World's Best Protagonist [BL]

Well—not gone, exactly. What was left of it still stood, a charred skeleton of its former self. Blackened walls curled in on themselves like dead petals. The windows were just hollow, gaping sockets.

Smoke still rose lazily from the ruins, and every breeze carried the heavy stench of scorched wood, ash, and something like the smell of burning corpses. Bile rose in my throat, and I turned away and coughed drily.

Beside me, Claude stopped walking and gaped at the scene.

I didn’t have to look at him to know what kind of expression was on his face. Anger, frustration, and confusion. I could feel it radiating off of him like pressure before a storm.

"What... what is this?" the trafficker stammered behind us. His voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "No, no—no, this can’t be it..."

He stumbled forward like a drunk man, staring at the ruins in disbelief. "It wasn’t like this—I swear, I swear—"

Claude grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against a tree.

"You lying piece of—"

So, he decided to believe that we were fooled, instead of the thought of Noir and Etienne roasted inside that house.

However, the man was adamant.

"I’m not lying! I didn’t know it’d be gone! I brought you here, didn’t I?!" the man cried, coughing from the smoke and panic. "Why would I destroy the place I was supposed to profit from?!"

Claude’s jaw clenched. He didn’t press the blade this time, but the look in his eyes made it clear he was about one breath away from turning this guy into fertilizer.

I took a cautious step forward, scanning the ruins. Nothing moved. There was no sound, and the wind was still, hot, and smelly.

There were also no screams from victims begging to be released, or the snores of the guards sleeping while on duty.

Just the eerie quiet of something that had burned too fast and ended too clean.

Seems too intentional. This incident wasn’t an accident. I’m certain.

"Claude," I said softly. Yeah, soft as a feather, because I’m trying to calm him down first, before I take the stranger’s side. "I don’t think he’s lying."

Claude didn’t look at me. Again. My petty attitude would have ignored him as well, all throughout the journey, as soon as he pulled up that ’talking to the air instead of me’ act. But I need to act as the mature one this time, so this whole search can be productive.

Claude just held the man there a second longer before letting him go. The guy collapsed to the ground, trembling while clutching his own throat.

"It was here," he muttered, rocking slightly. "It was here... they were here... the guards, the buyers, the auction house. I swear it—"

Claude turned away from him, eyes narrowed as he took in the wreckage again. I could see the way his fingers twitched—frustrated, his mind consumed with something.

"They torched it," I said aloud. "Someone beat us to it."

Claude’s eyes flicked to mine. "Or he led us to the wrong house."

"Come on. You really think this is a coincidence? The ash is still fresh. The smoke’s still rising. Someone torched this place today. Maybe just a few minutes ago."

Claude’s silence was telling.

He didn’t like it. The loss of control. The missing puzzle pieces. The fact that someone—anyone—could’ve gotten there before us and left with no trace.

"We search for it," he said finally, his voice remaining cold. "Every inch. If there are bodies, I want to see them. If there’s anything left... we find it."

I groaned inwardly. I know all these are needed to save Noir and Etienne, but seriously? Searching every inch in this hot, charcoaled place?

Let’s think wisely. Who else would burn an illegal auction house that profits the sellers and entertains the buyers?

Surely, not someone on the seller’s side. So, cross out.

A buyer who didn’t get to buy what or who he wanted and burned this place out of madness? Possibly.

A victim who escaped and tried to get revenge? Could be. But that would be a very brave victim, yet morally gray. Burning the house down could have put the other victims in danger. Let’s hope they were saved at least.

Lastly and most certainly, a righteous person who came, found how this place operates, or intentionally infiltrated it, and rescued the victims.

"Jade."

I blinked. My gaze was fixed on the captain’s face. He was staring directly at me, as if assessing what I was just thinking about.

"No more ignoring me?" I blurted out.

Claude’s brow twitched. I was a bit shocked myself. Before I could finally address the dancing elephant in the room, setting aside the present for a moment, Claude had looked away already.

He just said stoically, "Let’s get a move on. We must find Noir and Etienne as soon as possible."

I sighed exasperatedly and just nodded after. Then, without saying anything, I followed him as he stepped into the soot-stained clearing.

The trafficker didn’t move. He stayed slumped under the tree, mumbling to himself. It seemed like he forgot to escape, and just stared at the wreckage, devastated and distraught.

I didn’t feel sorry for him.

He brought people to this house.

And now that it was gone, he mourned his profit, not the people.

Claude knelt near a scorched patch of ground and picked something up. I moved closer.

A round piece, sized as large as a small coin, with an eagle curved on the surface.

Claude’s grip tightened.

"A button?" I asked, quietly.

"A cufflink."

"A gold cufflink. What do you think?"

"Belongs to a noble person. Animals are sometimes used as symbols of noble families. Do you know whose family it symbolizes?"

Was something like this mentioned in the book? I don’t think...

"Ah, wait..."

"Recall something?"

I nodded. I took the small item from his hand, our fingers brushing lightly with each other. I just remembered this guy hadn’t yet received counseling. I should do it later, whether he likes it or not.

"Yeah. Not sure which one, but I think this insignia belongs to one of the two dukes in this kingdom. Should we ask—where did he go?"

Claude looked ahead. His brows furrowed after not seeing our supposed guide in his spot. Claude walked to where the man had sat before, and from that position, he saw him running into the woods.

I lowered my head when I saw his body emit that poisonous gas, and soon enough, the runaway fell down, a cloud of toxic mist floated above his head, suffocating and killing him.

Once I noticed a pair of boots a foot away from mine, I looked up and casually told him, "I’m going to cleanse you whether you like it or not, so watch out."