marked faintly in ink.