Knowing that deception and concealment were meaningless in front of Punk, Irene Cassock abandoned all pretense and switched to pleading, attempting to play the moral card.
"Honorable Master, this might be a terrible conspiracy against Dolez City. Surely, a righteous mage like yourself wouldn't stand by and let such evil spread unchecked? The lives of 150,000 people are at stake! It's unfortunate that the Doktor family lacks the strength to contribute to Dolez City in a meaningful way, but if you could help resolve this crisis, you would undoubtedly earn the friendship of the city's people—and, of course, the Doktor family as well."
Irene's tone was sincere, skillfully linking justice and morality to the issue while dragging Dolez City into the matter, even though it had little direct connection to the situation. The moral coercion she employed was subtle yet difficult to refuse—perfectly suited to persuading the passionate youths of the so-called "good factions."
Unfortunately for her, Punk was not the type to fall for such tricks.
To him, moral appeals were a joke. But the so-called Spider Cave was an entirely different matter.
What interested him most was the legacy of Irene's grandfather, the former official mage.
Repeated use of prophecy spells had confirmed that Irene's grandfather had indeed disappeared inside the Spider Cave. Yet even with the insight of a formal mage's divination, certain details remained hidden—clear evidence that powerful forces were involved.
An official mage would never venture into the unknown without preparation. Whether he had discovered hidden treasures, carried rare magic books, or possessed valuable research notes, one thing was certain—he would not have entered the cave unprepared.
Even a newcomer like Punk possessed a golem as a safeguard, let alone an eleventh-level mage.
With the lure of an official mage's inheritance, the exploration of the Spider Cave was already tempting.
Beyond personal gain, however, there was another concern.
A development of this scale—one involving official-level power—had suddenly appeared near Punk's territory without any prior warning. Who could possibly believe it was merely coincidence?
Unknown threats should never be allowed to grow at one's doorstep.
Punk had no intention of leaving such a danger unresolved, only to have it erupt at the worst possible moment. From a strategic standpoint, eliminating the threat was necessary.
That said, just because he planned to investigate didn't mean he would miss the opportunity to extract additional benefits from the desperate noblewoman sitting before him.
Punk's gaze settled on Irene, who was clearly growing anxious.
He had always believed that aristocratic wealth was like water trapped in a sponge—squeeze hard enough, and something would always come out.
And now, a worried noblewoman sat before him, practically inviting herself to be squeezed dry.
How could he possibly miss the chance to earn the title of "Little Sponge Squeezer"?
Feigning indifference, he leaned back slightly and spoke in a flat, uninterested tone.
"I'm sorry, Miss Irene. As much as I would like to save the people of Dolez City, I am currently occupied with an important experiment. I simply do not have the time to investigate the Spider Cave.
However, I am committed to eradicating evil, so I will not ignore the matter entirely.
Let me think… Yes. Thirty years from now, I may have some free time. At that point, I will personally ensure the complete destruction of this evil lair."
He had not outright refused—he had merely postponed the matter for thirty years.
For a formal mage, three decades were nothing more than a brief moment in time. On the surface, the delay was perfectly reasonable.
But the hidden meaning was unmistakable.
I am interested in the Spider Cave. But if you want my attention now, you must provide proper compensation.
Otherwise, I can wait thirty years.
Can you?
Irene, no fool, immediately understood.
There was no point continuing the argument. If she wanted his help, she would have to offer something substantial.
The hall of the White Tower fell into silence, broken only by the occasional weak moans of the unfortunate test subject strapped to the experimental platform.
Punk remained calm, watching as Irene struggled internally.
The two sat across from each other without speaking.
The stalemate continued for nearly half a minute before Irene, her cheeks flushed, appeared to reach a decision.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead with a delicate pink handkerchief, biting her lip hesitantly.
Under Punk's cold, watchful gaze, she slowly stood up and walked toward him.
A faint rustling sound followed as she pulled at the ribbon of her dress.
The intricate noble gown, secured by cleverly hidden fastenings, slipped gracefully to the floor, pooling at her feet.
She stood there beneath the magical glow of the White Tower, her bare skin tinged pink with embarrassment.
"Master Mage… I'm still a virgin…"
Her voice was barely louder than a whisper.
But Punk's expression did not change at all.
His eyes showed no reaction, as though he were merely looking at an ordinary object rather than a woman offering herself.
Calmly, he lifted his teacup, took a slow sip, and set it down again.
"Miss Irene, if this is the extent of your so-called sincerity… then I must say, the Doktor family has truly disappointed me."
His tone was flat and uninterested.
Her offer was, in his view, an insult to his intelligence.
Punk had no use for meaningless physical indulgence.
More importantly, accepting her offer would mean allowing himself to be labeled as the Doktor family's protector.
Not only would he lose the leverage to demand further compensation, but he would also become responsible for resolving the Spider Cave matter largely at his own expense.
Meanwhile, the Doktor family would gain a powerful patron for free.
What kind of fool would accept such a one-sided bargain just to satisfy a momentary impulse?
Irene stared at him as though he were some incomprehensible creature, momentarily forgetting to put her dress back on.
She could hardly believe it.
She had already resigned herself to this humiliating course of action—only to be rejected outright, and even ridiculed.
Was he insane?
Were all mages like this?
Or had the world itself gone mad?
After standing awkwardly for a long moment, she finally came to her senses.
Though her butler had warned her that mages were unpredictable, she had never imagined such complete indifference.
Her cheeks burning with humiliation, she quickly put her dress back on.
For the first time, she felt genuinely embarrassed.
She had believed herself valuable, convinced she could negotiate a favorable arrangement.
Instead, she now felt like a beggar offering worthless goods.
For a long while, Irene sat silently at the table.
Eventually, she took a deep breath, as though preparing herself for something difficult.
She now understood clearly:
Without real, tangible compensation, this ruthless mage would never lift a finger to help.
Meeting Punk's cold, shadowed gaze, Irene let out a slow, defeated sigh.
If she wanted his assistance, there was only one option left.
The Doktor family would have to part with their most precious bargaining chip.