Corsica.
Technically the fourth-largest island in the Mediterranean.
Which sounded impressive—until one remembered the Mediterranean itself wasn't that large to begin with.
On a map, Corsica was the kind of place your finger could slide past without noticing. Tiny. Forgettable.
Yet it had its own natives. Its own identity. Its own wars.
Before Napoleon's era, it had fought invasion after invasion, refusing to bow.
In this lifetime, Greece had risen to dominance.
Under its banner, territories were divided into three political classes.
First—Provinces. Directly governed by Greece.
Second—Autonomous Provinces. High-autonomy mini-kingdoms, usually controlled by powerful races—Orcs, Dwarves, Elves. They pledged nominal allegiance but paid little and obeyed less.
Third—Subordinate States.
Nations with strong independence movements that accepted Greek protection… without becoming provinces.
In other words—
Stepchildren.
Ignored. Underfunded. Politically disposable.
Corsica belonged to this third category.
With Greek help, they had driven out invaders.
But they refused annexation.
That decision came with a price.
To maintain independence, they paid enormous tribute annually—yet received no Greek fiscal support in return.
Then came the pirates.
Tribute shipments were raided repeatedly. Corsica's government couldn't make up the losses.
Eventually, Greece stopped caring.
Subsidies for Corsican envoys were cut entirely.
No punishment.
No military aid.
No anti-pirate support.
Just… neglect.
Which meant Corsica's diplomatic presence in Athens had sunk to rock bottom.
No funding.
Sky-high Athenian prices.
And thus—
Corsica Mansion had been reduced to this alleyway shack.
The "mansion" in front of them was nothing more than a civilian house with a government sign nailed on.
Yu Jia rang the bell for a long time.
Nothing happened—except dogs barking from nearby homes.
He switched to pounding the door.
Finally—
Movement inside.
"Coming, coming! What is it in the middle of the night?!"
The door cracked open.
An old, fierce face peered out beside a candle flame.
"Who are you people?"
Midnight horror material.
"We're Corsica's envoys. Here's our official letter." Yu Jia forced on a friendly smile and handed it over.
The old man opened it.
Read two lines.
His attitude flipped instantly.
"Baron Yu Jia, welcome."
He opened the door wider.
"Letter states I'm only responsible for lodging. All other expenses are self-funded. You're aware, yes?"
Adam and Yinling nearly tripped.
Self-funded… envoys?
This government was unbelievable.
"I'm aware," Yu Jia answered immediately.
The old man nodded, satisfied.
"Come in."
He turned and led them inside with the candle.
"You negotiated this?" Adam murmured beside Yu Jia. "I feel like I've been sold."
"Yeah! Did you embezzle those thousand gold coins?!" Yinling piled on.
"I—I didn't know!" Yu Jia whispered back helplessly. "The Grand Duke asked how we'd handle food. Since we drink blood, I said we'd handle it ourselves. How was I supposed to know he'd write that into the letter?!"
Still, it proved one thing—
Corsica's treasury was counting every copper.
Adam shook his head and stepped inside.
The house was narrow.
Uncomfortably narrow.
For someone Adam's size, one careless turn could hit a wall.
He already felt cramped.
Yinling covered her nose.
There was a damp, moldy smell.
"It's better now," the old man said. "Aegean summers are hot and dry. Winter smells worse."
He climbed a narrow wooden staircase with the candle.
The steps creaked violently.
Adam doubted they'd hold his weight.
"My name is Bib," the old man said while climbing. "Resident envoy in Athens for twenty years. There's also a secretary—Corsican as well—but he's asleep."
"Only two people in this embassy?" Adam asked.
"Yes."
Bib opened a door.
"This will be your room. Bit messy—make do tonight. I'll tidy tomorrow."
The room was tiny.
Twenty square meters at most.
One bed—no sheets.
One wardrobe.
Dust blanketed the floor.
Cobwebs owned the ceiling.
"Oh gods… what is this place…" Yinling muttered miserably. She almost preferred sleeping in a ship crate again.
"Please understand," Bib said apologetically. "Corsica hasn't sent funding in six months. I sell fruit during the day now… Honestly, I thought they'd forgotten me until you arrived."
He opened the wardrobe.
Dust exploded outward.
He pulled out bedding.
"Baron sleeps on the bed. Guard at the door. Maid… perhaps my downstairs office. Just for tonight."
He began wiping the bedboard with a towel.
"Only one room?" Adam frowned.
"Afraid so."
"But you said only two staff—and this building has four floors."
"Ah… we only rent two floors," Bib said awkwardly. "First floor is office plus my room. Second is archives and my colleague's room."
Silence.
"…It's rented?" Adam muttered.
Suddenly, an inn sounded luxurious.
"Yu Jia. We need to talk," Adam said coldly.
He glanced at Bib.
Bib instantly understood.
Awkward laugh.
"I'll go sleep first."
He walked out, then pointed back at the bed.
"We'll handle it," Adam said.
"Alright. There's spare bedding in the largest file cabinet downstairs if needed. Good night."
He left, closing the door.
The moment he was gone—
"You've got to be kidding me!" Adam roared in a voice humans couldn't hear.
"I told you he embezzled the thousand gold!" Yinling echoed.
"I didn't! That money bought our identities! Being envoys was a free add-on!" Yu Jia protested in the same inhuman whisper.
"What do we do now?" Adam pointed at the room. "Where do your instruments go? Without them, where do we get blood? And you expect Yinling to sleep in an office? This drafty ruin leaks sunlight!"
The last line hit Yinling directly.
Her eyes softened.
So he does care about me…
Second Progenitor's Wife status rising…
"Worst case I'll sleep in the office!" Yu Jia shot back. "I've slept in cellars before!"
Yinling rolled her eyes violently.
"No," Adam said flatly.
He looked at the curtainless window.
Outside—
The sky was lightening.
Dawn was coming.
"We need a solution. Fast."