"We could roam around the mansion and take every treasure we could find—without triggering a single attack or trap."
The words lingered in the air.
At first, no one spoke.
The group exchanged quiet glances, uncertainty written clearly on their faces. A few of them frowned, while others folded their arms, deep in thought. This wasn't a small decision. Trusting the Mad Doctor meant surrendering control—not just of the mission, but of their own bodies.
Leonel was the first to look away. He let out a slow breath, rubbing the back of his neck.
"This whole thing still feels wrong," he muttered.
"It does," Isolde agreed, though her voice lacked conviction. "But walking away empty-handed would be worse."
Sumeri crossed her arms tightly. "We've already stepped into her territory. If she wanted us dead, we wouldn't still be standing."
That much was true.
One by one, even those who had protested earlier began to nod. Hesitant. Reluctant. But accepting.
