I was so deep in thought I must have looked half out of my mind, because a clenched, crooked laugh slipped out of me.
“Kuku… hehehe.”
In other novels, whenever someone gets possessed by another soul, they twist the future for some grand reason.
To dodge their own death. To save someone they love. To avenge their family. And so on.
But me?
I need to twist the original story just so I can quit my job clean!
The Black Spoon Division? A mandatory three-year term?
All of you can just go to hell!
But I’d already signed the employment contract. How was I supposed to get out of this?
If the department itself stops existing, I wouldn’t have to honor the contract clauses anymore, would I?
Unlike the other ministries, the Black Spoon Division was a strange, brand-new organization with a very particular founding purpose.
Its public mission was “rooting out and punishing the trade in black magic,” but its actual purpose was wiping out the people exploiting that trade for themselves.
And that ties directly into the original story’s incidents, too.
The original novel, Beyond the Golden Gate, had three major incidents at its core.
The first.
The kidnapping incident, obviously.
The mastermind had already said as much, right in front of the Prime Minister.
[Which also means whoever’s behind this has grown strong enough to breach the palace’s own wards.]
The second: a black magic artifact smuggling ring inside a hospital, set to blow up in the second half of this year.
The third and final one: the contamination incident at the southern resort, due in the third year.
That last incident was where the real mastermind behind everything had just barely started coming into view…
…before I died, right before I got to read that part.
Painfully unfair, but let’s put together a plan anyway, the way you’d scratch an itch you can’t quite reach.
An incident’s going to break out? Don’t make me laugh.
I’ll crush the seed of it flat myself before it ever gets the chance.
And once the person behind it all gets caught, I’ll be completely, perfectly free!
“Heh… heheh. Hehn.”
My shoulders shook as I let out a low, half-suppressed, faintly unhinged laugh.
Putting together a plan this constructive actually put me in a slightly better mood.
Hah, should I go collect the male lead downstairs, then?
Maybe I really should have just used the male lead’s aura from the very start to talk Director May around…
“Hoo — gah!”
But when I finally uncurled myself and turned around, I nearly screamed.
The male lead was standing right outside the door, watching me the whole time.
Since when has he been there?!
I’d been so annoyed on the way up that I hadn’t even shut the door properly!
“M— no, I mean, senior? Why aren’t you waiting in the parlor—? Ack!”
At that exact moment, the male lead dropped to one knee and lifted his gaze to me.
“Rowell.”
No matter how much this world had come around to nobles and commoner officials working side by side, the class system was still very much alive.
The way you were expected to bow to your betters without being told, the fixed order of who got promoted when, who was already destined for the better position — that sort of thing.
The hierarchy’s still there, just running quietly under the surface.
Never mind the matching dark circles under our eyes — he was still a son of a grand duchy, and I was still a commoner orphan.
And yet…
This is a pose I’ve only ever seen in textbooks.
Kneeling on one knee — the “vow position.”
Since ancient times, it had been the formal posture nobles of the empire took when swearing a solemn oath.
Wait. Why is he doing this to me, right now?
Was it really all right for his knee to go this cheap?
Hold on. Had I even mopped this floor before leaving for work this morning?
“Just saying I’m sorry with words doesn’t mean anything. I know that much myself.”
“Sorry?”
What was he even talking about? Never mind, forget it, please just stand up!
“Senior, your knee’s going to get dirty—”
“But I need you.”
The male lead looked straight up at me, and even though I’d thought myself already used to this face, my heart still lurched.
It was the first time I’d realized just how much those deep red eyes could shine, once they filled with something other than thoughts of work.
Looking only at his flawless, composed features, you’d think him a man of cool, distant elegance — but underneath that was nothing but relentless, burning passion.
“I swear on the name of house Rupesk. I will protect you, no matter what.”
Which only made him shine even brighter, and for the first time, actually look like a proper romance-fantasy male lead.
Enough to make you forget the dark circles entirely.
I was briefly dazzled by the sheer overwhelming visuals, before I caught sight of the filthy floor again and snapped back to reality.
“I understand, so could you please just stand up…?”
“I’ll get up once you accept what I said.”
“Yesyesyes, I accept, so please, get up!”
Those trousers he had on had to be worth a fortune, and watching them get dirtier by the second on that floor was genuinely painful to witness!
I bit my lip, watching the male lead dust himself off and rise.
How short-handed does a department have to be…
For the male lead to go this far, just so his junior wouldn’t make a run for it.
Honestly, I’ve got a bone to pick with him too, if I’m being fair.
But it reminded me a little of my old self, so I decided to let it slide, just this once.
Isn’t it remarkable, though? However you slice it, being a working adult grinds everyone down equally, rank be damned.
…Later that same night, after seeing Leila back to the palace dormitory.
Carlyle went back to the Black Spoon Division office, the only one in the building still lit.
As expected, Edgar hadn’t gone home either.
And, also as expected, he was not at all pleased to hear what Carlyle had decided.
“You’re not taking her out into the field?”
“No. Rowell will be staying here at the office only.”
“…Ha. Guess you’re not in that much of a hurry, then.”
Edgar’s face, always set in that easy, foxlike smile, shifted like a mask sliding off.
The sly grin twisted into something closer to a sneer.
“So this wasn’t desperate at all. Here I thought you’d dragged her in so you could keep her at your side day and night.”
“…”
“When I told you to be a good mentor, did you think I meant go soft on her? Carlyle Rupesk.”
“Edgar. I already know that much myself.”
Carlyle, past the point of patience, dropped the formalities.
Within the palace they kept to their proper ranks, but the two of them had always been the kind of friends who called each other things like “you damn dog” in private.
“I can’t drag around someone with zero physical conditioning. Building that up alone takes time.”
“Then what exactly do you plan to do with her ability to see cores?”
“I’ll have the Mage Knights’ Division commissioned to build an artifact for it.”
“Hm.”
“Sharing sight or voice with the people out in the field shouldn’t be difficult.”
It was the kind of function their crafting team could put together in no time flat, if he made the request.
Faced with a perfectly reasonable answer, Edgar finally gave a slow nod.
“Things are a bit unsettled over there right now… but fine, Rupesk. Do it that way.”
“Thank you, Minister.”
“But just so you know — however well you take care of her, I’m still going to test Miss Rowell myself.”
“Don’t pull that shit, Edgar.”
When Carlyle let a thin thread of aura slip out as a warning, Edgar only gave a wry smile.
Can’t help acting like a wolf, can he.
The curse on house Rupesk was a secret, but Edgar knew it anyway, thanks to his ability to read minds.
But there was something far more interesting about “Leila Rowell.”
She knew what I was after, apparently.
『So he can easily track down whatever black magic artifact he wants, that’s why.』
『Though I suppose that’s just what you’d expect, from “the mastermind.”』
“The mastermind.” What a strange word to use. A genuinely interesting person, that one.
Just who exactly is Leila Rowell?
That was when Carlyle spoke up again.
“Edgar. There’s also something I wanted to mention, about the Temple’s donations.”
“Hm? Donations?”
“Yes.”
Carlyle thought back to the state of the place he’d seen while bringing Leila in, and his brow furrowed.
“Something’s off about the donations reaching that orphanage.”
Chirp, chirp, chirp… chirp, chirp, chirp…
The morning sparrows kindly informed me that my life was going straight to the birds.
The birds living in the palace really do sing beautifully, though.
In the end, I’d been marched off by the male lead’s own hand and moved into the palace dormitory.
Director May didn’t get nearly as angry as I expected, come to think of it.
I’d braced myself for her to make it obvious how unhappy she was that I couldn’t help out after work anymore, but she hadn’t shown a hint of it.
A little unsettling, honestly — but the dormitory room itself was genuinely nice.
There was even a balcony looking out over the whole capital!
I’m cracking open a beer out here someday.
And when I went down to the dining hall on the first floor, the menu was… oh.
This is actually great!
Since nobles stayed in the dormitory too, apparently, the quality was a cut above.
But just as I reached for “Set A: today’s Salisbury steak with a white dinner roll”—
A dormitory staff member hurried over to me.
“You’re the newly arrived Miss Leila Rowell, correct? Is this also your first time in the dining hall?”
“Oh? Yes, that’s right. This is my first time using it.”
“Then you’re aware everything here comes out of your salary as a deduction, yes?”
“…Sorry?”
